Blossom looked disappointed. “Three’s a crowd,” she said.
Max spoke sternly to her. “I think we’d better get one thing straight,” he said. “When I’m on a case, I’m no longer Max Smart, wonderful human being and brilliant conversationalist-I’m Agent 86, dedicated secret operative. It’s all work and no play. My mind is fixed on the objective, like a foot stuck in the mud. Is that clear?”
Blossom shrugged. “If that’s the way you want it. But I don’t see what harm maybe a movie or a little dancing could do.”
The Chief intervened. “I’ll get K-13,” he said.
As Max and Blossom observed, the Chief got up and went to the wall. He pressed a panel near the floor. It opened, and a large shaggy dog romped out. The dog had the appearance of having first been dropped into a vat of glue, then into a barrel of feathers.
“Here, boy… here, Fang!” Max called.
The dog leaped on him, pawing him. They exchanged greetings.
“This is Agent K-13… fondly known as ‘Fang,’ ” Max said to Blossom.
She smiled. “He reminds me of Fred-that is, Fred my cocker spaniel,” she said. “Except, of course, that he’s about ten times bigger and doesn’t look a thing like Fred.”
“One of our top agents,” the Chief said. “Absolutely fearless.”
“Better punch in, boy,” Max said to Fang.
The dog went to the open file where the time cards were kept, removed his card, using his teeth, and inserted it in the clock. He was unable to operate the mechanism, however.
Max punched the card for him. “Absolutely fearless, but a complete butterfingers when it comes to anything mechanical,” he explained to Blossom.
Fang barked a rejoinder, which was probably quite scathing.
“I think that’s about all,” the Chief said. “Max, are you clear on your mission?”
“Right, Chief! I’m to find Fred and bring him back-dead or alive!” He turned to Blossom. “Ready?”
“Do you have any ideas about where to look?” she said, rising.
“Absolutely none,” Max said confidently. “But, as somebody once said, ‘New York is really just a small town.’ So we’ll start out by just asking around.” He signalled to Fang. “Come on, boy!”
“Rorff!”
“Good luck,” the Chief said.
Max paused. “You can send that to the members of FLAG,” he said to the Chief. “They’re the ones who’ll need the luck.”
As Max, Blossom and Fang departed, Blossom asked, “Who is FLAG?”
“That stands for Free Lance Agents Amalgamated,” Max answered, leading the way down the corridor. “It’s the trade union of the espionage agents. It’s my guess that a number of the FLAG agents will also be hot on Fred’s trail. They’re the opposition, you might say.”
“Wouldn’t Free Lance Agents Amalgamated be FLAA?”
“They have a little spelling problem,” Max explained. “They’re absolutely fearless, each and every one of them, but they can’t spell worth a darn. Fang is the same way.”
“Rorfff!”
“See what I mean?” Max said to Blossom. “He put in an extra ‘f.’ ”
“These FLAG people,” Blossom said. “What country do they represent?”
“Any country that hires them,” he answered. “They’ve found the one preferable substitute for loyalty, fidelity and playing-the-game.”
“Good heavens, what’s that?”
“Money,” Max said tersely.
The three passed through the exit doors, ascended the steps, and got into Max’s car, with Fang settling in the rear seat. Max started the engine.
“May I put my purse in your glove compartment?” Blossom said.
“That’s not the glove compartment, that’s where I keep the shells for my 20 mm. cannon,” Max said. “You see, the lower headlight on the left side isn’t really a headlight-it’s the cannon. This car was specially built for me. The cannon was optional, but I took it because all the FLAG agents have cannons on their cars. Call it keeping-up-with-the-Joneses, if you want.”
“Well… I guess a cannon is practical, in your business,” Blossom said.
“It can be a drawback,” Max admitted. “Recoil, you know. I fired at a FLAG agent from 57th Street one day, and the recoil sent me all the way back to 42nd Street. I got fifteen tickets for driving backwards through fifteen stop lights.”
“I’ll just hold on to my purse,” Blossom said.
“Good idea. It might cause a misfire if I jammed it into the chamber without thinking.” He looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “Instead of just asking around for Fred, I think it might be a better idea to go about this more methodically. Considering the answers I’ve got when I’ve asked my way on the subway, I don’t think asking strangers if they’ve seen a computer that was built with Rock Hudson in mind would get us very far. Rather, let’s ask ourselves a question. Namely: Where would we go if we were a computer trying to hide out?”
Blossom smiled hopefully. “A cozy French restaurant?”
“At this time of day? Don’t be ridiculous. There isn’t a French restaurant in town that opens before noon. No,” he said, “if Fred is as smart as you claim he is, he’d look for a place where he’d be inconspicuous. Now, all we have to figure out is, where could a robot go and not be noticed?”
“A movie?”
“Hardly.”
“Rorff.”
“I’m sorry, Fang, but that’s even more ridiculous than a French restaurant.”
“A movie in the balcony,” Blossom suggested.
“No. You’re forgetting the ushers and their flashlights.” Max suddenly brightened. “Of course! The perfect spot! The one place where a mechanical man could be mistaken for one of the bunch!”
“Where?”
“The United Nations,” Max said. “With all the new countries joining up, and old ones dropping out, who knows who’s who? He could pass himself off as the representative of some emerging nation.”
Blossom sank down into the seat. “Well… if you think so.”
Max gunned the car out into traffic. “That’s where we’ll find Fred!” he said exultantly. “Or my name isn’t 86!”
“Rorffffff!”
“Only two f’s, boy!”
2
The car covered the six crosstown blocks in only a little less than a half-hour. Within another forty-five minutes they had found a parking space. Both Blossom and Fang were dozing by the time the car finally came to a stop.
Max shook them awake. “All out… we’re here!”
“Where?” Blossom said groggily, stretching.
“The U.N. And, from now on, on your toes, both of you. Keep a sharp lookout for FLAG agents. The enemy is everywhere. Don’t trust a soul. There’s no way of knowing what disguise the adversary might be wearing.”
“Then how will we know?” Blossom said worriedly.
Max tapped his skull with an index finger. “Intuition,” he said. “After you’ve been in this business as long as I have, you develop a seventh sense. The instant a FLAG agent comes within ten feet of me, a warning sounds in my brain. A bell rings and a light flashes, and a little sign pops up, saying, ‘Apples 5?’-that’s the code for ‘Watch it, Max!’ ”
Blossom smiled. “That’s very comforting.”
They started out-walking the twelve blocks from where Max had parked to the U.N. Building. But when they had gone only three blocks, Max suddenly grasped Blossom by the wrist and pulled her into a doorway. Fang quickly joined them.
“What is it?” Blossom said fearfully.
Max pointed back along the street. “See that lady with a poodle? She’s following us. It’s my guess that she’s a FLAG agent. Her poodle doesn’t look too trustworthy, either.”
Blossom peered out of the doorway. “She just looks like a woman walking her dog to me,” she said.
“Then why did my little sign pop up and say ‘Apples 5??” Max asked. “There’s definitely a FLAG agent in the vicinity. And that lady and her poodle are the prime suspects.” He spoke to Fang. “Boy, do your duty. Interrogate that poodle. But casually. Don’t give away your own identity.”