More windows burst. On a high balcony a frantic guest slipped on a terrace, hit the railing, spilled over and fell, howling. Down the street the entire wall of a brick warehouse caved in under the wind's pounding.
The crackle of Mr. Waverly's voice pulled him to his senses:
"Mr. Solo? Do you hear me? Find the generator."
"Acknowledge," Solo said. He pressed the button which silenced the communicator.
He leaped forward as he heard a grinding sound overhead. He landed face first in the torrent of water filling the street. A few feet behind him the facade of the building had given way, and dumped several tons of wood and masonry onto the spot where he had been standing.
He'd acknowledged Mr. Waverly's command. But where in the maelstrom did he start'? He staggered up and said under his breath, "The incredible we do in five minutes. The impossible takes a little longer."
Slipping, stumbling, Solo began to run back in the general direction of the hotel where he had left Miss Fong unconscious. Weng had told him that she did not know the transmitter's location. Had he lied? Solo doubted it. THRUSH discipline regarding secrets was both inflexible and uniform. Lower echelons were kept in the dark.
Still, Miss Fong was his only hope.
All around him buildings collapsed, fallen power lines hissed, people shrieked in fear. And despite the rain, fires were breaking out. Solo ran until his lungs ached.
He had gone only a few blocks when his pocket communicator began to beep frantically.
Act IV: "It Never Rains But It Pours…"
So far Dr. Dargon had been unusually cooperative. This indicated to Illya that the scientist intended to betray them at the first opportunity.
Illya was tense. The slightest odd sound or innocent-appearing shadow brought cold sweat to his forehead.
Dr. Dargon had led them through a series of maze-like passages. They had climbed three stairways and ridden two elevators. In between sucks at his tooth, Dargon kept assuring Illya that he was showing them the only safe escape route. Consequently, the further they went without detection, the more Illya became convinced that Dargon was attempting to lull him into false security.
It had taken them nearly half an hour to wind their way upward to this brilliantly lit corridor with gray cinder block walls.
"Only a short distance more," D argon whispered.
"And then we fall through a trap door into a pit of ravenous bears?" Illya asked.
Dr. Dargon's hands fluttered near his waist. "No, no, I assure you -"
"Please spare me your assurances," Illya cut in. "Where is the hangar?"
Dargon indicated blue steel doors in the distance. "Just through there."
They moved ahead. Mei walked close to Illya on his left side. Her pretty face showed the ravages of fatigue and pain.
"Mr. Kuryakin, do you think you can fly the airplane the doctor told you about?" she said.
Illya shrugged. "He described it as a Nova Class IV two-jet fighter-bomber. I have had some training with that type of aircraft. Enough to give it a try, anyway. While I'm at the controls you will have to watch our guide."
The girl paled. With some weariness, Illya said, "For heaven's sake why are you trembling?"
"I - I have never been in an airplane before."
He didn't bother to tell Mei that he had been boasting about his flying ability. He could pilot smaller planes under reasonably normal circumstances. He had not taken over the Air Pan-Asia jet because of the weather, and his lack of formal training on huge commercial aircraft. He quite possibly might crack them all up on one of the Himalayas, provided they got that far.
"We'll come out of this all right," he reassured the girl. "I'll use the plane's radio to call Hong Kong and warn those at the conference to evacuate the Hotel International. There are many people depending on us, Mei. We have to come through."
Kuryakin, he thought to himself, you are a shameless liar.
Dr. Dargon had reached the blue steel doors. He turned around. Ceiling lights flared off the lenses of his spectacles.
"I can offer no guarantee that the aircraft will be in the hangar, Mr. Kuryakin."
"For your longevity's sake," Illya said, "I hope it is. Please go ahead."
With a bob of his head Dr. Dargon extended his hands in front of him, as if to use his palms to push the door open. His gesture brought instant pandemonium.
Sirens and bells went off. Illya was getting rather used to the racket by now. Sections of cinder block wall pivoted back and the impersonal lenses of television cameras began scanning the corridor. Illya gave Dargon a smack in the back of the head with the captured pistol.
"You filthy double-crosser! I didn't see you touch anything -"
Dr. Dargon giggled. "The detectors concealed in the frame of these steel doors are extremely sensitive. They detect even heat emitted by human bodies. Thus the slightest change in corridor temperature activates the alarms. No physical contact is necessary for -
down here! Save me!" Dargon squealed, glancing past Illya.
THRUSH had appeared at the corridor's far end. Illya dragged Dargon around in front of him to serve as a shield. He squeezed off a shot at the officer in the lead of the pack. It was Major Otako.
Illya's bullet missed. The major flattened against the wall. His S-scar shone with pallid ugliness. Illya said over his shoulder, "Try the door, Mei."
After a moment he heard her say, "It is locked." Panic edged into her voice.
"Don't shoot, don't shoot! It's I, Dargon!" the scientist cried, struggling in Illya's grip.
Major Otako seemed unconcerned that the THRUSH intellectual was currently serving as Illya's shield. Otako wigwagged with his swagger stick. "What are you waiting for, men? Fill the old gas-bag with bullets if necessary. His work is done. I want the U.N.C.L.E. agents."
Savagely Illya tightened the crook of his left arm around Dargon's neck. "Well, Doctor," he snarled, "they have as few scruples as you. So we'll all die together, unless you know how to open this door."
Dargon thought it over only for a second. "The - the middle hinge. It contains a removable section. Inside you will find a small button."
Mei bent over the hinge. Illya squeezed off two more shots. They tore holes in the cinderblocks but missed Otako. The THRUSH soldiers had formed two ranks. The ones in the first were kneeling, aiming their rifles. Illya felt a tug on his robe. He turned and leaped through the door, pulling Dr. Dargon with him as a volley of shots ripped into the wall around the opened door.
Illya and Dargon sprawled on oil-stained concrete. Illya jumped up. He dragged Dargon by the collar. Their shadows sprang out before them in the huge hangar. Behind, Otako screamed frenzied orders.
The fuselage door of the Nova IV fighter-bomber stood open. A mechanic poked his head out. He yelled as the party of three escapees came pelting toward him.
The mechanic tore a pistol from his coverall pocket. Illya shot. The mechanic dropped out of the fuselage door and thudded on the cement.
"Inside, and don't stand on ceremony," Illya said. He shoved the flailing Dargon up to the fuselage door and gave him a kick aft to help him along. Then he spun around and fired a shot which felled a THRUST soldier.
Major Otako was urging his men forward. He had found a submachine gun which he was leveling at Illya as the latter boosted Mei into the plane and scrambled after her.