Solo was about to speak, when Illya smiled and nodded.
"Of course, you are probably right," Illya said. "Tell me, that woman, Jezzi Mahal, have you apprehended her?"
"Ah, Brown's lady," M.M. Roy said. "No, but we will. I have a search on for her. Rest easy, gentlemen. Your work has been well done. I do not think I will even need OAS troops. Of course, the tribunal will remain in session until I can suspend martial law. I want all my actions open and observed. That is the only true course of democracy. All open, no ugly, deadly secrets."
"Of course," Illya said. "I think we can report that all is secure in Zambala."
"Take my solemn oath for that, gentlemen. And once more my thanks, and the gratitude of my poor country. I believe your plane is ready."
Solo and Illya saw the stewardess of the plane waving to them. It was time to go. The two agents looked toward Martin O'Hara, who was showing no recognition. They thanked the premier, and walked to their plane.
Solo carried his attache case. But Illya carried a large suitcase the small blond could barely carry. At the plane he turned this suitcase over to the stewardess, and the agents boarded the small, twin-engined plane.
There were few passengers, the plane making two more stops in more popular tourist areas of Jamaica and Antigua. The two agents took their seats and watched out the window. The official group of the tribunal and the premier were still watching the plane. Then the plane taxied down the runway, and took off into the blue sky over San Pablo. It few high over the mountains and the jungle on its route across the island, its propellers glinting in the sun.
"We're not really leaving, are we?" Solo said in a low voice as he smiled at the pretty stewardess.
"Of course not," Illya said, beaming at the stewardess. "It is all very wrong."
"Very," Solo said, nodding at the stewardess.
The two men talked very low while they smiled and nodded at passengers and the stewardess. They looked like two young men on holiday without a care in the world.
"How did Bengali know who we were? Even our names," Illya said.
"The premier is very anxious to wipe out the Stengali," Solo said.
"No one should have known who we were," Illya said.
"How did Bengali happen to find us so easily?" Solo said.
"We escaped very conveniently," Illya said, looking out the window at the high central Zambalan mountains below.
"We escaped very conveniently many times. Those soldiers were terrible shots on that cliff road," Solo said. "That note from Zamyatta was very conveniently left where I could find it. And I got away."
"But we did see Zamyatta with Colonel Brown," Illya said.
"The regiment was on the move, and did try to hold us," Solo said.
"It is confusing," Illya said, "and I don't like it. Are you ready?"
"Ready," Solo said. "In that suitcase, of course?"
"Of course," Illya said. "Shall we go?"
The two agents stood up and sauntered back toward the baggage room. Inside, they quickly opened Illya's suitcase. They took out the two parachutes and the two small oxygen masks and cylinders. The cylinders on, the parachutes on, and the masks in place, they opened the cargo hatch.
Moments later the two parachutes floated down in the afternoon sun toward the jungle below as the plane flew on toward the sea.
* * *
Along the familiar fence, the two agents watched the soldiers in Tidworth Barracks. It was night now, the trip across the island toward San Pablo having taken many hours. There was singing in the barracks, a great many soldiers wandering across the parade ground and the quadrangle, and no sign of guards anywhere.
"Well, there it is," Solo said.
"No evidence that the regiment has been affected at all," Illya said. "We found no units or any other regiment anywhere near here."
"No roadblocks, no change from ordinary barrack life," Solo said.
"In short, no one has been arrested except Colonel Brown!" Illya said.
"A loyal man and good soldier," Solo said.
"I think, Napoleon, we should have a talk with the good colonel."
"I think we should," Solo said.
The two agents faded into the night. A few moments later they reached the small, black car they had stolen earlier, and drove off toward San Pablo.
There was no sign in the calm night of the usual effects of martial law. All seemed peaceful in Zambala.
An ominous peace.
The prison was as silent as ever, set into the hill outside San Pablo. Illya and Solo found many more guards this time.
There were two at the door; the two agents shot one each with the sleep darts from their U.N.C.L.E. Specials.
Quickly they changed clothes with the sleeping guards, and dragged the guards into a nearby empty office. Then they went up the stairs and began their search. They found the cells of Colonel Julio Brown and Jemi Zamyatta at the very top of one of the new wings.
"They don't want any escape this time," Solo said. "I always thought that Stengali escaped too easily."
"They don't want any escape yet. I imagine it might be arranged later," Illya said.
There were two guards in the jail corridor outside the barred door into the top cellblock. There was another guard inside the cellblock near the actual cells. There were alarm boxes on the wall both inside the cellblock and outside. It would be necessary to silence the three guards quickly.
They shot the two outside guards with sleep darts and ran fast toward the cellblock. The guard inside whirled at the sounds. Illya shot him on the dead run and the guard slumped to the floor inches from the alarm box. Solo bent and took the keys from the fallen guard.
Solo opened the outer barred door and the two agents went down the line of cells. All the cells were empty until they reached the last two. In these last cells Jemi Zamyatta, and Colonel Julio Brown, stood watching the agents.
"Good evening, gentlemen," Solo said.
Zamyatta watched them, looked at their guns. Colonel Brown looked at their guns, and then at their faces.
"You two! You work for the premier?"
"Never mind who we work for," Illya said. "The question is what work are we going to have to do."
Zamyatta was puzzled. "What work?"
"My blond friend means do we see that you two are put away, or do we turn you loose?" Solo said.
The two prisoners stared at the agents.
TWO
The hulking shape of Jemi Zamyatta sat on the bunk in the cell and listened to the story of the two U.N.C.L.E. agents. Colonel Brown was a more nervous type. The colonel paced the floor of the cell. When Illya and Solo had finished, Zamyatta spoke. The bull-like opposition leader spread his powerful hands.
"I swear, gentlemen, there was no coup!"
Colonel Brown swore. "None at all! There was no threat to the premier."
"Except, perhaps, a change in Zambala," Jemi Zamyatta said. "We are becoming a country. The days of chaos are over, or they were. If I were to be elected, I was ready to amnesty Max Steng and his men. No, the danger was that the great Lion of Zambala might not win a next election!"
"Was it generally known that you planned to pardon the Stengali?" Illya asked.
"No, not generally—but Roy knew!" Zamyatta said.
Colonel Brown said, "And he knew that I favored such a move! Any such move. The army has been too important too long here. There is too much of Zambala still in the hands of the rich and the foreign companies."