DuMont nodded. The chauffeur got out of the car, came around and opened its rear door as Yvonne and the false banker crossed the walk under the canopy.
Solo waited until the chauffeur closed the door and started around the car again. He stepped out of the door, angled across the walk. He moved along the car behind the chauffeur, timing it so that his gun touched his back as he opened the door.
"Get in and drive as I tell you," Solo ordered. He got into the rear of the car. The driver moved the car out into the traffic. He spoke into the communicator.
"Where do you wish to go?"
Solo spoke grimly. "The Chateau Caillou, driver."
DuMont and the chauffeur stared at him as if he were crazy. Solo shrugged. Perhaps they were right.
PART FOUR:
INCIDENT OF THE EIFFEL TOWER
A MILE FROM the Caillou chateau, Napoleon Solo ordered the driver to turn the car off the highway. They pulled into a copse of trees in the hammock below the huge old estate.
Solo secured the driver with ropes, and left him gagged on the rear floor of the Rolls. Walking behind Yvonne and Jacques, he entered the grounds through a wooden door in the stone wall.
They came up behind the servants' quarters, moved past the garage. At the wall of the house, Solo found the lever which opened a sliding door.
They stepped into the stairway, leading down.
They reached the foot of the steps in the basement foyer before the alarms wailed through the ancient castle.
Maunchaun's voice crackled on the inter-com. When Albert and the guards ran out on the level above them, Solo did not even move his gun from Jacques' spine. Maunchaun ordered: "Shoot him. I do not care why he came back here. I shall no longer tolerate his meddling!"
Solo said nothing, but Jacques DuMont screamed in the terror that had been building inside him on the long ride out from the city. "Wait!"
Guns were already raised, sighted on Solo. Yvonne continued to stand near them, robot-like, unmoved by anything that happened around her.
"Wait!" DuMont yelled again. "A hair-trigger. Even if he is shot, I shall be killed. Wait!"
The men with the guns hesitated.
Solo spoke in a conversational tone. "I hope you heard that, Dr. Maunchaun."
There was a pause. The intercom crackled vibrantly.
At last Maunchaun spoke. "If you kill DuMont, I shall be forced to use the real Caillou. It will not be as easy, but it will still succeed."
"You know better, Maunchaun," Solo said. "It's all over. You know that. It has been, since I got out of here this morning. United Network Command has a full report. They are waiting at a medical center now to receive Lester Caillou—the real Caillou."
"And you expect to walk in here and simply walk out with him unharmed?"
"I haven't given you any terms," Solo said. "I came back for Illya Kuryakin and Lester Caillou. When you bring them here, I will tell you what your chances are to get out of this alive."
Maunchaun laughed. After a moment a guard brought Lester down the steps. At the sight of the real Caillou, Yvonne whimpered gently, looking from him to DuMont––puzzled, the terrors starting in her again.
From the dungeon, a guard led Illya.
Solo winced, seeing his partner. Illya's face was battered and bruised from the beatings inflicted upon him since dawn. He dragged his feet when he walked. His wrists were linked in handcuffs chained to a band about his waist.
Maunchaun laughed again. "You do not look very large, or very awesome on my television screen, Mr. Solo."
Solo continued staring at Illya's swollen face. He did not answer. Involuntarily he jabbed the mouth of his gun into DuMont's spine. The impostor screamed.
"Do you think I am going to let you live, Solo?" Maunchaun's Voice persisted. "You, or Caillou—any of you? If as you suggest you have destroyed my plan to use the World Bank as an instrument of world panic, what have I to gain by permitting you to live to testify against me?"
"You've one gamble, Doctor," Solo said. "You know how long Lester Caillou will live on this drug you've been feeding him."
"Indeed I do."
"I'm willing to gamble with you," Solo said. "I'll exchange DuMont for the real Lester. Caillou, if you let us out of here."
"Why should I?"
"There is a chance Caillou won't live to get to the medical center. There is a chance he won't recover sufficiently to testify against you. That's your only chance."
"And all I have to do is to allow you four people safe conduct from this house?"
"I've bad news for you, Doctor. If we are not out of here in—" Solo checked his watch, "—in thirty more minutes, operatives from United Network Command and the French police will move in here. We're giving you thirty minutes, because if this matter can be settled without further notoriety further panic can be avoided. I thought you'd be interested in thirty minutes. A man like you should be able to do many things in thirty minutes."
There was that pause, vibrant in the silence. Finally, Maunchaun said, almost pleasantly, "Let them go. All guards, let them go."
Holding Lester Caillou's arm, Solo retreated. Yvonne moved be side Illya. They went up the steps, through the door in the wall to the yard.
Solo was not deceived that Maunchaun had surrendered so docilely.
The safest plan for Maunchaun would be to permit them to leave, to clear out of the chateau in his midget copters before the world fell in on him.
By now Solo knew that Maunchaun was not interested in safety. His imagination moved through vast spaces, and peril was part of his existence.
He said, "The 'copters. Walk at an angle as if we were going past them toward the gate. At my signal, run to the nearest one."
They walked across the lawn in the sun. Nothing stirred inside the chateau or out of it. Not even a bird whistled in the trees. There was no breeze. It was as if everything held its breath, waiting for Dr. Maunchaun's next move.
Solo felt as if he were wearing a large target in the middle of his back. Maunchaun was not going to let them get Caillou to the waiting physicians—not going to let them live, even though his gigantic fiscal plot had been destroyed.
"Now!" Solo said.
They ran toward the nearest chopper. Caillou staggered.
Fearful, Solo glanced at him. He slipped his arm around him, supporting him. Ahead of them, Yvonne and Illya scrambled into the copter.
Solo half lifted Caillou. He crawled into the bucket seat at the controls. Illya managed to reach his manacled arms out and close the plastic door.
Solo started the engine, revving the motor. Men ran from the house, through the doors, the grounds filling with them. They carried guns.
Solo engaged the controls; the blades whirled. The small whirly bird swung upward like a frantic swan.
Solo tossed Illya the handcuff keys he'd taken from Marie in that side-street hotel. Illya unlocked the cuffs, let them dangle at his waist. He checked the 'copter, found a machine pistol, a box of friction-bomb pellets.
Caillou sagged silently against a bulkhead.
Yvonne shivered, staring at Caillou. Shock and fear were at battle with the effects of the drugs inside her.