The Beauty and Beast Affair Page 8

  Zud shook his bead. "We'll get them back." He looked around, uncertainly. "It may take a bit of time, but—"

  "Majesty. That is only part of the communiqué. This army has kidnapped Queen Soraya of Xanra as she returned under our escort to her own border. She is being held hostage until you, O King of Lions, agree to carry out your contract with THRUSH."

  Zud sank into one of the chairs beside the table. His wide shoulders sagged, his eyes held torment, and he gazed about, distracted.

  Aly David stepped forward. "Majesty, if you would permit, I'll take an army and retrieve the refineries. I vow to drive every mercenary across our borders."

  Sheik Zud stared for one more moment at the zeal burning in Aly David's black eyes. He made his decision, and leaped to his feet.

  "So be it!" He shouted. "I name you, Aly David, commander of all my troops. I charge you to drive out the mercenary and the invader."

  Aly David knelt. "I pledge my life to it."

  Zud moved quickly to Frun. "And you, Frun, will immediately assume the duties of the late Ambassador Zouida Berikeen. You will notify all nations that Zabir honors no false alliances with any secret conspiracies, that from this day Zabir intends to take its place among the honorable nations of the world."

  Frun knelt beside Aly David. "Allah hears my vow to serve you now and forever, sire."

  Zud nodded impatiently. "Before you leave to attend the United Nations sessions, I request that go at once to Xanra and assure that nation that all warlike threats from Zabir are ended from this hour. Our forces will withdraw to stated boundaries. And that my secret police will find their queen and restore her, or I, Zud, place my own life in forfeit for hers."

  "It will be done," Frun said. He got up from his knee, kissed the king's ring and strode from the room, followed quickly by Aly David.

  "If Kiell were alive," Zud said, his voice quavering, "I would say to him, 'Kiell, find Soraya, return her to safety, and punish those who threaten her with harm.'"

  He gazed about the room, distracted. "I would say this much to Kiell, and I would know it would be done as surely as the east sky across the desert of Zur will burn with tomorrow's dawn."

  He pressed his huge hands over his face. "I would know it. As I breathed, I would know it. Ah, without you, Kiell—" he stretched out his arm toward the body on the silken bier. "Without you, I am truly lost."

  Piebr stepped forward and knelt. "Majesty, I am not Kiell. I was only his assistant. I cannot vow to you as Kiell would have done. But, Sire, I am the son of Zouida Berikeen. I can swear to my ruler that my last breath will be spent in assuring the safety of Queen Soraya if you will but allow me this chance to serve you."

  Zud straightened, shaking himself, as if returning to this moment from his distracted thoughts. He stared at Piebr vacantly. He said, "Oh, Piebr, forgive me. I am overwhelmed with grief. I name you minister of security. Let your first duty be the escorting of these people to the air terminal of Kurbot and secure their safe passage to New York."

  "But your Majesty! Queen Soraya!"

  Zud shook his head and smiled. "You are too young, Piebr. I remember when you played at your father's knee in this room. I will not imperil your life by matching you against the professional killers trained by THRUSH. No. We must let the army handle this and pray Allah for Soraya's safety."

  Solo said, "Forgive me, Majesty. I realize you have been patient, and I have spoken too much. But one suggestion?"

  "Speak," Zud said.

  "I know your reluctance to trust the skills of a man you remember as a child, close to you. But Piebr is a clever and resourceful man, trained by Kiell himself. Perhaps Kiell meant that Piebr would some day replace him. Piebr must be tried under fire if he is ever to serve you as Kiell did. And I must warn you that when THRUSH realizes you will not knuckle under, they may well slay Soraya in order to set Xanra forever against you."

  Zud shook his head. "What then can we do?"

  "Trust Piebr. Set him in charge. Trust him. Allow me, and my agents to aid him. Order Aly David to move his armies to within sight of the mercenaries—but to hold their fire until Piebr, with us, can locate and confer with the THRUSH people for Soraya's safety."

  Zud waved his arm, nodded. "So be it. And may Allah speed you and bless you."

  * * *

  PIEBR DROVE the forward jeep. In it rode two of his plainclothes operatives, armed with handguns, equipped with hidden machine pistols and hand grenades.

  Solo drove the second jeep. Illya slouched beside him, the wind thrusting through his fair hair. Wanda sat in the back seat, armed with a machine pistol which she held across her lap.

  Piebr's intelligence had placed Pretty Wilde, the THRUSH operatives working for her, and their royal prisoner at the refinery near El Massif.

  A mile from the refinery Piebr halted. One of his operatives slid under the wheel of the forward jeep. Piebr walked back to where Solo had braked the second car.

  "I will drive from here," Piebr said. He glanced at Wanda. "You will hide all guns and grenades when we reach the gate. Our plan is that we will get in to the THRUSH agent in charge by agreeing to exchange the three of you for the kidnapped queen."

  Napoleon Solo moved over. Illya Kuryakin sat in the rear with Wanda. Piebr drove past the other jeep, and so they arrived at the chain-link fences surrounding the huge refinery. Even in the darkness the great storage tanks gleamed metallically, strung together by elephantine pipes.

  Solo whistled. Troops of mercenaries lined the roads, the fences, stood guard at all the tanks and pumping stations. They were halted at the gate while the officer in charge made a phone call.

  The duty officer replaced the receiver, stepped out of the guard shack. "Search them and send them in."

  Soldiers searched the two jeeps, confiscated all weapons and grenades. Wanda's face sagged as she watched her machine pistol added to the stack inside the guard shack.

  Three weapon carriers pulled alongside the jeeps and convoyed them to a brightly lighted administration building. A dozen armed mercenaries marched the six prisoners into the tiled-floored building. Sandbags had been placed near windows and doors.

  At a desk in the rear of a large, well-illuminated office Pretty Wilde sat with a squad of hand picked personal body guards.

  Pretty wore a bandage jauntily about her head. She stared malevolently at Wanda. Near a window Queen Soraya of Xanra sat with two ladies-in-waiting at her knees.

  "King Zud offers the agents of U.N.C.L.E. in exchange for the life and safety of Queen Xanra," Piebr said.

  Pretty Wilde smiled coldly at the new minister of security. "You speak boldly for an unarmed man."

  Piebr did not blink. "We are indeed unarmed. But this refinery is surrounded by five thousand troops, led by General Aly David."

  Pretty considered this. "Is Zud welching on his agreement with THRUSH? Our agreement to aid him in conquering Xanra, in return for certain concessions?"

  Piebr smiled coldly. "Let's say the king has reconsidered. Let me add that momentarily a flash gun will be fired over the dunes. This is the signal for our troops to attack this refinery. Small cannon are at this moment trained on those storage tanks. Does one need to do more than suggest what would happen if only one cannon scores a hit on one tank?"

  Solo saw Pretty Wilde's lovely face pale. "You play a rough game of poker, don't you?"

  "Never deceive yourself that I am bluffing. I suggest that you hastily agree that my men and I remove Queen Soraya from this imperiled zone. I believe even THRUSH might have great difficulty recovering from her death in these circumstances."

  Pretty waved her arm. "Take her and her sniveling wenches. Get her out of here."

  Piebr nodded. He and his men strode across the room, escorted the queen and the frightened ladies out of the door to a jeep. The soldiers stepped back and stood aside as the jeep raced toward the gates.

  At the precise instant that Piebr's jeep hurtled through the gate, a flare burst like a meteor over the dunes
outside the refinery.

  Its orange light illuminated the office. Pretty Wilde gazed around in panic.

  "They're attacking. Kill these three people and let's get out of here," she shouted at her bodyguard.

  But Illya Kuryakin shook his arm and let a hand grenade roll from the folds of his silk robe. "Here's one they missed!" He jerked out the pin. "Now. Pretty Wilde, your men can shoot me, but we'll all go up in the biggest holocaust this part of the world has seen since Gomorrah burned."

  "Hold your fire!" Pretty Wilde screamed in panic.

  Illya Kuryakin jerked his head toward the doors. Distantly they heard gunfire. It grew louder as Aly David's men approached, full speed.

  Solo leaped into the jeep, started the engine. Wanda dove into the rear, head first, striking the seat and lying there, face down.

  Solo had the car in motion as Illya sprang into the other seat. All over the refinery, mercenaries were running to their battle stations.

  Solo shouted at Illya. "You're still carrying that grenade!"

  "Why waste it on her?" Illya shouted.

  As they roared past a huge storage tank, Illya lobbed the grenade toward it. For an instant, breathless silence hung over the desert.

  "Faster! Faster!" Illya Kuryakin shouted.

  At that instant, the grenade exploded. Solo pressed harder on the gas. The exploding grenade burst the seam of the tank, and the second explosion followed immediately. The earth rumbled, shivering. The jeep danced wildly, turning all the way around before Napoleon Solo could right it.

  He straightened the jeep in the road again, fixed a course on the gate, pressed the accelerator as a second tank exploded, turning the sky white and the world a fiery crimson.

  The jeep danced, bounced, lurched around. Solo fought the wheel, straightening it. The outward blast of air, the savage pull of the vacuum held the car, trembling.

  "Faster!" Illya shouted in Solo's ears, hanging on to the windshield with all his strength. The heat was intense, unbearable. Ahead of them stretched the dark empty desert, so close, but suddenly an eternity removed beyond the peri meter of the exploding refinery. "Can't you go faster?"

  "I've got the pedal on the floor now!" Napoleon Solo shouted.

  But Illya Kuryakin couldn't even hear him above the scream of the flames, the roar of chain explosions. The fire reached out after them. Solo thrust down on the gas as hard as he could, looking back across his shoulder.

  They'd get away, by a whisker. No one else would, barring a miracle. That hell of solid flame was too pulverizing in its intensity to offer any chance for survival.

  Solo sighed. Pretty Wilde had been a lot of woman. It was hard to think of her charred and dead. What a waste of loveliness!

  But there was new work to be done, new girls to meet. He nodded, forced the car forward into the night, smiling.