Get Smart 7 - Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold (9 page)

Max and 99 were bound hand and foot with tape and then placed in a pair of empty cases. After that, the lids were closed.

“We’ll be back to rub you out as soon as we get an answer to the telegram,” the bandit leader advised them. “In the meantime, try to relax.”

“You fiends!” 99 cried.

“What kind of gratitude is that?” the second voice said, hurt. “Your body will probably get a free trip to New York, Paris or London out of this.”

“Let’s get going,” the leader said. “That telegram to the Chief won’t send itself.”

“With our luck, he’ll probably be away on vacation,” the second voice said.

The bandits could be heard departing. Then the tomb became quiet.

“Max . . .” 99 whimpered.

“I know, 99, we’re in a very tough spot. I can’t see any possible way out of this. Unless, of course, the Chief has returned from vacation and he sends someone to rescue us when he gets that telegram. But how would our rescuer know where to look? The bandits probably won’t mention the location of their hideout in that telegram.”

“The mission is a total failure, Max.”

“I know. Von BOOM is probably wandering around out there in the desert again. If KAOS doesn’t find him first, he’ll undoubtedly die of thirst or hunger or exposure—or all three.”

“I wonder what happened to him, Max?”

“Didn’t I make that clear? He wandered off. Apparently, I said the wrong thing again.”

“But, Max, he was there when we went to sleep.”

“99, just forget it.”

“But, Max, I don’t understand. How could you have said the wrong thing? You weren’t awake.”

“99, please—it’s very embarrassing.”

“Max . . . you mean . . .”

“All right, now you know—I talk in my sleep, 99. I’ve been trying to cure myself of the habit for years. But nothing works.” He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I guess I’ll be cured of it now, though. I’ve never heard of a corpse talking in its sleep.”

“That’s what I like about you, Max. You always see the bright side.”

“Thank you, 99. I hope we both get sent to the same museum.”

“Max—I think I heard something! The bandits must be coming back!”

“That was quick. There must be a telegraph office right here in the tomb.”

“Maybe they phoned it in.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose that could explain it.”

A few seconds later, they heard voices—but not the voices of the bandits. The speakers had British accents.

“Desmond, we’ve been in here before,” the first voice said. “I recognize the surroundings. There—those mummy cases—they’re all vacant, remember?”

“I’d be the last chap in the world to dispute your word, Archie,” a second voice replied. “But the surroundings are totally unfamiliar to me. And how do you know that those cases are empty? They’re all closed.”

“Shall I prove it to you, dear boy?”

“I’d be much obliged, Archie.”

The lid of Max’s mummy case was lifted. Max found himself peering up into the faces of two middle-aged men who were dressed in khaki and wearing pith helmets. One had a drooping handle-bar mustache: The other did not.

“There you are, chap—vacant as dear old Mother Hubbard’s jam closet.”

“Archie, old boy, I’d be the last person in the world to dispute your word,” Desmond responded. “But isn’t that foreign-looking blighter in there a mummy? He has all the characteristics. The tape, you know. And that unhealthy complexion. I do believe he’s crumbling to dust.”

“For your information,” Max said, “I have a very
healthy
complexion. And I am not a mummy. At least, I hope I’m not. I was childless when I was put in here.”

Archie and Desmond exchanged looks.

“Fantastic,” Desmond said. “Perfect preservation. He must be thousands of years old, and yet he functions as well as the day he was placed in this case. Too bad we don’t savvy his tongue, eh, chap? What a story he must have to tell!”

“You idiots!” Max raged. “I’m not a mummy. I’m Agent 86. I’m a Control agent. Now, get me out of here!”

Again, Desmond and Archie exchanged looks.

“What do you make of it?” Desmond asked.

“Quite unbelievable, old boy. He claims to be a Control agent. Yet, Control is an American organization. And, thousands of years ago, America did not even exist.”

“Do you suppose he’s putting us on, Archie?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised, Des. He does have that foreign look, you know.”

“Max! Convince them!” 99 cried.

Desmond’s eyebrows shot up. “Jove! Did you hear that? It came from this other mummy case, didn’t it?”

“Wouldn’t that be a bit of too much, chap—two mummies in one day?” Archie replied. “No, I rather suspect that the truth of the matter is that this one—” He indicated Max. “—is a ventriloquist.”

“Throwing his voice?”

“Let’s just open up this other case,” Archie said, “and I think we’ll find that it’s— Well, well, what have we here?” He smiled. “And I suppose, my dear, that you’re a Control agent, too, eh?”

“99,” 99 nodded.

“Looks like we’re going to have a busy day on our hands, Des,” Archie said.

“Really? How so?”

“Well, that first one identified himself as 86, and this one claims to be 99. Obviously, that means that these other cases contain 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97 and 98. Rather a haul, I’d say.”

“Deuce!” Desmond grumbled. “We’ll be tied up ’way past tea time.”

“Will you muttonheads listen!” Max said angrily. “We’re American secret agents. We were kidnapped by river pirates. They’re on their way to send a ransom telegram now. And if you two don’t get us—and yourselves—out of here, we’ll all soon be in the same kettle of fish!”

Desmond and Archie looked at each other once more.

“He could be telling the truth, Des,” Archie said. “Unlikely, of course, but possible.”

“Terrible thing if we made a mistake,” Desmond nodded.

“Very British of us, though—and therefore forgivable.”

“I rather think I have the solution to the matter, chap,” Desmond said. “Let’s transport them back to Alexandria, shall we? There, we can show them to the authorities and get an expert opinion on their story.”

“Brilliant—so un-British of you, Desmond. Although, we may have a bit of a time, carrying them back, cases and all, on our motorbike.”

“Wasn’t that a houseboat we saw down by the river?” Desmond said. “Perhaps we could commandeer it.”

“Pardon, old boy?”

“Steal it.”

“Now then, that’s the Desmond I know,” Archie beamed.

The two archeologists removed Max and 99 from the cases, then unwrapped their legs so that they could walk, leaving them bound above the waist. They then picked up the cases, and the four set out for the river.

“I say, Des, why are we bringing the cases?” Archie inquired.

“For identification purposes, old boy. As I understand it, it’s very difficult to tell a mummy without its case.”

“Jove! What one learns in the course of— I say! There’s the houseboat. And that must be the captain there on deck.”

“Max!” 99 said. “It’s von BOOM!”

“No need to shout,” Desmond said disapprovingly.

As they neared the houseboat, Professor von BOOM called out to them. “There you are!” he said crossly. “Where’ve you been?”

“Just over yonder in the tomb, old fellow,” Desmond replied. “Terribly decent of you to worry. I didn’t even think you saw us when we passed this way before.”

Baffled, von BOOM looked at Max.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Max said glumly. “They think we’re mummies.”

“As a matter of fact, the case is still in court,” Archie said. “The evidence seems to indicate that they’re mummies. We discovered them in these cases, swathed in tape. That certainly has a mummy ring to it. However—”

“They’ve cooked up a bit of a story,” Desmond said, taking over. “Outlandish. Claim to have been American secret agents at a time when America hadn’t even been discovered yet. Consequently, we’re transporting them to Alexandria to have them authenticated.” He smiled broadly. “That’s why we’re commandeering your boat, old fellow.”

“Pardon?” von BOOM said, still puzzled.

“Stealing.”

“Say—are you two British?”

“Let’s the cat out of the bag every time, doesn’t it, Des,” Archie mused.

“If you two will just listen for a minute,” Max began.

“Later, chap,” Desmond interrupted. “Work to be done, you know.” He turned to Archie. “Shall we shove off?”

“Charming thought, old boy!”

Archie and Desmond set about getting the houseboat back out onto the river.

“What the devil is going on?” von BOOM said to Max.

“You’re a fine one to ask that,” Max replied. “Where were you when those river pirates kidnapped us?”

“Pirates? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was reading and the light suddenly went out. I went down the basement to change the fuse, and when I came back, you were both gone.”

“That isn’t important now,” 99 said. “Get us out of this tape.”

As quickly as he could, von BOOM unwrapped the lengths of tape that were binding Max and 99. Just as he finished the job, Archie and Desmond reappeared, having successfully launched the houseboat.

“I’m afraid we’ll have to take offense at that, old fellow,” Desmond said to von BOOM. “Diddling with another person’s property is . . . well, it’s—”

“Very British,” Archie said.

“Even so, we can’t allow it,” Desmond continued. “Very important, you know, to have these two authenticated. And, loose like this, they might take advantage of the freedom and trot off to . . . to Heaven knows where. Under the circumstances, I rather believe we’ll have to hold you all prisoner.” He turned to Archie. “Do you have the firearm, old chap?” he asked.

“Now, look—” Max said.

“Terribly sorry, Des. I believe I left it on the motorbike,” Archie broke in.

Desmond chuckled. “Oh, Archie, you
are
your father’s son, aren’t you?”

“Yes . . . afraid so. You see, I had it here in my rear pocket, and the motorbike was jouncing around— What, ho! Here it is, Des. I didn’t leave it on the motorbike, after all. There’s a good bit of mother in me, too, apparently.” He handed a pistol to Desmond.

Desmond, in turn, pointed it in the general direction of Max, 99 and von BOOM. “Since we seem to hold all the cards, and since it’s such a beastly hot day, shall we all just sit down, and, as the Americans say, refrigerate it?” he smiled.

“Cool it,” Max corrected.

“Ah, yes—slang terms haven’t changed much in thousands and thousands of years, eh?”

They all settled into deck chairs.

“Too bad we can’t phone ahead to the papers, Des,” Archie said. “This will raise quite a flap, I imagine—two mummies, thousands and thousands of years old, and still living. It’s the sort of thing the press makes a large to-do about.”

“Would be rather nice,” Desmond agreed. “But, of course, there’s no way to signal.”

“Far be it from me to be a sorehead,” Max said. “If you want to, you can use my shoe.”

“How very accommodating.”

Max removed his shoe and handed it to Desmond who got up and began waving it about.

“That won’t work,” Max said.

“I’m perfectly aware of that, chap. But, since you were so nice to offer it, I thought I’d at least go through the motions.”

“It’s a telephone,” Max explained. “Remove the heel and dial.”

Doubtfully, Desmond detached the heel. Finding the dial, he brightened. “By Harry! I’ve heard that you chaps back in ancient times were centuries ahead of us in some matters, but this— Fantastic!”

He dialed the Information Operator in Alexandria and got the numbers of the various newspapers, then telephoned each one and talked to a reporter. After he had finished spreading the news, he handed Max’s shoe back to him.

“They’ll all be at the dock to meet us,” Desmond advised Archie. “I suspect, old chap, that we’re in for a round of world-wide acclaim. Famous, and all that rot.”

“You’ll look like a couple of hoods, carrying that gun,” Max said.

Desmond sat up, startled. “Good gracious! You’re absolutely right. A pistol would look frightful in the newspaper pictures.”

“Chuck it overboard, Des,” Archie said.

“I hesitate to, old boy. It’s not mine, it’s yours.”

“Oh, yes—forgot about that. And it’s been in the family for such a terribly long time. It’s the one daddy always misplaced just before he went into battle in World War I.”

“Maybe I could help,” Max suggested. “I wouldn’t mind holding it for you—until after all the fuss and the picture-taking and all is over.”

“You know,” Desmond said, handing over the pistol, “you’re not really a bad sort at all—for a mummy.”

Max pointed the gun at them. “Hands up, and don’t move.”

“I rather think I’ll withdraw that last compliment,” Desmond said.

“Serves him right, too, Des,” Archie said grumpily.

“But, Max, what will we do with them?” 99 said.

“For starters, kick them off our boat,” Max replied.

“Max, those reporters are expecting them in Alexandria. If they’re not aboard, there’ll be an investigation. We’ll lose so much time.”

Max thought for a moment. He looked from Archie to Desmond, then from Desmond to Archie, then stared for a few seconds at the mummy cases.

“The problem is solved, 99,” Max said.

Two days later, the houseboat reached Alexandria. The dock was swarming with newspaper reporters. “Where are they?” the reporters called, scrambling aboard as the boat tied up at the pier.

“You’ll find what you’re looking for in the basement,” Max replied.

The reporters pushed past him and disappeared below. Max, 99 and von BOOM hurried ashore and rushed away. A few minutes later, they got into a taxi and ordered the driver to take them to the airport.

“Max . . . Desmond and Archie are going to be very angry,” 99 said.

“I doubt it, 99. That would be un-British.”

M
AX
, 99 and von BOOM entered the crowded airport terminal and started toward the ticket desk. But Max suddenly stopped.

“Let’s not forget, 99,” he said, “we’re back in civilization now. So watch out for KAOS agents. Don’t trust anyone. Remember Rule No. 26: Suspect First, Think Later!”