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Everything was spinning and rocking. It was very cold. Something smelled like rotten bananas. Gradually, awareness came back and along with it, memory. He had been going home because the storm had interfered with communications in the city. THRUSH had attacked his car, killing or disabling his security, and rendering him unconscious with a sleep dart.
He remembered waking once, bound to a chair, behind some crates in a warehouse of some kind, with THRUSH henchmen talking about Dr. Dasher and his new drug that would let THRUSH conquer the world by disabling heads of state. He had been working on his bonds, when someone started a rumpus somewhere nearby. The guards rushed out to help subdue the cause of the rumpus, but he or she apparently escaped. Most of the guards returned and he was drugged again.
Now he was in a truck of some kind, traveling too rapidly along an icy road, if the frequent sliding, sideways movements, and abrupt breaking were any clue. Not a very competent driver in bad weather either. Maybe some advantage to be had there.
His wristwatch with the small spring blade was still on his wrist, so he went back to working on cutting through the ropes binding his wrists. A very useful gadget. Really, recruiting Mr. Kuryakin had been quite a good idea: an inventive and skilled engineer as well as an excellent field agent. Well worth the trouble of persuading the Russians to part with him.
He was startled by a moan from somewhere nearby. A female voice calling, “Leann, are you here? Leann?” One of the two junior agents who had disappeared was Leann Lank. Who was her partner? Ah, yes, Frances Bright.
“Miss Bright, is that you? Are you free?”
“Oh! Who’s there? What have you done to Leann?”
“This is Alexander Waverly, Miss Bright. We seem to be in an awkward situation. Are your hands free?”
“Mr. Waverly? How do I know it is really you?”
“Let’s get out of this truck and then discuss identities, please. Much easier if we can see each other.”
His hands were finally free of the ropes. Never the best restraints, ropes. Now his feet and then to see to his agents. Or whomever was pretending to be his agents.
The other person stopped moving and cried out, “Leann! Leann! Wake up! Oh, she isn’t breathing! She’s dead!”
“Agent Bright! Stop that howling at once! It will help none of us, including Miss Lank if our captors learn we are awake. Kindly remember your training.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry sir, but I think Leann, that is, Agent Lank, is dead.”
“We will find out, as soon as we are both free of our bonds. Keep talking quietly so I can find you. What are you restrained with?”
“Just rope, sir, but I haven’t been able to reach the knot. Maybe if I dislocate my thumb, I can pull free.”
“No need for that. I have you. Just hold still for a moment. There! Can you untie your feet whilst I check on Miss Lank?”
“Yes, sir. She is about two feet to my left.”
Agent Lank was indeed dead. No breathing or heartbeat and already quite cold. Very unfortunate, such a young woman and with such promise. No blood, possibly some swelling around the face and neck. Probably an allergic reaction to the knock-out drug. THRUSH wouldn’t have bound her and brought her along if they had killed her.
“I’m free now, Mr. Waverly. How is Leann, Agent Lank, I mean?”
“I’m sorry, Frances, but she is dead. Appears to have had a reaction to the knock-out drug. The best we can do to honor her is get ourselves out of here so we can foil THRUSH’s plans.”
A stifled sob, then a deep breath. “I think the door is this way; I see a bit of light.”
Good, the young woman was regaining her training. There was a dim light showing through a crack that way. The truck was bouncing on a rutted road now, making standing upright impossible. They crawled to the doors. Latched on the outside, obviously, but what he could see through the crack looked like a simple bar latch.
“Do you have anything that could be used to reach through the crack and pull that latch back?”
“I still have a wire in my bra. It isn’t actually standard issue equipment, but April Dancer recommended it since they don’t usually realize it isn’t just underwear.”
“I’ll turn my back while you retrieve it.”
The truck was too dark to see anything, but a gentleman has some standards.
A few seconds later. She said, “All right. I have it and if I straighten it, I think it will reach. Yes. I can feel the handle of the latch, but the wire keeps slipping off. Maybe if I bend the end into a loop…”
A long few minutes later, “Yes! That got it!”
Just then the truck slammed on its breaks and skidded sideways for some distance before crashing into something. The unlocked doors flew open with the impact and he was thrown out into the snow with something heavy landing on top of him.
As he tried to get his face clear of the cold, but mercifully soft stuff, the weight on his back moved slowly off him. “Mr. Waverly! Are you alright?” A small hand started brushing snow off his head and then tried to help him to his feet.
The truck was half in a ditch with the engine completely crumpled against a tree. There was no movement from inside. The moon was shining through a break in the clouds now gave enough light against the snow to see their surroundings. Not that there was much to see. A clear strip of white was apparently the road and on either side were trees, branches drooping with snow. He noticed the sign on the side of the truck said Purple Valley Banana and Exotic Fruit Company. Interesting, but useless unless they got back to headquarters alive.
There was no way to avoid leaving tracks in the snow, but it was still snowing hard enough to cover them fairly quickly. THRUSH had removed their coats and his suit jacket while searching them, and they were likely to die of hypothermia before help came. Was it safe to see if there was anything useful in the cab or might the THRUSH men still be alive and conscious? Well, if their captors were alive, they would be recaptured in a few minutes anyway and they needed anything they could salvage to survive.
“Miss Bright, do you have anything that could be used as a weapon?”
“I have a small pistol in my panty girdle, that I don’t think they found. Give me a minute.”
He turned his back again. Really, the female agents were quite ingenious at hiding devices, but in such awkward places. He would have to talk to Peggy about it, once he got home to her. He was getting home to her. Had to keep focused on a goal.
“It is only a two shot one and doesn’t have much stopping power, but against someone’s head…”
“Then let us go see what we can find in the cab.”
Just getting to the cab involved a good bit of floundering in the deep snow, but when they could finally see in the windows, it was obvious that both men were very dead. Fortunately, the young agent took the sight of death calmly. She reached in and opened the door, stepping back to let the body fall at her feet, before opening the glove compartment. He checked the driver’s side. The final tally was two handguns, one flashlight, one Hershey’s bar, one knit scarf, two caps with ear flaps, and two jackets. The boots wouldn’t fit either of them and he could only find one pair of gloves.
They each took a gun, jacket, and cap, and he handed out one glove apiece. They could keep the other hand in a pocket and trade off periodically. She insisted he take the scarf because “women have better cold resistance. They taught us that at Survival School.”
He also took the flashlight. He told himself that he should lead because he had more experience moving through woods at night, although he did have some doubts if his old eyes were really better than his young agent’s.
The only direction seemed to be back the way they came, following the road while staying in the trees as much as possible. He didn’t expect them to get very far before they froze to death, but that was better than being interrogated or experimented on by THRUSH. At least it wouldn’t further their plans and sometimes delaying the enemy’s plans was the best you could hope for.