Max handed the tickets back to him. “Nevermind.”
He returned to where 99 and von BOOM were waiting and explained that the next flight to Vladivostok would not be leaving until the following day.
“Max, that means we’ll have to stay here almost twenty-four hours,” 99 said. “And every minute of delay gives KAOS that much more time to try to kidnap Professor von BOOM.”
“I know, 99. But what can we do? There’s no possible- Wait a minute. I have an idea.”
Max made another trip to the ticket desk. When he returned he was carrying a thick folder. “This is the international airlines schedule,” he explained. “It lists the departure and arrival times of every flight in the world. It’s just possible that we can get to Vladivostok by way of somewhere else.” He opened the schedule and studied it for a few moments, then suddenly brightened. “There’s a plane leaving here for Paris in a few minutes,” he said. “And, with a little luck, we can connect with a plane that flies from Paris to Vladivostok.”
“Wonderful, Max!”
“Why don’t we just get a plane straight to the North Pole?” von BOOM suggested.
Max consulted the schedule again. “Because there’s only one flight a year to the Pole,” he said, after a second. “And we missed it by six months. Besides, it only flies over the Pole. It doesn’t stop.”
“At the rate we’re going, and all the trouble we’re having, I still think that would be the quickest and easiest,” von BOOM said.
Max let the comment pass and returned to the ticket counter and purchased three one-way tickets to Paris. Then he and 99 and von BOOM boarded the plane, which was ready to depart. A few minutes later, the plane took off.
Max looked around at the other passengers. “Did you happen to see anyone who looks like a KAOS agent, 99?” he said.
“No, Max.”
He faced front. “Just keep alert for anything suspicious,” he said. “KAOS is probably getting desperate by now. They’re liable to try anything.”
The stewardess appeared. “Coffee, tea or coke?” she smiled.
“Doped or un-doped?” Max shot back.
“Oh, you must be that crazy secret agent,” the stewardess said. “The ticket clerk told me you’d be aboard.”
“He promised he wouldn’t blab it around,” Max said, disappointed.
“It’s all right,” the stewardess replied. “I’m a secret agent, too. I’m the secret agent in charge of observing secret agents entering France. Now. . what will it be? Coffee, tea or coke-doped or un-doped?”
“We’ll pass,” Max said.
Several hours later, the airliner landed in Paris. Max, 99 and von BOOM hurried into the terminal and rushed to the ticket counter.
“Three one-way tickets to Vladivostok-and snap to it!” Max ordered.
“Yes, sir!” the clerk replied. Quickly, he tore three tickets from a roll, stamped them, and handed them to Max. “There you are. Fast enough?”
“Very good,” Max said. “Now, where do we get the plane?”
“In Berlin, Germany,” the clerk replied. “That’s its next stop. It left here about a quarter of an hour ago.”
Max sighed gloomily. “And the next flight to Vladivostok doesn’t leave until tomorrow, I suppose,” he said.
“Say, you know the schedule pretty well,” the clerk said. “Try this one: If you were an American businessman and you had an appointment for lunch at the
“That’s a toughy,” Max scowled, opening his international schedule.
“Max. .”
“Just a minute, 99. The answer should be. . Yes, this is it.” He faced the ticket clerk again. “By way of London, Rotterdam and Dusseldorf,” he said.
“Wrong. You’d go outside and get a taxi and take it into town. The
Max glared at him. “Nobody likes a smart ticket clerk,” he said. “Just exchange these three one-way tickets to Vladivostok for three one-way tickets to Madrid.”
“Madrid, Max?” 99 said.
“While I was looking up that answer, 99, I happened to notice that there’s a daily flight from Madrid to Vladivostok. We can make the connection, I think, if we can get on the plane that’s leaving here for Madrid in exactly-” He looked at his watch. “-four minutes.”
“If you’re going to Madrid,” the clerk said, “ I can give you a tip. Don’t-”
Von BOOM started to wander away. Max grabbed him and escorted him back to the counter.
“We don’t need a you-know-what,” Max said to the clerk. “Just give us the tickets.”
“All right,” the clerk said, handing Max the tickets. “But when you get to Madrid, watch out for what you Americans call the policemen.”
“The what?” 99 asked.
“Nevermind, 99,” Max said, urging her away. “We’ll miss the plane.”
They rushed from the terminal and got aboard the airliner only moments before it started to taxi out to the runway. They had been settled in their seats for only a few seconds when it took off.
“What do we Americans call policemen, Max?” 99 said puzzledly.
“Fuzz, 99.”
“Why are we supposed to watch out for fuzz in Madrid?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because it tickles. That ticket clerk probably doesn’t want us to enjoy ourselves.”
In time, the plane landed in Madrid. Max, 99 and von BOOM hurried into the terminal. But there was a long line at the ticket desk.
“Oh, Max, this
“I’ll see if we can get some rush service,” Max said, leading the way to the head of the line. “Excuse me,” he said to the clerk, “but could we-”
“End of the line,” the clerk said.
“But, we-”
“End of the line.”
Max shrugged, then led the way back to the end of the line. “It’s moving quickly,” he said to 99. “And there’s still a half-hour before that plane is scheduled to leave for Vladivostok. So we’ll probably make it.”
“I hope so, Max. We’ve missed so many- Max! Professor von BOOM! He’s gone!”
“Drat! What did I say?”
“It wasn’t you, Max. It was that clerk. He said ‘end of the line.’ Line! Von BOOM must be looking for the post office.”
Max and 99 rushed to the exit and looked out. Von BOOM was nowhere in sight.
“Quick-where is the post office?” Max said to a porter who was standing nearby.
“If you’re in that big a hurry, why don’t you just drop it in a mailbox?” the porter replied. He pointed. “There’s one over there.”
“No, no, I’m looking for a dumpy little fellow who looks like he needs a keeper,” Max replied.
“You’d have better luck dropping it into a mailbox,” the porter told him. “They don’t make pickups at dumpy little men who look like they need keepers.”
“I’m not trying to mail a letter,” Max said. “I’m looking for a lost scientist.”
“I see. And you think somebody found him and will probably mail him back to you. I don’t think they’d take him all the way into town to the post office, though. Not with that mailbox so handy. Have you looked in the mailbox?”
“Forget it,” Max said.
Max and 99 dashed from the terminal and got into the back seat of a cab that was parked at the curb.
“Quick! To the post office!” Max commanded.
