The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold

The driver turned in the seat and looked at them. “You’re from out of town, eh?” he said.

“Yes, yes-hurry,” Max said.

“I can’t do it,” the driver said. “It’s the code of the Spanish taxi drivers never to take undue advantage of a tourist. I can’t cheat you. There’s no need to go all the way into town to the post office. There’s a mailbox right inside the terminal.”

“Look-” Max began wearily.

“Max, let me try,” 99 said. She addressed the driver. “It’s very simple,” she said. “We don’t want to mail a letter. We’re looking for someone-a small, dumpy man who looks as if he needs a keeper. We think we may find him at the post office.”

The driver peered at her, scowling, then looked at Max. “A small, dumpy guy that looks like he needs a keeper, eh, lady? What do you want with two of them? Trying to make up a set?”

“I am not dumpy,” Max said.

“Could you just take us to the post office?” 99 said. “And let us worry about the reason?”

The driver shrugged and faced front. “Why not?” he said. “The code of the Spanish cab driver is: If some tourist nut insists on getting took-be of service.”

A half-hour later, they reached the post office, located in the center of Madrid. Max and 99 jumped out and headed up the steps-just as von BOOM came out the door and headed down the steps.

“Professor!” Max called.

But at that same instant, from behind them, came the sound of thundering hoofs, which drowned-out Max’s shout. Whipping around, Max and 99 saw a solid wall of fierce-looking bulls pounding toward them through the street.

“Well, now we know what that ticket clerk meant, 99,” Max said.

“When he said to watch out for what we Americans call policemen? You mean he meant-”

“Bulls,” Max nodded.

“Max! We’ll be trampled!”

“Run, 99!”

“But, Max! The Professor!”

“99, the Professor is already a block ahead of us. Now, run!”

Max and 99 raced up the street, with the bulls thundering behind them, getting closer. Ahead of them, Professor von BOOM drew farther and farther away.

“He sprints very nicely for a small, dumpy man,” Max commented.

“Max, run faster! If we don’t, we’ll not only lose von BOOM, but the bulls will get us.”

“You know, actually, this is the sort of thing we ought to relax and enjoy, 99,” Max said. “This is not just a simple stampede. It’s a ceremony.”

“Really, Max?”

“Oh, yes. This is the way the bull-fighting season starts. The bulls are chased through the streets to the bull ring. It’s a very interesting and colorful sight. That is, it is if you happen to be behind the bulls.”

“Max, we’re gaining on von BOOM.”

“I knew he’d slow up sooner or later, carrying all that dump with him.”

“But. . Max. . the bulls are gaining on us!”

“See that corner up ahead, 99? According to my calculations, the three of us, you and I and von BOOM, will reach it at the same moment. You get the Professor by the right hand, and I’ll get him by the left hand, and we’ll steer him around the corner.”

“Good thinking, Max!”

A few moments later, they reached the corner. 99 got von BOOM by the right hand. Max got him by the left hand. Then they turned. Unfortunately, 99 turned left, and Max turned right. They collided, bumped heads, and dropped to the street, unconscious. Professor von BOOM had just enough time to drag them both to safety before the bulls went thundering past.

After a while, Max and 99 regained consciousness. Professor von BOOM helped them to their feet.

“It worked, 99,” Max said. “We saved him. Look, he doesn’t have a scratch on him. But, let’s not waste a lot of time congratulating ourselves,” he said, getting out the international flight schedule. “We still have to get to Vladivostok. Now here. . here’s a flight to Athens from Madrid. And, with any luck at all, it will get us there in time to connect with the flight from Athens to Vladivostok.”

“My hunch is we won’t even make it back to the airport,” von BOOM said.

“That’s not a very nice thing for a man to say who’s just been rescued from a stampede of bulls,” Max replied peevishly.

They returned to the street that had recently been the stomping ground for the herd of bulls, then signalled a cab and rode back to the airport.

“Found him, I see,” the porter said, as they entered the terminal. “I didn’t think he’d get very far without a stamp on him.”

Max did not try again to explain.

They moved on to the ticket desk. Max got three oneway tickets to Athens, and a while later they boarded the plane.

As the airliner took off, 99 relaxed in her seat and closed her eyes.

“Better stay awake, 99,” Max said. “The whole plane could be infested with KAOS agents for all we know.”

“Max. .” she replied wearily, “. . I’ve been awake for so many hours, I’ve stopped counting. We’ve been chasing all over Europe and half of Asia, hopping on planes, hopping off planes, running from bulls, arguing with taxi drivers. . Max, I’m exhausted.”

“But somebody has to keep an eye on von BOOM, 99.”

“Can’t you do it, Max?”

“99, I’ve been chasing all over Europe and half of Asia, hopping on planes, hopping off planes, running from bulls, arguing with taxi drivers. . I think I deserve a little nap.”

“Sorry, Max. . selfish of me. Nighty-night, Max.”

Max soon dozed off. But his nap was short-lived. He was suddenly aroused by the voice of the pilot over the loud-speaker.

“Tenshun, yawl!” the voice said. “This hyar’s yur pilot, ol’ Migale Orteeze from the Southa Spain. Now, Ah don’ want none of yawl fine folks to panic-but we got ourselves a specka trouble.”

“We lost a wing!” Max said, sitting up, panicking.

“Now, don’ get nothin’ fancy in yur heads-like this ol’ flappin’ chicken lost a wing nur nothin’,” the voice continued. “ ’Cause it ain’t nothin’ like that a-tall. Why, I wouldn’ hardly bother to mention it, ’cept I get such a ding-dongy kick outa talkin’ to ya over this hyar squawky-box. What it is, ya see, they’s all fogged-in there at that Athens place. Wheweeee! They say the fog’s so thick on the ground there, you could cut it up in li’l ol’ sqars and sell it for tattletale gray ice cubes. That’s a little humor there to keep up yur spirits.”

“I’ll bet he’s going to tell us we have to turn back,” Max said.

“No, as a fact, I ain’t,” the voice said. “What we’re gonna do is, see, we’re gonna go to our alternate. That’s the place where ya go when you cain’t get in to the place where yur goin’. Now, our alternate, accordin’ to this slippy little piecea paper they give me, is some li’l ol’ town in Egypt. It’s called Alexandria. Anybody ever been there? Well, no bother. It’ll be a nice little surprise for all of us. So, let’s jus’ settle back, folks, an’ think about that raggety-tag ol’ rip-roarin’ time we’re gonna have when we get to Alexandria-that is, if ah can find it.”

The loudspeaker became silent.

“A fine can of beans,” Max grumbled. “Back to Alexandria. We just left there.”

“Max, that was yesterday,” 99 pointed out.

“About this same time yesterday,” von BOOM said.

“That’s right,” Max nodded. “In fact, with any luck, we ought to be able to catch the flight to Vladivostok that we missed yesterday.”

When the plane landed at Alexandria, Max, 99 and von BOOM rushed into the terminal and up to the ticket desk.