Get Smart 7 - Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold (12 page)

“That’s better,” Max said. “Now, see? Isn’t that a lot less trouble than running?”

“Max, what is going on? What are you doing?” 99 said.

He looked at her baffledly. “99, I just captured a KAOS agent. You heard him confess.”

“He’s just frightened, Max. And no wonder! Why were you chasing him all over the train?”

“He—99, let’s start back at the beginning. You screamed. I rushed out into the aisle. You pointed out this man as a KAOS agent. I—”

99 was shaking her head. “I said ‘agent,’ Max. Not KAOS agent—just ‘agent.’ He’s a ticket agent. He was trying to collect my ticket.”

“But, you screamed, 99.”

“He surprised me. He opened the door without knocking.”

“Why should I knock?” the man said. “I called in to you. I said, ‘tickets, please.’ ”

“I didn’t hear you,” 99 explained. “So, when I saw you, I was startled.” She turned back to Max. “And I screamed. But, Max, couldn’t you guess that he was a ticket agent? Didn’t you notice his uniform?”

“I thought it was a mod suit,” Max explained. He shrugged. “Well, no harm done,” he said. He handed the man his and von BOOM’s tickets. “This will save you the trouble of stopping at our compartment,” he said.

The man punched the tickets, then moved on down the aisle, calling in at one compartment door after another.

“I’m famished after that run,” Max said. “Shall we go to dinner?”

“If you promise to stop seeing KAOS agents everywhere,” 99 said.

“99, I don’t see any KAOS agents at all. That’s why I keep seeing them everywhere.”

Max led the way through the train toward the dining car. Seeing him coming, other passengers dived to the right and left to avoid getting run down.

“It’s all right . . . relax,” Max told them. “It was a false alarm.”

When they reached the dining room and the waiters spotted Max they rushed to the tables to protect them.

“Easy does it. It was a false alarm,” Max repeated.

“People certainly get to know you quickly,” von BOOM said.

“Yes. It’s my friendly manner,” Max nodded.

They selected a table and ordered and very quickly their food was served to them.

“Marvelous service,” Max commented.

“Self-defense,” von BOOM guessed. “They want to get you out of here as quickly as they can.”

“And the food is marvelous, too,” 99 said, eating. “This goulash is simply out of this world.”

“These French fries are terrible,” von BOOM grumbled. “The Russians just can’t make French fries the way the Americans can.”

“How is your salad?” Max asked.

“Worse. The Russians don’t know the first thing about making a Russian dressing.”

“That hamburger looks good, though,” 99 said.

“Horrible,” von BOOM growled. “The idiots made it with ham.”

The rest of the meal was eaten in silence. When it was finished, the waiter left the check at the table.

“Does anybody know how much to tip a Russian waiter?” Max asked.

Von BOOM got up and headed toward the far end of the dining car.

“Max! Get him!” 99 said.

“It’s all right, 99. He’s going to the kitchen. He wants to complain to the chef.”

“But, Max, you said ‘tip.’ ”

“I’m aware of that, 99,” Max replied. “I still contend that he’s going to the kitchen, though. Think, 99. Where are we? We’re in a dining car. A dining car is a restaurant on wheels. Would it make any sense to leave a restaurant to go to a restaurant? I knew when I said it that, as long as we were in a restaurant, anyway, it was perfectly safe to say ‘tip.’ ”

“Max, I’m just— Max! The train is stopping! Something has happened to Professor von BOOM!”

“Nonsense, 99. You’re a worry-wort. Look out the window. This is a regular stop, that’s all. See the little village?”

“Oh. Oh . . . yes. You’re right, Max, I was foolish to worry.”

“Of course, 99. See? The train is starting up again. It probably stopped to let off a passenger—somebody who lives in that little village. Now, it will— There—look, 99. See that dumpy little man on the platform? He’s probably the one who got off. There was absolutely—”

“Max!” 99 screeched. “That dumpy little man! That’s Professor von BOOM!”

Max peered out the window. “He
is
dumpy, 99. But I don’t—”

“Max, I know it’s him!”

“Follow me, 99. We’ll check it out.”

They got up and walked to the end of the car. “Did you see a dumpy—” Max started to say to a waiter who was standing there.

“He got off at the last stop,” the waiter broke in.

“Quick, Max! After him!” 99 cried.

With Max in the lead, they rushed out to the platform. The train had picked up a good bit of speed.

“Jump, 99!”

Together, they leaped from the platform, and together they hit the ground and then rolled, ending up in a tangle in a ditch. The train sped on, leaving them.

“It’s a good thing Control gives its agents parachute training,” Max said, rising and helping 99 to her feet. “Otherwise, we might have been killed.”

“Max, I don’t see him.”

“Of course not, 99. We must be at least a mile from the station. Hurry.”

Running as fast as they could, they rushed back to the village, then began going from restaurant to restaurant asking about von BOOM. Since there were only two restaurants, the task did not take long. At the first restaurant they were advised that the last little dumpy man who had been there was a Frenchman named Napoleon who had stopped for a sandwich on his way to Moscow. The proprietor of the second restaurant was more helpful, however.

“Dumpy?” he said. “How dumpy? About like you?”

“Much dumpier,” Max replied crisply.

“I saw him,” the proprietor replied. “He passed the restaurant only a few minutes ago.”

“Passed?” Max said, surprised.

“He went thataway,” the proprietor nodded, pointing up the street.

Max and 99 hurried in the direction the man had pointed. They soon reached the end of the business district.

“Gone, Max!” 99 wailed.

“He must be in one of these houses, 99.”

“But he should be in a restaurant.”

“Maybe he smelled home-cooking. Come on. We’ll just have to go from door to door until we find him.”

At the first house, there was no answer to their knock. At the second house, the woman who answered said that she hadn’t seen a dumpy little man since her neighbor, the man next door, had left for Leningrad two weeks earlier. At the third house, the door was opened by a dumpy little man.

“No, I haven’t seen anybody in town lately,” he replied to Max’s question. “I just got off the Trans Siberian Railway. I’ve been in Leningrad for the past two weeks.”

Max clapped a hand to his brow. “Von BOOM!”

“No need to shout,” the dumpy little man said.

“We’re sorry,” 99 told him. “We thought you were somebody else.”

“Two weeks in Leningrad changes a person,” the dumpy little man said. He closed the door.

“Max, do you realize what this means?” 99 said. “Professor von BOOM is still on the train! We’ve lost him!”

“Not yet, 99. Let’s get to the airport, hire a plane, and catch the train at the next stop.”

“Brilliant, Max!”

They rushed back to the second restaurant.

“Quick!” Max said to the proprietor. “Where’s the airport?”

The proprietor frowned thoughtfully. “Behind the bag of onions?” he guessed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Max asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve never even played this game before.”

“It isn’t a game,” Max said. “We have to get to the airport. We need a fast plane—and fast!”

“You’re asking directions from the wrong person,” the proprietor said. “I didn’t even know we had an airport until you mentioned it.”

“No airport, Max!” 99 groaned.

“All right, we’ll just have to settle for a fast car,” Max said. “Is there a fast car in town?” he asked the proprietor.

“You know it, buddy!” the proprietor beamed. “We got an American car. Zoom! It’s the same kind of car all you Americans drive on your super highways. Zoom! Zoom! Zoom! It’s what you Americans call a bestseller. Everybody in the United States who is anybody has a car like this. Zoom!”

“A Ford!” Max said. “Great. Now—”

The proprietor was shaking his head.

“A Chevy?” Max said.

“You don’t know much about America,” the proprietor said. “This is the most popular car on the road. Ready? An Edsel!”

“We’ll give it a try,” Max said gloomily.

The proprietor telephoned his brother-in-law, the owner of the Edsel, and a few minutes later he drove up to the restaurant. Max and 99 got in and the car sped off, headed for the town at which the train was scheduled to stop next.

“Will we make it?” Max asked the driver.

“In a breeze,” he replied. “I wound the key as tight as it would go.”

“This is a wind-up car!” Max said, appalled.

“My own invention,” the driver replied. “It saves on gas.”

They reached the town just as the train, which had stopped, was pulling out again. Max and 99 jumped from the car, raced along the platform, and leaped aboard the train, catching it at the very moment that it started to pick up speed.

“By a whisker!” Max breathed. “Now—let’s find von BOOM!”

They ran along the aisle toward the front of the train. Other passengers dived to the left and right to avoid getting run down. A few moments later, they reached the dining car. Max spotted the waiter who had served them.

“A dumpy little man—did you see him?” he panted.

“I hope I never see him again,” the waiter replied irritably. “First, he spent about an hour in the kitchen, complaining about the food. Then he committed an unpardonable sin.”

“Von BOOM?” Max said doubtfully.

“You don’t have to shout,” the waiter said.

“What did he do?”

“Well, when he came back from the kitchen, I handed him the check, and he paid it. Then I said, ‘What about my tip?’ and he turned on his heel and walked up the aisle and then got off the train.”

“Oh, no!” 99 wept.

“Yep,” the waiter nodded. “Got off the train. At that last stop there.”

“You shouldn’t have mentioned ‘tip!’ ” Max scolded. “Come on,” he said to 99. “It’s Geronimo time again!”

Max and 99 ran toward the end of the car.

“What do you mean, shouldn’t have mentioned tip?” the waiter shouted after them. “Don’t you bums know anything about American customs!”

Max and 99 reached the platform.

“Geronimo!” Max cried.

They jumped, hit the ground, rolled, and ended up in a tangle.

“Max, we’re miles from the station,” 99 said, struggling up.

“I can’t even see the Professor,” Max said.

“Max . . . didn’t we get those lines mixed up?”

“I believe so, 99. Let’s try it again. You first.”

“Max, I can’t even see the Professor.”

“We’re miles from the station, 99.”

Running as fast as they could, Max and 99 hurried back to the village they had just left. Reaching there, they asked the station master if he had seen von BOOM.

“Dumpy little fellow? Sure,” the man replied. “He asked me where he could find the nearest restaurant. I told him we don’t have a restaurant. So he decided to move on. There was some fellow here with one of those big, sleek American cars, so this other fellow hired him to take him to the next stop so he could catch the train again. They just left. Zoom!—that ol’ key unwindin’ like a madman!”

“Quick—is there another fast car in town?” Max asked.

“Fellow, this town hasn’t even got a restaurant.”

“Sunk!” Max groaned. “We’ll never catch him now.”

“If you want to catch that train, why don’t you just hike out to the airport and hire yourself a fast plane?” the station master suggested.

“You don’t have a restaurant, yet you have an airport?”

“You’re in a country where all the decisions are made in Moscow,” the man replied. “With a system like that, one town gets a restaurant and another gets an airport—but neither get both.”

Running as fast as they could, Max and 99 rushed to the airfield. After a few minutes of bargaining with a pilot who did not speak English they were finally able to make themselves understood. And seconds later they took off. It was a short flight to the next train stop. When they landed, they leaped from the plane and rushed into town to the station. They reached it just as the train was pulling out.

Max and 99 jumped aboard, then raced down the aisle toward the front of the train. The other passengers, tired of diving to the left and right, ignored them—and a number of them got run down.

Max and 99 rushed into the compartment that Max shared with von BOOM. The Professor was seated by the window, reading a newspaper.

“Safe!” 99 cried joyfully.

“Has somebody been chasing you?” von BOOM inquired.

“Not exactly,” Max replied, dropping into the seat that faced him. “We’ve been chasing
you,
Professor—all over Russia. We lost you, but then we found you—almost—and then we lost you, and then . . . well, here we are. Saved again!”

“Again?” von BOOM asked.

“Remember that experience with those hundreds and hundreds of bulls?” Max replied. “That was the first time. So, this makes the second time.”

“That’s a lot of bulls,” von BOOM said, retreating behind the newspaper.

T
HE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON
when Max, 99 and von BOOM were relaxing in the observation car, the train halted at a small town—then remained sitting. Curious, Max motioned to a conductor.

“Why aren’t we moving?” he asked.

“We’re picking up a special car,” the conductor replied. “In a few minutes, you’ll feel a bump. Then, if you look at the rear window, you’ll see another car attached to the train.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “Russian secret police?” he asked.

The conductor shook his head. “We Russian secret police go around disguised as ordinary citizens,” he replied. “Like waiters and traveling salesmen and . . . uh . . .”

“Train conductors?”

“Right—train conductors. It’d be stupid for us to ride around in special cars and get attached to regular trains in the middle of the day in little out-of-the-way villages. When the special car was being hitched-on and the passengers felt the bump, they’d say, ‘There’re the secret police again.’ ”