First Night
Emma Peel and John Steed laughed gaily as they drove down the road toward their apartment. When they reached Primrose Crescent, Steed turned instead of going straight. "I thought I'd remind Tara in person of our little fete tonight at our place. It's so much friendlier than talking to her over the phone."
Mrs. Steed shrugged her slim shoulders nonchalantly, which indicated that she was fine with either scheme. The two soon entered Miss King's flat, but obviously she was not there. Puzzled but not too concerned, the duo traveled home where interesting turns of event were about to take place.
Steed and Emma entered their cozy flat with their treasured bottles of champagne and Katie. They discussed where they thought Tara might be, not heeding Herr Starker mumbling something about finding his true love. Suddenly they spotted the bulky German.
"What are you doing in our flat?" Steed demanded as he gently set his champers aside.
"I vas vith Tara, but now she has vanished!" cried Starker.
"So you helped some other enemy spy kidnap her?" Emma accused as she passed her baby to her husband.
"Nein, I am on your side, I zvear!" Before the blubbering German could utter another syllable, Mrs. Peel approached him.
"You enemy agents need to come up with better excuses than that," scoffed the courageous Mrs. Steed before she expertly karate chopped him in the neck. Mr. Starker slumped to the floor for the third time that day.
"I suggest we take him to H and have him interrogated," Steed said. Emma Peel readily agreed, so while Steed dragged the nemesis into his Bentley, Emma carried her daughter. Then the two secret agents drove to headquarters.
To say H was peeved at Mr. and Mrs. Steed for bringing Starker into his office would be an understatement. His face turned red with anger, as he spurted, "No, Herr Starker is on our side, trying to help us discover what Conrad Siegfried is after!"
"Who's this Siegfried fellow?" Steed asked.
"You probably know him better by his KAOS codename, Ludwig von Siegfried. He is in England, creating-"
"Chaos?" Emma supplied, cradling Katie in her arms.
"Yes, I heard about this man and his devious ways," Steed suddenly recalled. "Do you have any idea what he would want from us?"
"I think it may be the documents on the defense weapon," replied H.
"Well, no one will ever find them, you can depend on it!" Steed proclaimed proudly.
"Are you absolutely sure about that?" enquired H.
"He's telling the truth, because I don't even know where it is," Emma informed him.
It was at this moment that Starker revived-for the third time that day, it might be noted again. "Vere am I; am I dead yet?" he asked as he painstakingly got to his feet.
"I'm sorry for my abrupt behaviour at our flat, but I thought you were the enemy," Mrs. Steed earnestly apologised.
"Do you know what Siegfried wants or where Tara is?" Steed questioned.
"I used to know all ze answers, but I've been hit on ze head so many times today, everyzing is a jumbled mess in my brain." Starker rubbed his head subconsciously. "All I know is zat Siegfried vanted zome papers about veapons or somezing."
"So I was right after all!" H crowed.
"But what about Miss Tara King, what happened to her?" Steed was becoming quite desperate.
"I told you I don't remember zat far back! All I know is zat I vas hit on ze head when Tara was trying to catch Siegfried, and ven I awoke, Tara and Siegfried vere both gone!" Starker slapped his hand over his mouth in shock and delight. "I remember everyzing zat happened!"
The three English spies did not share his cheerful enthusiasm. "You mean to tell us that one of our best agents is the prisoner of the world's most demented and diabolical mastermind of all time?" screeched H.
Starker had to think a moment to determine what the man meant, but finally he answered, "Zat's exactly vat I am saying."
"Do you know where Ludwig could be?" Mrs. Peel leaned forward intently, Katie still nestled in her arms.
"I can't quite recall where our British hideout is, but if I traveled around all the dirty parts of London, I'm sure to find it." Mr. Starker didn't seem to notice that no one found his idea admirable.
"Then we'll just have to wait until we hear from her or Siegfried," Emma sighed.
"There's got to be something we can do besides pass the time," Steed murmured.
"Well, several hours ago I called Conrad Siegfried's archenemy, Mr. Maxwell Smart to inform him that Siegfried was on the loose. Smart should arrive several hours from now to help us with this case. If Agent 86 can't plan Siegfried's next move, no one can."
"We'll just return to our flat in the meantime, but make sure to call us the minute Mr. Smart gets to the ministry." Emma gently prodded the anxious Steed out of the room. She understood how protective he was of the young woman who had been like a daughter to him. Mrs. Steed hoped with all her heart that Tara King returned safely.
******************
Tara was in darkness, her mind trying desperately to hear the indistinguishable dialogue that was drumming in her brain. She couldn't tell if she was falling down a hole or sailing down a river. She was just about to give up ever gaining control when she heard a heavy boot push into her side. She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly at the bright light and blurry images.
"So you finally recovered from your blow, Fraulein King," sneered a caustic voice. The alpine figure of Conrad Siegfried loomed over Tara's crumpled body.
Miss King groggily struggled to a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a musty building as quiet as a museum on a weekday. Only several pieces of dilapidated furniture and wooden crates littered the cement floor. Tara noticed that she was bound at the wrists and the ankles but was not gagged.
"Is this the part where I thank you profusely for waiting for me to revive instead of murdering me in cold blood?" Tara enquired dryly.
"You could zank me, but it wouldn't affect your fate." Conrad started pacing back in forth in the military way. "Now Miss King, I vant you to tell me vere the dossiers on ze secret veapon are and where my idiot goon is.
"Starker was at Steed's flat when I last saw him."
"I checked zere while you vere out cold, und he vas gone. Now tell me all I vant to know, or be prepared to face ze consequences."
"I am prepared to face the consequences right now." Tara figured it would be futile to explain she didn't know the location of the file when Siegfried wasn't going to believe her no matter what she said.
Ludwig von Siegfried rummaged around in one of the crates until he found a large flashlight. He brought it over to her and shone it directly into her eyes.
Okay, so not one of his brighter moves, Tara thought. Well, it is bright in the sense of the light, but intelligence wise, it ranks as zero. All I have to do is turn my head, for after all, he didn't tie that portion of my body. Miss King turned her head to the right, avoiding the annoying torch. When Siegfried shone it in her pale eyes again, she moved her head to the left.
After several minutes of these shenanigans, Ludwig tossed the electric torch away in disgust. "Zat vas very clever, Fraulein, but now your next torture vill be even more painful."
"You saw how I endured this pain, didn't you?" quipped Tara King overconfidently.
"Have you ever heard of bamboo under the fingernails?"
"Could we return to the torch, please?"
Siegfried laughed maniacally as twisted her bound arm in an awkward position so he could he place a stick of bamboo under Tara's long, violet fingernail. "Vere are zose papers, Fraulein King, and vere is my shtupid goon, Shtarker?"
"I'm not going to tell you, you menacing criminal!"
Siegfried applied more pressure, but Tara would not relent. "VERE IS SHTARKER, AND VERE ARE ZE PAPERS HIDDEN, YOU IMPERTINENT LITTLE GIRL?"
"YOU'LL HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST, YOU INSULTING BABOON!" Miss King retorted in a bellowing voice.
"ZAT CAN EASILY BE ARRANGED, YOU FOOL!" Conrad spat out at the complacent Tara.
The pain was beginning to bother Tara, but she hid it quite effectively. In a loud and obnoxious voice, she sang, "John Jacob Jingle-Heimer Schmidt, that's my name, too! Whenever we go out, the people always shout, 'There goes John Jacob Jingle-Heimer Schmidt.' Na, na, na, Na, NA, NA, NA! John Jacob . . ."
"Vat ze heck are you doing!" bellowed the irate German.
"It's called singing, Herr Siegfried," Miss King replied through gritted teeth as he applied even more pressure to her finger. She was certain the bamboo would be permanently embedded in her skin. To keep her mind off the soreness, she began singing the same tune. Once she had finished a round, she enquired, "Why don't you like the song? It's about a German, and I must add that he is probably much more respectable and agreeable than you."
It must have been the wrong thing to say to an embittered KAOS man, for Siegfried gouged her pointer finger so incredibly hard that the blood began to flow. Then, whether it was unintentional or not, he gripped her wrist with all his might, stopping the circulation in her hand. The blood no longer came to the surface, and Tara King didn't know if this was more painful than just having the blood trickle down her hand.
Tara bit her lip to keep from spurting more insults or screaming in utter discomfort. Unfortunately, now her lips were bleeding from the weight of her teeth. Her hand was going numb, a sensation that made her feel completely out of control like when she had fainted. Her face, she was sure, was as blanche as her hand, and as she fought the urge to blurt out a lie on the location of the dossiers, she felt blood trickle down her chin unto her lace kerchief.
"I belief zat hand is too numb to feel ze full effect of ze torture, so I vill go to ze ozer arm," announced Conrad logically. Leaving the one bamboo stick in her right hand, he twisted her other am to get another bamboo piece under her fingernail. "Zis could all be avoided if you cooperated, Miss King."
"Yes, it could, but didn't you know that I don't like avoiding things?"
"Just tell me all you know, and I'll shtop zis torture."
"It's funny, but I don't trust a KAOS agent."
"That's incredible, because I don't trust people on ze right side of ze law," Siegfried muttered sarcastically. He dug the piece of bamboo as deeply as he could without breaking it.
Tara finally could not control her bravery and cried out in alarm at the throbbing and the bleeding of her hand. "Oh, that hurts so much-uh, I can't stand it!"
"You like your shtupid song about John Schmidt, but I prefer ze sweet sound of agony and terror!" Ludwig von Siegfried's face was lit up with a malevolent grin.
By this time the feeling in her right hand had returned, hurting with a vengeance. Miss King writhed in at the sting in her fingers, but no matter what she did, her hands kept throbbing. Tara gasped as a white film came across her eyes, and she felt herself succumbing to the unconsciousness. Maybe if I fainted, he would stop using this torture on me. She was about to surrender to the darkness when Siegfried yanked the bamboo out of her fingers. This was even more excruciating than pushing the sticks into her hands!
Miss King fell over on her face, not caring that the blood was running on the ground, down her arms and chin, and on her dress. Some liquid fell from her eyes, blurring her vision. It was only after she was lying still for several minutes that she realised it was tears, tears she could not remove because of the pain in her hands, not to mention that she was still tied up.
Conrad shoved her with his foot until she managed to sit upright. "Since you revealed absolutely nozing to me, I vill have to try anozer torture. I have been recording our entire conversation, Miss King. I vill now play it back, but at twice ze normal speed and at full volume." Wirth that foreboding message, he clamped heavy noise-blocking earphones over his head and wandered over to a large crate. With a crowbar, he pried it open to reveal a stereo with humongous speakers. He pressed the rewind buttons on the tape player then clicked "play."
After only four seconds of listening to her discussion with Siegfried played two times as fast as usual, Miss King surmised that she would only be able to tolerate the deafening cacophony for three minutes before totally losing her mind. As the high-pitched voices prattled on to each other, she lay perfectly still, thinking of anything but the sound that was tormenting her brain. It was nearly impossible to block the clamor, for Siegfried continued to raise the volume. But Tara was as obstinate as he and would not relent that easily.
I've got to think of anything but that noise, Tara mused hopelessly. She tried to think of the din as being just as earsplitting as a rock concert where the singers did nothing but screech and make their electric guitars wail. However, nothing could stop the infernal racket from pricking her brain.
Tara fell over, squirming on the floor as the persistent noise drone on, getting louder as Siegfried jacked up the volume. It became so loud that he had to cover his own ears, even though the headphones protected them. He grimaced as the clatter reverberated in his ears. He couldn't imagine how it must sound to Tara, who had nothing to guard her ears.
Miss King was certain her eardrums were going to burst, but she held her tongue. Feeling something oozing from her ears, she wondered if it was blood. Would Conrad make every part of her body bleed before one of them surrendered? Tara wanted desperately to cover her ears, but her hands were tied. She opened her mouth but abruptly shut it again.
What would be the point of telling him where Starker was being kept? Wouldn't Siegfried just go to the ministry, kill everyone there, and then take Starker? Tara would still be his captive, and he still wouldn't know where the papers were. And if she told a falsehood about the location of the files, he may become so enraged when he discovered the truth that he killed her. It was a losing battle no matter what she did.
It was coming to the point where thinking rationally was as unbearable as the bamboo under the nails. Miss King's head throbbed, her ears rang, and her brain felt ready to explode. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears of absolute pain to flow down her cheeks. Finally, after she was certain she had been rendered deaf, she screamed, "All right, I'll tell you where Starker is, just please stop!"
The voices ceased their clamor instantly, and the room was silent save for Siegfried's heavy footsteps approaching her, and Tara's intense breathing. Conrad's military boots stopped inches in front of Tara King's rigid body. He grabbed her arms, pulling her into sitting position. "Vere is Herr Starker my thug?" He was so close to Tara's face she could feel his breath on her neck.
Tara tried to ignore the ringing in her ears as she listened to Ludwig von Siegfried's inquisition. She gulped several times as she murmured weakly, "He was at Steed's flat-but I suspect he was taken to my ministry for protection."
"You've done good, girly." Siegfried dropped Miss King like she was a sack of potatoes. As a result, her head hit the cement floor.
"I hate you!" sobbed Tara.
"Zis may come as a shock to you, cookie, but ze feeling is mutual." Much to her relative surprise, Conrad began to untie her. "Ve'll be moving out in about zree hours time, in case you vere interested. Now get up and vash yourself off. You look like you've been under strenuous torture." He laughed in his demented way before pulling Tara to her feet. He smacked her on the back as he said in a feigned polite voice, "Now off you go, little girl!"
Tara turned on him, anger flooding her careworn eyes. "Don't touch me ever again, or-" She raised her hand as if to strike him, but he grabbed it and twisted it.
"Or you'll vhat?" Siegfried raised his blond eyebrow, evidently not at all threatened.
"If you ever lay a hand on me again I'll commit the worst deed imaginable in your eyes, something that brings such terror to your soul that you'll beg me for mercy."
"Nozing you could ever to do me vould frighten me." Ludwig let Tara's arm drop to her side limply.
"I haven't met a man yet who doesn't have a fear of some kind." Tara stared directly in his steely eyes as she added, "Unless you aren't a man but a monster."
Siegfried raised his hand in the same manner Tara had done moments before but slowly lowered it. "You don't hit me, and I von't hit you; and ve'll call it even."
Miss King turned a reproachful eye away from the atrocious beast in human form. As she heard his receding footsteps, she gingerly touched her ears. To her relief, she discovered the liquid that had dripped down her face was merely sweat, not blood. She gazed at her fingers, which were swollen. She ran a hand through her bobbed wig, noticing that it was now ruined beyond repair.
She gave an involuntary shudder before sinking to the floor, weeping silently. She was trapped with a madman, and she didn't know if she would get out alive.
******************
John Steed paced back and forth in his tidy flat, passing his wife and child every three seconds. "Why doesn't H call us?"
"Evidently Mr. Smart has not arrived in England yet," Emma replied in her soothing tone as Katie giggled in her lap.
"No one is going to be safe until these papers are out of my possession," muttered Mr. Steed.
"So, John dear, where did you put them?" Emma asked in her sweetest voice.
"Do you solemnly swear not to tell a living soul the location of the dossiers?" Steed managed to tease her.
"You have my word as a loyal citizen of Great Britain."
Once satisfied that his wife would keep her promise, Steed said, "Do you remember those two bottles of blanc de blanc that I had left in the icebox? Well, there actually was only one bottle of wine left."
Emma gave him a disbelieving gaze before venturing into the kitchen to have a look in the freezer. "There are two bottles in here, Steed!"
John Steed likewise entered the kitchen and retrieved the wine from its nest in the icebox. In his most unperturbed manner, he set one of the dark green tinted bottles on the counter while he opened the other one. To Mrs. Steed's astonishment, the opened bottle held not the wine but the secret documents! Steed smugly placed the bottles back into the refrigerator, leaving his wife to stare at him admiringly.
Just then Dr. King and Mrs. Gale arrived. "We came as soon as we got your message at the surgery," King informed him. "Cathy and I were out when you called, and that's why my receptionist took your message. We would have been here sooner if not for that setback.
"How are you handling this, Steed?" Catherine Gale enquired in the tender voice she rarely used on her associate. "You were very close friends with Tara, weren't you?"
"Don't speak in the past tense as if she were dead," snapped Steed irritably. "And yes, we are close . . . friends."
"Were you just friends, honestly John?" Mrs. Peel suddenly demanded.
"My God, Emma, is this the time to ask me that?" Steed cried in anguish.
Cathy silently took the baby from Mrs. Steed's arms and motioned with her head for King to follow her to the kitchen. Martin willingly trailed after his fiancée out of the room, not ready to endure any violence or anger that was sure to arise.
"I'm sorry," Emma and John simultaneously said.
"I'm just as worried as you, Steed; I'm just taking it out in a different way." Emma Peel rose from her seat on the sofa and wandered over to the motionless man. Draping an arm around his shoulder, she leaned her head on his back. "I know Tara will use her intellect and fighting skills to escape from that villain."
"I wish I was as confident as you, but I've seen how many times I had to come to her rescue."
"You had to do the same with me on more than one occasion," Mrs. Steed gently reminded him.
The phone began to ring incessantly, shattering the consoling moment for the couple. Steed nearly flew to the phone in agitation, but he managed to regain his composure as he said, "This is John Steed here."
"Hello, Mr. Snead," came a nasal male voice with a touch of a Bronx accent in it, "This is Maxwell Smart, agent 86 of CONTROL."
"And this is Mr. Steed, not 'Snead.'"
Max ignored the proper British voice on his end of the line as he continued, "I just arrived in London a few minutes ago and I am now at your spy headquarters. What's this I hear about Ludwig von Ziegfried wreaking havoc in your fair city?'
"It appears Herr Siegfried has kidnapped one of my closest friends, and the only leads we have is the information we pried from Starker and the automatic pistol that was discovered in our flat."
"Did you get any fingerprints from it yet?"
"No, I was waiting for you to come over, since our agency does not have any records of Siegfried's fingerprints."
"I'll be over there as soon as I find out where you live."
"Isn't H there to tell you all that information?" Steed asked patiently.
"Yes well, he is here, but he's lying unconscious on the floor."
"How on earth did he get knocked out?" Steed demanded incredulously.
"I don't know, but maybe it's because I accidentally spilled my glass of water on the floor and H happened to slip on it before crashing into his desk."
To add to all his troubles, Steed began to feel a headache throbbing in his temples. He methodically gave his address to Mr. Smart, the only way he could stay tranquil. After this procedure was done and the telephone was back in its cradle, Steed told his wife, "Mr. Smart will be arriving shortly. Whether that is a good thing or not, we will soon find out."
Emma raised a quizzical eyebrow but made no witty reply. Speaking quietly to themselves, Cathy and Martin reentered the living area with Katie. "Is there anything we can do to help the situation?" Mrs. Gale wanted to know.
"No, just stay with us until we here some news about Tara's predicament." Mrs. Steed held out her arms where Cathy lovingly placed the baby.
It was fifteen minutes later when Mr. Maxwell Smart arrived at the flat. He was attired in a pink dress shirt and a blue suit coat and pants. A white tie finished off the ghastly apparel. Steed made a mental note never to wear anything pink.
As Smart entered the living area, the Avengers perceived a young brunette woman standing behind him. "Are you the unfortunate-I mean-fortunate Mrs. Smart?" Steed questioned.
"Yes, I am," the longhaired beauty gushed as she trailed after her husband.
"Tell me, how did you come across such a . . . man?" Steed continued his bumbling dialogue.
"We worked together for several years, and finally I got him to propose." Mrs. Smart was blushing, glancing askance at her husband.
"I've always said that even though the men claim they're the ones who decide to propose, it always is the women who plant that idea in their heads in the first place," Cathy declared.
"Yes, then they just act on the plan when the right moment arises," Emma agreed.
"Women," scoffed the three men in the room.
"So, are you going to take fingerprints?" Steed demanded impatiently. After receiving an affirmative answer, Steed added, "Where is your kit?"
"99, if you would please produce the file with Ziegfried and Shtarker's fingerprints?" Max extended his hand and his wife placed several sheaves of paper in it. She opened what appeared to be a makeup case but was, in reality, a vile of powder.
Smart began dusting the gun that Emma had produced for him by holding onto it with a handkerchief. "The prints are too small to see with the naked eye." To everyone's consternation, Max undid his belt, which became a magnifying glass after several swift manoeuvres. After looking through it for several minute seconds, Max cried, "Ah ha, there are two sets of fingerprints on this weapon, both male and German."
"Max, how can you tell all that when you haven't even seen if those prints match Siegfried's and Starker's?" his wife patiently asked.
"Would you believe me if I took out the German part?" was the reply. Mr. Smart compared the fingerprints on the gun to those on the pieces of paper. "After a thorough exam, I have concluded that the fingerprints are identical to those of Starker and Siegfried."
"So Tara was kidnapped by that diabolical mastermind," Steed construed hopelessly.
"Oh, I feel so extremely sorry for that girl," sighed Mrs. Smart.
"Steed, why don't you explain everything that has occurred today to the Smarts?" Mrs. Peel suggested.
"Yes, we're not exactly familiar with the whole plot either," said Martin King.
Steed heaved a tired sigh that came from the depths of his disturbed soul before explaining everything he knew to his captivated audience.
To Be Continued! Or Not! Mwwhahaha! (That was a joke)
Emma Peel and John Steed laughed gaily as they drove down the road toward their apartment. When they reached Primrose Crescent, Steed turned instead of going straight. "I thought I'd remind Tara in person of our little fete tonight at our place. It's so much friendlier than talking to her over the phone."
Mrs. Steed shrugged her slim shoulders nonchalantly, which indicated that she was fine with either scheme. The two soon entered Miss King's flat, but obviously she was not there. Puzzled but not too concerned, the duo traveled home where interesting turns of event were about to take place.
Steed and Emma entered their cozy flat with their treasured bottles of champagne and Katie. They discussed where they thought Tara might be, not heeding Herr Starker mumbling something about finding his true love. Suddenly they spotted the bulky German.
"What are you doing in our flat?" Steed demanded as he gently set his champers aside.
"I vas vith Tara, but now she has vanished!" cried Starker.
"So you helped some other enemy spy kidnap her?" Emma accused as she passed her baby to her husband.
"Nein, I am on your side, I zvear!" Before the blubbering German could utter another syllable, Mrs. Peel approached him.
"You enemy agents need to come up with better excuses than that," scoffed the courageous Mrs. Steed before she expertly karate chopped him in the neck. Mr. Starker slumped to the floor for the third time that day.
"I suggest we take him to H and have him interrogated," Steed said. Emma Peel readily agreed, so while Steed dragged the nemesis into his Bentley, Emma carried her daughter. Then the two secret agents drove to headquarters.
To say H was peeved at Mr. and Mrs. Steed for bringing Starker into his office would be an understatement. His face turned red with anger, as he spurted, "No, Herr Starker is on our side, trying to help us discover what Conrad Siegfried is after!"
"Who's this Siegfried fellow?" Steed asked.
"You probably know him better by his KAOS codename, Ludwig von Siegfried. He is in England, creating-"
"Chaos?" Emma supplied, cradling Katie in her arms.
"Yes, I heard about this man and his devious ways," Steed suddenly recalled. "Do you have any idea what he would want from us?"
"I think it may be the documents on the defense weapon," replied H.
"Well, no one will ever find them, you can depend on it!" Steed proclaimed proudly.
"Are you absolutely sure about that?" enquired H.
"He's telling the truth, because I don't even know where it is," Emma informed him.
It was at this moment that Starker revived-for the third time that day, it might be noted again. "Vere am I; am I dead yet?" he asked as he painstakingly got to his feet.
"I'm sorry for my abrupt behaviour at our flat, but I thought you were the enemy," Mrs. Steed earnestly apologised.
"Do you know what Siegfried wants or where Tara is?" Steed questioned.
"I used to know all ze answers, but I've been hit on ze head so many times today, everyzing is a jumbled mess in my brain." Starker rubbed his head subconsciously. "All I know is zat Siegfried vanted zome papers about veapons or somezing."
"So I was right after all!" H crowed.
"But what about Miss Tara King, what happened to her?" Steed was becoming quite desperate.
"I told you I don't remember zat far back! All I know is zat I vas hit on ze head when Tara was trying to catch Siegfried, and ven I awoke, Tara and Siegfried vere both gone!" Starker slapped his hand over his mouth in shock and delight. "I remember everyzing zat happened!"
The three English spies did not share his cheerful enthusiasm. "You mean to tell us that one of our best agents is the prisoner of the world's most demented and diabolical mastermind of all time?" screeched H.
Starker had to think a moment to determine what the man meant, but finally he answered, "Zat's exactly vat I am saying."
"Do you know where Ludwig could be?" Mrs. Peel leaned forward intently, Katie still nestled in her arms.
"I can't quite recall where our British hideout is, but if I traveled around all the dirty parts of London, I'm sure to find it." Mr. Starker didn't seem to notice that no one found his idea admirable.
"Then we'll just have to wait until we hear from her or Siegfried," Emma sighed.
"There's got to be something we can do besides pass the time," Steed murmured.
"Well, several hours ago I called Conrad Siegfried's archenemy, Mr. Maxwell Smart to inform him that Siegfried was on the loose. Smart should arrive several hours from now to help us with this case. If Agent 86 can't plan Siegfried's next move, no one can."
"We'll just return to our flat in the meantime, but make sure to call us the minute Mr. Smart gets to the ministry." Emma gently prodded the anxious Steed out of the room. She understood how protective he was of the young woman who had been like a daughter to him. Mrs. Steed hoped with all her heart that Tara King returned safely.
******************
Tara was in darkness, her mind trying desperately to hear the indistinguishable dialogue that was drumming in her brain. She couldn't tell if she was falling down a hole or sailing down a river. She was just about to give up ever gaining control when she heard a heavy boot push into her side. She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly at the bright light and blurry images.
"So you finally recovered from your blow, Fraulein King," sneered a caustic voice. The alpine figure of Conrad Siegfried loomed over Tara's crumpled body.
Miss King groggily struggled to a sitting position and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a musty building as quiet as a museum on a weekday. Only several pieces of dilapidated furniture and wooden crates littered the cement floor. Tara noticed that she was bound at the wrists and the ankles but was not gagged.
"Is this the part where I thank you profusely for waiting for me to revive instead of murdering me in cold blood?" Tara enquired dryly.
"You could zank me, but it wouldn't affect your fate." Conrad started pacing back in forth in the military way. "Now Miss King, I vant you to tell me vere the dossiers on ze secret veapon are and where my idiot goon is.
"Starker was at Steed's flat when I last saw him."
"I checked zere while you vere out cold, und he vas gone. Now tell me all I vant to know, or be prepared to face ze consequences."
"I am prepared to face the consequences right now." Tara figured it would be futile to explain she didn't know the location of the file when Siegfried wasn't going to believe her no matter what she said.
Ludwig von Siegfried rummaged around in one of the crates until he found a large flashlight. He brought it over to her and shone it directly into her eyes.
Okay, so not one of his brighter moves, Tara thought. Well, it is bright in the sense of the light, but intelligence wise, it ranks as zero. All I have to do is turn my head, for after all, he didn't tie that portion of my body. Miss King turned her head to the right, avoiding the annoying torch. When Siegfried shone it in her pale eyes again, she moved her head to the left.
After several minutes of these shenanigans, Ludwig tossed the electric torch away in disgust. "Zat vas very clever, Fraulein, but now your next torture vill be even more painful."
"You saw how I endured this pain, didn't you?" quipped Tara King overconfidently.
"Have you ever heard of bamboo under the fingernails?"
"Could we return to the torch, please?"
Siegfried laughed maniacally as twisted her bound arm in an awkward position so he could he place a stick of bamboo under Tara's long, violet fingernail. "Vere are zose papers, Fraulein King, and vere is my shtupid goon, Shtarker?"
"I'm not going to tell you, you menacing criminal!"
Siegfried applied more pressure, but Tara would not relent. "VERE IS SHTARKER, AND VERE ARE ZE PAPERS HIDDEN, YOU IMPERTINENT LITTLE GIRL?"
"YOU'LL HAVE TO KILL ME FIRST, YOU INSULTING BABOON!" Miss King retorted in a bellowing voice.
"ZAT CAN EASILY BE ARRANGED, YOU FOOL!" Conrad spat out at the complacent Tara.
The pain was beginning to bother Tara, but she hid it quite effectively. In a loud and obnoxious voice, she sang, "John Jacob Jingle-Heimer Schmidt, that's my name, too! Whenever we go out, the people always shout, 'There goes John Jacob Jingle-Heimer Schmidt.' Na, na, na, Na, NA, NA, NA! John Jacob . . ."
"Vat ze heck are you doing!" bellowed the irate German.
"It's called singing, Herr Siegfried," Miss King replied through gritted teeth as he applied even more pressure to her finger. She was certain the bamboo would be permanently embedded in her skin. To keep her mind off the soreness, she began singing the same tune. Once she had finished a round, she enquired, "Why don't you like the song? It's about a German, and I must add that he is probably much more respectable and agreeable than you."
It must have been the wrong thing to say to an embittered KAOS man, for Siegfried gouged her pointer finger so incredibly hard that the blood began to flow. Then, whether it was unintentional or not, he gripped her wrist with all his might, stopping the circulation in her hand. The blood no longer came to the surface, and Tara King didn't know if this was more painful than just having the blood trickle down her hand.
Tara bit her lip to keep from spurting more insults or screaming in utter discomfort. Unfortunately, now her lips were bleeding from the weight of her teeth. Her hand was going numb, a sensation that made her feel completely out of control like when she had fainted. Her face, she was sure, was as blanche as her hand, and as she fought the urge to blurt out a lie on the location of the dossiers, she felt blood trickle down her chin unto her lace kerchief.
"I belief zat hand is too numb to feel ze full effect of ze torture, so I vill go to ze ozer arm," announced Conrad logically. Leaving the one bamboo stick in her right hand, he twisted her other am to get another bamboo piece under her fingernail. "Zis could all be avoided if you cooperated, Miss King."
"Yes, it could, but didn't you know that I don't like avoiding things?"
"Just tell me all you know, and I'll shtop zis torture."
"It's funny, but I don't trust a KAOS agent."
"That's incredible, because I don't trust people on ze right side of ze law," Siegfried muttered sarcastically. He dug the piece of bamboo as deeply as he could without breaking it.
Tara finally could not control her bravery and cried out in alarm at the throbbing and the bleeding of her hand. "Oh, that hurts so much-uh, I can't stand it!"
"You like your shtupid song about John Schmidt, but I prefer ze sweet sound of agony and terror!" Ludwig von Siegfried's face was lit up with a malevolent grin.
By this time the feeling in her right hand had returned, hurting with a vengeance. Miss King writhed in at the sting in her fingers, but no matter what she did, her hands kept throbbing. Tara gasped as a white film came across her eyes, and she felt herself succumbing to the unconsciousness. Maybe if I fainted, he would stop using this torture on me. She was about to surrender to the darkness when Siegfried yanked the bamboo out of her fingers. This was even more excruciating than pushing the sticks into her hands!
Miss King fell over on her face, not caring that the blood was running on the ground, down her arms and chin, and on her dress. Some liquid fell from her eyes, blurring her vision. It was only after she was lying still for several minutes that she realised it was tears, tears she could not remove because of the pain in her hands, not to mention that she was still tied up.
Conrad shoved her with his foot until she managed to sit upright. "Since you revealed absolutely nozing to me, I vill have to try anozer torture. I have been recording our entire conversation, Miss King. I vill now play it back, but at twice ze normal speed and at full volume." Wirth that foreboding message, he clamped heavy noise-blocking earphones over his head and wandered over to a large crate. With a crowbar, he pried it open to reveal a stereo with humongous speakers. He pressed the rewind buttons on the tape player then clicked "play."
After only four seconds of listening to her discussion with Siegfried played two times as fast as usual, Miss King surmised that she would only be able to tolerate the deafening cacophony for three minutes before totally losing her mind. As the high-pitched voices prattled on to each other, she lay perfectly still, thinking of anything but the sound that was tormenting her brain. It was nearly impossible to block the clamor, for Siegfried continued to raise the volume. But Tara was as obstinate as he and would not relent that easily.
I've got to think of anything but that noise, Tara mused hopelessly. She tried to think of the din as being just as earsplitting as a rock concert where the singers did nothing but screech and make their electric guitars wail. However, nothing could stop the infernal racket from pricking her brain.
Tara fell over, squirming on the floor as the persistent noise drone on, getting louder as Siegfried jacked up the volume. It became so loud that he had to cover his own ears, even though the headphones protected them. He grimaced as the clatter reverberated in his ears. He couldn't imagine how it must sound to Tara, who had nothing to guard her ears.
Miss King was certain her eardrums were going to burst, but she held her tongue. Feeling something oozing from her ears, she wondered if it was blood. Would Conrad make every part of her body bleed before one of them surrendered? Tara wanted desperately to cover her ears, but her hands were tied. She opened her mouth but abruptly shut it again.
What would be the point of telling him where Starker was being kept? Wouldn't Siegfried just go to the ministry, kill everyone there, and then take Starker? Tara would still be his captive, and he still wouldn't know where the papers were. And if she told a falsehood about the location of the files, he may become so enraged when he discovered the truth that he killed her. It was a losing battle no matter what she did.
It was coming to the point where thinking rationally was as unbearable as the bamboo under the nails. Miss King's head throbbed, her ears rang, and her brain felt ready to explode. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing tears of absolute pain to flow down her cheeks. Finally, after she was certain she had been rendered deaf, she screamed, "All right, I'll tell you where Starker is, just please stop!"
The voices ceased their clamor instantly, and the room was silent save for Siegfried's heavy footsteps approaching her, and Tara's intense breathing. Conrad's military boots stopped inches in front of Tara King's rigid body. He grabbed her arms, pulling her into sitting position. "Vere is Herr Starker my thug?" He was so close to Tara's face she could feel his breath on her neck.
Tara tried to ignore the ringing in her ears as she listened to Ludwig von Siegfried's inquisition. She gulped several times as she murmured weakly, "He was at Steed's flat-but I suspect he was taken to my ministry for protection."
"You've done good, girly." Siegfried dropped Miss King like she was a sack of potatoes. As a result, her head hit the cement floor.
"I hate you!" sobbed Tara.
"Zis may come as a shock to you, cookie, but ze feeling is mutual." Much to her relative surprise, Conrad began to untie her. "Ve'll be moving out in about zree hours time, in case you vere interested. Now get up and vash yourself off. You look like you've been under strenuous torture." He laughed in his demented way before pulling Tara to her feet. He smacked her on the back as he said in a feigned polite voice, "Now off you go, little girl!"
Tara turned on him, anger flooding her careworn eyes. "Don't touch me ever again, or-" She raised her hand as if to strike him, but he grabbed it and twisted it.
"Or you'll vhat?" Siegfried raised his blond eyebrow, evidently not at all threatened.
"If you ever lay a hand on me again I'll commit the worst deed imaginable in your eyes, something that brings such terror to your soul that you'll beg me for mercy."
"Nozing you could ever to do me vould frighten me." Ludwig let Tara's arm drop to her side limply.
"I haven't met a man yet who doesn't have a fear of some kind." Tara stared directly in his steely eyes as she added, "Unless you aren't a man but a monster."
Siegfried raised his hand in the same manner Tara had done moments before but slowly lowered it. "You don't hit me, and I von't hit you; and ve'll call it even."
Miss King turned a reproachful eye away from the atrocious beast in human form. As she heard his receding footsteps, she gingerly touched her ears. To her relief, she discovered the liquid that had dripped down her face was merely sweat, not blood. She gazed at her fingers, which were swollen. She ran a hand through her bobbed wig, noticing that it was now ruined beyond repair.
She gave an involuntary shudder before sinking to the floor, weeping silently. She was trapped with a madman, and she didn't know if she would get out alive.
******************
John Steed paced back and forth in his tidy flat, passing his wife and child every three seconds. "Why doesn't H call us?"
"Evidently Mr. Smart has not arrived in England yet," Emma replied in her soothing tone as Katie giggled in her lap.
"No one is going to be safe until these papers are out of my possession," muttered Mr. Steed.
"So, John dear, where did you put them?" Emma asked in her sweetest voice.
"Do you solemnly swear not to tell a living soul the location of the dossiers?" Steed managed to tease her.
"You have my word as a loyal citizen of Great Britain."
Once satisfied that his wife would keep her promise, Steed said, "Do you remember those two bottles of blanc de blanc that I had left in the icebox? Well, there actually was only one bottle of wine left."
Emma gave him a disbelieving gaze before venturing into the kitchen to have a look in the freezer. "There are two bottles in here, Steed!"
John Steed likewise entered the kitchen and retrieved the wine from its nest in the icebox. In his most unperturbed manner, he set one of the dark green tinted bottles on the counter while he opened the other one. To Mrs. Steed's astonishment, the opened bottle held not the wine but the secret documents! Steed smugly placed the bottles back into the refrigerator, leaving his wife to stare at him admiringly.
Just then Dr. King and Mrs. Gale arrived. "We came as soon as we got your message at the surgery," King informed him. "Cathy and I were out when you called, and that's why my receptionist took your message. We would have been here sooner if not for that setback.
"How are you handling this, Steed?" Catherine Gale enquired in the tender voice she rarely used on her associate. "You were very close friends with Tara, weren't you?"
"Don't speak in the past tense as if she were dead," snapped Steed irritably. "And yes, we are close . . . friends."
"Were you just friends, honestly John?" Mrs. Peel suddenly demanded.
"My God, Emma, is this the time to ask me that?" Steed cried in anguish.
Cathy silently took the baby from Mrs. Steed's arms and motioned with her head for King to follow her to the kitchen. Martin willingly trailed after his fiancée out of the room, not ready to endure any violence or anger that was sure to arise.
"I'm sorry," Emma and John simultaneously said.
"I'm just as worried as you, Steed; I'm just taking it out in a different way." Emma Peel rose from her seat on the sofa and wandered over to the motionless man. Draping an arm around his shoulder, she leaned her head on his back. "I know Tara will use her intellect and fighting skills to escape from that villain."
"I wish I was as confident as you, but I've seen how many times I had to come to her rescue."
"You had to do the same with me on more than one occasion," Mrs. Steed gently reminded him.
The phone began to ring incessantly, shattering the consoling moment for the couple. Steed nearly flew to the phone in agitation, but he managed to regain his composure as he said, "This is John Steed here."
"Hello, Mr. Snead," came a nasal male voice with a touch of a Bronx accent in it, "This is Maxwell Smart, agent 86 of CONTROL."
"And this is Mr. Steed, not 'Snead.'"
Max ignored the proper British voice on his end of the line as he continued, "I just arrived in London a few minutes ago and I am now at your spy headquarters. What's this I hear about Ludwig von Ziegfried wreaking havoc in your fair city?'
"It appears Herr Siegfried has kidnapped one of my closest friends, and the only leads we have is the information we pried from Starker and the automatic pistol that was discovered in our flat."
"Did you get any fingerprints from it yet?"
"No, I was waiting for you to come over, since our agency does not have any records of Siegfried's fingerprints."
"I'll be over there as soon as I find out where you live."
"Isn't H there to tell you all that information?" Steed asked patiently.
"Yes well, he is here, but he's lying unconscious on the floor."
"How on earth did he get knocked out?" Steed demanded incredulously.
"I don't know, but maybe it's because I accidentally spilled my glass of water on the floor and H happened to slip on it before crashing into his desk."
To add to all his troubles, Steed began to feel a headache throbbing in his temples. He methodically gave his address to Mr. Smart, the only way he could stay tranquil. After this procedure was done and the telephone was back in its cradle, Steed told his wife, "Mr. Smart will be arriving shortly. Whether that is a good thing or not, we will soon find out."
Emma raised a quizzical eyebrow but made no witty reply. Speaking quietly to themselves, Cathy and Martin reentered the living area with Katie. "Is there anything we can do to help the situation?" Mrs. Gale wanted to know.
"No, just stay with us until we here some news about Tara's predicament." Mrs. Steed held out her arms where Cathy lovingly placed the baby.
It was fifteen minutes later when Mr. Maxwell Smart arrived at the flat. He was attired in a pink dress shirt and a blue suit coat and pants. A white tie finished off the ghastly apparel. Steed made a mental note never to wear anything pink.
As Smart entered the living area, the Avengers perceived a young brunette woman standing behind him. "Are you the unfortunate-I mean-fortunate Mrs. Smart?" Steed questioned.
"Yes, I am," the longhaired beauty gushed as she trailed after her husband.
"Tell me, how did you come across such a . . . man?" Steed continued his bumbling dialogue.
"We worked together for several years, and finally I got him to propose." Mrs. Smart was blushing, glancing askance at her husband.
"I've always said that even though the men claim they're the ones who decide to propose, it always is the women who plant that idea in their heads in the first place," Cathy declared.
"Yes, then they just act on the plan when the right moment arises," Emma agreed.
"Women," scoffed the three men in the room.
"So, are you going to take fingerprints?" Steed demanded impatiently. After receiving an affirmative answer, Steed added, "Where is your kit?"
"99, if you would please produce the file with Ziegfried and Shtarker's fingerprints?" Max extended his hand and his wife placed several sheaves of paper in it. She opened what appeared to be a makeup case but was, in reality, a vile of powder.
Smart began dusting the gun that Emma had produced for him by holding onto it with a handkerchief. "The prints are too small to see with the naked eye." To everyone's consternation, Max undid his belt, which became a magnifying glass after several swift manoeuvres. After looking through it for several minute seconds, Max cried, "Ah ha, there are two sets of fingerprints on this weapon, both male and German."
"Max, how can you tell all that when you haven't even seen if those prints match Siegfried's and Starker's?" his wife patiently asked.
"Would you believe me if I took out the German part?" was the reply. Mr. Smart compared the fingerprints on the gun to those on the pieces of paper. "After a thorough exam, I have concluded that the fingerprints are identical to those of Starker and Siegfried."
"So Tara was kidnapped by that diabolical mastermind," Steed construed hopelessly.
"Oh, I feel so extremely sorry for that girl," sighed Mrs. Smart.
"Steed, why don't you explain everything that has occurred today to the Smarts?" Mrs. Peel suggested.
"Yes, we're not exactly familiar with the whole plot either," said Martin King.
Steed heaved a tired sigh that came from the depths of his disturbed soul before explaining everything he knew to his captivated audience.
To Be Continued! Or Not! Mwwhahaha! (That was a joke)