CHAPTER TEN
During the next couple of days Trudy and Illya made sure they were in disguise anytime they left the wagon. Trudy could tell the rough ride in the wagon was wearing the agent down as the shadows under his eyes were darker each morning. She saw him rubbing his fingers and rotating his ankles as if to bring circulation back into them. He didn't say much; most of his time was spent studying the navigational device and transferring his knowledge to paper. Trudy spent most of her time making sure they were fed and pitching in when she could with the driving. The old man was quite cheery and taught her how to handle the team of bays.
If my husband could see me now! She thought, feeling the pull in the reins and the blisters starting on her hands. If the situation weren't so dangerous, she would have been thoroughly enjoying herself.
Long into the third day, Illya stuck his head out into the driver area. Trudy glanced at him, and knew that the face of the old woman sitting with her mirrored her concern.
"There are overhead wires up ahead." The agent noted. "Where do they run from?"
"They are telegraph lines that run alongside the tracks starting at Amursk and stopping at Sovetskaja. It's a sign that we are almost half way to the coast and that we are almost to the spot where you are to be dropped."
"Are there power lines anywhere with the telegraph lines?" Illya inquired.
The old man grinned showing stained and missing teeth. "Only along a short section between the next two towns. Shall I show you?"
Trudy was amazed to see her blond traveling companion actually smile, and was dazzled by it. He needs to do THAT more often! she thought.
The caravan message to stop was sung along the line of drivers, and Trudy thought it was a wonderful thing to hear. The way they communicated in their sing-song voices was musical to the ears, and didn't require knowledge of the language. Illya was collecting his gadget together as he told Trudy what was going on. The break from the wagon would be welcome to both of them.
The old man rolled back and forth as he walked as if he was still riding in the wagon. Illya and Trudy followed him stiffly. The stopped at Favia's wagon to tell him what was going on, and the patriarch, always careful, dispatched some young men as lookouts. Illya insisted they stay behind, and started out towards the lines with Trudy following doggedly. It was a bit of a hike up to the tracks, and when Trudy saw where the wires were, she protested loudly.
"You can't get up there!" she argued, pointing up at the wires.
Illya simply raised an eyebrow and looked inscrutable as he unrolled his pack. Wrapping a large belt around his waist and the pole and stuffing the box into his shirt, he let her rant without comment. When he was ready, he simply started working his way up the pole. The only time Trudy had ever seen this technique was in a National Geographic Magazine article on coconut trees. This was how they scaled the trees! For a moment her mouth hung open in surprise.
"Well, aren't you a man of many talents," she said in exasperation. "Remind me to make sure you're with the next time I'm on a deserted island that has only coconuts trees. And you'd better not have a bullet in you then."
"Gladly," he replied dryly as he began to hack into the lines and connect the device. He didn't stay up there long. In a matter of minutes he was back on the ground, walking a bit more stiffly than before. "We need to get moving. If we're being monitored by Asikov, this won't help Favia and his people." He stuffed everything back in his shirt and turned to go.
As Trudy fell in behind, one of Illya's knees seemed to buckle. If Trudy hadn't been so close, he would have fallen. He immediately straightened up and pulled his arm away. "I'm fine," he growled. "Let's go."
Trudy put her hands up in a surrendering motion. "What ever you say," she replied, but she knew better. Before the personal wall slammed down again, she was sure she saw a flash of surprise in his eyes. She also saw that he was dragging one foot slightly; it would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, but she knew he usually walked like a cat. She stayed close behind all the way to the wagons.
Favia was waiting for them on their return. "The place to hop the train is just ahead. We will camp over there, in the foothills, and Joseph will take you up to the site tomorrow. The next train is due mid morning."
Illya moved a bit more carefully when he entered the wagon, Trudy noticed. Again, she simply stayed close and silent.
**************
"Comrade General! You have a call on the field phone," the soldier said briskly.
Asikov nodded and jumped from the truck. At the communication post he snatched the field transmitter from the soldier. "This is General Asikov," he snapped. He listened, and the scar on his cheek crinkled when his lip curled into a smile. "Excellent. Asikov out." He tossed the phone aside and stepped up to the map pinned on the tent wall. "Send a patrol to this area here," he ordered, stabbing at the map with a gloved finger, "and another over here. Have them search east and west, respectively, along the train tracks until they meet. The suspect should be in that area. I'm on my way."
"Yes, sir!" The Communications Officer barked as he readied to transmit.
Asikov strode back to the truck. "Let's go," he ordered as he pulled out a smaller map. "Here. This is the area we are going to." The driver nodded, and they took off.
***********
Bratsk was really tired of searching trains. He was now on his third one, just finishing up the last car when a young porter slipped him a note. "This just came for you, sir," the boy said, retreating quickly. The uniformed man made the boy nervous, and he didn't wait for a response.
Reading the note quickly, Bratsk did some fast mental calculations. His contact had picked up an odd blip on his screen, and the military engineer was right in the center of the projected area of origination. It was a huge area, but the train tracks were right in the middle; Bratsk knew he was close. It had to be the next train. His smile looked somewhat wolf-like, and he worked his way back to his seat to collect his things. He had to get off at the next station and wait for the next train, which would be about 18 hours behind him. He should be boarding it by mid morning, tomorrow, and have the device before noon!
*********
When Napoleon Solo was called by the radar technician, his heart rate rocketed. Illya was still out there! He and Stevie studied the maps as the tech used his slide rule to calculate some figures. The tech's finger drew a pie wedge on the map, using Habarovsk at the base of the lines. "That's how far I can narrow down the area so far," he commented.
Stevie looked closer and frowned. "It looks like he's taking the northern track. The more southern track would be here," her delicate finger pointed to an area outside the wedge.
"We need to move further north," Solo said quietly. "This information halves the coastal area we had plotted out, but it's further north than we anticipated." He looked at the map again. "This river mouth here, between Nelma and Perefyciha. We need to be closer to that area." Trying to think like the wily Russian was risky, but Solo had a feeling and he acted on it quickly.
Stevie frowned. "It would be more advantageous for us to move north to the area of Wakkanai near the north coast of Japan. That would put us much closer to the river mouth. There is a large fishing port near there. My cousins are in that area. We can go there."
Solo smiled and put his hand on her forearm. He had grown very fond of this woman, and admired her way. His normal Lothario urges stayed easily under wraps as his respect for her grew. "Stevie, I don't want to inconvenience your family any more than we already have."
She smiled that dazzling smile of hers. "Helping save a life is not an inconvenience Solo-san. It would be a disgrace to turn you away, and honorable to help. I will make the arrangements while you load up the Empress." She gave him a dainty bow as she left.
Solo watched her move away, admiring the way she seemed to float as she walked, then sprang into action. First, he radioed Waverly of the update. The days of waiting had allowed him to store up a lot of energy, and the work of packing up was welcome. Solo sprang into the job happily.
During the next couple of days Trudy and Illya made sure they were in disguise anytime they left the wagon. Trudy could tell the rough ride in the wagon was wearing the agent down as the shadows under his eyes were darker each morning. She saw him rubbing his fingers and rotating his ankles as if to bring circulation back into them. He didn't say much; most of his time was spent studying the navigational device and transferring his knowledge to paper. Trudy spent most of her time making sure they were fed and pitching in when she could with the driving. The old man was quite cheery and taught her how to handle the team of bays.
If my husband could see me now! She thought, feeling the pull in the reins and the blisters starting on her hands. If the situation weren't so dangerous, she would have been thoroughly enjoying herself.
Long into the third day, Illya stuck his head out into the driver area. Trudy glanced at him, and knew that the face of the old woman sitting with her mirrored her concern.
"There are overhead wires up ahead." The agent noted. "Where do they run from?"
"They are telegraph lines that run alongside the tracks starting at Amursk and stopping at Sovetskaja. It's a sign that we are almost half way to the coast and that we are almost to the spot where you are to be dropped."
"Are there power lines anywhere with the telegraph lines?" Illya inquired.
The old man grinned showing stained and missing teeth. "Only along a short section between the next two towns. Shall I show you?"
Trudy was amazed to see her blond traveling companion actually smile, and was dazzled by it. He needs to do THAT more often! she thought.
The caravan message to stop was sung along the line of drivers, and Trudy thought it was a wonderful thing to hear. The way they communicated in their sing-song voices was musical to the ears, and didn't require knowledge of the language. Illya was collecting his gadget together as he told Trudy what was going on. The break from the wagon would be welcome to both of them.
The old man rolled back and forth as he walked as if he was still riding in the wagon. Illya and Trudy followed him stiffly. The stopped at Favia's wagon to tell him what was going on, and the patriarch, always careful, dispatched some young men as lookouts. Illya insisted they stay behind, and started out towards the lines with Trudy following doggedly. It was a bit of a hike up to the tracks, and when Trudy saw where the wires were, she protested loudly.
"You can't get up there!" she argued, pointing up at the wires.
Illya simply raised an eyebrow and looked inscrutable as he unrolled his pack. Wrapping a large belt around his waist and the pole and stuffing the box into his shirt, he let her rant without comment. When he was ready, he simply started working his way up the pole. The only time Trudy had ever seen this technique was in a National Geographic Magazine article on coconut trees. This was how they scaled the trees! For a moment her mouth hung open in surprise.
"Well, aren't you a man of many talents," she said in exasperation. "Remind me to make sure you're with the next time I'm on a deserted island that has only coconuts trees. And you'd better not have a bullet in you then."
"Gladly," he replied dryly as he began to hack into the lines and connect the device. He didn't stay up there long. In a matter of minutes he was back on the ground, walking a bit more stiffly than before. "We need to get moving. If we're being monitored by Asikov, this won't help Favia and his people." He stuffed everything back in his shirt and turned to go.
As Trudy fell in behind, one of Illya's knees seemed to buckle. If Trudy hadn't been so close, he would have fallen. He immediately straightened up and pulled his arm away. "I'm fine," he growled. "Let's go."
Trudy put her hands up in a surrendering motion. "What ever you say," she replied, but she knew better. Before the personal wall slammed down again, she was sure she saw a flash of surprise in his eyes. She also saw that he was dragging one foot slightly; it would have been unnoticeable to anyone else, but she knew he usually walked like a cat. She stayed close behind all the way to the wagons.
Favia was waiting for them on their return. "The place to hop the train is just ahead. We will camp over there, in the foothills, and Joseph will take you up to the site tomorrow. The next train is due mid morning."
Illya moved a bit more carefully when he entered the wagon, Trudy noticed. Again, she simply stayed close and silent.
**************
"Comrade General! You have a call on the field phone," the soldier said briskly.
Asikov nodded and jumped from the truck. At the communication post he snatched the field transmitter from the soldier. "This is General Asikov," he snapped. He listened, and the scar on his cheek crinkled when his lip curled into a smile. "Excellent. Asikov out." He tossed the phone aside and stepped up to the map pinned on the tent wall. "Send a patrol to this area here," he ordered, stabbing at the map with a gloved finger, "and another over here. Have them search east and west, respectively, along the train tracks until they meet. The suspect should be in that area. I'm on my way."
"Yes, sir!" The Communications Officer barked as he readied to transmit.
Asikov strode back to the truck. "Let's go," he ordered as he pulled out a smaller map. "Here. This is the area we are going to." The driver nodded, and they took off.
***********
Bratsk was really tired of searching trains. He was now on his third one, just finishing up the last car when a young porter slipped him a note. "This just came for you, sir," the boy said, retreating quickly. The uniformed man made the boy nervous, and he didn't wait for a response.
Reading the note quickly, Bratsk did some fast mental calculations. His contact had picked up an odd blip on his screen, and the military engineer was right in the center of the projected area of origination. It was a huge area, but the train tracks were right in the middle; Bratsk knew he was close. It had to be the next train. His smile looked somewhat wolf-like, and he worked his way back to his seat to collect his things. He had to get off at the next station and wait for the next train, which would be about 18 hours behind him. He should be boarding it by mid morning, tomorrow, and have the device before noon!
*********
When Napoleon Solo was called by the radar technician, his heart rate rocketed. Illya was still out there! He and Stevie studied the maps as the tech used his slide rule to calculate some figures. The tech's finger drew a pie wedge on the map, using Habarovsk at the base of the lines. "That's how far I can narrow down the area so far," he commented.
Stevie looked closer and frowned. "It looks like he's taking the northern track. The more southern track would be here," her delicate finger pointed to an area outside the wedge.
"We need to move further north," Solo said quietly. "This information halves the coastal area we had plotted out, but it's further north than we anticipated." He looked at the map again. "This river mouth here, between Nelma and Perefyciha. We need to be closer to that area." Trying to think like the wily Russian was risky, but Solo had a feeling and he acted on it quickly.
Stevie frowned. "It would be more advantageous for us to move north to the area of Wakkanai near the north coast of Japan. That would put us much closer to the river mouth. There is a large fishing port near there. My cousins are in that area. We can go there."
Solo smiled and put his hand on her forearm. He had grown very fond of this woman, and admired her way. His normal Lothario urges stayed easily under wraps as his respect for her grew. "Stevie, I don't want to inconvenience your family any more than we already have."
She smiled that dazzling smile of hers. "Helping save a life is not an inconvenience Solo-san. It would be a disgrace to turn you away, and honorable to help. I will make the arrangements while you load up the Empress." She gave him a dainty bow as she left.
Solo watched her move away, admiring the way she seemed to float as she walked, then sprang into action. First, he radioed Waverly of the update. The days of waiting had allowed him to store up a lot of energy, and the work of packing up was welcome. Solo sprang into the job happily.