THE WINGS AFFAIR
Act VI: "Aren't You On The Wrong Campus?"
Solo easily entered Lindt's office and went directly to the porcelain lion. This time he simply pushed it aside, the hollow eye facing the wall. The dark haired agent lifted the carpet and retrieved the files. Flipping through them, the only difference he saw was a check next to today's date. "Delivery completed, I guess," Solo mused as he put the papers back. He'd just pressed the carpet back down when he heard a noise; the shadows of two men could be seen through the frosted glass in the office door.
Immediately he stood and faced them as they pushed the door open. The lead man, a lean looking tough, froze. "What are you doing in here?" he growled, suspiciously eyeing the uniformed custodian in front of him.
"Dusting?" Solo said, trying to look surprised.
The second man looked over the lean man's shoulder, then glanced behind him. "Where's your cleaning cart?" the tough inquired, turning back to inspect Solo. "Hey." He pushed by the lead man and closed the door. "I know you."
"Perhaps from the faculty mixer?" Solo said politely, moving out from the corner.
"No! You're an U.N.C.L.E. agent!"
The first man snapped his fingers and grinned evilly. "Yeah! Napoleon Solo! That's it!" Then they both went for their guns.
"So nice to be recognized!" Solo replied quickly as he kicked the first man's hand away from his holster and jumped on the second man.
They fell in a heap as the first thug recovered his balance and managed to pull his gun just as the office door slammed open and hit him squarely in the face. He went down instantly with a breathy groan.
The second goon had managed to draw his gun, but Solo, had both hands wrapped around the barrel and was managing to keep it away from his body. He heard the door open and the thud of a body, then heard the chilling voice of his partner. "Stop or die."
The wrestling match stopped instantly as the goon felt cold metal pressed behind his ear. The voice alone was enough to stop him, and he released the gun. Napoleon, glad those icy eyes weren't fixed on him, jerked the weapon away.
"What took you so long?" The senior agent snapped as he stood and brushed off his clothes.
"You're welcome," Illya replied, pulling out his communicator. "I'll call for a pick up. And now you've made me lose my student."
"I'm sure we can find you another," Solo replied calmly.
*************
"It's Solo, all right," muttered the man at the head of the conference table as a dignified group watched the images on a screen that had dropped from the ceiling. "I wasn't expecting to see him on this coast." The image view was low as if shot from near floor level and showed a fish eyed view a neat office. The form of Napoleon Solo had just turned towards the eye of the camera and was now approaching it. His hands reached out to the sides of the lens as he moved the camera contained in the porcelain lion to the side. "And whenever he's about there's a good chance that his partner's lurking around, too. Has he been located? What brought them here?"
"We haven't found Mr. Kuryakin yet, and we don't know what information they have, sir. We only got this film moments ago."
"WHAT?" The man roared, pounding the table as he stood. "That film is supposed to be recovered every morning before Lindt arrives!"
"Uh, er, yes, sir. There was a small problem with the retrieval team this morning. The backup team had to be sent in."
"Problem? What problem? Why wasn't I informed?!"
"We were just going to report that to you, sir. It seem the original retrieval team has, uh .. disappeared."
"WHAT? How can a mere two agents be this disruptive this fast?! Have they been here, undetected, longer than we think?"
"Well, sir, they are Solo and Kuryakin, U.N.C.L.E.'s best and all, and we have kept security at a minimum to keep a low profile . . ."
"That's no excuse! I want them found and brought here immediately!"
The screen behind the man flickered through Lindt's day, then Lindt moving the lion aside, and finally showed Solo again entering the office, but this time the lion camera was turned to face the wall, revealing nothing more.
"Yes, sir! The basement, sir?"
"Well, I certainly don't want them in my OFFICE!" the man roared. The others around the table flinched and tried to make themselves smaller in their seats. "Now do it! I don't need Thrush Central to hear of this incident."
"Yes, sir," the red-faced man squeaked as he scurried out the door. By then, the film showed Solo replacing the lion and two other forms on the floor in a heap behind him.
The head man shook his head in disgust at the film, and turned slightly redder at the shadowy image of Kuryakin talking on his communicator in the background behind Solo. "Turn that off!" he barked, straightened his tie as he calmed himself. The others quietly studied the papers in front of them, glad they hadn't been Carlton Nash's target. They'd each had their turn on that spit in the past.
Only Donald Weddel was not cowed, seated at Nash's right hand with a satisfied smile unwavering on his lips during the tongue-lashing. Now, he cleared his throat. "Mr. Nash?" His strong voice sounded.
Rush, now in control, settled into his massive leather chair with a squeak. The monitor disappeared into the ceiling. "Yes?" He replied civilly.
"In the light of this discovery shall we step up Professor Lindt's recruitment? Our goal can still be achieved of we move quickly."
"Yes. Yes, you're right. I'm sure those two will be out of the way soon. I see no need to abort the plan.
"Yes, sir!" Weddel agreed with a cold smile. "In fact, I have an idea on how to corral the problem."
Now it was Nash's turn to smile. "Go on," he said, leaning back in his chair.
************
The clean up in Lindt's office was quick and efficient. Since most of the professors were in classes and it was rather early in the morning, there were no questions by the university staff. Solo headed to his apartment to catch some long overdue sleep.
Illya had returned to the frat house to shed his running clothes and return to classes with only speculation as to where Reggie had dropped that envelope after Lindt had passed it to him. He had an idea that Wings had to be involved, and knew that his next step would be to find the corporate headquarters and check it out. A feeling of relief washed over him as he realized the Rush dance would have to be put aside as the cover of darkness was the best time to infiltrate the company. But there was still that Man in the Box thing; he sighed at the inevitable. Maybe something would come up, like a shoot out or a torture session. He could only hope.
************
It was late in the morning before Solo settled down for some sleep. He dropped off quickly and was happily dreaming of the beach and bikinis when he jerked awake, instantly on alert. All he saw before dropping off again was the broken window over his head and the cloud of gas enveloping him like a shroud.
************
Alphonse Lindt wasn't at all surprised to find Mr. Weddel waiting for him in the hall outside his second class of the day. They shook hands, and stepped back into the empty classroom. Weddel shut the door.
"Professor Lindt, my colleagues at Wings would like to see you immediately regarding their offer of employment."
Lindt kept the satisfied feeling of excitement from his face. Finally, a chance to see the board face to face! He'd already been working on a plan to seize control. Wings only knew about his courier business; how he conditioned the couriers was his secret alone, and could easily be adapted to the board! It would simply be a matter of time before he, Alphonse Lindt, would be in control of Wings Corporation!
Keeping an appearance of being annoyed, he glanced at his watch. "Well, I suppose I could have my assistant take the rest of my classes for the day. Give me a minute to arrange it."
The Wings Corporation had a beautiful building in Point Loma overlooking San Diego Bay. When Lindt was ushered into the opulent conference room the sun was just visible through the tinted windows just beginning its drop to a colorful sunset.
"Professor Lindt." Carlton Nash offered his hand. "Glad to finally meet you face to face. We are very impressed with your courier service, and how you have taken the initiative to improve your financial status in a most interesting manner. Please have a seat and listen to our proposal."
The talk didn't go at all like Lindt had imagined. First, they locked the conference doors. That's when he noticed the large men standing in the back of the room, guns bulging obviously from their belts, and the expressions of fear on the rest of the board members. Only Nash and Weddel beamed with confident smiles. Lindt felt himself begin to sweat.
Before the hour was over, Lindt was dazzled. He knew real power when he saw it and recognized that Thrush was the actual power behind Wings. Mentally putting his own plans aside, he decided to bide his time and align himself with this man in front of him. Carlton Nash would be his ticket to more power than he could ever imagine!
"Now, there's something we'd like you to do for us, Professor," Nash stated, leaning back. "We have a subject for you to condition."
"Condition?" Lindt sputtered. They didn't know that his couriers were hypnotized, did they? "What do you mean?"
Nash's eyes burned brightly as he leaned towards the small man. "How stupid do you think we are? We didn't contact you because of your delivery services. We contacted you because we admire your, shall we say, 'training techniques'. We know all about you, Professor." And then he finally put his proposal on the table.
***********
When Napoleon Solo finally came around, he wasn't in his room any longer. Instead, he found himself strapped around his chest to a chair with his arms and legs immobilized to the arms and legs of the chair. It was a windowless room with the only light coming from a hooded light bulb hanging from the ceiling. It smelled musty.
"Hello?" He called. "Room service?" The only noise he heard was the gentle humming of the building's heartbeat. He looked down and saw he was still in his maintenance uniform and tried to wiggle free to check his clothing for any of his hidden devices, but was not successful. The buttons alone were ample enough to get out of the room since they were explosive, but first he had to get out of the chair. After a while, he gave up with a sigh and knew he simply had to wait and see what happened.
His hands were becoming numb when he finally heard someone rattle the lock on the door. Solo turned, surprised to see Professor Lindt enter followed by a well-dressed man and none other than Donald Weddel.
"Aren't you on the wrong campus?" Solo politely inquired of the professor. Lindt looked surprised, and glanced at Nash.
"We weren't the only ones watching you," Nash informed Lindt. "And I have no doubt that U.N.C.L.E. has been watching other things, too. We need to know what they know," Nash said with a nod towards Solo.
"And he can help us in other ways, too." Weddel smiled. "Greetings Mr. Solo. This is Carlton Nash and I'm .."
"Donald Weddel, Thrush lawyer. Can't think of any job lower on the ethics scale."
Weddel laughed. "So you do remember me! I'm flattered. I promise, though, after today you won't remember much. Too bad. You'll be a great loss to your organization, but a fine addition to ours." Weddel held his chin with his hand in mock surprise. "Oh! But you won't realize you're working for Thrush, either! What a shame. Destroying a mind is such a terrible thing."
"That's enough," Nash snapped. "Professor, all the items you asked for will be here momentarily. Meanwhile, here's the sedative you asked for." A slight, frightened looking man in an ill fitting suit handed Nash a small, black case and scurried away. Nash popped the case open and offered the filled syringe to the professor.
When Lindt lifted the syringe, Solo saw that his hand shook slightly. He tried to meet the professor's eyes, but the man kept his head bowed as he worked and the agent barely felt the needle enter his vein.