THE WINGS AFFAIR
ACT X: "Have We Got A Deal For You!"
Solo ran until he was sure he was safe. It was difficult to focus on the one thought placed in his mind, and that annoyed him to no end. The annoyance was short lived, however, when he thought about the alternative. If it wasn't for the U.N.C.L.E. conditioning, he wouldn't be able to focus on anything, and that gave him a chill. His partner had managed to get him back on the right track when he was on the verge of total engulfment.
Illya, he thought as he shook his head. I hope he convinced the audience he was dead, because he sure convinced me! Dragging his thoughts back to focus again on his mission, he pulled out his communicator pen and contacted the San Diego office to complete the second part of their plan.
The nagging feeling of paranoia was always there in his mind, but mostly manageable now that he was well aware of it. His first stop was to be the Medical section to clear his mind. His second stop was going to be to the hospital to spring his partner.
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When he finally roused himself, Illya discovered he was in a stretcher being loaded into an ambulance. He ached all over; the decent from the cliff had been mostly controlled, the last part had been a freefall. His head was throbbing, so he figured it probably took the brunt of the fall. He wiggled his fingers and toes, satisfied, then became aware of the stinging pains in his upper arm and side.
"You're a lucky man," a voice said. "I've taken dead bodies from the bottom of those cliffs."
The agent focused on the face speaking at him and felt a blood pressure cuff on his arm. "Lucky is a point of view," he mumbled in return.
"Well, as far as I can see, you only have scrapes and bruises. Witnesses said you were shot, but I don't see where. The police will want to talk to you at the hospital."
"I'm sure they will." He took a moment to relax. Napoleon should be arranging his removal from the hospital and a cover story about his horrible demise from the fall. He decided to take advantage of his last minutes of life and get some rest.
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When Alphonse Lindt arrived at his home that night, he was ecstatic. There was no end to where Thrush could take him! Working with Carlton Nash had been a real eye opener and he was glad he'd decided to throw in with him, at least temporarily. After he was in tight with Thrush, Nash would simply be another rung to climb over to get to the top.
Gleefully, he poured a congratulatory drink for himself and retired to the living area to admire the lights of the city below. With a satisfied chuckle, and he reached to snap on a small lamp on a chairside table.
"Don't. I like the mood."
The voice made him jump nearly out of his skin, and the crystal glass fell to the floor and bounced on the thick carpet.
"Hey!" He yelped as two figures rose from his overstuffed chairs. "But .. but.. you're not supposed to.."
"To what?" Solo inquired.
"Be alive or be sane?" Kuryakin finished.
"Uh...wha, what d-d-do you want?" Lindt stuttered, completely aghast to see the two agents in front of him. The hospital had said the blond one was dead, and the other one should be out of his mind with paranoia! He sank onto the couch, his knees unable to hold him anymore.
The dark one, Solo, smiled a disarming smile. "Have we got a deal for you!" he began, rubbing his hands together.
Lindt began to sweat.
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The two agents escorted Lindt to the Wing Corporation late the next day and walked right through the reception area without a hitch. Now that the agents were supposedly out of the way, security had been reduced to the outside perimeter, and even that was light.
Dr. Lindt was nervous but managed to get the agents to the basement without interference. Getting Nash down was more problematic, but with a little coaching from Napoleon and a chilling glare from Illya, was able to concoct a reason for the Wings President to come down, alone, after most of the staff left for the day.
He marched into the room, obviously irritated. "OK, this had better be good . . " His tirade was cut short by Solo's gun in his back and Illya's quick movements. He was gagged and restrained to the very seat that had held Solo within seconds. His eyes burned with fury.
"Now," Solo began, holstering his weapon. "We can start. Dr. Lindt here has agreed to help U.N.C.L.E. in exchange for keeping out of prison and the gas chamber, and you are going to help us bring down Wings. You won't remember any of this any way, so I guess we just may as well get started!" He withdrew a syringe from his pocket and handed it to Lindt who then began to implement his part of the bargain with shaking hands.
Meanwhile, with access to Nash's office, Illya began the process of planting incriminating evidence against Thrush, starting with Donald Weddel. With the papers the agent was stashing in Weddel's office, Thrush and Nash would want him eliminated as soon as possible. And the paranoia and drive to liquidate Wings and flee would be so strong in Nash, Thrush wouldn't know what hit them.
The only thing left to do was pick up John Lighten, the Onofre Design Team member who leaked the plans, and that was done with a phone call. Word of his arrest would only bolster the paranoia being planted in Nash's mind and Kuryakin couldn't help but smile at the simplicity of the plan. No explosions, so shootouts, no grand exit, but a satisfying end anyway. Numerous bandages covering various minor scrapes, a slight headache and a chance to make the U.N.C.L.E. softball team; there could be worse endings to a mission!
It took all night to plant the concocted evidence throughout the building and destroy the internal security surveillance tapes, which would add more paranoia fuel to the fire. When dawn was near the tired agent joined a frazzled-looking Lindt and a pleased looking partner in the basement.
Napoleon sighed a satisfied smile. "I love a happy ending," he noted. "The San Diego Office has cleared out Lindt's home and office. Nash is going to believe his own mother is out to get him!"
Illya nodded and yawned. "All I want is a good breakfast and some sleep."
"You are just too easy to please. Doctor? Are he ready?" Lindt nodded and they began to untie Nash. "He's going to find himself in his office, convinced he's stayed up all night piecing together Weddel's betrayal." Solo chuckled. "That's one lawyer I wouldn't want to be in," he consulted his watch, "two hours!"
Lindt and Solo escorted the drowsy man to his office, sat him in his chair, and signaled Lindt to wake him up.
With a few words, Nash blinked and shot to his feet. His eyes wide with surprise. "You will not regret telling me all this," he growled at the three of them, extending his hand. They each shook it solemnly in turn. "When Weddel is out of the way, I'll repay you. Good day, gentlemen." By sitting and turning to his paperwork, they were dismissed.
The three of them walked down the hall. "Now that I've showed my obvious willingness to cooperate, do you think U.N.C.L.E. may want to swing a deal?" Lindt asked hopefully.
"Maybe," replied Solo. "But until then, be happy to have a single prison cell."
"Oh, Napoleon. I think U.N.C.L.E. could be persuaded to take an interest in the Doctor's work," Illya said lightly. "All he needs are some special cookies to start with."
Lindt brightened. "Really? Perhaps you two would like to work with me . . "
They each grabbed an elbow of the Doctor and propelled him out the front doors. "Don't start," Illya said. "By the way, Nash said he was going to repay us. How?"
Napoleon smiled as the walked down the drive and met their ride from the San Diego office. "It seems that we'll know when Carlton Nash has made his dash to safety, wherever he perceives that to be, when the Delts suddenly get a very large donation from an anonymous local businessman. And with the holdings Wings has, the Delts should be in party favors for a long, long time."
"Great." Illya shoved Lindt in the waiting car loaded with agents and slammed the door. "The beer industry will be very pleased." The car sped off and another took its place and waited for them to get in. "By the way, did I ever have time to impart on you the insight I picked up from the Man in the Box, and whether I should include it in our final report?"
Solo gave his partner a perplexed look as they slid into the backseat and they headed to the airport.