The League Extraordinaire
Part 7
by DarkMark
Bond woke up to the sight of Fu Manchu before him.
There was slight nausea in his stomach from the gas, and he found his wrists manacled and chained to the wall behind him, like an old melodrama scene. His fellows were about him, also chained, and there were Chinese warriors on hand, all of them armed and deadly. But all of this faded into the background compared to Fu Manchu.
The man's eyes were astonishing. True, they were of the "cat-green" that Dr. Petrie had reported in his memoirs, thanks to Nayland Smith's description. But they were more than that. They seemed to encompass a more than human knowledge, with the additional attribute of contempt for the human species below its owner. Which, he guessed, was just about everyone. It was like looking into the eyes of a snake, or the Devil.
James Bond was no stranger to villainy. Goldfinger, Drax, Mr. Big, the accursed Blofeld, who had killed his wife, Scaramanga...he'd fought them all, and more besides, and beaten them. But nobody had beaten Fu Manchu. Only his plans.
That was the being who faced him now, and spoke.
"Good evening, Mr. Bond," said Fu Manchu.
Bond looked at his partners, who were either awake or in a dreaming state. "That depends on your definition of 'good,' I suppose," he said, testing his arms idly against the chains. "But thanks for your consideration."
"Politesse is a virtue. Consider yourself lucky you are a virtuous man," Fu Manchu noted. "I know of your reputation, and of these as well."
Derek Flint was awake. "He wanted to make sure you were up before he began, James. Guess that's not very flattering to the rest of us."
"Careful, Derek," said Emma, her chained hands in her lap. "Remember, we're guests."
"Most unwilling guests," said Illya, glaring at their captor. "We haven't been fed yet. I'm hungry."
Napoleon Solo, glancing at the Dacoits, said, "Easy, Illya. Our host might have you for dinner in another way than you expected."
Fu Manchu gave Solo a cold look and the UNCLE spy decided to subside.
Emma Peel spoke next. "Isn't this the place in which the villain brags of his plans to the captive heroes? What do you have in store for us, Doctor?"
With an almost courteous air, Fu Manchu turned to the woman. "Mrs. Peel, your fate and that of the world will be intertwined. As you may have guessed, the bomb which I have constructed rests in these very premises. Within hours we will leave, and it will be activated. Your deaths should be quick and relatively painless."
"Relatively," said Bond.
"Precisely, Mr. Bond," Fu Manchu stated. "Do you think that the lovers whose image was etched on a Hiroshima wall before they were vaporized suffered much? I think not. Suffering is for those too far from the bomb, not those at Ground Zero. But do not think this is a revenge for the two atomic bombings. Japan could be carpet-bombed with the devices, and I would care not at all."
Flint ventured, "Then what, sir, is the purpose of your demonstration? Simply to test the bomb's destructive power?"
The mandarin said, "Only in part, Mr. Flint. The bombings at Hiroshima and Nagasaki demonstrated one object lesson: that power must be shown, before it is believed. Two such showings, and even the hardliners in the Japanese government were overruled. The surrender of that ignoble power, the attacker of my own homeland, was accomplished in a very short time thereafter."
Illya Kuryakin huffed. "You don't care anything about the people you're going to kill in this 'demonstration'? Have you ever seen photos of the survivors of those bombings? The burn victims, the radiation-contaminated? It's hard to believe even you'd repeat that."
"No, Mr. Kuryakin, it is not hard at all," Fu Manchu said. "Every day of the atomic age, at least two superpowers have been willing to repeat it, if need be. Your own government, and that of Mr. Solo, have held the nuclear saber at each other's throats for over twenty years now. During the Cuban Crisis, those sabers very nearly slipped. With the detonation of one cobalt bomb, the saber will be removed from one hand, and the other swordsman will be left confused. Unsure of which way to turn."
"That's a damned big risk," said Bond. "There's no predicting what Russia or Britain will do, once the United States is attacked. They'll be looking for somebody to hit, and they'll hit them hard, once they make a decision."
"Do not presume me to be a fool, Mr. Bond. A message will shortly be delivered to the governments of the U.S., the Soviet Union, Great Britain, and my native China. It will precede the triggering of the cobalt bomb by only minutes. They will know who authored the action of the day."
"But will they believe it?" said Emma.
"Certainly," he said. "Despite what they acknowledge, all said governments know of the power of the Si-Fan. And of Fu Manchu. They will believe."
Flint said, "But to what purpose? I would think your grudge would be against Britain or the Chinese Communist government. I never thought you had a particular bone to pick with the United States."
Patiently, Fu Manchu explained. "The United States is merely a testing ground, Mr. Flint. The world is locked into a tripod of power. Destroy one leg of the tripod, and the entire balance shifts and collapses. Neither Russia nor China has the secret of constructing such a bomb as I have. I shall demand the surrender of Russia, and the turnover of its weapons. I shall also insist on the abdication of the Communist government of the People's Republic of China, and the turnover of such power to me. Lest they become the second target of my bomb."
Napoleon said, "So. You have a second bomb, as well as this one?"
"I have what I have, Mr. Solo. I have what is necessary. The United States would not use their power aggressively to rule the world after the Second World War. Their mistake. I shall." He looked at his reluctant guests. "Is there anything more that you would wish to ask? If so, speak. This will be the only meeting all of us shall have."
Bond said, "What about Mike Lee, and the Baldwins? Where have you got them?"
"They are being held separately," said Fu Manchu. "They are not members of your organization. True, they will die along with you, when the bomb is detonated. But for you, I reserve the honor of being the first targets of my revenge. As the inheritors of those who balked me decades ago, it is only just. I only regret that Nayland Smith is not among you. If there was ever a foe that I loved, it was he. But...one works with what one has."
"Nice to know," said Bond.
Flint said, "What about your guards? Are you going to sacrifice them, as well?"
Fu Manchu replied, "Regrettably, yes. They will give their lives for the dream. This has been explained to them. Do not bother trying to persuade them otherwise. Goodbye."
The devil doctor made his exit. The guards did not seem to move so much as an eyelid.
Bond said, "Well. Anyone for tennis?"
Napoleon Solo, looking at him, said, "I'll serve." He reached in his mouth. One of the guards saw him, said something in Chinese, and raised his gun.
Solo threw a tooth at him.
The molar exploded in mid-air and showered the guard with acid. He screamed in pain and grabbed his face. Illya Kuryakin had already reached in his own mouth, pulled out a lining molded to the top of his palate, broke open a small cylinder, and poured the contents on a link of his chain. A second later, with the metal eaten through, he yanked himself free of the wall.
Emma Peel kicked out her shoe, expertly catching a gunman in the eye with the spiked heel. Illya was swinging the chain in a deadly arc, catching two more of the guards in the face. He kicked a fallen gun to Solo with his heel while he did so.
"Duck," said Napoleon, and fired.
The other two guards who were still standing no longer stood. Flint smiled, tightly. "The men of UNCLE aren't overrated," he remarked.
"Nice of you to notice," snapped Illya, smashing the chain over the head of one guard who was trying to rise.
Bond humphed. "Thought the Chinese would have us all searched."
"Oh, he did," said Napoleon. "A lot of the stuff we carried in our clothes was taken out. But the false tooth he missed. A little trick we adapted from an old friend."
"What old friend?"
"Savage. Clark Savage, Junior. Before our time. Illya, how's about getting us loose?"
"Don't believe they're carrying any keys, Napoleon," remarked the Russian.
"Then find someone who does," suggested Mrs. Peel. "Before that chap with 'the brow of Shakespeare' comes back and finds us."
"They're already coming," opined Bond. "Bound to be. The sounds of those shots will carry."
"In that case," Napoleon Solo said, "here's what you do."
-L-
In seconds, another contingent of guards burst into the room, weapons at the ready. The sight before them put them at full alert. All those who had been in charge of the prisoners lay on the floor...some unconscious, some bleeding, a couple obviously dead.
On top of that, one of the prisoners, a black-haired male, sagged in his chains. His eyes were upturned and he was wearing a bloodstained shirt with a hole in it.
"You bastards," yelled Bond. "You bloody bastards. They shot the American."
Emma Peel chimed in, "Yes, you big, brave men. Why don't you shoot the lot of us? We're right here in front of you, in chains!"
The door swung shut behind the guards. "Not all of us," said Illya.
He didn't need more than seven shots, in all.
Following that, Illya braced the door shut with one of the bodies and rifled their pockets. "Come on, Russki, come on," urged Bond.
"James," reminded Flint. "It's not as though Fu Manchu intended to free us, you know."
Illya looked up from the last. "Nothing we can use. Sorry."
"Damn," said Emma Peel. "Give me a gun, Illya."
"What?"
"Give me a gun!"
Silently, Kuryakin handed her a weapon. She checked it and turned to Bond. "Pull away from the wall. Make those chains tight."
"As you wish," said Bond, and obeyed. The gun rang out. Bits of metal pelted Bond. She had shot through one of the links.
"Risky, but we had to try it," remarked Emma.
"At the least," quipped Solo, "you could get me out of this bloody shirt."
The risk was taken for each of the chained parties and, thankfully, played out. The lot of them took their chains and pilfered guns in hand and went into the hall beyond. No one spoke.
Bond wondered what the hell it would be like to tangle with Fu Manchu. He hadn't yet met the man who wouldn't go down before a bullet. Still...
Subdued sounds from around a corner. Shadows. Bond held up his hand, but it was unnecessary. Flint, Solo, Illya, and Emma were all frozen against the wall, waiting.
The shadows edged closer.
Then came a voice.
"Mrs. Peel? Mrs. Peel, it's me. Thank you for wearing such a distinctive perfume."
"Oh," said Bond, lowering his weapon. "Damn."
John Steed poked his smiling face around the corner, still wearing his derby.
"Glad to see the lot of you," he said. "Even you, Bond."
Mike Fat Lee and the Baldwins showed themselves. "You're free," said Ward Baldwin. "Really, I expected no less."
Emma beamed. "John, what kept you?"
"The signal in your stomach device was cut off," said Steed. "I wager Fu Manchu's radio-proofed these walls. Had to do it by deduction."
"Well, I certainly hope your deduction is still in gear, Steed," remarked Flint.
"Care to explain?"
Bond said, "We've got something to find on the premises, John. A cobalt bomb."
"Oh," said Steed. "Dear me."
To be continued...
Notes for part 7:
"True, they were of the 'cat-green' that Dr. Petrie had reported in his memoirs, thanks to Nayland Smith's description." Dr. Petrie, the friend and assistant to Sir Denis Nayland Smith, archfoe of Fu Manchu, and author of several of the earliest Fu Manchu novels, edited by Sax Rohmer. Smith's description appears in THE INSIDIOUS DR. FU MANCHU.
"Goldfinger, Drax, Mr. Big, the accursed Blofeld, who had killed his wife, Scaramanga..." In the novels GOLDFINGER, MOONRAKER, LIVE AND LET DIE, the trilogy of THUNDERBALL, ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE, and YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, and THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, respectively. Bond's wife Tracy died in OHMSS.
"Savage. Clark Savage, Junior. Before our time." Doc Savage, heroic adventurer of the 1930's and 40's, chronicled in 181 pulp novels and several new adventures since then, under the "Kenneth Robeson" imprint. One of his gimmicks was a pair of false teeth which, when extracted and joined, formed an explosive.
"Before that chap with 'the brow of Shakespeare' comes back and finds us." Another reference to Nayland Smith's description in THE INSIDIOUS DR. FU MANCHU.
Part 7
by DarkMark
Bond woke up to the sight of Fu Manchu before him.
There was slight nausea in his stomach from the gas, and he found his wrists manacled and chained to the wall behind him, like an old melodrama scene. His fellows were about him, also chained, and there were Chinese warriors on hand, all of them armed and deadly. But all of this faded into the background compared to Fu Manchu.
The man's eyes were astonishing. True, they were of the "cat-green" that Dr. Petrie had reported in his memoirs, thanks to Nayland Smith's description. But they were more than that. They seemed to encompass a more than human knowledge, with the additional attribute of contempt for the human species below its owner. Which, he guessed, was just about everyone. It was like looking into the eyes of a snake, or the Devil.
James Bond was no stranger to villainy. Goldfinger, Drax, Mr. Big, the accursed Blofeld, who had killed his wife, Scaramanga...he'd fought them all, and more besides, and beaten them. But nobody had beaten Fu Manchu. Only his plans.
That was the being who faced him now, and spoke.
"Good evening, Mr. Bond," said Fu Manchu.
Bond looked at his partners, who were either awake or in a dreaming state. "That depends on your definition of 'good,' I suppose," he said, testing his arms idly against the chains. "But thanks for your consideration."
"Politesse is a virtue. Consider yourself lucky you are a virtuous man," Fu Manchu noted. "I know of your reputation, and of these as well."
Derek Flint was awake. "He wanted to make sure you were up before he began, James. Guess that's not very flattering to the rest of us."
"Careful, Derek," said Emma, her chained hands in her lap. "Remember, we're guests."
"Most unwilling guests," said Illya, glaring at their captor. "We haven't been fed yet. I'm hungry."
Napoleon Solo, glancing at the Dacoits, said, "Easy, Illya. Our host might have you for dinner in another way than you expected."
Fu Manchu gave Solo a cold look and the UNCLE spy decided to subside.
Emma Peel spoke next. "Isn't this the place in which the villain brags of his plans to the captive heroes? What do you have in store for us, Doctor?"
With an almost courteous air, Fu Manchu turned to the woman. "Mrs. Peel, your fate and that of the world will be intertwined. As you may have guessed, the bomb which I have constructed rests in these very premises. Within hours we will leave, and it will be activated. Your deaths should be quick and relatively painless."
"Relatively," said Bond.
"Precisely, Mr. Bond," Fu Manchu stated. "Do you think that the lovers whose image was etched on a Hiroshima wall before they were vaporized suffered much? I think not. Suffering is for those too far from the bomb, not those at Ground Zero. But do not think this is a revenge for the two atomic bombings. Japan could be carpet-bombed with the devices, and I would care not at all."
Flint ventured, "Then what, sir, is the purpose of your demonstration? Simply to test the bomb's destructive power?"
The mandarin said, "Only in part, Mr. Flint. The bombings at Hiroshima and Nagasaki demonstrated one object lesson: that power must be shown, before it is believed. Two such showings, and even the hardliners in the Japanese government were overruled. The surrender of that ignoble power, the attacker of my own homeland, was accomplished in a very short time thereafter."
Illya Kuryakin huffed. "You don't care anything about the people you're going to kill in this 'demonstration'? Have you ever seen photos of the survivors of those bombings? The burn victims, the radiation-contaminated? It's hard to believe even you'd repeat that."
"No, Mr. Kuryakin, it is not hard at all," Fu Manchu said. "Every day of the atomic age, at least two superpowers have been willing to repeat it, if need be. Your own government, and that of Mr. Solo, have held the nuclear saber at each other's throats for over twenty years now. During the Cuban Crisis, those sabers very nearly slipped. With the detonation of one cobalt bomb, the saber will be removed from one hand, and the other swordsman will be left confused. Unsure of which way to turn."
"That's a damned big risk," said Bond. "There's no predicting what Russia or Britain will do, once the United States is attacked. They'll be looking for somebody to hit, and they'll hit them hard, once they make a decision."
"Do not presume me to be a fool, Mr. Bond. A message will shortly be delivered to the governments of the U.S., the Soviet Union, Great Britain, and my native China. It will precede the triggering of the cobalt bomb by only minutes. They will know who authored the action of the day."
"But will they believe it?" said Emma.
"Certainly," he said. "Despite what they acknowledge, all said governments know of the power of the Si-Fan. And of Fu Manchu. They will believe."
Flint said, "But to what purpose? I would think your grudge would be against Britain or the Chinese Communist government. I never thought you had a particular bone to pick with the United States."
Patiently, Fu Manchu explained. "The United States is merely a testing ground, Mr. Flint. The world is locked into a tripod of power. Destroy one leg of the tripod, and the entire balance shifts and collapses. Neither Russia nor China has the secret of constructing such a bomb as I have. I shall demand the surrender of Russia, and the turnover of its weapons. I shall also insist on the abdication of the Communist government of the People's Republic of China, and the turnover of such power to me. Lest they become the second target of my bomb."
Napoleon said, "So. You have a second bomb, as well as this one?"
"I have what I have, Mr. Solo. I have what is necessary. The United States would not use their power aggressively to rule the world after the Second World War. Their mistake. I shall." He looked at his reluctant guests. "Is there anything more that you would wish to ask? If so, speak. This will be the only meeting all of us shall have."
Bond said, "What about Mike Lee, and the Baldwins? Where have you got them?"
"They are being held separately," said Fu Manchu. "They are not members of your organization. True, they will die along with you, when the bomb is detonated. But for you, I reserve the honor of being the first targets of my revenge. As the inheritors of those who balked me decades ago, it is only just. I only regret that Nayland Smith is not among you. If there was ever a foe that I loved, it was he. But...one works with what one has."
"Nice to know," said Bond.
Flint said, "What about your guards? Are you going to sacrifice them, as well?"
Fu Manchu replied, "Regrettably, yes. They will give their lives for the dream. This has been explained to them. Do not bother trying to persuade them otherwise. Goodbye."
The devil doctor made his exit. The guards did not seem to move so much as an eyelid.
Bond said, "Well. Anyone for tennis?"
Napoleon Solo, looking at him, said, "I'll serve." He reached in his mouth. One of the guards saw him, said something in Chinese, and raised his gun.
Solo threw a tooth at him.
The molar exploded in mid-air and showered the guard with acid. He screamed in pain and grabbed his face. Illya Kuryakin had already reached in his own mouth, pulled out a lining molded to the top of his palate, broke open a small cylinder, and poured the contents on a link of his chain. A second later, with the metal eaten through, he yanked himself free of the wall.
Emma Peel kicked out her shoe, expertly catching a gunman in the eye with the spiked heel. Illya was swinging the chain in a deadly arc, catching two more of the guards in the face. He kicked a fallen gun to Solo with his heel while he did so.
"Duck," said Napoleon, and fired.
The other two guards who were still standing no longer stood. Flint smiled, tightly. "The men of UNCLE aren't overrated," he remarked.
"Nice of you to notice," snapped Illya, smashing the chain over the head of one guard who was trying to rise.
Bond humphed. "Thought the Chinese would have us all searched."
"Oh, he did," said Napoleon. "A lot of the stuff we carried in our clothes was taken out. But the false tooth he missed. A little trick we adapted from an old friend."
"What old friend?"
"Savage. Clark Savage, Junior. Before our time. Illya, how's about getting us loose?"
"Don't believe they're carrying any keys, Napoleon," remarked the Russian.
"Then find someone who does," suggested Mrs. Peel. "Before that chap with 'the brow of Shakespeare' comes back and finds us."
"They're already coming," opined Bond. "Bound to be. The sounds of those shots will carry."
"In that case," Napoleon Solo said, "here's what you do."
-L-
In seconds, another contingent of guards burst into the room, weapons at the ready. The sight before them put them at full alert. All those who had been in charge of the prisoners lay on the floor...some unconscious, some bleeding, a couple obviously dead.
On top of that, one of the prisoners, a black-haired male, sagged in his chains. His eyes were upturned and he was wearing a bloodstained shirt with a hole in it.
"You bastards," yelled Bond. "You bloody bastards. They shot the American."
Emma Peel chimed in, "Yes, you big, brave men. Why don't you shoot the lot of us? We're right here in front of you, in chains!"
The door swung shut behind the guards. "Not all of us," said Illya.
He didn't need more than seven shots, in all.
Following that, Illya braced the door shut with one of the bodies and rifled their pockets. "Come on, Russki, come on," urged Bond.
"James," reminded Flint. "It's not as though Fu Manchu intended to free us, you know."
Illya looked up from the last. "Nothing we can use. Sorry."
"Damn," said Emma Peel. "Give me a gun, Illya."
"What?"
"Give me a gun!"
Silently, Kuryakin handed her a weapon. She checked it and turned to Bond. "Pull away from the wall. Make those chains tight."
"As you wish," said Bond, and obeyed. The gun rang out. Bits of metal pelted Bond. She had shot through one of the links.
"Risky, but we had to try it," remarked Emma.
"At the least," quipped Solo, "you could get me out of this bloody shirt."
The risk was taken for each of the chained parties and, thankfully, played out. The lot of them took their chains and pilfered guns in hand and went into the hall beyond. No one spoke.
Bond wondered what the hell it would be like to tangle with Fu Manchu. He hadn't yet met the man who wouldn't go down before a bullet. Still...
Subdued sounds from around a corner. Shadows. Bond held up his hand, but it was unnecessary. Flint, Solo, Illya, and Emma were all frozen against the wall, waiting.
The shadows edged closer.
Then came a voice.
"Mrs. Peel? Mrs. Peel, it's me. Thank you for wearing such a distinctive perfume."
"Oh," said Bond, lowering his weapon. "Damn."
John Steed poked his smiling face around the corner, still wearing his derby.
"Glad to see the lot of you," he said. "Even you, Bond."
Mike Fat Lee and the Baldwins showed themselves. "You're free," said Ward Baldwin. "Really, I expected no less."
Emma beamed. "John, what kept you?"
"The signal in your stomach device was cut off," said Steed. "I wager Fu Manchu's radio-proofed these walls. Had to do it by deduction."
"Well, I certainly hope your deduction is still in gear, Steed," remarked Flint.
"Care to explain?"
Bond said, "We've got something to find on the premises, John. A cobalt bomb."
"Oh," said Steed. "Dear me."
To be continued...
Notes for part 7:
"True, they were of the 'cat-green' that Dr. Petrie had reported in his memoirs, thanks to Nayland Smith's description." Dr. Petrie, the friend and assistant to Sir Denis Nayland Smith, archfoe of Fu Manchu, and author of several of the earliest Fu Manchu novels, edited by Sax Rohmer. Smith's description appears in THE INSIDIOUS DR. FU MANCHU.
"Goldfinger, Drax, Mr. Big, the accursed Blofeld, who had killed his wife, Scaramanga..." In the novels GOLDFINGER, MOONRAKER, LIVE AND LET DIE, the trilogy of THUNDERBALL, ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE, and YOU ONLY LIVE TWICE, and THE MAN WITH THE GOLDEN GUN, respectively. Bond's wife Tracy died in OHMSS.
"Savage. Clark Savage, Junior. Before our time." Doc Savage, heroic adventurer of the 1930's and 40's, chronicled in 181 pulp novels and several new adventures since then, under the "Kenneth Robeson" imprint. One of his gimmicks was a pair of false teeth which, when extracted and joined, formed an explosive.
"Before that chap with 'the brow of Shakespeare' comes back and finds us." Another reference to Nayland Smith's description in THE INSIDIOUS DR. FU MANCHU.