Chapter 4
The National Gymnasium was filled with cheering spectators ready to watch the foil and epee events. Steed was seated on the bench along with the rest of the men's team when he saw Emma Peel step onto the piste.
During the previous day's events, Steed had marveled at how sexy she looked; but today she looked professional and dangerous. Dressed head-to-toe in virgin white breeches, jacket, and gloves, Mrs. Peel was a deadly angel come to earth to wreak vengeance on the wicked. She give a little toss of her head to send her rich auburn locks swirling to either side as she donned her wire-mesh mask. A lightweight blade in her right hand, she stepped up to the en-garde line across from her first opponent in the women's individual foil.
It was hardly any contest at all for the first few bouts. Emma dispatched her hapless victims with speed and poise. As she progressed through the ranks, she eventually found herself facing the crème de la crème of the women's fencing world.
The heightened competition didn't seem to bother her. Even when she made a mistake, Emma continued to push forward without hesitation, unflappable. She finally met her undoing at the hands of a lightning-fast Italian named Antonella. When the dust had cleared, Emma Peel finished in a respectable sixth, with the Hungarian, German, and the Italian taking the top three spots.
Steed was called to the piste immediately afterward for men's individual foil. After quickly advancing through the first tiers of competition, he remembered the Head of Operations' warning, and held back when he reached the upper echelons. He doubted that he was good enough to medal, but there was no point in taking chances.
After the completion of the fencing events, Mrs. Peel ran over to meet him, exuberant with her performance. Steed felt a warm glow of pride at her accomplishment. Would it endanger his working relationship so very much if he slipped his arms around Mrs. Peel's waist and nibbled at her earlobes, just a little? Probably so.
"Did you see?" she said excitedly.
"You were spectacular, Mrs. Peel. I certainly wouldn't want to meet you in a dark alley some night, armed only with a sword."
"Keep it up, and you may," she countered, thinking that she detected a note of sarcasm in his voice.
"Sixth in the world is an impressive feat. Now you can stake your claim as the best swordsman in Great Britain." Steed's serious tone indicated his compliment was genuine.
"Swordswoman," Emma corrected him wryly. "Considering that you came in nineteenth, I'll take that as high praise." She didn't mean to gloat, but she had to make up for the teasing he gave her after yesterday's swim. "Aren't you going to do epee, Steed?"
"Too heavy. I don't want to wear out my arm. I might need it to lift mugs of that rice beer they serve here."
"Have you made the preparations to help Miss Irinova?"
"I have a suitable car. I was hoping you might tag along."
The surprise on Emma's face was evident. She was actually flustered as she spoke.
"Me?" she asked. "Help with a defection from an enemy government? Do you think I should?"
"You've been a great help so far. No reason to stop while you're on a roll. In for a penny, in for a pound, I always say."
Emma nodded her head politely. "In that case, I accept."
-oOo-
The car was a luxurious black 1959 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud saloon. It was certainly no rental; Steed must have borrowed it from a friend. He parked illegally next to the curb by the checkerboard plaza outside the swimming arena, then ran around to hold the door open for Emma. She stepped out somewhat unsteadily. Steed smiled.
"Nervous, Mrs. Peel?"
"I don't think I've ever done this sort of thing before. Certainly, not while sober," she joked.
"Indeed," Steed said smoothly. "I could use a good stiff drink about now, myself."
Emma smiled and reached in her hip pocket and pulled out a flask. "Liquid courage. For medicinal purposes only, Mr. Steed."
"Just Steed," he corrected. "Mrs. Peel, you're an angel."
She drank first, sipping delicately from the flask, and a rosy color tinged her checks. She shook her head as tears nearly came to her eyes.
"An angel bearing potent potables," she said haltingly, passing the flask to him. "Careful Steed; it's strong."
"Then I'll just have to be stronger." He smiled broadly as he took a generous swallow. Emma watched smugly, expecting him to choke on the fiery high-proof mixture. Instead, he thumped his chest like a Russian weightlifter.
"Ah, that reinforced the old constitution," he grinned. "Thank you, Mrs. Peel."
Emma started nosing around the outside wall of the stadium. A few seconds after vanishing around a corner, she called out to Steed. He followed the sound of her voice. She was standing next to a metal-clad door boldly emblazoned with the sign "FIRE EXIT". Just to the left, two red concrete posts guarded a large-diameter pipe with a valve emerging from underground. On the wall above, a substantial length of hose was folded accordion-style in a rack.
"It's probably locked to the outside," she observed. "We'll just have to wait."
Steed looked thoughtful. "I'd like to know what's going to emerge before it's directly upon us. We need to get that door open." He found himself instinctively looking at Mrs. Peel's hair, expecting to see a pair of cloisonné hair clips. A pang of loss briefly passed through him.
Emma arched her eyebrow. "I have an American Express card," she offered. "It's plastic." She fished around in her pocket and produced a small rectangle. Steed took it from her and carefully wedged it into the space near the handle. There was a dull click as he easily pulled the door open. Emma pressed shoulder to shoulder with him as they peered inside.
"Pipes, wiring," Steed commented. "No Marina."
Emma checked her watch. "It's just after five. Shouldn't be too much longer."
Even as she finished speaking, a scuffling noise echoed through the empty space inside the door. The sound of bare feet slapping on cement was followed by several Russian words barked urgently from farther down the corridor. If they were orders to stop, Marina was ignoring them; she came running down the hall at full tilt. She wore a sky blue racing suit so thin it looked like it was painted on.
Two black-haired men dressed in plain gray suits were only a few steps behind her. One of them was starting to reach inside his jacket.
"Trouble!" Emma warned Steed. Thinking quickly, she grabbed one end of the fire hose and dragged it to the door opening.
"Fire crews at the ready!" she sang out.
Steed immediately understood her plan and rushed over to the valve, giving the handle a quarter turn to make sure it wasn't stuck. "Say when," he said.
Emma waited until Marina reached the doorway. "When!" she called out.
Steed whirled open the valve, causing the hose to inflate from the pressure. A solid stream of water hit the two KGB men at full force. The gun that one of them had produced went flying out of his grasp and clattered against the wall. Unable to make progress against the torrent, both men started to slip backwards until they went down in a heap. Emma let the ferocious stream of water play on the two sodden figures for a moment longer, just to make sure they were thoroughly subdued.
"Switch off," she ordered. He spun the handle back.
Steed walked over to the open fire door and peeked inside to see the two spluttering guards. He turned towards Emma with a grin.
"Mrs. Peel, you're a natural. Extinguishing the flames of tyranny. Are you sure you've never done this before?"
She smiled at him, surprised at how much his praise warmed her. "Let's get Miss Irinova out of here before more baddies arrive," she said.
-oOo-
The trio had returned to Emma's room in the Olympic Village. Marina was clinging tightly to Steed, pressing her firm breasts into his chest. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. Emma couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy. Plus, the swimsuit that the Russian had chosen was positively obscene. Steed disengaged himself from Marina, gesturing for her to sit down on the bed.
"Zdravstvujte, Miss Irinova," he said suavely.
"Privet, Steed. I have heard much about you. You have helped many of my friends come to the West. I don't know how I can ever thank you."
"Bol'shoe spasibo," Steed answered with a broad smile.
Emma pressed her own body close to Steed's as she leaned over his shoulder.
"You know Russian?" she asked wryly.
Steed looked back at her and smiled. "Only the important bits, like 'Which way to the caviar?'"
He walked over to the nightstand for a glass of water and handed it to Marina. She drank it slowly, looking deep into Steed's twinkling gray eyes.
"Thank you, tovarisch." She reached forward and boldly slipped her hand between his knees, giving his inner thigh a tender squeeze.
"Affectionate, isn't she?" Emma asked cattily, still leaning in to Steed's ear.
Steed grinned. Was that jealousy he detected? He took one of Marina's hands in his.
"Now, Marina, how do you know about this plot?"
"I overheard some men talking in Moscow."
"And they let you live?"
"I managed to escape. A guard tried to stop me," she explained with a mischievous smile, "but I kicked him in his yaitsa."
"Eggs?" Steed translated, arching an eyebrow.
Emma suppressed a laugh. "I think I know what she means."
"What did you hear?" Steed continued.
"An important double agent has just arrived from England," Marina explained. "They call him The Ladja—'The Rook'. He knows much about your Ministry. He is the man who has coordinated the assassination."
"Do you know his real name?"
"No. But I can describe him. He has dark hair and ice-blue eyes."
"Hardly an unusual characteristic," Emma said disparagingly. "Even Peter had ice-blue eyes." She lapsed into melancholy for a moment.
"Did I say something wrong?" Marina asked.
"Her husband died recently," Steed explained quietly. "What about the assassination?"
"The Ladja has arranged for a killer to be in Tokyo. The assassin will shoot Emperor Hirohito at the Olympic Stadium on October 21st."
Both Steed and Emma were quiet for a moment as they considered this.
"I'm sure everyone entering the stadium will be thoroughly searched," Steed offered.
"This man won't," Marina countered.
"And why is that?"
"Because he will be entering the stadium as a marathon runner."
Steed and Emma looked at each other. Marina continued to explain.
"At the last water stop, he will be given a gun. When the athlete runs past the review stand in the stadium, he will assassinate Emperor Hirohito. With Hirohito gone, China and Russia have a plot to work together to make sure the Communist Party holds sway in Japan."
"I thought Hirohito was only going to be present for the Opening Ceremonies," Emma said. "Why will he be there watching the marathon?
"His country has great hopes for Tsuburaya Kokichi, Japan's greatest runner. He will be there to cheer on their national hero."
"And that's when The Ladja's man will strike," Steed prompted.
Marina nodded. "But I know you can stop him, Steed. You are much smarter than The Ladja. And better-looking," she added slyly.
-oOo-