Chapter 5
A beautiful face hovered over him, its usual mysterious smile replaced with a look of concern and its upturned nose flaring with excitement.
"Steed? Are you all right?"
He took the hand she offered and pulled himself to his feet. She stroked his arm gently.
"I thought you were Ambassador Brodny," she continued.
"You practice a curious form of diplomacy, Mrs. Peel." He gingerly rubbed his jaw. He had managed to react at the last second to catch only a glancing blow. That explained how he retained consciousness. Emma lightly dusted off his clothing.
"Brodny chloroformed me and tried to expose me to some experimental drug," she explained. "He said he was after information."
Steed didn't give away his knowledge of the truth. "You think you have problems?" he teased offhandedly. "All the women I meet are trying to seduce me." He brushed off his jacket and straightened his tie.
Emma arched an eyebrow. "Really, Steed."
He nodded. "It must be a singular case of runaway charm."
"More like a case of runaway ego," she chided playfully. "I care for you very much, Steed, but you must get over this idea that you are a gift to all women. Most of us actually have to exert a bit of effort to put up with you."
He gave her a wry smile. "So you're not the least bit attracted to me?"
A grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. "No more than usual."
The amnesia effects of the drug were truly amazing, Steed thought. He allowed Mrs. Peel to replace the bowler on his head with playful tap.
"Our lecture is in the main Administration Building, just after lunch," Emma reminded him. "It's half past eleven. I'm scheduled to meet Rita in the grand dining room now, to make sure all of the arrangements went as planned."
Steed offered her his arm as they walked towards the main building.
"I'll keep an eye out for Brodny," he said. "You just focus on your speech."
Emma looked puzzled. "What information could he think I would be in possession of?" she wondered aloud. "Is there some Ministry thing going on here, Steed?"
Steed thought about the school for women agents. "If there were, would you object to me keeping it a secret?"
"Under the circumstances, no," she acquiesced. "But we need to try to get that canister from Brodny."
"Canister?" Steed's eyes became alert.
"Yes," she said casually. "I think it was some type of gas."
Steed nodded. It was even more imperative that he get an air sample to Herbert.
Rita Fox was waiting for them outside the dining hall.
"Ah! Just in time," she greeted them without formality. "I was checking the dining room, and noticed something unusual about the kitchen: it's empty!"
Emma nodded. "The food is being catered in. Apparently the Provost wasn't happy with the quality of the cafeteria fare."
"Thank goodness! I thought we were going to have to put on aprons and prepare some chow ourselves."
"I'll stand guard out here," Steed offered.
Rita seemed confused at his choice of words. "Emma and I are going to check out the sound system." The two women vanished through the doors.
A few seconds later, Steed noticed Marina approaching with the young, dark-haired agent, Tara. Just in case the drug hadn't worn off yet, he ducked around a corner. The last thing he needed was to be pinned again by the exuberant Miss King.
As a result, Steed didn't see Ambassador Brodny as he sneaked past.
-oOo-
Brodny had been sent on ahead to make sure Steed wasn't lurking about before Pehlovich entered. The only remaining task in the mission was to question the lovely Mrs. Peel. The ambassador knew that if he could just get her alone and expose her to the gas, then he could be rid of his obligations—to Gogol and the KGB, and to the slippery Squadron Leader Peel. This Pehlovich character was a tricky and dangerous man, very much like John Steed, Brodny thought.
Steed was nowhere in sight when Brodny slipped quietly into the main building. As he approached the dining hall, he overheard the voice of Mrs. Peel. Now was his chance! He pulled the stainless-steel cylinder out of his jacket and rushed into the room.
He had hoped to find her alone. Instead, the room contained not only her, but three other women—a blonde, a redhead, and a brunette. Realization dawned on him—these were all the women from the Spy School! Mrs. Peel had just asked the blonde swimmer to introduce her to the dark-haired rookie agent.
All four women turned to stare at him simultaneously.
Emma folded her arms. "Ambassador Brodny!"
Tara narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Brodny..."
Rita didn't know the name. "Brodny?"
Marina firmly set her jaw. "Comrade."
Brodny looked around in a panic, then did the only thing he could think of. He twisted the valve wide open and released all of the remaining gas from his canister. It would wipe their memories of everything that had happened in the past few minutes. As he dashed out into the hallway, he came face-to-face with John Steed.
"Ambassador Brodny," Steed said jovially. "Back for another try at Mrs. Peel?" He started to push past the nervous diplomat.
"Steed!" Brodny cautioned. "Believe me when I tell you, you must not go in there!"
"If you've hurt her, I'll—" Steed's eyes were ablaze. Brodny turned and fled. As Steed entered the dining hall, he saw all four women lined up in a row, unharmed.
Emma licked her lips. "Steed," she purred sexily.
Tara's eyes lit up. "Steed!" she called out in adoration.
Rita removed her cloisonné clips and let her red locks cascade around her shoulders. "Steed...," she said dreamily.
Marina loosened her top button. "Dushenika," she crooned.
Steed grinned cockily and tipped his hat. "Ladies." He started to back slowly away.
Brodny must have drugged them all, Steed thought. And while he knew he might be able to get the better of Rita or Marina in a physical confrontation, Mrs. Peel and Miss King had training that would allow them to overpower him quickly if they acted in concert.
The women sprang into action, fanning out to surround him before he could make his exit. Tara blocked the door to the hallway while Emma blocked the entrance to the kitchen. The other two women moved into flanking positions.
"Don't let him get away, girls," Tara called out resolutely. "If what I've heard is true, there's enough of him to go around."
Steed darted to avoid their attempts to snare him. "I think you overestimate my stamina," he called out.
"Don't listen to him," Rita said smugly. "I know all about his stamina. He's got more than enough."
"Get some of his clothes off," Emma advised. "He won't dare leave the room unless he's dressed as a proper English gentleman. He'll be trapped."
"Please, Dushka," Marina pleaded. "Do not resist us."
The women tightened their circle around him, like wolves closing in on their prey, each one occupying a point of the compass.
"Make your choice, Steed," Rita ordered. "You can't escape us all."
Steed looked at Emma. As the only one who had been married, she might be less aggressive in her attentions than the single women. And in a scuffle, her physical skills would be the most likely to keep the others at bay. He moved to her side as the circle collapsed.
"I always knew it would be me," Emma said. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him tenderly. The other women crowded near, watching with interest.
Suddenly, Tara grabbed Steed's arm and pulled him away. She turned to Emma with a smirk.
"That's not how you kiss a man, if you want him to remember it," Tara advised smugly. "You do it like this." She rubbed her body against Steed's, slipped her arms under his shoulders, and pulled him into an impenetrable embrace as she locked her mouth over his. Steed reeled from the intense contact.
"But that's not how Steed likes it," Rita argued. "I'm the only one with practical experience in this area. You need to be gentle." Rita pushed Tara away and pulled Steed into a light kiss, chucking him beneath the chin with her fingertip.
Marina pulled Rita away brashly. "No, no, no!" she corrected. "You must be more passionate! In Russia, we have a saying, 'Sensual lust must stir a tempest in your blood'..."
"That's Dostoevsky," Rita tossed in. "From The Brothers Karamazov, published in 1880—"
"Shut up!" Tara and Emma chimed in unison.
Marina threw her arms around Steed and leaped onto him, locking her legs around his waist as she pressed her lips to his. He staggered under her weight.
"How was that, Comrade Steed?" she beamed.
Steed's head was spinning. How long did the drug last? He tried to calculate how many minutes passed between Mrs. Peel's exposure in the Chemistry Building and when she hit him in the jaw...
"I was the best," Tara gloated.
Emma gave a derisive snort. "You kissed him like a teenager on her first date," she said haughtily.
"I am a teenager," Tara fired back defensively.
"You're not even twenty yet?" Rita asked. "And you want me to take your advice at the Spy School?"
But Tara and Emma had already prepared for battle. Each struck a martial pose as they started circling.
Steed hoped they wouldn't hurt each other, but it was every man for himself. This distraction might be his only chance. He lurched for the kitchen. Rita and Marina were a step too slow as he pushed through the double doors, then held them shut behind him.
"He's getting away!" Tara shouted. She patted Emma on the shoulder and they both ran to join the other two women in throwing their weight against the doors. They banged their fists in frustration.
"Come back, Steed!" the four women shouted in unison. "We love you!"
Steed had wedged his feet against the bottoms of the doors, and was using his shoulder to brace his position, when he heard a nearby feminine voice call out, "Ian?"
Then he felt the surge as the four women threw their bodies against the double doors. Their strength threatened to overwhelm him. A girl appeared at his side, saw his predicament, and aided him by slipping a broomstick through the door handles. Steed loosened his grip and slumped to the floor in exhaustion.
After he had regained his breath, he looked up at the young woman who stood over him. She had the longest, most perfect legs he had ever seen. Calves, quadriceps, all exquisitely defined, leading into some pink denim hot pants. Farther on up, her tank top was punctuated by pert breasts, and from the top of her head a long blonde ponytail flowed over her right shoulder. She barely looked twenty.
"I'm looking for my cousin, Ian," she said reasonably. "He's a student here. He usually works in this kitchen."
"Don't tell me," Steed said. "You love me. You can't resist me."
The girl wrinkled her mouth. "What are you, some kind of pervert? You're old enough to be my father."
Steed grinned. "Thank heavens for that. You haven't been affected." He straightened his clothes and grabbed a glass jar from the counter. Steed knelt by the doors and felt a cool draft of air coming from the crack between them. He collected his sample and tightly screwed the lid down.
The girl was staring at him with her impudent nose and full, sensuous lips. "Are all those women after you?" she asked.
"I'm a very popular man," he smiled.
"What did you do, knock them up and leave them in a lurch?" she laughed earthily.
Steed showed the jar to her. "I need to get over to the Chemistry Building right away."
"You're in a hurry?"
"It's possible that the sample I took may break down over time."
"Would you like a lift?" she said smartly. "My bike's outside."
"Aren't you a little old to tote me on your handlebars?"
"Vroom vroom," she said.
"A motorbike," Steed beamed. "Why didn't you say so?"
She flashed the crest of her leather jacket to him, an emblem of a rearing lion. "We're the Lion Hearts."
As they walked out the door together, she sniffed at the air in the kitchen.
-oOo-
The two younger women, Marina and Tara, came to their senses first. Neither one noticed Rita or Emma as they sat with their backs to the double doors that led to the kitchen.
"What happened?" Tara asked.
"I can't remember anything," Marina said groggily. "Wait—I seem to recall seeing one of my countrymen. He must have been working with The Ladja!"
Tara nodded. "He must have drugged us to make good his escape," she reasoned. "If we can catch up to him, we can track him directly to The Ladja!"
The two women jumped up and ran out of the dining hall.
Emma shook her head to clear the cobwebs. She saw the red-auburn furl of Rita's hair next to her. She gently shook her co-author by the shoulder.
"Are you all right, Rita?"
"I seemed to have blacked out for a moment," Rita said dazedly. "I hope the caterers get here soon. I must be getting hunger pangs."
"No," Emma said resolutely. "We were drugged. By the Russian Ambassador, Brodny. He was after me. And now I'm going to be after him." She stood and made as if to head out the door.
"Our lecture!" Rita reminded her. "The audience should be arriving any minute."
Sure enough, several of the long-haired medical students were now filing into the dining room. On seeing their two idols in a state of distress, they rushed to give aid and comfort to the women, carrying them bodily to a nearby table to minister to their needs.
-oOo-
Steed was astride the back of a lightweight Honda motorcycle speeding towards the Chemistry Building. The blonde ponytail of the young girl driver was whipping in his face. He turned away to avoid the lashing.
"Don't like the hair?" she asked.
"It could stand to be a bit shorter," he shouted over the wind noise as he held his hat on with one hand.
"Then perhaps I'll cut it."
Steed's other arm was wrapped around her waist. She interlaced her fingers with his hand, moving it up across her chest towards her breasts. Steed quickly moved it away again. The engine changed pitch as the motorbike slowed.
"Why are you pulling over?" he asked. It was vital that he get to Herbert's lab. "The Chemistry Building's just over there."
The girl dismounted the bike and looked directly into his eyes with a wicked grin.
"Oh no," Steed said. "Not you, too."
She licked her lips. "You're starting to grow on me, Mr. Steed."
"Just Steed. How did you know my name?"
"That's what all those women were calling you back there. Do you want to know my name?"
"When we get to the Chemistry Building, you can tell me your whole life story."
"Purdey," she smiled. "Just Purdey."
He needed to distract her, to get free. Perhaps he could start an argument. "You can't spend all your time on a motorbike, Purdey. You need to think about the future."
"I'm going to be a professional ballet dancer at night," she announced, "and make love to you all day."
"You don't know anything about me." Steed started to back away, but a brick wall barred his path.
"All those women, you must be a rock star," she said wryly. "Though why you're dressed like a bureaucrat, I can't fathom."
"Would it help if I mentioned that this sample is a matter of National Security?"
"Don't tell me," she said with a mischievous grin. "You're some sort of secret agent, aren't you?"
"Not exactly," Steed said. He lurched along the wall as if to make his escape, but Purdey trapped him, forcing him to straddle her knee as she pinned him into immobility.
"It doesn't matter." She ran her hands over his chest and pressed her mouth to his. "I'll still love you anyway." She kissed him deeply.
"Look, Purdey, you're under the influence of some type of drug," Steed said reasonably.
She snickered, "It wouldn't be the first time." Purdey kissed him again.
Steed saw another young girl walk past—a student, in a pink sweater. He briefly considered calling for help, but then a more effective plan came to mind—if he read this Purdey right. The bike tough was busy unbuckling his belt when Steed glanced over her left shoulder.
"You don't happen to know any rival bike gangs, do you?"
Purdey stopped working on his belt to stare at him. "What do you mean?"
"Well, there's a girl over there in pink, with an embroidered tiger. Couldn't be a gang called the Pink Tigers? Enemies of the Lion Hearts?" Steed offered glibly.
Purdey continued her efforts to remove his trousers, though a look of combativeness crossed her face.
"I only ask, because she showed an extraordinary interest in your bike," Steed continued casually. "And she was certainly sizing me up like a piece of London broil..."
Purdey's territorial instincts finally took over. She whirled on the passing girl and accosted her. "You stay away!" she shouted. "He's mine!"
The frightened passerby took a few steps back. Steed watched Purdey's boots. Just one more step...
She took it. Steed darted into action, heading directly for the motorcycle. He kicked the starter and pulled away, just inches from Purdey's grasp. Perhaps if she had lunged, she could have caught him; but something in the drug may have held her back for fear of hurting him.
-oOo-
Steed rushed up the stairs to the third floor of the Chemistry Building. He displayed the jar to Dr. Fredrickson as he strolled into the lab.
"I have something for you to analyze, Herbert. A love potion."
The chemical engineer held the jar up to the light. "You think the gas is in here?"
Steed nodded. "Be careful when you open that. Make sure there are no women near."
"Not even Rita?"
"Especially Rita, if you want to get any work done."
"I don't need to open the jar. I can do a spectrographic analysis by applying a vacuum and pulling a trace amount out through the threads."
Steed took up a position near the door. "I'll loiter about in the hall until you're finished, just to be safe. If there's nothing in that jar, I'll have to resign myself to a monastery."
-oOo-
Steed was speeding back across campus on the motorbike with Herbert's analysis safely tucked away in his pocket. He drove back to the wall where he had abandoned Purdey. She was sitting in the ground, looking dazed. Steed grinned. She certainly had a fire about her. Maybe she would be interested in the Spy School one day.
Purdey's eyes flashed at him. "What are you doing with my bike?"
Steed smiled broadly. "You were giving me a lift, don't you remember?"
Purdey looked puzzled. "I was? Where to?"
"The main Administration Building. I'm attending a lecture there at noon." He checked his watch. "Heavens, I'm an hour late."
"I need to get over there as well," she declared. "My cousin, Ian, works in the cafeteria kitchen." Her expression was still confused. "How did I wind up on the ground?"
"You got dizzy and said you wanted to sit down for a moment. Are you feeling better?"
She smiled effusively. "Yes, much."
"Well then, hop on. I'm afraid I don't know the first thing about driving a motorbike," Steed said glibly. "I thought about going to fetch help for you, but I don't understand the controls."
"That's all right. I'm fine now." She mounted the seat in front of him as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
-oOo-
Emma and Rita were once again the center of attention after the conclusion of their speeches. Emma scanned the crowd looking for any sign of Steed. Suddenly, she saw a familiar balding head.
She worked her way through the mass of students and professors. The ambassador caught sight of her and turned to run, but it was too late. Emma chased him down into the corridor and trapped him against the wall, pinning him with her forearm across his throat.
"Now it's time for you to answer some questions, Ambassador," she ordered.
"I am sorry, Mrs. Peel," Brodny whined. "But they made me do it! Siberia is very cold."
"So you admit to having gassed me twice today, and once yesterday."
"Well, yes, but—"
"Did you get the answers to the questions you wanted to ask me?" Emma continued harshly.
"Well, no—," he began.
"That's because I didn't know anything," she finished for him. "Just because I hang around with Steed doesn't mean I know all of his Ministry secrets. In fact, I usually prefer that he keeps them to himself."
"Of course, Mrs. Peel. Believe me, I would have never have exposed you to anything harmful—"
"You will never expose me to anything, ever again," she said fiercely, grasping his throat with her hands. "Do you understand?"
Brodny shut his eyes tight, expecting an ignominious death. Instead, Mrs. Peel let go of his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief. She looked straight into his eyes.
"Because if there ever is a next time," Emma said sternly, "You won't enjoy diplomatic immunity."
-oOo-