William Johnston - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold

“You’re asking directions from the wrong person,” the proprietor said. “I didn’t even know we had an airport until you mentioned it.”

“No airport, Max!” 99 groaned.

“All right, we’ll just have to settle for a fast car,” Max said. “Is there a fast car in town?” he asked the proprietor.

“You know it, buddy!” the proprietor beamed. “We got an American car. Zoom! It’s the same kind of car all you Americans drive on your super highways. Zoom! Zoom! Zoom! It’s what you Americans call a bestseller. Everybody in the United States who is anybody has a car like this. Zoom!”

“A Ford!” Max said. “Great. Now-”

The proprietor was shaking his head.

“A Chevy?” Max said.

“You don’t know much about America,” the proprietor said. “This is the most popular car on the road. Ready? An Edsel!”

“We’ll give it a try,” Max said gloomily.

The proprietor telephoned his brother-in-law, the owner of the Edsel, and a few minutes later he drove up to the restaurant. Max and 99 got in and the car sped off, headed for the town at which the train was scheduled to stop next.

“Will we make it?” Max asked the driver.

“In a breeze,” he replied. “I wound the key as tight as it would go.”

“This is a wind-up car!” Max said, appalled.

“My own invention,” the driver replied. “It saves on gas.”

They reached the town just as the train, which had stopped, was pulling out again. Max and 99 jumped from the car, raced along the platform, and leaped aboard the train, catching it at the very moment that it started to pick up speed.

“By a whisker!” Max breathed. “Now-let’s find von BOOM!”

They ran along the aisle toward the front of the train. Other passengers dived to the left and right to avoid getting run down. A few moments later, they reached the dining car. Max spotted the waiter who had served them.

“A dumpy little man-did you see him?” he panted.

“I hope I never see him again,” the waiter replied irritably. “First, he spent about an hour in the kitchen, complaining about the food. Then he committed an unpardonable sin.”

“Von BOOM?” Max said doubtfully.

“You don’t have to shout,” the waiter said.

“What did he do?”

“Well, when he came back from the kitchen, I handed him the check, and he paid it. Then I said, ‘What about my tip?’ and he turned on his heel and walked up the aisle and then got off the train.”

“Oh, no!” 99 wept.

“Yep,” the waiter nodded. “Got off the train. At that last stop there.”

“You shouldn’t have mentioned ‘tip!’ ” Max scolded. “Come on,” he said to 99. “It’s Geronimo time again!”

Max and 99 ran toward the end of the car.

“What do you mean, shouldn’t have mentioned tip?” the waiter shouted after them. “Don’t you bums know anything about American customs!”

Max and 99 reached the platform.

“Geronimo!” Max cried.

They jumped, hit the ground, rolled, and ended up in a tangle.

“Max, we’re miles from the station,” 99 said, struggling up.

“I can’t even see the Professor,” Max said.

“Max. . didn’t we get those lines mixed up?”

“I believe so, 99. Let’s try it again. You first.”

“Max, I can’t even see the Professor.”

“We’re miles from the station, 99.”

Running as fast as they could, Max and 99 hurried back to the village they had just left. Reaching there, they asked the station master if he had seen von BOOM.

“Dumpy little fellow? Sure,” the man replied. “He asked me where he could find the nearest restaurant. I told him we don’t have a restaurant. So he decided to move on. There was some fellow here with one of those big, sleek American cars, so this other fellow hired him to take him to the next stop so he could catch the train again. They just left. Zoom! — that ol’ key unwindin’ like a madman!”

“Quick-is there another fast car in town?” Max asked.

“Fellow, this town hasn’t even got a restaurant.”

“Sunk!” Max groaned. “We’ll never catch him now.”

“If you want to catch that train, why don’t you just hike out to the airport and hire yourself a fast plane?” the station master suggested.

“You don’t have a restaurant, yet you have an airport?”

“You’re in a country where all the decisions are made in Moscow,” the man replied. “With a system like that, one town gets a restaurant and another gets an airport-but neither get both.”

Running as fast as they could, Max and 99 rushed to the airfield. After a few minutes of bargaining with a pilot who did not speak English they were finally able to make themselves understood. And seconds later they took off. It was a short flight to the next train stop. When they landed, they leaped from the plane and rushed into town to the station. They reached it just as the train was pulling out.

Max and 99 jumped aboard, then raced down the aisle toward the front of the train. The other passengers, tired of diving to the left and right, ignored them-and a number of them got run down.

Max and 99 rushed into the compartment that Max shared with von BOOM. The Professor was seated by the window, reading a newspaper.

“Safe!” 99 cried joyfully.

“Has somebody been chasing you?” von BOOM inquired.

“Not exactly,” Max replied, dropping into the seat that faced him. “We’ve been chasing you, Professor-all over Russia. We lost you, but then we found you-almost-and then we lost you, and then. . well, here we are. Saved again!”

“Again?” von BOOM asked.

“Remember that experience with those hundreds and hundreds of bulls?” Max replied. “That was the first time. So, this makes the second time.”

“That’s a lot of bulls,” von BOOM said, retreating behind the newspaper.

The following afternoon when Max, 99 and von BOOM were relaxing in the observation car, the train halted at a small town-then remained sitting. Curious, Max motioned to a conductor.

“Why aren’t we moving?” he asked.

“We’re picking up a special car,” the conductor replied. “In a few minutes, you’ll feel a bump. Then, if you look at the rear window, you’ll see another car attached to the train.”

Max’s eyes narrowed. “Russian secret police?” he asked.

The conductor shook his head. “We Russian secret police go around disguised as ordinary citizens,” he replied. “Like waiters and traveling salesmen and. . uh. .”

“Train conductors?”

“Right-train conductors. It’d be stupid for us to ride around in special cars and get attached to regular trains in the middle of the day in little out-of-the-way villages. When the special car was being hitched-on and the passengers felt the bump, they’d say, ‘There’re the secret police again.’ ”

“Then who is in the special car?” Max asked.

“Who knows? I’m like everybody else. Since I know it isn’t the secret police, I don’t pay any attention.”

The conductor moved on.

“Very strange,” Max mused.

“The conductor doesn’t think it’s strange, Max,” 99 pointed out. “So it must happen quite often.”

“99, for all I know, that conductor is not a member of the Russian secret police, but a KAOS agent, who slipped aboard, did away with the real conductor, who was not a real conductor, but a member of the Russian secret police, then took his place, so that when I asked why the train was sitting in the station, he could allay my suspicions by pretending to be the conductor who was a member of the Russian secret police and telling me that picking up a special car is an everyday occurence, when, in fact, he knows that the special car is carrying KAOS agents who are bent on kidnapping Professor von BOOM.”