"How?"

"Well—ask him, I guess."

"And hope he reveals something out of surprise?"

"It works in the detective stories—and anyway, you can threaten him."

"Look, Suzie—we are in a foreign country. If U.N.C.L.E. wasn't pretty highly regarded, I wouldn't be able to carry this gun at all. The government wouldn't like it if I started waving it around to impress people. Besides, it's bad form."

She clenched her little fists and made a face. "All right then, you wait here! I'll go up there and see what I can scare out of him!"

And she stamped to the gangplank and started up. Napoleon was right behind her—after all, he had a responsibility here too.

Suzie stepped past the railing and began fiercely without even waiting for the man to look up. He did soon enough.

"Now look here," she said. "It's very important that we find Archie Gunderson as soon as possible. I know he didn't leave this ship in the last two hours. Now where is he, and what have you done with him?"

The mate lifted his head, looked her over slowly and carefully, and said nothing. His eyes flicked briefly over her shoulder, then returned to his work, ignoring her protest.

Napoleon had caught the glance, and looked down at his wristwatch. The silver case had a large enough flat area to serve as an unobtrusive mirror, and he twisted his wrist slightly, scanning the deck behind them. There was a figure in the door to the wheelhouse. It was too dark to see clearly, but it seemed to be holding something.

The U.N.C.L.E. agent didn't lower his arm but let it slip inside his coat. While the little automatic shouldn't be waived about casually, it wasn't there just to compliment the color scheme of his ensemble.

A soft, deep voice from behind him stopped his hand just as his fingers closed around the butt.

"Don't try it mister. I ain't a very fast shot, but it'd take you a while to turn around."

Suzie whirled around at once, and Napoleon instinctively grabbed for his gun, expecting a repeat of her indecisive action in Capetown. The automatic was halfway out and he was on one knee facing the big blond-bearded man in the doorway as Suzie cried, "Archie! Don't shoot him!"

She didn't specify whom she was addressing, but both men heeded her suggestion, probably fortunately for both of them.

Archie frowned doubtfully, not lowering his .45. "Is he okay, Miss Suzie?"

"Oh yes! He's from U.N.C.L.E., and he saved my life when they killed Mac! Did you know about that? You must have."

The big man nodded, and the gun muzzle drooped slowly. "When I heard about Mac and Waleed, I t'ought somet'ing big was wrong, and I t'ought I'd be ready if it came after me. And when I see you with this man, I t'ink maybe they make you find me."

"Archie! You don't think I'd do something like that!"

He lifted his shoulders slightly. "They can get pretty bad to a girl, Miss Suzie. That's why I was ready to kill him."

Napoleon rose awkwardly to his feet, restored his U.N.C.L.E. Special to its accustomed place, and brushed at his clothes. "Well, I'm glad you didn't have to." He stuck out a hand, half expecting a bone-crushing grip. "My name is Napoleon Solo."

Gunderson shifted the automatic to his left hand and shook. The grip was firm, but not powerful. The man knew have to use his strength, which would make him doubly dangerous in a fight. He's blue eyes were cool, and alert. "U.N.C.L.E.?" he said. "I t'ink I remember Mac talking about it one time, two-three years ago. And if Suzie likes you, I'm satisfied."

He remembered the automatic in his left hand and tucked it back in the waistband of his trousers, then called across to the first mate, who had stood unmoved, even during the imminent shooting match: "Okay, Fish-eye. Signal if somebody else comes looking around the ship. We'll be in the wheelhouse for a little while."

Then they were seated around a small table. Gunderson was interested in the circumstances of Mac's death and clapped Suzie proudly on the shoulder when Napoleon told of her part in the battle. He could offer no possible explanation for the interest of Egyptian agents, unless that country had a secret missile capability. "I don't think they have," he rumbled. "But it is true that a lot of Germans went to Egypt when the War ended." Napoleon noticed his Scandinavian accent seemed to lessen as he talked with them, and made a mental note to keep an eye on this man who seemed, on examination, to be rather more than the simple sailor he appeared on the surface.

"Possibly they were hired by another country," Solo suggested. "But the question remains as to just what island you saw the missile fired from. Aerial reconnaissance of the whole area has found many tiny volcanic islands, none of which show any signs of being a missile launching site. And as I'm sure you know, it takes quite a bit of hardware on the ground to get a modern missile into space."

Archie nodded. "And this is why you have to find Kurt. Well, all I can tell you isn't very much. Kurt and Alexei and Waleed and I had a sort of celebration in Capetown the night before we were to sail—no, after you and Mac left, Miss Suzie. We were...well, we were sailors out for a last night on the town, and it wasn't the sort of thing you could have come along for. We all said where we were going from Capetown, and Kurt didn't want to say at first. But I think there might be trouble after us, so I keep after him. And finally he got a little drunk, and whispered the name of the place. Neu-Schloss, he said. And I remember it. Neu-Schloss."

Napoleon leaned back with a sigh and a smile of satisfaction. They had their goal in sight at last. He thought a minute, and frowned. "Neu-Schloss? Where's that?"

The sailor smiled a little and stood up. "I start wondering that myself when I hear about Mac being murdered." He pulled down a large book from the shelf and latched the door again. "Take a look in the gazetteer."

Napoleon accepted the book, opened to the middle and started flipping through the N's. "Neurara, Neuruppin, Neuse River," he said. "Neuss, Neustadt.... There are certainly enough Neustadts.... Neustrelitz, Neu-Ulm, Neuville, Neuwarp, Neuwied..." He stopped and ran his finger back up the column. "Hm."

"I checked the other atlases here. There is no such listing."

"Could he have been making a joke?" Suzie asked.

Gunderson shook his massive head. "I don't think so. He seem very serious about it. He tell me because he say I am smarter than the other two, and if there is trouble he trust me to know what to do. But he was pretty drunk, I guess."

Napoleon saw his trail evaporating like a mirage. He closed the book with a deep and heartfelt sigh. "This will take some thought," he said. "Some heavy thought. And possibly even some detective work." He leaned back in the chair and thought until Suzie interrupted him.

"Have you thought of anything?"

He straightened up. "As a matter of fact I have. It's getting rather late, and I don't recall having eaten for several hours."

She nodded. "That's worth thinking about."

"That's even worth doing something about. Why don't the three of us go for dinner someplace?"

"Marvelous," said Suzie, without a trace of sarcasm in her tone. "Do you know a good place?"

"I seem to remember a good restaurant at the corner of Mongkok Road and Reclamation Street."

"The Yen Chi," said Archie unexpectedly. "A good place."