"Interesting. Is there another nation striving to protect its secrets?"

"Not exactly, sir. This particular job has bird-tracks all over it." He looked down at the Schmeisser. The swaying yellow bulb overhead picked out in sharp black and white an image of a stylized bird in fighting posture blazoned on the short stock—a Thrush. "Perhaps this puts things in a new light."

There was a brief silence from New York. "Perhaps it does. Mr. Kuryakin regrets to announce contact made, but no information available. His transcript of the interrogation is under study now, and there may be some indication of direction after all. We shall discuss this later over a more secure communications channel."

"Very good, sir. I'll call you from Hong Kong. Solo out."

They remained inside the small building, keeping low, Archie and Napoleon with captured machine guns trained on the door. There was no sound from without, though, until some ten minutes later the racket of a helicopter faded softly in from the distance. Napoleon opened his transceiver again.

"Solo calling U.N.C.L.E. helicopter. There's been no activity around here. Either they're all gone, or they're hiding waiting for you. Knock before you come in—we have the door covered."

"Right-ho, Solo," said a distant voice. "We're scanning the area with the infrareds, right now. See no sign of life. They may have got the wind up and fled before us. Hope so, what?"

It appeared so. The helicopter landed without drawing a shot from cover, and the men who sprinted from it towards the small shack passed without comment. They straightened and looked around, then knocked.

"Who goes?" said Napoleon.

"Friends," said a voice, "with a machine to get the three of you back to town. You have a conversation to complete with New York."

"Come on in, then. It isn't locked."

In another minute they were all loaded into the helicopter, and the roar of the motor deepened as the blades bit into the air and lifted them away. The machine wheeled around, then leaned forward and thundered of over the night-darkened mountains, due south towards the island of Hong Kong.

Inside the cabin, Archie Gunderson was saying, "I t'ank you very much, Mr. Solo, but I t'ink I go hide by myself. After this, these people know me, and I better dig a hole someplace and pull it in after me. Don't worry. I let you know where I am. But don't worry—I been chased by experts."

"If that's the way you want it, Archie, okay. Just learn from tonight, and never take the first cab that offers itself."

"Yah, Mr. Solo—or the second."

Chapter 7: "Sing For Us, Rameses."

The U.N.C.L.E. office in Hong Kong looked like U.N.C.L.E. offices all over the world. And the communications room, where Napoleon Solo sat before a microphone, was identical. His transmission was being efficiently scrambled, as were the two voices that came through his earphones. It was three o'clock in the morning in Hong Kong, which made it the middle of the afternoon in New York and in Rio.

"Section Four bears out your initial findings, Mr. Solo—there is no city in the world named Neu-Schloss. It is possible that Schneider merely invented a name to satisfy his companions, suspecting the possible consequences of the destruction of the Paxton Merchant and wishing to cover as much of his trail as possible."

"Ah—with all due respect, sir, I don't think so. The four of them were friends, and trusted each other. Everyone seems to have a great respect for Schneider; not the sort you'd have for a man who would lie to you that casually."

Illya's voice said: "I tend to agree with Napoleon, sir. Add to this the fact that all of them had faced death together and lived in circumstances of extreme forced intimacy for some time. This sort of thing can build a tremendous mutual trust. I don't think it would be betrayed lightly."

"In that case, we can only assume he told the truth, and was in fact intending to go to...Neu-Schloss. If he did not intend to conceal his destination, he must have believed his friends would know where this was. Do they?"

Both agents were definite. Their informants sincerely believed they had imparted all the information they possessed to the U.N.C.L.E. agents.

"We have all the clues we're going to get," said Napoleon thoughtfully. "All that remains is to put them together."

"Admirable, Mr. Solo. Have you any suggestions as to how we might begin?"

"Didn't Kropotkin say that Schneider and Gunderson usually spoke German together? Neu-Schloss means New Castle in German."

"New Castle? There must be dozens of them," said Illya.

"There are a dozen or more in Europe alone," said Waverly. "In as many different languages. It would appear that when, in the middle ages, a nobleman chose to build a new castle, the nearest town would take its name from it."

"And do we have any indication as to which of all the New Castles in the world he meant?"

"Section Four has just offered a suggestion," Waverly said, "to the effect that the terms 'under' and 'down,' as used to Mr. Kropotkin, may refer to 'down under,' or Australia and New Zealand."

"There's a Newcastle in Australia, isn't there?"

"That is correct, Mr. Solo. A port city, as a matter of fact, some hundred miles north of Sidney. A reasonable choice. Stand by, please."

There was a click, and Napoleon said tentatively, "Illya? Still there?"

"Yes. While we're waiting, you may as well tell me what you did wrong this evening."

"Don't tell me you've already heard about the —"

"The kidnapping? You should know how efficient Section Five is. I imagine the whole world knows by now—it's been several hours."

"I don't suppose you made any mistakes in Rio."

"None worth mentioning. Of course, I was up against a less formidable opponent. He didn't even do the job himself—hired a couple of local long-knives to fill in for him. They weren't quite up to it."

"Proving once again the essential folly of taking the lowest competitive bid."

There was another click, and Waverly's voice returned: "Section Four, with some help from their computer, reports that the Odile sailed from Capetown for Sydney the day after the Duke of York. It will be some hours before we can check her crew list for Kurt Schneider, but this is the most likely ship to have taken him to his 'New-Schloss.' The Magdalene sailed for Melbourne six days later, and will not have arrived yet. Both of you will proceed to Newcastle via Sydney, and begin the search for Schneider. If you have found no trace of him in three days, go to Melbourne and meet the Magdalene. Report back when you have something—positive or negative—to report."

"Not both of us, sir," corrected Napoleon politely. "All three."

All three of them sat around a table at a small sidewalk cafe in Newcastle, New South Wales. The hot yellow Australian sun splashed over the street and bright shards of it glittered back from the bay where the dredgers were black shadows as they worked endlessly to keep the harbor clear.

They had found the Odile the day before, and approached her master. When shown Suzie's photographs of Kurt, he had looked doubtful, and called to his First. They held a brief animated discussion in Greek, too fast and colloquial for Napoleon to follow.

Finally the Captain turned back to them. "Tañta," he said. "Yes. Willie Muller. From Capetown. He left—went north on train."