Get Smart 7 - Max Smart - The Spy Who Went Out to the Cold by William Johnston Page A

time to connect with the flight from Athens to Vladivostok.”
    “My hunch is we won’t even make it back to the airport,” von BOOM said.
    “That’s not a very nice thing for a man to say who’s just been rescued from a stampede of bulls,” Max replied peevishly.
    They returned to the street that had recently been the stomping ground for the herd of bulls, then signalled a cab and rode back to the airport.
    “Found him, I see,” the porter said, as they entered the terminal. “I didn’t think he’d get very far without a stamp on him.”
    Max did not try again to explain.
    They moved on to the ticket desk. Max got three oneway tickets to Athens, and a while later they boarded the plane.
    As the airliner took off, 99 relaxed in her seat and closed her eyes.
    “Better stay awake, 99,” Max said. “The whole plane could be infested with KAOS agents for all we know.”
    “Max . . .” she replied wearily, “. . . I’ve been awake for so many hours, I’ve stopped counting. We’ve been chasing all over Europe and half of Asia, hopping on planes, hopping off planes, running from bulls, arguing with taxi drivers . . . Max, I’m exhausted.”
    “But somebody has to keep an eye on von BOOM, 99.”
    “Can’t you do it, Max?”
    “99, I’ve been chasing all over Europe and half of Asia, hopping on planes, hopping off planes, running from bulls, arguing with taxi drivers . . . I think I deserve a little nap.”
    “Sorry, Max . . . selfish of me. Nighty-night, Max.”
    Max soon dozed off. But his nap was short-lived. He was suddenly aroused by the voice of the pilot over the loud-speaker.
    “Tenshun, yawl!” the voice said. “This hyar’s yur pilot, ol’ Migale Orteeze from the Southa Spain. Now, Ah don’ want none of yawl fine folks to panic—but we got ourselves a specka trouble.”
    “We lost a wing!” Max said, sitting up, panicking.
    “Now, don’ get nothin’ fancy in yur heads—like this ol’ flappin’ chicken lost a wing nur nothin’,” the voice continued. “ ’Cause it ain’t nothin’ like that a-tall. Why, I wouldn’ hardly bother to mention it, ’cept I get such a ding-dongy kick outa talkin’ to ya over this hyar squawky-box. What it is, ya see, they’s all fogged-in there at that Athens place. Wheweeee! They say the fog’s so thick on the ground there, you could cut it up in li’l ol’ sqars and sell it for tattletale gray ice cubes. That’s a little humor there to keep up yur spirits.”
    “I’ll bet he’s going to tell us we have to turn back,” Max said.
    “No, as a fact, I ain’t,” the voice said. “What we’re gonna do is, see, we’re gonna go to our alternate. That’s the place where ya go when you cain’t get in to the place where yur goin’. Now, our alternate, accordin’ to this slippy little piecea paper they give me, is some li’l ol’ town in Egypt. It’s called Alexandria. Anybody ever been there? Well, no bother. It’ll be a nice little surprise for all of us. So, let’s jus’ settle back, folks, an’ think about that raggety-tag ol’ rip-roarin’ time we’re gonna have when we get to Alexandria—that is, if ah can find it.”
    The loudspeaker became silent.
    “A fine can of beans,” Max grumbled. “Back to Alexandria. We just left there.”
    “Max, that was yesterday,” 99 pointed out.
    “About this same time yesterday,” von BOOM said.
    “That’s right,” Max nodded. “In fact, with any luck, we ought to be able to catch the flight to Vladivostok that we missed yesterday.”
    When the plane landed at Alexandria, Max, 99 and von BOOM rushed into the terminal and up to the ticket desk.
    “Three one-way tickets to Vladivostok!” Max said. “And snap to it!”
    “Oh . . . there you are,” the ticket clerk said. “I hope you enjoyed your stay in Alexandria. Did you see the sights?”
    “What we saw was Paris and Madrid,” Max replied.
    The clerk nodded knowingly. “Some of these guided tours do get a bit off the