The woman -- who from the standpoint of one plane of existence bore a most striking resemblance to Martine Beswick -- happily helped herself to a steamy and restorative shower. It was sad but true, she reflected, that some of the more evil men were the better lays. Currently she had left the French double agent Charcot lying sprawled out over his bed, still gasping for air.
She toweled herself and came back out to him. "You are merciless, Sonya," he moaned at her, "merciless!"
"You should have asked for mercy."
"I did."
"But I didn't believe you." She handed him his champagne glass from the night table. "Bottoms up."
Charcot shook his head as he drank. "I can still feel the earth moving ... !"
The woman played cool. It never left her mind that Charcot, in his twisted double agent love of tempting danger, had lured her up to a little place on an island dominated by a volcano -- and she had an uneasy feeling he was feeling the actual earth.
"Merciless ... !" Charcot sighed, then dropped his glass and blacked out.
Pleased with the drug, she dressed swiftly and strode back out to her Lotus sports car -- only to see three men in dark trench coats approach her.
"I am most impressed," she said, smiling bravely. "When they say KGB will go to the ends of the earth, they are not lying."
"Is true," said the evident leader, one very mean-looking fellow. "So why don't we dispense with all lying. I am Major Zverev -- and you are not KGB Agent Sonya Sverdlova, as you misrepresented yourself just now to Monsieur Charcot. You are Dancer. April Dancer. Of Her Majesty's Secret Service."
He had her there, for she was indeed April Dancer -- not at all to be confused with, say, any April Dancer once played by Stefanie Powers on a spin-off TV show called The Girl From UNCLE.
"Don't you think we should go to a safer location to conduct business?" she offered.
"First things first!" snarled Zverev.
But the volcano evidently had other plans, for at that moment it roared and erupted, sending a majestic plume of ash billowing high into the sky.
Seizing advantage of the KGB men's momentary disorientation, Dancer ran to the Lotus and zoomed off, a shield rising in back protecting her from gunfire.
The KGB got into their car and were in hot pursuit -- but it proved too hot, as a vast curtain of glowing lava eventually caught up with them and consumed them.
Dancer had a tricky time. Yes, her Lotus was fast, but the grade was dreadfully steep and if she drove too fast she could send her car tumbling over and crashing into the sea below. The lava did not have to worry about such niceties.
The lava drew ever closer, and finally, just as it was about to reach her rear ties, she put out a final bolt of speed -- and the Lotus leaped out into the air and dove straight down into the ocean far below, splashing and then vanishing as it sank.
There was an eerie moment of calm -- and then the Lotus reemerged, having transformed (thanks as ever to Q) into an airtight boat.
The car phone rang. "Hello?"
"This is M, Double Oh Thirteen. Listen, old girl, we just learned that the KGB may be onto your Sverdlova alias, so please proceed with extra caution."
"I've already dealt with the KGB, sir. And I have the microfilm."
"Excellent! And how is Charcot? We'll need to interrogate him."
Dancer looked back, noting the lethal beauty of all the bright lava pouring down into the sea.
"His spying days are over," said Dancer. ""He's just been burned." |