Free 15 - The Utopia Affair by David McDaniel Page A

have shattered stones with your bare hand and scaled walls a fly could not climb."
    "Children's tricks," said Matsujiro flatly. "Truly I can accomplish things few men are capable of, but I have seen the true masters of my art and I know that I am indeed less than they."
    "Very well, very well," said Silverthorne. "If you will not tell me what I wish to know, you need not attempt to impress me with either your skill or your modesty. I am quite aware of both. If I have any use for you, I shall contact you." He rose, and they followed.
    Matsujiro bowed. "And if we are able to help you without lessening our chances of success in our assignment," he said, "we shall be only too happy. Good night, sir.
     
    It was four days before Silverthorne had a reservation for the outside telephone line, and when his call was placed his first question concerned the two assassins.
    "They're absolutely right, sir," said the Sydney satrap. "All we've seen here was the part of their orders saying Total Security and the UCR heading on the message. But we have Central's word that you are not their target.
    "Thank you for your concern," he said with a trace of sarcasm. "Now what have you done about the business in Port Moresby?"
    He was willing to accept the situation as it stood—he had no choice. But he would sleep easier with his windows wired and a chair propped under the doorknob, though he didn't mention that to Sydney.
     
     
    Chapter 7
    "Always The Easiest."
     
     
    ILLYA LEANED BACK from his little playback unit and allowed himself the luxury of a deeply regretful sigh. His six-week vacation was scarcely half over, and it looked as if he would have to get back to work already. His almost instinctively planted bug in Silverthorne's cottage had caught a bigger fish than he'd had any reason to suspect, and his job was cut out for him until Waverly was safely away from Utopia.
    So Silverthorne was a top executive for Thrush. Obviously, someone somewhere had recognized his description of the putative Mr. Dodgson, and a team of assassins had been neatly delivered accordingly. He remembered scanning Refet's file a couple of years before; though the face eluded his memory, the reputation had stayed with him. Matsujiro was a stranger, but his reputation was guaranteed by the company he kept.
    He would save this tape cartridge for U.N.C.L.E.'s files; voice prints on all three men could prove valuable. Tomorrow he would find a way of picking up and replanting one of his bugs—probably the one from the table in the main dining room; Waverly used it only irregularly, usually being invited to join other groups at meals. The bug in the Security Office brought him nothing but two hours a night of worthless trivia played at double speed, but he'd put a lot of effort into planting it and hated to undo it all. Besides, it still might prove useful.
    Now another of his carefully forged keys would be needed. The room the two men shared would probably work from the same master that would open his own—were it not for a slight individual change he had made in the lock the night he moved in.
    He definitely did not look forward to meeting either of the gentlemen in person. Illya was well aware of his considerable abilities in the arts of self-defense, but he was equally aware of his limitations. He could break a pine board, but not a brick; his hands were too valuable for other purposes. Taking on either the Turk or the Japanese alone would have been a very chancy business—attempting to confront both simultaneously would only end in a badly shattered Russian and an unprotected Waverly.
    He knew he'd have to find them. But this meant they might find him first. And if Waverly were left unprotected the entire assignment would have failed. In his small neat handwriting, he penned a brief memo addressed to Waverly, outlining the situation and describing the two assassins. He sealed the memo in an opaque envelope which he directed to Leon Dodgson—#35 . This he