Heil Harris!

with one of my best men. She is packing.”
    “Oh. Are you all moving out?” asked Steed facetiously.
    Harris nodded. “This little demonstration will have served its purpose by tonight. So Mrs. Peel and I are going back to Germany. It is the only place that appreciates firm leadership. And since you murdered my friend Neufeld I shall have to resume command myself.”
    Harris turned away abruptly, clutching his left hand to prevent it from shaking, and muttered, “All right. Have the man executed.”
    As soon as Harris had closed the door behind him, Hayburn bent over and asked Steed how he was feeling.
    “Pretty groggy, old man. But I don’t think that will last long.” He smiled. “I’m surprised the old man won’t be taking you to Germany. But then I suppose you are too incompetent. Bungling every job you are given to do.”
    Hayburn was standing over him now. “This is one job I shall be glad to do thoroughly.”
    As the man was reaching for his gun Steed rose sharply to his feet, cracked his head into Hayburn’s jaw and took the gun in the same action. Before the other three soldiers could react Steed had them covered. “All right,” he purred melodramatically, “don’t move.”
    “Don’t kill me,” whined Hayburn. “I didn’t mean to shoot that girl. I was aiming at you.”
    “You’re a bloody bad shot.”
    Steed gestured to the three startled soldiers and told them to put Colonel Hayburn in the iron maiden. “It’s all right,” he assured them, “it only kills the man when you push the spikes through his eyes.”
    Colonel Hayburn was still whining, but his men had their spirit encouraged and they put him gleefully into the iron maiden. It was a tight squeeze and the spikes that were permanently on the inside poked him rather uncomfortably. But they sat on the lid as if it was a crowded suitcase and eventually clamped it shut.
    The whines turned to screams, but they were muffled screams. Steed laughed gently and tapped on the metal head. “Don’t go away,” he instructed. “The police will be down for you shortly. And if I ever see you again I’ll shoot on sight.”
     
    Emma heard the words “Have the man executed,” before she switched off the receiver and put the fountain pen back in her handbag. It was time for action.
    The problem with Steed, she thought as she hurried out to the small white Lotus Elan, was that he could never keep out of trouble for long. He needed someone to look after him. She waved her two guards away.
    “I’ll be gone for two hours,” she called. “Stay here until Herr Harris arrives and tell him to wait.”
    She covered the distance in twenty minutes flat, convinced with every minute that passed that Steed must be getting nearer to the gates of wherever they sent him. Up or down. She screeched into the barracks square, checked on the Bereta against her thigh, and went through into the guard room.
    Two soldiers saluted her as she continued down into the dungeon. They were trying to tell her that someone was gone, but she knew that. She was only interested in the man who remained.
    But the dungeon was empty. She stood surveying the empty room for several seconds trying to locate the whinnying sounds. Then she saw the iron maiden move.
    “Steed!” She ran to the iron maiden and hauled open the catches. “What on earth have they done to you?”
    Hayburn sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Steed?” He climbed out of the metal frame and stretched his muscles. “So you’re a friend of Steed’s, are you? I might have guessed.”
    He lurched suddenly at her, and as she ducked he grabbed her hair. He pulled violently and tried to lift his knee into her face. Fighting women was something that didn’t test his nerves too much.
    Emma grunted with pain, tried to throw him and failed. She murmured her apologies as she drew the Bereta and shot him. He was leaning over her and the bullet went straight through his heart. Emma had to slip out from under him pretty quickly to avoid spoiling her multi-coloured camel coat.
    “I bet you’d have missed at twenty yards,” said a voice behind her.
    “Steed! I thought they were going to kill you.”
    “Well, they did think about it. But I changed their minds.” He held out his hand. “Come up into the parade ground. You’re just in time to see the end of a rebellion.” He led her up the stairs as if they were spending a pleasant evening at the theatre. “I was afraid you might miss the whole show. But I