compiled by Mike Nevins.


    The sound expanded, moving to the walls as though it were something solid that needed a vessel to contain it. (20)

    Thrush had bottled him up like mouse in a Mason jar and no amount of banging away at the lid was going to help. (27)

    The long, erratic conga of lights lighting up the Queens skyline hung like fireflies in the far off darkness. (34)

    The girl laughed---a warm, vitamin-packed laugh which had all the vigor and go-to-hellishness of a Marine drill sergeant. (46)

    The sky was a floor of unbroken blue.... (80)

    The next sound either Napoleon and Jerry Terry heard was.... (82)

    “One more pass and he’ll rip our wings off like cancelled stamps.” (83)

    ....[T]he crippled wing caused a conflict of desires, aerodynamically. (85)

    The Russian pursed his lips thoughtfully and considered his reply for a few well-chosen seconds before answering. (89)

    When Kuryakin had gone, Waverly put a few well-oiled wheels of communication into motion. (90)

    Her rib cage was drawn taut, showing muscular hollows, thrusting her fine breasts into a painful cramp of beauty. (93)

    His own lithe body of a hundred and eighty pounds was contorted and doubled like some fantastic pretzel not of his own making. (93)

    ....[H]e felt simply puffy and lifeless, like a wad of absorbent cotton. (94)     Solo’s eyes saw the withered, burned flesh of the man but his brain made no comment.(102)

    It was one thing to be in the soup himself, quite another to have to stand around while it was stirred with somebody he liked.(121)

    Despite the bandaged wound of her shoulder, she was standing up and taking notice. Notice had closed her mouth in terror. (122)

    The faces of the two soldiers were dull and expressionless. Like trained seals, Solo thought. (122)

    All of her headlong charge, with the poker held like a flaming rapier, was spearheaded for the body of Napoleon Solo. (124)

    “We’re being infiltrated upon....” (144)


    A swarm of monumental doubts...tormented her. But soon, all the bees died. (11)

    The assassin’s weight, coupled with his own sudden unconsciousness, sagged over the sill. (13)

    An orderly row of ten enamel buzzers were immediately available in Waverly’s private office. (16)

    On her head she wore a tam curved to the tilt of her head. (18)    

    There was no time to wonder about the woman. About her flaming red hair, her wide shelf of breasts.... (19)

    “Don’t count on that,” April leveled coldly. (25)

    The yellow ribbon of communications felt like a hot potato in his lean fingers, and was more indigestible for a man in his position to swallow. (29)

    “....Since you both had a hand in his apprehension, it is somehow fitting that you should also be the instrument that affects his return to our ranks.” (34)

    “One does not mock an agent whom Thrush would go to such great lengths to return him to the field....” (40)

    ....[In] life, the corpse had been one Clyde C. Charleston, New Jersey truck driver....Possibly some poor recruit whom THRUSH had inveigled for the use of his vehicle. (52)

    For all agents everywhere---death came sooner or later. (64)

    Looking at her one would find it hard to believe she was capable of the very most inhuman, cold-blooded acts. (74)

    ....[S]he wondered who was left in the Enforcements pool that she could use....Perhaps even Randy Kovac. No, Randy was still a trainee....[H]e was so Irish. (77)

    She had lost an entire set of personal tools. Something she had rarely ever done. (79) 

    Now, he could see Arnolda Van Atta’s tigerish green hips. (80)

    The green velvet dress paused. (80)

    [H]is body...was as thin as a skeleton, sharply contrasting with the fullsome Frankenstein mask. (85)

    He was sure that was before Miss Dancer’s time but he didn’t pause to certify the thought. (109)

    For a terrifying moment, he felt himself caught in the middle of life and death. (110)
    April could feel the rounded, woman’s body beneath the ill-fitting clothes. There were fullsome curves to Egret-Riddle. (124)

    Both women stood, panting, waiting for the other to make a move. (125)

THE GIRL FROM U.N.C.L.E. #2: THE BLAZING AFFAIR (Signet pb#D3042,   1966)
    Their visas and bona fides were in excellent order.... (18)

    [T]he normal unkemptness of his yellow hair was plastered in a part. (19)

    If TORCH was on the move, perhaps it would be wise to pour on all the manpower coal that U.N.C.L.E. possessed. (25)

    It has always amazed Mr. Waverly that two such contrasting men could work so well as a team. But then again, it proclaimed the very depth and efficacy of U.N.C.L.E. that they could do so. (29)

        It was as if the very ground itself had been forsaken by the world. (85)

    The sudden benison of a day away from the hot office and assorted chores of Simon Ashley’s office was unimaginably luxuriant. (100)

    He had learned a deadly truth about himself that morning as he watched Sybil Brighton’s death throes grow weaker and more absolute. (104)

    [H]er heart was bumping against her ribs, a molehill of dread in her breast that was trying to build into a mountain. (115)

    Boots [were] thundering down corridors and along the multiple passageways that beehived this underground maze. (122)



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