 Take one man on a relentless search at a strange and beautiful woman and the answer in the shifting sands of the desert. That's our story, The Mission, taken from the files of John Steele at Benjerer. Hello friends, this is John Steele. We're back this week to bring you another story of action and excitement. So sit back, relax if you can, and listen. Because this is an unusual tale of far-off places. As I've said before, these stories are not mine, but those of friends and people I've met on my travels. Our story this week happened to Mickey Banyon, whom I came to know while I was working overseas for the State Department. I've asked Mickey to come over and tell the tale himself, so here he is. Mickey? Excitement. Brother, that's something I've been living on all my life. Things were never going to settle down for this baby. And that's why when I got in the Army, I signed up for the OSS, Office of Strategic Service to the High Brows, Action and Excitement to the guys who were in it. After the war was over, I stayed on with the State Department as a special agent, and I had several assignments, mostly routine stuff, and life was getting kind of dull. I just about made up my mind to move on to something else when I was ordered to Ankara. Ankara during the war, a hot bed of political intrigue where enemy agents rubbed shoulders in the menica phase and where the dirtiest, most unscrupulous politics in the world were played. This assignment I liked. My orders read to report to Steele the consulate, so I checked into the reasonable hotel, cleaned up and beat it over to Steele's office. Hello, Banyon. Hi. I expected you two days ago. Well, I got held up in Paris. Your papers out of order? Call it whatever you like. All. Okay, how many times does a guy get to Paris? Washington said you were the best they had. You must remember to send him an orchid. There won't be any time for that kind of stuff from now on. This is a business with me, Steele. When it's time to play, I do it. When it's work to be done, I'm pretty good at that, too. We'll see. Well, what's it all about? Remember an agent by the name of Lockridge? Huh? He was sent out on this assignment three months ago. When did he last check back? He didn't. That's what happens when little boys don't eat their spinach, huh? Something like that. Okay. Come over here and take a look at this map. Tim. The area shown here is most familiarly called the Near East. Amazing. And since the war, this entire area has been in political ferment. Go on. Many of these countries have resorted to free elections to determine their political future. Huh? There are a group of powers that are most interested in seeing these elections go in any direction other than democratic. And they shall remain nameless. It goes without saying that we are just as interested in any political future other than totalitarianism. Obviously. So far, we batted about 500. That's not good enough. Not one compared to the political character of this area before the war. I see. Well, that's the background. Here's the specific problem. My job. That's right. An election will be held in this area here within the next three weeks. It is vitally important that it go democratic. Well, what does it look like? Ordinarily, it would look very good. This past history has been democratic. It's the popular choice. Well, then what's the problem? In these small countries, government structure is often weak, being largely an Arab population. Power has been seized by a strong few. Go on. These power of a few have their own standing armies, have the power of life or death over their subject. They're actually feudal lords. Even today? Yes. The strongest of these lords is Rashid Sayed. Rashid Sayed. He controls approximately 20,000 votes in the coming election. That's more than Gallup gave Truman. Just recently, all Rashid has shown signs of fabulous wealth, such as he never had before. And we believe the powers unfriendly to the democracies are buying off those 20,000 votes. Any idea how? Certainly not in cash. Rashid is a sly, wily trader. We believe there's some connection between the sudden wealth of Sayed and the increased supply of hashis in Egypt and Palestine. I mean, is that much money and drugs? These can be bought for $20 a pound here and sold for $200 a pound in Egypt. How's a thousand percent profit sound to you? I could manage to exist. Well, that's it. If we discover that Rashid makes his money in narcotics, we can remove him before the election. That's all that's necessary. Without his direction, the election will be honest. That's all, huh? Well, except to point out that, obviously, there are others who would prefer that Rashid be left alone. They may feel rather strongly on the subject. Yes, I can understand. This is not international politics as the folks back home know it. We throw the book away in this game. When you're being dealt that way, you deal back the same way, only a little faster or you don't survive. This is buy and sell, compromise here and win a hand there and try to outthink it and outsmart the others to get out of the game. This is the hard, cold, practical side of this business. Well, when do I leave? Tonight. I just got here. You've got three weeks. I ought to be back in two and have the most beautiful blonde and anchor awaiting. I never worked more than two weeks without play. Good luck. Well, you've got to find a blonde in Turkey. I bought steel story with a grain of salt. That kind of cops and robbers stuff was all right during the war, but the war was over. Well, two days after my talk with steel, I was in jail back. My papers said I was the foreign representative for an American import-export firm, so I had no trouble getting a room at the only hotel in town. The first night, I headed straight for the only bar. I learned a long time ago that more often than not, the local bar is the town's city hall. Good evening, FND. A table, yes. Yeah, I'll take a table. Follow please. Okay. Here, please. No, I like that one by the wall. Yes, FND. Ah, that's better. Eat, yes. Yeah, yeah. What do you got? FND. Oh, look, I don't care. Just bring me the best. Best. Yes. Oh, and waiter. Yes, FND. Bring me a drink. Drink? No, drink and a glass drink. Drink? My whiskey. Yeah. Yes. Hassan is the best he can. What? Hassan. Your waiter. Oh. You are the American. Mm-hmm. News travels fast in jail back. Especially about strangers? Yes. You are staring, Mr. Banyan. Was I? A surprise perhaps to find a European in jail back. I guess so, especially one so beautiful. You're generous. I am honest. Whiskey, FND. Oh, yeah. One for the lady. Yes, Hassan. Wine, please. Ah. Well, now you know my name. I don't know yours. Everyone calls me Maria. Is that how it's listed in the phone book? Pardon? I said what's the last name? Maria will do. No, OK. Simone, Simone. Maria, Maria. Why not? Americans have a strange sense of humor. Well, we wear well. I've heard. Wine, FND. Oh, thanks, Hassan. OK, that's all beaded. He is waiting to be paid. No credit in jail back? There's no old Muslim proverb that says bad debts make bad friends. Yeah. All right. Here you are, Hassan. Thank you, FND. Well, here's to a very beautiful... Here you are, Maria. What? Looking all over for you. And now you've found me. So I have. Obviously enjoying yourself. No doubt I'm in trivia. Don't be foolish, Phillip. Captain Arnold, Mr. Banyan. How do you do? Hi. Mr. Banyan is an American. Obviously. Just arrived in jail back. Charming. Oh. Captain Arnold commands the Mobile Unit. Oh, I didn't know that there were British forces still on duty in these. No, that there were still Mobile Units activated. Huh? The Captain commands the Laundry Unit. Oh. Do you mean, though, Banyan? One doesn't just pick up... Sit down, Phillip, and stop explaining. Yes, of course. I, uh, sub bio please. I wasn't expecting you until Thursday. I see. Hey, care for a drink, Arnold? I wouldn't be here that long. Oh, just being neighborly. You're here on business, Mr. Banyan? Yeah. I, uh, thought perhaps you might be just passing through. No, no, no. My firm is interested in pouring tobacco. Oh. If we can get the right price. Are you feeling ill, Mr. Banyan? No, I'm okay. Oh, that guy named Rush had sighed. You are pale, Mr. Banyan. Name of Rush had sighed. I gotta see him. He's trying to stand up. Hey, I gotta get up. Have fun. I gotta get up. Oh. Oh. Broom spun around me, dizzling, and the floor drifted slowly up and hit me in the face. The oldest gag in the book, a dope drink. The next thing I knew, a pinpoint of light shot through the darkness and grew and grew until a white glare burned my eyes. I tried to force them open, but my head trod with the pain, so I rose slowly over on my stomach and the light disappeared. Get up, Mr. Banyan. Huh? Get up. You will feel much better. Oh, no. Help our guest up, Hasan. Oh, let go, let go. I can get... Oh, hospitality, my friend. Oh, leave me alone, as you wish. I can get up alone. Where am I? It is not important. You sighed. Let me first apologize for my two enthusiastic supporters. Yeah. I asked only that you be brought to me. Oh, what a sucker I want. The manner in which it was accomplished was entirely their own idea. It lacked the finesse of a craftsman. Well, that makes my head feel a lot better. Now, you are recovered now. Well, I can think anyway. That is good. Oh, this is quite a layout. It is enough. A cigarette? Yeah. One of my own, you know. Oh, Hasan the waiter here is one of your men, huh? His entire family are trusted followers. Here, Hasan. Here, sir, Fendi. Okay, sir, what's on your mind? You are to the point, Mr. Banyan. You didn't bring me here to swap smokes. Pardon? Oh, nothing. We have been expecting you for several weeks, my friend. Oh. Ever since the young Mr. Lockridge had his unfortunate accident. I don't know what you took. No one could explain how he got separated from the rest of the hunting party. We searched for days, but you know the desert. So? This is an unfortunate situation. And so unnecessary. Go on. It requires all our ingenuity to protect our guests from harm. Yes, I'll bet. You're a businessman, Mr. Banyan. Yeah. And I'm a man of considerable wealth. I don't get you. Hasan. Oh! Perhaps that will clarify that. Yeah, it does. You can see how concerned I am for your health, my friend. So that's the score. Pardon? You want to buy me off? Let us say that I wish to ensure your safe return. No dice. Hasan. Oh! This could be centered so peacefully. No. I am a very patient man, Mr. Banyan. You can perhaps we can persuade you to change your mind. Never in a million years. Help our guests. Oh, let go of me. It is unfortunate. We didn't figure this out alone, sir. You're taxing my patience, my friend. Because you're peanuts in this game. Mr. Banyan. No, there's an organization behind all this. I have warned your brain. You were just, Hasan. No! Front man! Jupiter's the rest. Take him, Hasan. Hasan picked me up, carried me downstairs, and threw me in the back of an old car, and then the big guy climbed in behind the wheel and we drove off. The car wounding in around the small streets, and I could see the roofs of houses sliding by the top of the door. At last, we stopped, and Hasan carried me into a hut. Tossed me down on what seemed to be a couch and shuffled off into the darkness. Back in a few minutes with a candle in an old chip basin full of water. Well, I still effendi. Give me a drink first. Yes, effendi. Hasan, help me. Let me throw something in water in my face. Hasan, sorry, hit effendi. I think maybe you are. Hasan, help. You don't like the boss, huh? Boss? Syed. Russian Syed, not good man. If you can say that again. Nothing. What do you mean, help? Hasan, help, effendi. Go back home. No, that's not good. No good? No, Hasan. Why do you want to help me? Hasan, good Muslim. Russian Syed, not good Muslim. Russian Syed, drink whiskey, kill. Hasan, brother, not kill. Hasan, not kill. Hasan's brother? How many brothers? No more brother. Where is he? Mahmood, help, effendi. What do you mean, effendi? Americani. You mean your brother Mahmood helped the other American? Yes. You mean Lockridge? Yes. Where is Lockridge? Dead. Or is Mahmood? Dead. What happened? Russian Syed is king. He say Mahmood, not good man. He put Mahmood and Effendi in sand up, up. You mean up to their necks? Yes, neck. Look, Hasan, Russian Syed had your brother killed. That's why you want to help me, right? Hasan, help Effendi go home. No, I can't go home yet. Understand? No. Look, I have a job to do. Job? Look, Hasan, you know what Hashish is? Hashish, good smoke. No, Hashish is bad. Bad? Not good. Russian Syed sends Hashish to Egypt. Understand? Egypt, yes. Syed, not good man. Russian Syed, drink whiskey, and kill. No, no, no, no, Syed, not good because he sent Hashish to Egypt. Now, Hasan, how Hashish go to Egypt? How? Yeah, how? By camel, by car, by train? Hasan, Russian Syed had your brother killed. Tell me how Hashish go to Egypt? In Khan. What do you mean in Khan? Follow. Please. Hasan motion to the door, and I followed him to the car. We drove out through the town to the desert, and after about a half an hour, Hasan pulled the car off the narrow road and hit it in the shadow of a dune. He motioned me to get out and follow, and we walked through the sand for another 20 minutes, keeping in the shadows as much as we could. Then Hasan stopped short of a big dune and put his finger to his lips. I began to remember Lockbridge, and I wondered whether this big guy was on the level. I kept watching him for any quick moves, but he got down on all fours and started creeping up the side of the dune. C-F-N-D. It was an army mobile laundry unit. Hasan put his finger to his lips again and started inching down the far side of the dune on his chest. We were almost into the shadow when we saw the sentry around the last truck. Hasan reached up yanking by the shoulder and pulled us both down in the darkness. The sentry stopped. Hold! Who goes there? Lie still, Effendi. Hasan, come back! No shoot, Hasan! No shoot! Hasan! What the devil are you doing? Follow, Effendi. In truck. Hasan, help! All right, now you, come on up. C-F-N-D. In con. Gas can. There must be a hundred of them on this truck alone. You mean there's hushish in every one of these cans? Yes, Effendi, hushish. Of course, why didn't I think of that? I don't know, it's free entry into all these countries. Nobody would think to inspect his trucks. Listen, come on, Hasan. We've got to get out of here. Come on, we'll grab that jeep. As soon as we were out in the road, I checked the gas gauge and the needle read less than a quarter full. I knew it was going to be close if we made it to Damas. Hasan showed me a road that skirted Gelbeck. By dawn, we'd let Syed's town far behind. I had time to think. As far as I could see, there was only one thing to do. Road, not good. You can see this dust for miles, too. Effendi? Never mind. Captain Arnold will follow us, Hasan. Yes, Effendi. How many railroads are on Gelbeck? Effendi? You know, railroad, train, big car on tracks. Train? Yeah. Damas? No more? No more. Well, I don't know, we're headed this way. This is going to be hard to make you understand. Hasan, understand. Look, I want the police to get rush at Syed. The police, see? Yes. Now, I can't do it alone. Alone? Yeah, by myself. Need Hasan. Yes, Hasan, help. I don't have enough time. Time? Yeah, ten days. Police got to have Syed in ten days. Quick. Yeah, quick, that's it. Thanks, big time. Yes, Effendi. Now, Hasan, come home with me. Yes. You're my only witness. That ought to be enough. Effendi? Um, Hasan, no, hashish in gas can. That puts Syed in jail. Rushed Syed in jail. Good. You understand now. Hasan, go home with Effendi. Hasan, no, go Hasan home. No, I guess you can't now. Look, we go to Damascus. Yes. Take train to Beirut. Train, yes. But we don't get on train in Damascus. Not Damascus. No, outside. We jump on when the train moves. Outside, yes. Big hill outside Damascus. Train, go, no, no, no, go quick. Ah, that's it, good. Ah, trees up ahead, eh? Yes. Must be getting near Damascus. Yes, Damascus. How far? Effendi. Oh, I'm sorry, Effendi. By foot. See, foot, walk. How long to Damascus? Walk, yes. Two sun up high. No. Huh? About four hours by foot. I'll be able to make it in a half an hour by the jeep. Oh, no. Come on, baby. Don't quit now. Come on, sweetheart. Run! Ah, not a gas. That's that. Effendi. Come on. We may as well start walking. We should have the outskirts of town by noon. Hasan told me the trains left for Beirut twice a day, and I decided to wait for the night express. We skirted the town, and we reached the hill to the west that would slow up the train and settle down on a grove of trees to wait for darkness. We took turns sleeping, and toward mid-afternoon Hasan slipped into town to get some food from a friend he said he could trust. When he got back, he told me that Rashid Said was in Damascus, and it scoured the town looking for us. About eight o'clock that evening, we heard the train pulling up the hill, so we waited at the edge of the grove to get even with us and then ran for it. I watched Hasan swing on board, then I grabbed a rung and pulled myself on. We worked a door open and started down the corridor. I glanced through the window of each compartment, looking for one that was empty. Then I found the one I wanted. Mind if we share your compartment? I beg your pardon. Don't play dumb, baby. Surprise, surprise. One on me, too. I don't know what you are. You helped slip me a Mickey once, remember? One meets so many. Banyan, baby. Mickey Banyan. Oh, yes. The American who became ill. Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on in, Hasan. Sit over there. That's better. Nice and cozy. You mind if I pull down the shades? It's a little more private. No, not at all. Ah, it's better. Didn't think I'd be seeing you again. It's not exactly unpleasant. No, no, no, it isn't. I think I'll sit right here next to you. You'll be even cozier. You do not mind. I think I'll... Sit down, baby. You and I are going to be traveling companions for a while. You know, it's too bad we didn't meet when I had more time. Gentlemen would make time. Yeah, I guess I don't qualify. You do. Thanks. One meets many little boys. Yeah. Very few. Many. You're not particular about the gentle part. That was unkind. Is there anything between a man and a woman that isn't? The right man and the right woman. Haven't met her. Are you sure? No. Sometimes we are too unwise and too busy to know. Yeah. Tell me, Nikki Bunny. Once said I was beautiful. You changed your mind. No, you'll do. Do you always try to go through ladies' pocketbooks when you kiss them? Most ladies carry lipstick in them. That depends upon the game they play. It doesn't polite to point guns. Perhaps you had better sit over by her side. Savannah wasn't a little facetist. It might have been an interesting trip. I don't get it. It's quite simple. Well, you tell me then. You hold all the yaces. I was sent here to do a job. You upset our plans. I've straightened them out. You mean you would? Yes. It's so strange that a woman should do a man's job. But in my country women work on an equal footing with men. Okay. And why this cat and mouse business? I'm a perfectionist. Well, it's nice to know that I'll die artistically. It won't be long. Always tell when you're approaching Beirut. Oh, so? The train in the tunnel will mettle the sharpness. The tunnel. Okay, switch. Down, Hassan. Down. All right, Hassan. Come on out this way. Yes, sir. Gotta get this door open now. All right. As soon as we get out of the tunnel, jump. Down. Jump, Hassan. Jump. We worked our way south all the next day, keeping off the roads and diving into haystacks every time anything moved. By late afternoon, we reached the rendezvous point and hit out in the tall grass of a high bluff overlooking the ocean. We took turns sleeping through the afternoon, waiting for darkness, and then about eight or nine o'clock, we made our way down the bluff to the beach. Take it easy, Hassan. Yes, sir. Vendee. It's not much farther. There. That does it. Now, look, Hassan. We gotta get some firewood. Wood? Yeah, wood for fire. See? Warm hands. Fire. Fire, yes. And a little pieces, see? Not big. Little. Yes. Yeah. Yeah, here's some. Yeah, here's some more. Oh, yeah, that's it. Hassan, over here. Yes. And that a boy, big fella. Now, down here now. OK, now. Match. Come on, sweetheart. Come on. Ah, cut. Good. OK. Now, my cook. Now, we signal, see? Boat. Pick us up. It's all arranged. Good. Hassan, see? Now, watch out there. I don't know why. Water, yes. We gotta signal again. Not yet. Now, again. All right. Hassan, do you hear something? Back on road. Yeah. It's a truck. No answer yet. Well, I gotta signal again. Come on. Will you see us? Look at us. There. There it is. All right. Now, look. We gotta stamp out this flyer. Come on, Hassan. We gotta swim for it. Come on, Wendy. Come on, Hassan. Get up. Not good. Well, you hurt. Hassan hurt. Bad. All right. Now, carry it. Not good, Wendy. You can't leave. You're here. Go home, Wendy. Go home. Go home. What kind of a guy do you think I am? Hassan, no. No help. Hassan. Yeah, I'll go, big fella. Hey, I'm glad you got back, Daniel. Yeah. This is a hard, dirty business. He was one right guy. Step in the way of a bullet that would have got me. Yes. I'm sorry I mucked the hand, Mr. Steele. You can't win them all. I suppose that means we lose the election. I'm afraid so. Yeah. By the way, I had a cable from Washington. They want you on a job back home. Yeah. I thought that might be good news. Mr. Steele. Yes? I don't suppose you could pull any strings. I'd be able to. Why? What do you have in mind? I'd like to stick around for a while. Oh. Somebody once told me that bad debts make bad friends. Well, I got a few I want to settle. I'll see what I can do. Thanks. About that bond you asked for, I think that might be arranged too. No thanks. I got a date with a brunette. This is one I'm going to keep. The mission, the story of a man who found you can learn even from defeat. Come back next week, friends. I'll have a fellow who had an unusual adventure fighting every second and tracking down a misplaced time bomb. I like to call it surplus. This is John Steele saying, so long and good hunting. In our cast tonight were Connie Lemke, Ross Martin, and Charlie Hulls. John Steele was played by Don Douglas. The orchestra was conducted by Selvin Levin. Remember, next week Mutual presents surplus. Another story of suspense in action from the files of John Steele, adventurer. This is the Mutual Broadcasting System.