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As he crawled forward, he could make out the dim outlines of a building, sitting dark and shadowy at the far edge of a clearing. The light shone from a single window beside the door.

He reached the porch of the building and dragged himself up the three wooden steps there. With the last ounce of strength he had left, he threw himself forward against the door, hammering feebly with his frozen hands at its wooden base.

Footsteps sounded inside. The door was pulled open. "My God!" a man's voice said. "Pete! Come here! Quick!"

Hands touched his shoulders, lifting Napoleon Solo inside. He felt warmth, real warmth. He raised his eyes, looking into the face of an alarmed Colorado Forest Ranger, that title displayed across the front of his green uniform shirt.

Solo's throat worked and he forced hoarse words past his lips. "Telephone," he said. "Have you got a telephone?"

"Yes," the ranger said. "What happened?"

Solo didn't hear the rest of it. He felt another pair of hands on his legs, and then he was being lifted. He relaxed his body. He knew, somehow, that it was going to be all right, now.

ACT VI: STAND AND FIGHT

Alexander Waverly received the long distance phone call exactly thirty minutes after Illya Kuryakin had left New York for Hoover Dam.

He had been busy during that thirty minutes. He had put through a call to the Secretary of the Interior in Washington, getting him out of bed, and had explained the situation. The Secretary, obviously alarmed, had agreed to instruct Hoover Dam officials to immediately shut down all facilities. He informed Waverly that an immeasurable amount of damage could be done to the Dam itself, since the huge dynamos inside drew 1,344,800 kilowatts of hydroelectric power from the Colorado River. Both Waverly and the Secretary agreed that the entire affair should be kept as quiet as possible in the interest of public safety and wellbeing.

Waverly had then contacted the U.N.C.L.E. district office in Salt Lake City, directing the agent-in-charge to dispatch a group of operatives to Pardee. He gave a quick outline of what they were to be looking for, and of the circumstances in general.

He had been about to radio the U.N.C.L.E. Air Command, to order them to conduct a thorough air reconnaissance of the entire upper half of the Colorado River, when the call came through on his private line.

The man on the other end of the wire identified himself as a Colorado State Forest Ranger named Emmett, Ranger Station 17, Rocky Mountain National Park. He said that a man, half-frozen almost delirious, had stumbled to their door over an hour before. After asking if they had a telephone, Emmett said, the man had passed out, and they had administered hurried first aid. When the man regained consciousness, he had given them Waverly's private number and implored them to put the call through without delay, it was a matter of the utmost urgency, involving national security.

Waverly's brain was whirring like the well-organized computer it was. "The name of this man, please?"

"He says he is Napoleon Solo."

Faint traces of what might have been a smile touched Waverly's stoical features. He asked, "Is Mr. Solo able to speak with me?"

"I can't keep him in bed, weak as he is," Emmett said. "He's right over my shoulder."

Solo came on the line. He began talking immediately, his voice hoarse, only barely audible over the long-distance wire. He detailed everything that he had learned, everything that had happened to him, beginning with Estrellita Valdone and his exposure to the nerve gas. He dwelled at length on his encounter with Dr. Mordecai Sagine.

Waverly listened intently. When Solo had finished, he explained that U.N.C.L.E. had learned only a short time ago that the Colorado River was the initial prime THRUSH target, and related the pertinent details surrounding Illya's capture of Estrellita Valdone and the man named Benson.

"Illya!" Solo interrupted. "Illya's alive?"

"Yes, he's alive, Mr. Solo," Waverly said. "Did you believe him dead?"

Waverly could hear the relieved sigh Napoleon Solo emitted on the other end. Solo related rapidly that he had thought Illya killed in the accident in Mexico, and that THRUSH hadn't led him to believe any different while he was being held captive.

Waverly said, "I have sent Mr. Kuryakin to Hoover Dam. It has been shut down completely in an effort to stop crystallization of the entire Colorado River."

"The chemical was supposed to have been introduced at seven o'clock, Mountain Time," Solo said. "Over three hours ago. Yes, there might still be time."

"You say that the Colorado was only to be a test?" Waverly asked.

"The final test," Solo said. "The first step in THRUSH's singular offensive. Once THRUSH Council has been satisfied, then their entire operation will swing into full-scale, simultaneous action."

Waverly tapped his pen on the desk top absently. "I was afraid THRUSH were planning something along those lines," he said. "Every major body of fresh water in the world, eh? Unless I miss my guess, THRUSH will waste no time once the Colorado is crystallized. No time at all."

"Tomorrow some time, then," Solo said. "Tomorrow morning!"

"Exactly, Mr. Solo," Waverly said. "And once THRUSH realizes that we know of their little plot, which they shall when only the upper section of the Colorado succumbs to the chemical, they will attempt to take prompt advantage of the upper-hand they hold before we can react further. Tomorrow morning is rather a safe assumption, I should think."

"Which means we've got to stop them before they can get underway," Solo said.

Waverly said, "The salt chemical is being manufactured at the fortress in the Rocky Mountains, is that correct?"

"Yes," Solo said. "Manufactured in aggregate amounts, judging from what I saw." "Is it being stored there for later transportation, do you think? Or have they previously transferred quantities of it elsewhere?"

"Some, possibly," Solo said. "But I'd say most of the chemical—is still at the fortress. They were working like beavers bottling the stuff today. I think they plan to take it out by helicopter."

"Most likely to a hidden THRUSH air base," Waverly said. "It would be a simple task for their jets to convey the chemical to any section of the world in a matter of hours." He paused, deep in thought. "If we can penetrate their fortress and seize the chemical, we shall nip the entire maneuver before it begins. Do you know its exact location, Mr. Solo?"

"I think so," Solo said. "The rangers have a geographical map here, and I've been going over it." He gave Waverly the longitude and latitude, according to the map.

"I am going to send interceptor planes into the area immediately," Waverly told him. If THRUSH attempts to transport the chemical tonight, we shall see that they do not succeed."

"How do you propose to get inside the fortress?" Solo asked him. "It's solid concrete and steel, built into the hollow of the mountain. Not bombs, surely. The antidote would be destroyed, as well as the chemical and the formulas for them."

"Not bombs," Waverly assured him. "I believe I have the answer to that problem. The road you mentioned, leading up to the fortress. Do you know where it begins?"

"There are two roads, I think. The main one begins several miles northwest of where I am now," Solo said. "A mining community called Granite River." He gave its exact location.