"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.
"I will expedite a full U.N.C.L.E. raiding unit to Granite River as quickly as possible. They will mobilize there, and at dawn attack the fortress."
"I had better lead the unit," Solo said. "I know the area now."
"No, Mr. Solo," Waverly said. "You have been through quite enough. You are to remain at the ranger station. In bed."
I've been on this assignment from the start," Solo said stubbornly. "I want to be in on it at the finish."
"You are to remain at the Ranger station," Waverly repeated in a firm voice. "That is an order, Mr. Solo."
"But sir..."
"An order, I repeat! " Waverly barked. He hung up.
Waverly sat staring at the silent receiver. He knew Napoleon Solo's carefree, almost indifferent, attitude toward his job with U.N.C.L.E. was just an elaborate facade hiding the true, dedicated patriot within.
TWO
At the first yellowish rays of dawn the following morning, Illya Kuryakin stood on the observation deck of Hoover Dam. A chill, whistling wind tugged at his heavy mackinaw, numbing his face beneath the parka hood.
At the base of the dam stretching upstream as far as he could see, was a frozen, stilled floor of white. Lake Mead, the lake formed by the presence of Hoover Dam and extending some one-hundred fifteen miles upstream, and beyond that the raging Colorado River, were now nothing more than rock salt.
Beside Illya, the director of Hoover Dam said, "We closed all the locks and spillways, and shut down the dynamos, as soon as we received word from Washington last night. It appears as if we were in time."
Illya Kuryakin nodded. Downstream, as he had seen moments before, the Colorado flowed on its natural course. They had managed to halt the crystalisation at the dam, saving, as Waverly had said, thousands of acres of fertile land that depended on the Colorado for irrigation.
Illya had arrived at the Dam a few minutes earlier. He had taken an U.N.C.L.E. jet from New York to Las Vegas, waited impatiently for a heavy storm there to subside, and then had gone by helicopter to Hoover Dam. The entire dam had of course, been blocked off, and the copter had set down without obstruction in the visitor's parking lot.
He had received the news that Napoleon Solo was safe while aboard the jet enroute to Las Vegas. Waverly had radioed, telling him what Solo had learned and informing him of the course of action U.N.C.L.E. was taking.
Illya had asked Waverly if he could join Solo at Granite River for the assault on the THRUSH fortress in the Rockies, and had been told that he was to continue on to Hoover Dam and remain there until further instructions. Waverly did not elaborate as to his reasons for wanting Illya there.
Illya was dissatisfied. He felt left out of things. He did not want to be stuck here on the concrete dam; the need for positive action, fed by the long hours and days of waiting, was strong inside him. Why had Waverly wanted him to remain here when he could...?
He realized the director was speaking to him "...cold out here," the director said. "Why don't you come down to my office? I have some coffee there."
"All right," Illya said glumly.
Inside the director's office, Illya sat with a steaming cup of black coffee, wondering how the U.N.C.L.E. attack on the THRUSH fortress, now underway, was progressing.
The director, sitting across from him behind a large desk, chewed his lip.
"Frankly, Mr. Kuryakin," he said finally, "This is the gravest situation we've ever faced here. There have been heavy snow storms in the Rockies of late. Because of that, there will be a strong run-off of snow into the Colorado. Will this fresh water crystallize upon contact with the already hardened water?"
"I'm not sure," Illya said. "I should think it would."
"That's what I was afraid of," the director said. "You say there is an antidote for the process?"