Their quarry had gone to ground in one of the towers overlooking the old bridge crossing the Rhine. They'd been chasing the THRUSH doctor and his two associates across Strasbourg for the past two hours.
Dr. Waldmüller was carrying a deadly new toxin, Illya and Napoleon had been sent to retrieve the formula if possible otherwise it was to be destroyed.
The chase had now ended in a stalemate, Waldmüller and his men were holed up in the tower, unable to escape because the UNCLE agents were covering the only door into or out of the building, they in turn were pinned down by the return fire from the tower.
The stand-off lasted for fifteen minutes, each making token pot-shots from their hiding places, neither able to inflict any damage to the other, before there was a yell from the building.
"If you don't allow us to leave, we will start shooting at passers-by."
"Think he means it?" Illya queried.
"Who knows? But we can't afford to take the chance."
"No, that is true. I will contact the local police and inform them they need to keep people away from here."
"Good idea, tovarisch, it'll be an empty threat if there's no one to fire at."
"Cover me while I make a start clearing the area."
"Easier said than done, have you seen how small those windows are?"
"Da, but I know you will do your best, you are one of the top shooters of UNCLE you know."
"Hmm, if I remember right, only one person is better."
"I know," Kuryakin grinned, "and the Old Man doesn't even use the telescopic sight." *
"Ahh, make that two then," Solo groaned as his partner slid quietly away.
Illya's departure drew some shots, but they were all wide of their mark and he made it safely to the buildings opposite the tower. The French police promised some officers would be dispatched to cordon off the area from the public while the agents dealt with the situation.
The Russian was glad when he could re-join his partner ten minutes later, during that time he'd been thinking about what could be done to end the stalemate.
"Napoleon, I have an idea."
"Oh? Care to share it with me?" Solo asked several munutes later when Kuryakin didn't say anymore.
"Sorry, I was working something out," he then told his partner his plan and together they worked on the finer details.
"Think this is going to work?" The American queried as he watched the Russian fixing the attachments onto his special, turning it into a highly powerful and accurate carbine.
"Da, I think so, maybe you should, what is it you say? Keep your hands crossed?"
"Fingers, keep your fingers crossed," Solo corrected, "I've got them and whatever else I can cross, crossed, tovarisch. If anyone can do this, it's you."
The Russian loaded his modified round into the chamber and took aim, taking his time to ensure his best chance of success. Satisfied, he braced himself against the expected kickback and pulled the trigger.
"Yes!" Napoleon smiled and slapped his partners back, as what looked like smoke started escaping from the window Illya had aimed for.
"Here, put this on," Kuryakin said as he handed Solo a breathing mask.
They moved carefully towards the tower, no one opened fire on them and smoke still came from the opening at the top. Still wary, they cautiously entered through the doorway and made their way up the stone spiral stairs.
Pushing open the door at the end, they stepped into the room occupied by Dr. Waldmüller. The THRUSH scientist and his men were sprawled unconscious on the floor. Illya and Napoleon checked their adversaries over and located the vial containing the toxin, which was, thankfully, still intact. Solo tucked it safely into his pocket and contacted the local UNCLE office, arranging for the three downed men to be taken into custody.
Illya had worked out the knockout gas used in his modified bullet would be enough to keep them sleeping for the next three hours.
"Good, another job done. Waverly should be pleased we managed to get hold of this," Solo patted the pocket containing the deadly mixture, "good idea of yours, modifying that round."
"Da, it would not have worked without the new concentrated knock out gas from Section 8 though."
"I knew there was a reason why I let you tag along."
"Yes, I do have my uses do I not? You know what they say 'Kuryakins are for life, not just for making rescues'," he replied with a grin.
It was Napoleons turn to roll his eyes as he pushed his partner towards a café, hoping food would prevent any more quips from the unusually buoyant Russian.
* Thrush Roulette Affair