Part VI
"Time to blow this place once and for all."
The elevator panels suddenly parted to reveal Sonja Dressler standing a little behind an armed guard who had the elevator control key in one hand and a nasty-looking Lugar revolver in the other, which was pointed at the two U.N.C.L.E. agents.
The Nazi doctor was dressed in a bulky white terrycloth robe and nightclothes, and her unbound gray-blond hair hung well past her narrow shoulders.
She smiled ominously at them as she said, "When I went to check on you, Nikolaus, I found you missing and Bruno deeply drugged." Her chilly gaze moved from Illya to Solo. "So Heinrich was correct. Someone did come looking for you, liebchen… another remarkably handsome young man, I see." Her pale eyes slid back to Illya. "But you belong to me now and I certainly cannot allow you to leave with your friend." Pointing at Solo she snapped, "Kill him, Fritz!"
Before the guard could fire, Illya launched himself forward to block the shot in order to protect Napoleon. His momentum created a chain reaction, knocking Fritz backward into Sonja Dressler, which sent her sprawling just as the Luger went off—the bullet narrowly missing Solo as it smashed into the rear paneled wall of the small elevator.
With a surprised grunt the guard dropped the Lugar as he and Illya also went down in a tangled heap to the floor with the Russian on top. Despite the broken arm and his bound ribs, the U.N.C.L.E. agent ignored the surge of excruciating pain and mustered every ounce of his remaining strength to slam the side of his rigid left hand into the other man's throat, crushing his windpipe and killing him instantly.
Napoleon, meanwhile, has his attention diverted by the two armed security men who had just appeared at the far end of the corridor and were running toward them. Pulling the THRUSH handgun again he took cover behind a large janitorial cart parked nearby.
Shrieking with rage, Sonja Dressler floundered on the floor, momentarily entangled in her bulky robe. "Do not harm the blond man," she screamed at her approaching guards. She then spotted the Luger lying near the dead guard and scrambled toward it.
Illya rolled off of Frtiz and up onto his knees, just managing to snatch the gun away from the enraged woman's desperate reach.
His expression deadly despite the intense pain he was in, he pointed the Lugar at the Nazi scientist and automatically grated in German, "Stehen bleiben, Frau Doktor!" ("Stay where you are, Doctor!")
Part of Kuryakin's mission had been to assassinate Sonja Dressler, and having the advantage now he could have done that easily; but he was momentarily distracted by the gunfight between Solo and the two security men and thus did not see the woman smoothly slip her hand into her robe pocket and pull out a small revolver, which she pointed at him.
"We seem to have a standoff, lieber junge," ("darling boy") she said smugly, bringing Illya's full attention back to her, thin lips curving into a triumphant smile. Her icy blue eyes narrowed and locked challengingly with his as she continued. "I am an excellent shot. Put the gun down and I won't let my men harm you if you obey me." She then tried softening her tone and expression. "You know I've been good to you, Nikolaus! And I will make you an immortal among men with untold wealth and power at your disposal! Something THRUSH could never do for you, so surrender…."
The blond agent gave her a tight-lipped smile in return. "There is a saying about not judging a book by its cover," he bit out in German. "My name is really Illya Kuryakin, not Nikolaus Werner. I am Russian-born, not German. And I am an U.N.C.L.E. agent, sent here with my partner to destroy your research and this facility before THRUSH does make contact with you."
Illya saw her countenance change to stunned disbelief, then contort with murderous fury…and he threw himself sideways and fired the Luger just as she fired her gun at him.
Although he was forced to use his left hand, his aim was true—and Sonja Dressler toppled backward, shot through the forehead.
Meanwhile Solo, who had efficiently taken out the other two guards, was racing back to his partner just as a half dozen more armed men emerged from a stairwell further down the corridor. He scooped up the elevator key laying near Fritz's body, then grabbed Illya's good arm and hauled him to his feet, saying, "Nice shot! But time to go!"
The senior agent ushered him back into the elevator again and then leaned out and tossed toward the new arrivals a small smoke grenade he'd snatched from the utility belt at his waist.
He and Illya could hear angry shouts, curses, and then violent coughing as the doors slid shut. Once again Napoleon punched the button that would take them back up to the top level of the fortress; and this time they made it.
Glancing at his partner as the doors slid open again he could see that Illya was fading fast. He looked utterly exhausted now and pale as death, and Napoleon could tell that the earlier intense adrenaline rush from his confrontation with Fritz and Dressler was wearing off; but fortunately Solo knew exactly where they needed to go since he had thoroughly explored the large structure during his time spent in the air ducts.
Using the elevator key Napoleon locked it in place, then with the younger agent in tow he headed straight to a short maintenance stairwell that opened out onto the rooftop.
He bolted the door behind them and led his partner to the center of the roof area. Because they were in the mountains the night air was cool and the sky overhead cloudless with a full bright moon showing.
Producing a stolen THRUSH communicator Napoleon thumbed it on and transmitted a coded signal.
"We have friends in high places who should be here soon," he winked at Illya "Because you'd been hurt, I had to come up with an alternate means of escape for us. I knew you wouldn't be able to make it down the mountain again. "
The other smiled wanly then swayed a little on his feet, and Solo saw that the glazed look had come back into his blue eyes. Thinking the injection he'd given him was also wearing off, he placed a supporting arm around Illya's waist saying, "Hang in there just a little longer," as he intently scanned the night sky.
That's when he felt the warm sticky blood.
"Oh, Christ...you've been shot!" he exclaimed in dismay, staring at his friend. "I thought that guard missed you!" In the moonlight Solo could now see the red stain spreading along the waistband of Illya's white pajama bottoms.
The blond shook his head weakly. "Not the guard. Dressler. As I shot her, she didn't….miss…either."
Napoleon quickly took off the lab coat he was still wearing and ripped off one of the sleeves. "Here, keep this pressed against the wound," he said, giving Illya the wadded cloth. "Why didn't you say something?!"
"Because we were busy narrowly escaping…with our lives," came the wry reply, and then his knees started to buckle, although he did not pass out.
Solo caught and steadied him as he anxiously scanned the sky again.
"Sorry…just suddenly felt a little dizzy," Kuryakin apologized.
"They'll be here soon, and there are medics on board." he reassured him. "Just hang on," he repeated.
"Trying my best. I don't want…to miss the…fireworks," Illya replied faintly.
Suddenly the two men heard the whir of a helicopter as it burst over the mountain tops to hone in directly to their location on the rooftop. As it came nearer Solo and Illya could make out the THRUSH insignia on the side. But at the controls were U.N.C.L.E. pilots.
The chopper smoothly lowered to within a foot of the flat rooftop and the two agents stumbled toward it. Strong hands reached out to help them on board, and then within moments the helicopter lifted up and away into the night sky.
Illya was immediately placed in the medical bay of the chopper and medics began to tend to him. Solo sat nearby, still watching over his friend and partner as he brought the doctors up to speed on the extent of Illya's injuries.
They efficiently began addressing the gunshot wound first and preparing IVs to stabilize the young man, who was amazingly still conscious.
"Time to blow this place once and for all," Solo said, flashing Illya a knowing grin. Holding up his wrist he pulled out the stem on his watch…and then pushed it in.
The chopper had flown a safe distance away by now but everyone on board still heard the chain-reaction series of explosions that followed, and Napoleon and Illya exchanged broad smiles amid the cheers from the helicopter crew.
Peering out a side window of the chopper Solo saw a huge fireball light up the sky as the fortress, its inhabitants, and most importantly, Sonja Dresler's research and genetics lab all were destroyed in that erupting blaze of glory that could be seen and felt for miles.
