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There went the group with the girl, down the corridor into the dam, toward the elevator that would take them back to the surface, the highway, and civilization. And there was the man in the loud shirt, still with his fancy expensive camera...And where was his camera bag?

* * *

Napoleon stood up straight as the group went into the glazed tile corridor and out of his sight. He hurried around the corner and up the stairs. There they went.

There was a bend in the corridor, and his shoes skidded on the floor as he came around it at a run. The group was packing into the elevator, and near the front was the photographer. As he turned around, Napoleon saw clearly he was not carrying his gadget bag. The doors slid closed.

Napoleon whipped out his transceiver. "Illya! Contact the south elevator and have it stopped. I think our man is on it. It just took off."

There was no answer. He turned and headed down the corridor again. As he came into the generator house he thumbed the signal button again. Illya answered at once. "Were you signaling me a minute ago?"

"Yes. Get to a phone and contact the south elevator. Our pigeon is trying to fly. Have it sent back down here."

"I'm calling now." Illya's voice continued, more faintly, "This is Agent Kuryakin. We have reason to believe that the man we are after is in your elevator. Return to the bottom of the dam. Tell your passengers that you left somebody behind, or something that will not alarm them or upset the one we are interested in."

Napoleon said, "Then come on over here. I'll be meeting the elevator." He hurried back to the end of the corridor, and waited. Soon the air stopped sighing out between the closed doors, and a moment later they slid open.

There seemed to be a little consternation among the passengers as Napoleon raised his arms for their attention.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, ladies and gentlemen — ah, ladies and gentlemen?" They were all chattering among themselves, and only paused at his second bid for their attention.

"Sorry for the inconvenience, but we're afraid one of you may have inadvertently left something valuable around the dam." And then they weren't listening to him anymore, as they all started searching pockets and purses for their wallets, cards, and anything else that might have been lost and found. Napoleon paused with his mouth open until they settled down, then continued. "If the gentleman" — he pointed — "in the red and yellow shirt will step out, please, everyone else can go on to the top of the dam. Your camera case, sir," Napoleon said politely, as Illya came trotting up the corridor with three guards. "Sorry to have delayed you," he concluded to the remainder of the group in the elevator. "Thanks for your cooperation." The doors hissed closed and the two U.N.C.L.E. agents turned to the man in the loud shirt.

Illya said, "I'm afraid you may have lost your accessory bag during your tour."

The man looked blank for a moment, then his hand went to his side and an expression of surprise spread across his face. "Well — my gosh! How could that've happened? I sure thought I had it with me all the time. Did you find it?"

"We thought you might want to help us look," said Illya, staring him coldly in the eye.

He gave a nervous kind of laugh. "Well, I...I can't afford much time. But why all the fuss? It's sure too small for a bomb, fellas, and besides, I hardly have room for my lenses and film in there as it is." He laughed again, and did a little better at it.

It takes an expert to be able to laugh convincingly — and this man was not an expert. Napoleon felt a small glow of satisfaction, knowing that this was the end of the vigil, and it had indeed paid off.

Deep inside, a small voice whispered that he'd feel pretty foolish if it turned out this character had really only planted a bomb and they'd let the Energy Damper get away.... He shook off the thought.

Whatever was in the camera bag hadn't gone off yet — the lights were shining brightly and the generators still hummed. And the man was talking again.

"Now really, I can't stay much longer. It'll take me at least an hour to drive back to Vegas, and I've got to catch a plane at 4:30."

Illya answered him. "It has your valuable camera equipment in it. Surely you won't mind waiting until we find it. The lenses alone must represent a considerable investment."

"Well, sure, fellas, but I've got these plane tickets, and my wife'll be worried if I'm not back on schedule. Look, you can send the case to me C.O.D. when you find it — it's packed nice and solid." He reached for his pocket. "Here's my address."

"There will be another plane," Illya said. "You can wait here..."

The man's hand came out of his pocket with a pen, and a cloud of white smoke blasted out. Illya choked and doubled over. Napoleon grabbed for the man in the loud shirt, and got a face full of fog. He was holding his breath, but it squirted in his eyes and in a moment he was blinded with tears. He could hear the guards struggling, then a fist hit flesh and there was a grunt of pain.

A moment later he felt a hand on his arm and heard the voice of a guard, strained as if through clenched teeth. "Mr. Solo — I think my foot's busted. But I can see okay. Help me and I'll guide you to the phone."

"Which way?" asked Napoleon, feeling for the man's arm.

"This way — a little to the right.... It's about fifty feet."

"How's my partner?"

"I dunno. He's on the floor, but he's still moving. I guess he really got a faceful of that stuff. Louie's helpin' him."

"Where'd the other guy go?"

"He ran off toward the penstock hatch. Wall's about five feet in front of you — that's it. Phone's ten feet to the right...here. Lemme dial."

Solo's vision was beginning to clear a little. As the guard's weight shifted, he was able to raise a hand to wipe his burning eyes. The guard spoke into the phone.

"Bill — close the elevators and get the tourists out. Watch out for a guy in a loud sport shirt, red and yellow mostly. He's got a big camera around his neck, looks like a regular tourist. He just gassed these two U.N.C.L.E. guys and me and Louie got bashed up a little too. He headed for the penstocks about two minutes ago.... Okay.... Right. I can make it to the first-aid kit. Yeah. Thanks."

He hung up, and looked closely at Napoleon. "You can see again?"

Napoleon shook his head to clear it, and said, "Well enough. Where's this first-aid kit? I can navigate myself — you want to stay here?"

The guard looked down, and said, "I — I think I'd better. Lemme down easy, now..."

Napoleon did, and got directions to the nearest first-aid station. He found the green metal box and brought it back. The guard got out bandages and a small splint. Napoleon took the box on to where Illya was now sitting up, gasping for breath. He unshipped the small green sphere and a plastic mask, fitting it over Illya's nose and mouth.

"Hold this, and breathe deeply."

Illya did, and in a minute or two the oxygen had flushed his lungs and revived him completely. His eyes were running and bloodshot, but his breathing was easy as he got to his feet.

"Caught like an amateur," he said bitterly. "I inhaled just as he fired the gas." He looked around. "Don't tell me you let him get away!"

"Temporarily," Napoleon admitted; "but the top of the dam has already been closed off, so he'll be trapped."