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Dr. Patricia Sains paused as she reached the top of the rock formation she was scaling. Stray blond hairs that refused to stay lodged in her ponytail, were plastered to her neck and face with sweat and ash. She was winded, but pulled her small, athletic frame to the top of the rocks with ease. First she looked behind her to watch the slow progress of her colleague Dr. Martin Dover. Then she looked up at the rumbling volcano. The ground shook beneath her and she knelt down grasping the rock for security.
   
Calling out below her, Dr. Dover clutched the minuscule handholds precariously.
   
"Pat...!" He yelled as his hands slipped and he slid back down the rock face.
   
From her perch at the top, Patricia didn�t worry too much, Dr. Dover had not even climbed the first rock. When the trembling stopped, she looked over the edge.
   
"Marty?" She called when she could not see him.
   
Stumbling over the roots at his feet, the mildly rotund geologist stepped away from the rock and looked up at her. Squinting beneath the thick lenses of his glasses he called and waved.
   
"Do you see anything? Anyone?"
   
"I haven�t looked yet, just wait there." She answered. Then she disappeared from his view.
   
"Can you see the Volcano better? How does she look?" His voice shook with anticipation and fear.
   
After several seconds he heard a startled cry from above. Then she yelled out. "DENNIS! DENNIS!"
   
Below her, Dr. Dover, begged for information. "What? What is it? Do you see Dennis? What about Mr. Kuryakin, Leita or Dr. Kito?"
   
Suddenly, Patricia was scurrying back down the rock. She slipped the last few feet and hit the ground hard, but stayed on her feet. She was breathless and excited, ignoring the cuts and bruises left by the rock on her hands and knees. Grabbing Dr. Dover by the shirt sleeve, she pushed him ahead of her into the woods.
   
"I saw Dennis, walking towards the beach. There are more residual boulders down there that we can climb and wait for rescue."
   
"Then why are we headed back into the woods? Let�s get down there."
   
"Because, I also saw somebody laying on a ledge of that cliff that sprung up where the camp used to be."
   
"Laying? Were they dead?" Dr. Dover stumbled over a tree branch and stopped. He turned to look at her, huffing and puffing.
   
"I don�t know, Marty," she stopped and answered him in exasperation, "that�s why were going there." Then she gently touched his arm and pushed him forward.
   
The rumbling started again as they reached what was left of the campsite. Dover collapsed, sweat dripping into his eyes, and clung to the ground desperately. Sains continued towards the cliff she had seen earlier, getting as far as she could before the trembling earth threw her to her knees. The rocks above her swayed, but held fast. Nearby she heard the crashing whoosh of a tree falling to the ground.
   
When the trembling stopped, She was once again struck by the stunning silence. Without waiting for Dover, she stood up and began to ascend the cliff face before her.
   
When she reached the ledge, only about 8 feet up, she found two prone figures leaning against the hard rock. Kuryakin lay with his eyes closed, there was a small trickle of blood dripping from his forehead and his black T-shirt was wet and sticky over his right shoulder. In his arms and resting his head on Kuryakin�s chest was Dr. Harry Kito. Kito�s face was covered in blood, and the makeshift bandage that was tied around his head was soaked.
   
"Harry? Illya?" Patricia spoke to them quietly, and reached out her hand to touch them.
   
She jumped when Illya was instantly awake. He looked at her, shocked and groggy.
   
"Dr. Sains....."
   
"Gathering her wits and her strength, Dr. Sains pulled Harry Kito into her own arms. "Illya, can you help me get him down? We have to move quickly, get to the beach."
   
"Yes, of course." With a steadiness that surprised her, Illya rose to his knees and began to lift the unconscious doctor.
   
"Go to the bottom, I�ll lower him. Do you think you can handle him down there?" Illya�s voice seemed to her, as solid as the rock they sat on.
   
"Dr. Dover is down there, he�ll help me." She spoke as she scrambled over the ledge and down.
   
Reaching the bottom, she called Dover to help as Illya, holding him under his arms, began to lower Kito towards her.
   
When Dr. Dover saw Kuryakin lean over the side and begin to lower his colleague, he jumped to his feet and ran to help Sains.
   
When Illya was finally able to release the weight of the unconscious man he fell back against the cliff, closed his eyes and tried desperately to slow his breathing. The dull ache in his shoulder caused his whole body to pound, and scream in refusal to obey his commands. To him, it felt like an eternity before his hand answered his call to wipe the sweat from his eyes. Glancing at the blood and soot that came away from his forehead, he wiped his hand on his already bloodied shirt and grimaced as he pushed himself up to his knees. When he moved, his hand knocked something metallic against the rock wall. He looked and reached down to pick up the small tracking device that still beeped in rhythm with Napoleon�s tooth. Glancing at it, he noticed with surprise that the signal had moved. It was no longer centered within the volcano.
   
Below him, Patricia Sains called. "Mr. Kuryakin?"
   
"I�m coming. Have you seen anyone else?" It took him a moment to find his voice. In his own ears it sounded shaky and weak.
   
"Only Dennis. He�s heading towards the beach," came the reply.
   
Climbing down the short distance to the ground was torture, but when he finally stood on the ground beside them, the confidence they held in his ability to get them home was evident in their eyes. Breathing deep, and once again pushing the pain from his mind he motioned for them to move out.
   
"Dr. Dover, help me with his shoulders, Dr. Sains, lift his feet. Let�s move."


Solo walked purposefully out towards the Helicopter pad. There were three, armed men standing around it and he had no plan for confronting them, but he knew he was getting on that chopper. As one of the men approached he was preparing the best, most convincing grin he could muster.
   
With his hand outstretched to greet Solo, the man spoke first. "Are you Solo?"
   
Confused, Solo answered truthfully and shook his hand. "Yes, I..."
   
"Good, we were about to leave without you. We�re going out to the volcano to look for a bunch of scientists we left there. Alexander Waverly...you know, the head of U.N.C.L.E. over in New York?"
   
"Yes, I know who he is."
   
"Well climb aboard, he said you�d be wantin� to come along."


Illya leaned back against the hard rock with a sigh of relief. Closing his eyes, he placed his left hand on his aching shoulder. The wound bled freely now, after lugging Dr. Kito to the beach and maneuvering him up onto the boulders to wait. Dr. Dover and Dr. Dennis Lightfoot stood nearby scanning the beach for there still missing colleague.
   
Dr. Sains bent down next to him, gently pushed his hand away, and, with a piece of torn cloth, applied light pressure in an effort to ease the flow.
   
Illya didn�t protest.
   
"How did this happen? It wasn�t here on the island was it?"
   
"No." Illya answered her trying to sit up. "Volcanoes don�t make holes like this one."
   
She pushed him back gently. "What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere with a hole in your shoulder?"
   
Illya ignored her and turned her attention away from him by asking, "How is Dr. Kito? Any signs of consciousness?"
   
"No." She spoke with sadness and worry in her tone. Replacing her own hand with Illya�s, she turned and leaned over Kito to check him again.
   
With her attention diverted, Illya sat up. Still holding the cloth firmly to his shoulder, he pulled the small tracking device out of his belt and watched the beeping signal as it slowly drew closer to the island from out over the ocean.


Strapped into a harness and secured with a large hook to the floor of the chopper, Napoleon scanned the beach from high overhead.
   
Through the head gear he wore he heard the pilots voice. "We�ll head straight to the coordinates of their campsite. If we don�t find them there, we�ll make a run around the beaches."
   
Solo nodded his understanding and watched the ground intently, searching for any sign of the party. Trees and rocks passed below him, many of them fallen or crumbled. There was a mighty roar ahead of them and Solo looked up to see the Volcano explode with a red hot shower of sparks and lava. He stared, mesmerized for a second by the glowing red and blue mass that seamed, from where he watched, to crawl slowly down the mountainside.
   
When the chopper slowed and hovered in the air, Solo looked away from the eruption and peered down at what was left of the campsite. Tall, jagged rocks jutted out of the ground, trees lay up-rooted and shook with violent tremors, to the rhythm of the volcano. Through the trees Solo thought he could see a brown cloth that might have been a tent.
    �If only I had known he was out here!� he thought to himself �crazy Russian!� Then he berated himself, knowing there still would have been no other choice. In his frustration, he had to bite his lip to keep from yelling Illya�s name fruitlessly into the wind.
   
To his surprise, the chopper turned away from the site and headed off. Solo spun around too quickly, feeling the sharp stab of his injured ribs.
   
"Where are we going? Let me down on the cable and I�ll look around. They could be injured, or trapped."
   
"If they�re down there, we won�t get to them through all that mess. Did any of you see anyone?" was the pilots reply.
   
Solo dropped his shoulders and returned to searching the ground without comment. The other two men in the helicopter had seen nothing.
   
The chopper reached the beach quickly and turned to circle around the Island. The ash and smoke in the air made seeing the beach more and more difficult and the pilot flew out away from the island in an effort to avoid all that the volcano spat at them.
   
"I see �em!" The man to Solo�s left called out.
   
Solo turned anxiously to see several forms perched on a pile of rocks on the beach. With a lump in his throat he was not accustomed to feeling, Solo counted five people. Three stood, waving and jumping.
   
The chopper couldn�t land, but hovered about twenty feet above the team. Smoke whirled around and under the chopper blades, and the island trembled threatening to collapse the boulders into the sea. Peering out as the cable was prepared for rescue, Solo willed the smoke to clear and give him a view of the survivors.
   
He tried to be patient as one at a time, and with practiced ease, the helicopter crew descended into the haze and brought up scientist after scientist. Ignoring the constant reminder of his own injuries, he busied himself, helping each doctor board and unhook from the cable. He checked Dr. Kito�s injuries and felt for the gently beating pulse. He even chuckled at his unreasonable fear of asking one of the scientists if his partner was down there. He thought to himself, �If Illya is down there, I know that stubborn Russian will be the last one up.�
   
When he finally grasped Illya�s hand and pulled him into the chopper, Napoleon knew instantly that his friend was not well. Releasing him from the belt that held him to the cable, Solo grasped him around his chest and pulled him further into the chopper away from the open hatch.
   
With an outpouring of breath he had not realized he held, he leaned back against the far wall and held his partner close. The other members of Illya�s scouting team huddled against the same wall, quietly contemplating their narrow escape. The chopper pulled away from the Island and the crew shut the hatch. The volcano coughed loudly, as though it did not want to release them, but the pilot quickly carried them out of its reach.
   
Napoleon felt a strong heartbeat below his hands and steady calm breathing, but Illya didn�t move and Solo heard the pain in his voice when he muttered, "Did you find Leita Reynolds?"
   
"No, partner, just relax."
   
Illya moved slowly, trying to sit up. When a low moan escaped his lips, Solo gently held him in place. "I said, relax." Solo repeated in his I�m-in-charge-and-you-have-to-do-as-I-say-tone.
   
It made Illya stop and lean back again, but he continued to talk. "Where have you been, Napoleon?"
   
"Making a mess, as usual. Did you like this one? It was my biggest yet, don�t you think?"
   
Illya moaned instead of laughing.
   
"What about you? What in the name of U.N.C.L.E. did you think you were doing?"
   
Illya raised his head to look at him with false indignation. " I was rescuing you, couldn�t you tell?"

                                                                THE END


 

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