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section7mfu2015-04-28 11:14 pm
jantojones.livejournal.com) wrote in section7mfu2015-04-28 11:14 pm
The Spy's Eye Affair (Part 2) - Picfic Tuesday - April 28th
The Spy's Eye Affair - Part 1
Illya Kuryakin’s face was practically expressionless. Only someone who knew him really well would be able to see the forgiveness in his eyes, and Napoleon saw it. Not that it gave him any comfort.
“Do you have any last words, Mr Kuryakin?” Dr Thomas asked, almost gleefully.
“Only this,” replied Illya, in a tone which could have frozen the sun. “I will make you pay.”
“That will be impressive, as well as impossible. Say Da Svidanye to your friend.”
Before Thomas could give the order to kill, the door to the lab was slammed open. A heavyset man, with dark hair and hooded eyes entered, followed by two heavily armed guards.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” the man yelled at the scientist. “I know you haven’t been with THRUSH long, but you should know by now just how important these particular men are. They need to be questioned. Lock them in a cell until I’m ready for them, the guards will go with you.”
“I’m sorry Mr Wells,” Dr Thomas apologised. “I didn’t realise. I already have Solo in my control, so you should be able to get what you want from him easily.”
“That, at least, is something you’ve managed to do right.”
…………………………………
The two agents were locked into the same cell, after having all their equipment confiscated. Well, all the equipment their captor could find. Illya was shackled to the wall, with his hands above him. His right eye was swelling closed from where one of the guards had elbowed him. Despite knowing he would fail, the Russian had tried a spirited attempt to escape, which had been more out of professional pride than anything else. As for Napoleon, he had his hands fastened in front of him, and had been given a direct instruction not to escape. He’d tried a couple of times to remove the contact lens, but the pain from the shocks it caused was too much to bear. It also left him feeling a little light-headed.
“I’m going to assume that this was a trap, and we walked right into it,” Illya stated. “Do you know who this Wells is?”
“I have no idea, Partner Mine,” Solo replied, as he pulled a thin piece of metal from the end of his shoelace. “They have made a mistake though.”
Illya didn’t need to ask what the mistake was. As he’d watched Napoleon extract his lock-pick, he’d realised that the CEA had only been instructed not to escape. Nothing had been said about helping Illya to get out. A little warily, Solo got to his feet and swiftly freed his partner.
“Ok, I want you to make a break for it, and get back to HQ,” he instructed. “Rally the cavalry, and then come back for me.”
“By which point, you’ll have either been electrocuted to death,” Illya muttered, as he worked the pick in the door lock. “Or will have been forced to give up information.”
“Don’t fight me on this, Tovarisch,” Napoleon warned.
Illya straightened up. “And please don’t pull rank on me, my friend.”
The Russian threw a hard punch, which landed heavily against Solo’s jaw, knocking the man clean out. He would no doubt pay for it later, but he wasn’t going to worry about it just yet. His concern right at that moment was the contact lens. Illya was hoping that, since Napoleon was not escaping of his own volition, and was unconscious, the lens wouldn’t work. He was not looking forward to the senior agent waking up.
Lifting Solo up into a fireman’s carry, Kuryakin began their escape. Knowing there was little point in attempting to reach their car, Illya made a bee-line for the back of the facility. He only had to stop once, to incapacitate a guard, but that had the added advantage of furnishing him with a weapon.
Quite remarkably, Illya found an exit relatively quickly. Expecting an alarm as the door opened, he was fairly surprised to be greeted with silence. Reminding himself that there were more pressing matters to hand, Illya dashed across the small patch of open ground, towards some dense woodland ahead. Once inside the trees, it didn’t take him long to realise he wasn’t going to be able to carry Napoleon with any sort of speed. The American was going to have to get through under his own steam, but that would be scuppered by the lens.
Carefully laying Solo on the damp ground, Illya prised open the eye which held the contact lens. He was on the horns of a dilemma. Should he remove it, or leave it in? If he took it out, there was the possibility of damaging the eye. However, leaving it in could trigger the device when Napoleon woke and realised he was, technically, escaping. When it came down to it, he had the choice between risking his friend’s eye, or his life. It was no contest. With a care which belied his large hands, Illya gently removed the lens, and was relieved to find it wasn’t attached in any way.
Before he could rouse Solo to wakefulness, he became aware of voices coming towards him. It wasn’t difficult to figure they were looking for the absconding prisoners, so Illya had to act quickly. Pressing the contact lens into Napoleon’s hand, he folded the fingers over it. Then, as best he could, he covered his friend’s torso and legs with soil and twigs. Using more soil, the blond rubbed it over the brunet’s face, and laid a few leaves and twigs on top. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep him hidden. With a final check, Illya darted away.
To Be Continued (With the next picfic)
Illya Kuryakin’s face was practically expressionless. Only someone who knew him really well would be able to see the forgiveness in his eyes, and Napoleon saw it. Not that it gave him any comfort.
“Do you have any last words, Mr Kuryakin?” Dr Thomas asked, almost gleefully.
“Only this,” replied Illya, in a tone which could have frozen the sun. “I will make you pay.”
“That will be impressive, as well as impossible. Say Da Svidanye to your friend.”
Before Thomas could give the order to kill, the door to the lab was slammed open. A heavyset man, with dark hair and hooded eyes entered, followed by two heavily armed guards.
“What do you think you’re doing?!” the man yelled at the scientist. “I know you haven’t been with THRUSH long, but you should know by now just how important these particular men are. They need to be questioned. Lock them in a cell until I’m ready for them, the guards will go with you.”
“I’m sorry Mr Wells,” Dr Thomas apologised. “I didn’t realise. I already have Solo in my control, so you should be able to get what you want from him easily.”
“That, at least, is something you’ve managed to do right.”
…………………………………
The two agents were locked into the same cell, after having all their equipment confiscated. Well, all the equipment their captor could find. Illya was shackled to the wall, with his hands above him. His right eye was swelling closed from where one of the guards had elbowed him. Despite knowing he would fail, the Russian had tried a spirited attempt to escape, which had been more out of professional pride than anything else. As for Napoleon, he had his hands fastened in front of him, and had been given a direct instruction not to escape. He’d tried a couple of times to remove the contact lens, but the pain from the shocks it caused was too much to bear. It also left him feeling a little light-headed.
“I’m going to assume that this was a trap, and we walked right into it,” Illya stated. “Do you know who this Wells is?”
“I have no idea, Partner Mine,” Solo replied, as he pulled a thin piece of metal from the end of his shoelace. “They have made a mistake though.”
Illya didn’t need to ask what the mistake was. As he’d watched Napoleon extract his lock-pick, he’d realised that the CEA had only been instructed not to escape. Nothing had been said about helping Illya to get out. A little warily, Solo got to his feet and swiftly freed his partner.
“Ok, I want you to make a break for it, and get back to HQ,” he instructed. “Rally the cavalry, and then come back for me.”
“By which point, you’ll have either been electrocuted to death,” Illya muttered, as he worked the pick in the door lock. “Or will have been forced to give up information.”
“Don’t fight me on this, Tovarisch,” Napoleon warned.
Illya straightened up. “And please don’t pull rank on me, my friend.”
The Russian threw a hard punch, which landed heavily against Solo’s jaw, knocking the man clean out. He would no doubt pay for it later, but he wasn’t going to worry about it just yet. His concern right at that moment was the contact lens. Illya was hoping that, since Napoleon was not escaping of his own volition, and was unconscious, the lens wouldn’t work. He was not looking forward to the senior agent waking up.
Lifting Solo up into a fireman’s carry, Kuryakin began their escape. Knowing there was little point in attempting to reach their car, Illya made a bee-line for the back of the facility. He only had to stop once, to incapacitate a guard, but that had the added advantage of furnishing him with a weapon.
Quite remarkably, Illya found an exit relatively quickly. Expecting an alarm as the door opened, he was fairly surprised to be greeted with silence. Reminding himself that there were more pressing matters to hand, Illya dashed across the small patch of open ground, towards some dense woodland ahead. Once inside the trees, it didn’t take him long to realise he wasn’t going to be able to carry Napoleon with any sort of speed. The American was going to have to get through under his own steam, but that would be scuppered by the lens.
Carefully laying Solo on the damp ground, Illya prised open the eye which held the contact lens. He was on the horns of a dilemma. Should he remove it, or leave it in? If he took it out, there was the possibility of damaging the eye. However, leaving it in could trigger the device when Napoleon woke and realised he was, technically, escaping. When it came down to it, he had the choice between risking his friend’s eye, or his life. It was no contest. With a care which belied his large hands, Illya gently removed the lens, and was relieved to find it wasn’t attached in any way.
Before he could rouse Solo to wakefulness, he became aware of voices coming towards him. It wasn’t difficult to figure they were looking for the absconding prisoners, so Illya had to act quickly. Pressing the contact lens into Napoleon’s hand, he folded the fingers over it. Then, as best he could, he covered his friend’s torso and legs with soil and twigs. Using more soil, the blond rubbed it over the brunet’s face, and laid a few leaves and twigs on top. Hopefully, it would be enough to keep him hidden. With a final check, Illya darted away.
To Be Continued (With the next picfic)
no subject
It's a good thing there aren't many Thrushies as sensible as Dr Thomas.
no subject
Unfortunately for Dr Thomas, Solo is a strategist. It's his job to find his way around problems.