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section7mfuThe Spy's Eye Affair - Part 1
The Spy's Eye Affair - Part 2
Illya ran, ignoring the branches which whipped against his face. Having no communicator, with which to call in reinforcements, meant he would have to find a public telephone. His plan was scuppered almost immediately when a THRUSH goon stepped out from the trees and slammed his rifle into Kuryakin’s face. Illya dropped, with the beginnings of a second black eye already forming. The unconscious agent was carried back to the facility, where he was taken to a medical lab, and strapped to a dental chair. He came to with a groan, and very quickly realised his situation.
“Where is Solo?” Nicholas Wells demanded of him.
Illya shook his head, in an effort to clear his blurred vision.
“Gone,” he replied. “I removed the lens and we split up.
“Pity,” Wells snarled. “Still, we have you, and I know the good doctor has more of the lenses.”
“Actually,” Doctor Thomas interjected, while examining Illya’s face. “Both eyes have been damaged, albeit temporarily, but the lenses won’t work.”
Wells practically roared with frustration.
“Then I guess we’ll have to question him the old fashioned way.”
………………………………………………………………………………………
Napoleon woke in confusion, which dissipated rapidly. His first clear thought, as he rubbed his bruised jaw, was a vow to discuss the hitting of superiors with Illya. Sitting up, and brushing the dirt from his suit (something else he word have to have a word about), Napoleon felt something drop from his hand. He soon figured it was the contact lens when he noticed he had yet to be zapped by the thing. Napoleon cursed under his breath as he carefully tried to locate the object amongst the debris. With a stroke of luck he found in within five minutes. Tucking it safely into his pocket, Solo reached for the communicator what wasn’t there. He cursed again.
Pulling himself to his feet, Solo checked his watch. Five hours had passed since he and Illya had first entered the facility. Darkness was on the verge of descending and a wind was starting to pick up. The breeze dislodged some blossom from the trees around him and, for a moment, the pink hue of the petals transported Napoleon to Japan. The memory of the cherry blossoms, and the beautiful woman amongst them, brought a soft smile to his lips.
He shook the memory away. There were much more important things to consider. One of which was, where was Illya? Had he gone for the cavalry, or had he been recaptured. His only option was to find a way to contact headquarters. Half an hour later, Napoleon managed to find a telephone, and negotiated his way through the several levels of security. Finally, he got to Waverly.
“We were starting to become concerned, Mr Solo. What is your report?”
“With respect Sir, I will have to give you the details later,” Napoleon told his boss, wincing at the disgruntled harrumph. “Have you heard from Mr Kuryakin?”
“We have had no communication from either of you since this morning,” the Old Man informed him.
“I need a back-up team as quickly as possible. This facility is in the hands of THRUSH, and I’m assuming that goes for Illya also.”
“Very well, Mr Solo,” Waverly agreed. “A team is being dispatched forthwith. I suggest, in the interim, that you attempt to locate your partner.”
……………………………………………………………………………………..
Illya was in a state of euphoria, having been pumped full of the latest THRUSH truth serum. It had been a final resort on Wells’ part. The severe beating he’d ordered the guards to give Kuryakin, had failed to yield anything. Unfortunately, the serum appeared to be unsuccessful also. The U.N.C.L.E. agent was giggling from the high he was experiencing, and seemed not to understand anything which was being said to him. This, of course, just angered Wells further. In sheer frustration, he pulled out his gun and aimed it at Illya; who completely ignored it.
“Drop it!”
Looking towards the source of the voice, Wells was surprised to see who was standing there.
“I didn’t expect to see you Solo,” he sneered. “I thought you had abandoned your friend here.”
“We aren’t THRUSH,” Napoleon retorted. “We don’t leave anyone behind if we can help it. Drop the weapon, I won’t ask again.”
Wells considered his options. Several scenarios passed through mind, but only one resulted in him remaining alive. He surrendered his weapon and placed his hands on his head.
“Very shortly, U.N.C.L.E. will take control here,” Napoleon told him. “Your future is not going to be a happy one, especially if we allow my partner here to do your interrogation. He gets a little enthusiastic.”
The Russian himself had gone quiet. His come down from the truth drug had been sudden, and he’d fallen into the happy, pain-free world of unconsciousness.
……………………………………………………………………………………….
He returned a few hours later in his least favourite place. How he’d gotten to medical was beyond his comprehension, but he had to admit it was better than being beaten. His body hurt and his head was pounding, but Illya only had one thing on his mind.
“When can I get out of here?”
Napoleon smiled.
“Believe it or not, Tovarisch, you’ll probably be able to go shortly.”
“What happened to Wells?” the Russian asked, relaxing at thought of going home.
“He’s going to the U.N.C.L.E. prison facility, along with Dr Thomas,” Solo informed his partner. “Waverly is fairly happy at the outcome of today, and R&D couldn’t wait to get their hands on the contact lenses.”
“Well, they can keep them away from me,” Illya huffed, crossing his arms in defiance.
“With that bank robber’s mask of bruises you’re sporting, I doubt they’d be able to use you anyway. Speaking of which.”
Napoleon pointed at the mark which covered the left side of his jaw. Illya simply smirked, a very painful movement given the state of his face. Half of him was sorry that he’d had to hit his friend, but the other half was very much enjoying the fact.
The Spy's Eye Affair - Part 2
Illya ran, ignoring the branches which whipped against his face. Having no communicator, with which to call in reinforcements, meant he would have to find a public telephone. His plan was scuppered almost immediately when a THRUSH goon stepped out from the trees and slammed his rifle into Kuryakin’s face. Illya dropped, with the beginnings of a second black eye already forming. The unconscious agent was carried back to the facility, where he was taken to a medical lab, and strapped to a dental chair. He came to with a groan, and very quickly realised his situation.
“Where is Solo?” Nicholas Wells demanded of him.
Illya shook his head, in an effort to clear his blurred vision.
“Gone,” he replied. “I removed the lens and we split up.
“Pity,” Wells snarled. “Still, we have you, and I know the good doctor has more of the lenses.”
“Actually,” Doctor Thomas interjected, while examining Illya’s face. “Both eyes have been damaged, albeit temporarily, but the lenses won’t work.”
Wells practically roared with frustration.
“Then I guess we’ll have to question him the old fashioned way.”
………………………………………………………………………………………
Napoleon woke in confusion, which dissipated rapidly. His first clear thought, as he rubbed his bruised jaw, was a vow to discuss the hitting of superiors with Illya. Sitting up, and brushing the dirt from his suit (something else he word have to have a word about), Napoleon felt something drop from his hand. He soon figured it was the contact lens when he noticed he had yet to be zapped by the thing. Napoleon cursed under his breath as he carefully tried to locate the object amongst the debris. With a stroke of luck he found in within five minutes. Tucking it safely into his pocket, Solo reached for the communicator what wasn’t there. He cursed again.
Pulling himself to his feet, Solo checked his watch. Five hours had passed since he and Illya had first entered the facility. Darkness was on the verge of descending and a wind was starting to pick up. The breeze dislodged some blossom from the trees around him and, for a moment, the pink hue of the petals transported Napoleon to Japan. The memory of the cherry blossoms, and the beautiful woman amongst them, brought a soft smile to his lips.
He shook the memory away. There were much more important things to consider. One of which was, where was Illya? Had he gone for the cavalry, or had he been recaptured. His only option was to find a way to contact headquarters. Half an hour later, Napoleon managed to find a telephone, and negotiated his way through the several levels of security. Finally, he got to Waverly.
“We were starting to become concerned, Mr Solo. What is your report?”
“With respect Sir, I will have to give you the details later,” Napoleon told his boss, wincing at the disgruntled harrumph. “Have you heard from Mr Kuryakin?”
“We have had no communication from either of you since this morning,” the Old Man informed him.
“I need a back-up team as quickly as possible. This facility is in the hands of THRUSH, and I’m assuming that goes for Illya also.”
“Very well, Mr Solo,” Waverly agreed. “A team is being dispatched forthwith. I suggest, in the interim, that you attempt to locate your partner.”
……………………………………………………………………………………..
Illya was in a state of euphoria, having been pumped full of the latest THRUSH truth serum. It had been a final resort on Wells’ part. The severe beating he’d ordered the guards to give Kuryakin, had failed to yield anything. Unfortunately, the serum appeared to be unsuccessful also. The U.N.C.L.E. agent was giggling from the high he was experiencing, and seemed not to understand anything which was being said to him. This, of course, just angered Wells further. In sheer frustration, he pulled out his gun and aimed it at Illya; who completely ignored it.
“Drop it!”
Looking towards the source of the voice, Wells was surprised to see who was standing there.
“I didn’t expect to see you Solo,” he sneered. “I thought you had abandoned your friend here.”
“We aren’t THRUSH,” Napoleon retorted. “We don’t leave anyone behind if we can help it. Drop the weapon, I won’t ask again.”
Wells considered his options. Several scenarios passed through mind, but only one resulted in him remaining alive. He surrendered his weapon and placed his hands on his head.
“Very shortly, U.N.C.L.E. will take control here,” Napoleon told him. “Your future is not going to be a happy one, especially if we allow my partner here to do your interrogation. He gets a little enthusiastic.”
The Russian himself had gone quiet. His come down from the truth drug had been sudden, and he’d fallen into the happy, pain-free world of unconsciousness.
……………………………………………………………………………………….
He returned a few hours later in his least favourite place. How he’d gotten to medical was beyond his comprehension, but he had to admit it was better than being beaten. His body hurt and his head was pounding, but Illya only had one thing on his mind.
“When can I get out of here?”
Napoleon smiled.
“Believe it or not, Tovarisch, you’ll probably be able to go shortly.”
“What happened to Wells?” the Russian asked, relaxing at thought of going home.
“He’s going to the U.N.C.L.E. prison facility, along with Dr Thomas,” Solo informed his partner. “Waverly is fairly happy at the outcome of today, and R&D couldn’t wait to get their hands on the contact lenses.”
“Well, they can keep them away from me,” Illya huffed, crossing his arms in defiance.
“With that bank robber’s mask of bruises you’re sporting, I doubt they’d be able to use you anyway. Speaking of which.”
Napoleon pointed at the mark which covered the left side of his jaw. Illya simply smirked, a very painful movement given the state of his face. Half of him was sorry that he’d had to hit his friend, but the other half was very much enjoying the fact.
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Date: 2015-05-13 01:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-05-13 06:21 pm (UTC)Glad you like it.