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[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Links to: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Part 2-Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4


The prompt:

Little Diomede appeared in the distance as a bleak, forbidding island, rugged yet resisting the gales which swept through the straits from the arctic into the Bering sea.

Solo couldn’t imagine living in such a desolate place and assumed those who chose to do so were made of sterner stuff.

At the moment the island was partly enveloped in a light mist, as bits of the great wind-driven ice floes were beginning to drift against its rocky shore line, causing the temperatures clash.

They could make out the helipad and a few of the houses partially built on stilts, going up and incline like bits of vine and of course the massive circular structure that had to be the missile silo.

Peter, looking down to the water below,  pointing out some variety of whale as they broke the water’s surface with their blow holes. Walrus and seal herds were gathered in large numbers farther up the shore, a fair distance away from the human inhabitants. Countless birds flew about, most likely migrating to and from both Big and Little Diomede, and probably the few who could travel back and forth, unhindered

Not being very far from the larger island...just over two miles; Napoleon could make out the Soviet base located there. From intelligence reports, it was inhabited by approximately one hundred or so soldiers, there to make sure there was no unauthorized travel between the islands when the channel that separated both Diomedes froze over in the bitter temperatures of winter.

The native inhabitants of the bigger island under Soviet jurisdiction, had long since been moved to the mainland in order to avoid contacts across the border, making them simply another group of dispossessed and disenfranchised people.

The helicopter landing was quick and Bobby Boucher managed it with great skill. He wished his passengers luck at whatever it was they sought, and took off moments later, his new destination unknown to the agents.

The remaining mist gave the agents a bit of coverage making their arrival less obvious, and for the moment that was fortuitous until they had the lay of the land. They passed the ominous-looking silo, but it was too soon to try to infiltrate it; better to wait until darkness could afford them better cover.

They made their way up the slope; Napoleon imagining that Illya had done the same when he arrived. Yet as they wandered through the village, the two men couldn’t help but sense something was off.

There were no people going about their daily business. It was cold yes, but still life had to go on in spite of that, or had THRUSH done something to the inhabitants here?

Though it was daylight, it was a dark and dreary day and as they continued on Solo and Galey came upon a small shop called the ‘Diomede Native Store’, and seeing lights on inside, Napoleon and Peter decide to begin their inquiries within.

“Ainngai,” the proprietor greeted them in Inuit at first, but sensing they didn’t understand he switched to Russian and finally English.

“You fellas just passing through?” It was an odd question given Little Diomede was pretty much the end of the line.

“Actually we’re trying to locate a friend of ours.” Napoleon drew a black and white photo of Kuryakin from his coat pocket, showing it to the man. “He contacted us saying there was work here to be had.”

“Your friends of Nicholaí? Only been here a few days. He went down to work in ‘that’ place,” Oki pointed with his thumb out the window behind him indicating the silo. “Word is he never came back out.”

“No one’s seen him since?” Peter asked.

“Happend to a few people.  Don’t know what’s going on down there but can’t be safe. You not really thinking of trying to work for the strangers too are you?”

“As a matter of fact we are. Maybe we’ll run into our buddy. Where do we go to get hired,” Napoleon asked.  He had picked up a small carving on one of the shelves, looking like bone of some sort; I was the likeness of a polar bear.

He carefully put it back, returning his attention to the shopkeeper.

The man’s demeanor changed at his warning being taken lightly. “They do  hiring next door in the trailer, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He leaned forward on the counter, lowering his voice as he continued to speak.

“They watching us. Bad things happen to people who go work for them. Your friend was renting room at Irina Lezarev’s. She’s school teacher here; maybe she tell you more.”

“And where’s her house?” Napoleon whispered back.

“Oh she not home right now. She at the school. It the little cinderblock building with red roof at end of village. That way.” He again pointed with his thumb, but now to the left.

“Much obliged Mr…?,” Solo nodded as he ushered Peter towards the door.

“Oki Nauja. I am named for seagull who flies above ocean. I am the angakkuq... shaman here, though I have found Jesus, I still believe in power of the spirits. Shaman is counselor and healer; I talk with the spirits. They angry at the strangers and they watching them. The lights in the sky tell me that. Maybe the Tuurngait are helping the strangers too. I not know for sure.”

“Tuurngait? Solo asked.

“They spirits. Tuurngait can be good and bad. I think bad ones down there,” he again pointed to the silo.

“Thanks for you help,” Napoleon nodded, taking what the man said with a grain of salt as he nudged Peter out the door.

“There’s that talk of those lights again,” Galey whispered.”I wonder if they’re related to what our feathered friends are up to?”

“Good question Pete, in the mean time let’s hold off on going to the hiring office. I want to talk to that school teacher first to see what she knows about Illya.”

Just as they reached the simple building that served as a one room schoolhouse, a group of laughing children charged out the door.

Some of them looked to be Inuit, and a few of mixed blood, most likely of Russian descent.

“Whoa, easy there kiddies,”Solo laughed as he dodged out of the way.

“What do you say children?” A dark-haired woman spoke as she stood in the doorway, watching after them.

“Sorry Mister,” the children spoke in unison.

“No harm,” Napoleon replied.

“Now off with you. Don’t dawdle, and stay away from the water or the Qalupalik will get you.

Qalupalik is a legend told by Inuit parents and elders to prevent children from wandering too close to the shore. They are human-like creatures who live in the sea. They have long hair, green skin and long fingernails and carry away babies and children who disobey their parents or wander off alone. They take them underwater and adopt them as their own. Qalupalik make a distinctive humming sound, and the elders have said you can hear the Qalupalik when they are near.

“If you hear that humming sound, run straight home,” their teacher ordered.

“You must Miss Lezarev?” Napoleon asked.

“That’s right, but folks around here just call me Ivy, and you are?”

“What humming sound Ivy?”

“Comes from down there,” she pointed in the direction of the silo.

Solo’s brow furrowed as he cast a glance toward Peter. “My name is Eddie Vasilovich, and this is Peter Galey. We were told by Oki from the Native shop that you rented a room to a friend of ours. His name is Nick Dezhnev and we’re trying to locate him.”

Ivy’s face paled, and she quickly ushered them inside the school.

“Look, I have bad news for you. Nicholaí disappeared, never came back. I last saw him two days ago. He was hired to work for those people and like a few others, he’s disappeared. I tried to warn him about that, but he wouldn’t listen to me.  Please don’t tell me you’re looking for work too?”

“Well not exactly. We’re looking to find out what ‘those’ people are up to, that’s sort of what our friend was doing here as well, but then he…”

“I understand. I had a feeling he wasn’t just here for the work. You two look tired, and I’ll bet hungry. You’re welcome to come back to my place for something to eat. I have a big pot of halibut chowder and homemade bread, and I can make a pot of hot coffee.”

“Sounds good to me,” Napoleon nodded, winking to Peter. He was ready to get out of the cold and formulate a plan of action.

They followed Ivy to her house and like Illya they were shocked at the poor living conditions there on the island. Napoleon corrected his earlier assumption about these people, they were far beyond being made of sterner stuff. How they could survive these living conditions, and want to stay here boggled the mind.

While supper was warming, he was shown to Illya’s room and was able go through his partner’s duffel bag. The explosives were still there...that wasn’t a good sign, but on the bright side at least the Thrushies hadn’t thought of ransacking Ivy’s house.  This was now doubling the amount of C-4 they had to take out the silo and whatever else was there.

After a hearty meal they spoke more to Ivy about the traffic to and from  the island, as well as the disappearances. It seemed to her that tt was always the smart ones who disappeared. There’d been enough people gone missing to scare off the locals from doing anymore work, and now folks mostly stayed inside. They were afraid.

She too mentioned strange lights in the sky, inexplicable to the locals. There were those like Oki Nauja who believed in the old legends and ways, insisting the gods had been angered by the strangers taking up residence on the island. She didn’t believe the lights were spirits, but their presence, like the strangers, made her uneasy.

There was talk of tunnels being dug, but no one knew for sure. Ivy mentioned Nicholaí’s suggestion that these people might be trying to dig in the permafrost to lay pipes for plumbing and such, but she doubted it was true. Though he’d hinted it was perhaps the government doing work to improve life on the island, she really didn’t believe that either. There were just too many strange things happening.

“Ivy I’m going to confide in you,” Napoleon said. “My name isn’t Eddie Vasilovich;  it’s Solo, Napoleon Solo. Peter and I work for an international peacekeeping organization called the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. Nicholaí’s real name is Illya Kuryakin; he’s my partner. He was sent to find out what those people are doing on your island.”

“You see,” Peter continued,” They are from an organization called THRUSH...it stands for Technological Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity.”

“To put it simply, they’re an evil organization who wants to rule the world,” Napoleon said.” It’s our fear that what they’ve built out there is a missile silo for a rocket with a nuclear capability to be be fired at the Soviet Union; thereby starting World War III. THRUSH will sit back and wait while the United States and the Soviet Union destroy each other, and simply step in to pick up the pieces, and of course take control.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me right?”Ivy gulped down a mouthful of coffee.

“No I kid you not,” Napoleon pulled out his gold ID card, showing it to her, and letting her catch a glimpse of his Special hidden beneath his jacket.

“Wow, you are for real...and Nick, I mean your friend Illya and the others might be in big trouble I bet. We have to do something about it.”  She stood up, walking into her sitting room, taking one of her rifles down from the gun rack.

“Ivy, I think we can handle this ourselves and don’t need you to take up arms just yet,” Napoleon gingerly took the Remington from her and returned it to the gun rack.  “What you can do for us is to help create a diversion, say after dark? Something that will help distract people and draw them away from around the silo. That’ll give me and Peter time to get down into that thing and do what we have to do.”

“I have an idea,” Ivy smiled as she lit an oil lamp. “It’s already sunset, so I can manage something for you say in an hour. If the aurora is back tonight, that’ll add to the distraction.”

“What are you going to do?”Galey asked.

“You’ll know when it happens,”Ivy winked.”Just be ready when it does.”

Napoleon smiled at Peter. Leave it to Illya to find the smartest woman on the island...

CHAPTER 6

Comments

[irisheitie.livejournal.com]

Well done! You are keeping the suspense really taut! Looking forward to more. Btw-- loved the last line: leave it to Illya to find the smartest woman on the island"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Wow! Thank you! There's a few twists coming up that I think no one will suspect. And thank you as well for keeping up with the story.

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Jolly good scene setting, very reminiscent of NZ at the moment, and I liked the Inuit folklore bit. Considering what Inuit shamans can be, UNCLE is very lucky Nauja is a Christian.

Napoleon is definitely the smarter partner, this fic.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

NZ can't be this bleak and cold like this, really? Happy those elements stood out to you. Napoleon is playing it cool, since he already knows there's trouble on the horizon. IK went in blind so to speak..

Thanks for the great comment! Lots more to come, and definitely some twists ahead. "D

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

But, but...what about Illya? I'm very concerned. *bites fingernails*

Missile silo, eh? I bet they're using people as slave labor to get their project done on time.

Your OC's are always interesting.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Don't worry, IK will make an appearance. Just building up the tension. Remember all things in good time.
Thanks for the compliment on the OC's and for commenting.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

This is a very fine story, and this chapter does not disappoint. I'm anxious to know where our Russian is.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I was a little worried it might be dragging out but really it's following a natural progression while building the tension.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

An already great story is just getting better and better. My impatience is battling with my love of tension. I want to know what's going on with Illya, but the longer we wait the more excited I get :-) Thank you :-)

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Glad the tension is building. It's strange how we perceive our own stories as different from what others see. I was afraid it was dragging, myself. Comments really area a great barometer to tell a writer what's working and what isn't in a sip. Thanks so much for keeping up with the story, even though it's causing an internal struggle for you with your impatience and love of tension. Eeeek!

Illya will be making an appearance soon. It's tricky because what I have to show involving him already took place in the past, while Napoleon and Peter are there in real time. Yep, tricky all right. "D