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section7mfuTitle: The Peaceful Meadows Affair, chapter eleven
Summary: Climax.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Chapter Eleven
Napoleon groaned softly as he regained his senses. He had endured so many headaches through the years because of being either gassed or hit over the head that he had lost count of the number—although he had the feeling that Illya’s number was even higher.
“Napoleon?” Illya mumbled next to him.
“Hmm?” Napoleon tried to open his eyes, but everything seemed to be dark. He closed and opened them again and discovered the same thing.
“Are you alright?”
“I’ve had better days,” Napoleon replied. “But I’ve had worse ones, too. How about you?”
“This definitely won’t be one of my favorite memories,” Illya said flatly.
“I don’t blame you in the least,” said Napoleon. He searched through his pocket for a penlight. Finding one, he clicked it on.
They seemed to be in a wooden room of small size, yet large enough for a balcony above. Ecks, Wye, and Jennifer were all on the floor nearby, slowly starting to stir as they awakened. Ecks, who seemed to revive quicker, slid over to Wye and shook him on the shoulder in concern. “Wye?”
“Someone tell me I was just dreamin’ that Mr. Pea is alive and took all of us prisoner,” Wye grumbled. He was facing away from Ecks, but slowly rolled onto his back to look up at the younger man.
“Unfortunately, to my memory it happened,” Napoleon answered.
“So where is he now?” Illya wondered, pulling himself to his knees.
“Right here, Mr. U.N.C.L.E. agent.” Harvey stepped into the glow from Napoleon’s penlight, accompanied by about half of the other Council members. Two of them were holding a struggling Marietta.
“Let me go!” she fumed, kicking one of them on the shin. He grunted in pain, but his grip did not loosen.
“How is it, anyway, that you know we’re with U.N.C.L.E.?” Napoleon asked, even as his eyes narrowed over the treatment of Marietta.
“After the organization broke up, your names and photographs were included among the information I managed to receive from one of the other agents who broke away,” Harvey said.
“So you knew all along who we were, just as you did Mr. Ecks and Mr. Wye,” Illya frowned.
“That’s right. I just wanted to give you enough rope to hang yourselves.” Harvey reached above him, pulling on a string to turn on the overhanging light.
Napoleon watched him. “If that’s the rope, I doubt it will hold us all,” he quipped.
“Funny.” Harvey snapped his fingers and the Council members threw Marietta at a stunned Jennifer. “You’re all going to die by firing squad. Of course, then we will report to the residents that you were all asked to move on.”
“Don’t you think they’ll be a little suspicious when one of your own Council members disappears?” Illya retorted.
“If anything, it should make them more terrified than ever,” Harvey gloated. “No one is above the rules at Peaceful Meadows, not even the Council themselves.”
Wye sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “So what was the point of this place anyway, Pea?” he grumped. “What would an ex-member of the old organization want with a gated community?”
“A gated community built on fear, Wye,” Harvey retorted, his tone filled with mocking as he spat the other man’s codename. “I’m finding everyone who can follow orders. Eventually I’m going to start building the ranks of our organization again, this time on American soil.”
“And you’re going to herd people into communities like this one,” Napoleon deduced.
“Where everyone who won’t obey will be killed off and not just told to ‘move on’,” Harvey sneered.
Jennifer screamed in outrage. “Is my brother dead then?!”
“You’ll find out soon.” Harvey nodded to the other Council members, who spread out and pointed their guns at the small group. “Stand up, unless you want to die on the ground.”
“What sort of weapons are these?” Illya demanded as he rose. His mind was working, wondering how many of his secret gadgets had been left alone. He already knew his gun was gone, but perhaps these people didn’t know everything U.N.C.L.E. agents carried with them.
Wye, however, tensed. “I can answer that,” he said. “It looks like a prototype that our organization was developing shortly before you brought in that ringer to play Raymond.”
Harvey gave a sharp nod. “You are right,” he said with mock solemnity. Then he smirked. “These guns are special. They don’t fire bullets and are quite silent and clean, but they kill all the same.”
“And what do they fire?” Napoleon asked.
“A highly lethal beam of energy that stops the heart. Our scientists were at work on them for years. When I got away, I took the plans with me and had them perfected at last.” Harvey smiled.
“You’ll never get away with this!” Jennifer snarled. “Maybe you can say that everyone else was told to move on, but I was never a resident here. And I made sure to tell someone on the outside where I was going, just in case I didn’t come back. They’ll come looking for me, and they’ll bring the authorities!”
“U.N.C.L.E. will come looking too,” Napoleon said. “Once we don’t report in, Mr. Waverly will know something’s wrong.”
“He won’t listen to a flimsy excuse about us being told to move on,” Illya agreed in disgust.
“They’ll find only an empty community,” Harvey replied. “Tonight we’ll weed out whoever will remain loyal to us and move to another piece of property I own. Now, I think this conversation has gone on long enough.” He raised his hand. “I could get rid of you one by one, but that would be too time-consuming and allow for too much probability that some of you would overpower us, so you’re all going together. Do you like that?”
“I’d like it better if we weren’t going at all,” Napoleon said. He locked eyes with Illya, who sent him the silent message that he had found something still on his person to use.
“It’s non-negotiable at this point.” Harvey looked to Ecks and Wye with a sneer. “I’ll take particular pleasure in eliminating the two of you. Filthy traitors! I only wish Zed were still alive so I could get rid of him as well.”
“You know what I think?” Wye shot back. He was clearly stalling for time; he had his hands behind his back while Ecks casually ran his hands over his trenchcoat.
“I don’t especially care what you think,” Harvey said boredly.
Wye sneered at him. “I say this is all about guilt for you.”
“Guilt?!” Harvey roared.
“Yeah. You had a mission to find all the traitors and you missed us, right under your nose. That’s got to smart.”
“And to add insult to injury, you thought we were both dead and here we came waltzing back into your life,” Ecks grinned. He tried to casually slip something into Wye’s hands. Wye closed one hand around it, but Harvey still caught the movement.
“Hey, what are you two doing there?!” he snapped.
“We’re holdin’ hands,” Wye quipped. “We’ve known each other a long time; probably longer than even Solo and Kuryakin here. So we’re sayin’ goodbye.”
Napoleon had to be slightly amused at Wye’s spunk and quick wit.
“Part of me really wishes I could believe you,” Harvey retorted. “I’ll see you all in Hell!”
Without warning the guns fired. Neither Harvey nor the Council wanted to give anyone a chance to retaliate.
But the distraction from Ecks and Wye had been enough. Illya leaped out of the way just in time, throwing a small smoke bomb in the Council’s general direction. Napoleon and the rest dove away too, and Ecks and Wye each threw strange, mechanized discs at the nearest guns. They locked on and the weapons stopped mid-fire.
“Jamming devices,” Wye smirked.
Illya had to regard him in approval. “Let’s get out of here,” he directed, while their enemies coughed and choked on the smoke.
That proved easier said than done. As they ran desperately for the door behind the Council, hoping to get past without being seen, the previously absent Council members rushed onto the balcony with more guns. At the same time, some of those on the ground floor charged into the smoke, hoping to make contact with any of the people they were trying to kill.
Napoleon managed to slip to the side and grab onto Marietta and Jennifer in all the commotion. “Do you know what’s beyond this room?” he asked Marietta.
“Yes,” she nodded. “We’re in a storage room behind the front office.”
“Good. You two get out of here and find a place to hide,” Napoleon instructed. “We’ll hold them off.”
Jennifer’s eyes flashed. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “We’re going to make the residents wise up to what’s going on in this place. All of them banded together would be more than a match for this Council.” She looked to Marietta. “Are you with me?”
Marietta nodded, her hesitancy now gone. “Let’s do it!”
Before Napoleon could say a word, they vanished through the door.
And then someone was rushing at him through the smoke and he had no choice but to quickly karate-chop the assailant into unconsciousness.
The smoke was mostly cleared by now, and in the chaos of angry Council members fighting on the ground and angry Council members firing from above, there was little place to hide. Napoleon caught sight of Illya flipping someone over his shoulder and stealing his weapon at the same time. Liking that idea, Napoleon reached for the abandoned gun on the floor next to the stunned Councilman. It surely wouldn’t be that hard to figure out how to use it.
It wasn’t, and when one of them aimed at Napoleon, he aimed back and sent the gun spinning out of her hand.
Wye cackled. “Good show!” he congratulated. He already had one of the guns, and took aim at two snipers on the balcony. One fell over the side, crashing to the floor and taking out another one when he landed on top of the other.
Smirking, Ecks fired at another. “I prefer a knife,” he said, “but I’ll fight with what I have to.”
Napoleon took a step back, surveying the scene. It was even more of a dangerous shootout than it might have been in other circumstances, since the room was quite bare and there was nothing to hide behind.
“For a storage room, they certainly pack light,” he remarked, shooting another who was taking aim at him.
“Perhaps the boxes are invisible,” Illya said sarcastically, “as the missing people seem to be.”
The enemy numbers were swiftly dwindling. It was only when the shots stopped coming and the group looked at the people strewn around them that they suddenly realized Harvey was absent.
“Oh no,” Illya said in frustration. “Has he gotten away, leaving his lackeys to do his dirty work and die for the cause?”
“I’m not sure I’d put anything past him,” Wye growled, turning over another body with his shoe. “This one’s not him either.”
“Solo!”
Napoleon spun around in shock at the abrupt warning, just in time to see Ecks fire at one last shooter on the balcony—a shooter aimed at Napoleon. “Harvey,” Napoleon realized.
As he fell, his eyes filled with hatred, Harvey still struggled to fire a final shot. It hit its mark—Ecks’ eyes widened in pain as the white beam caught him in the chest. He collapsed to the floor, while Harvey tumbled over the balcony at the same time.
Wye wasn’t having any of it. He ran over, falling to his knees next to the lifeless form. “Ecks! Ecks, you have to get up. Do you hear me?! You have to wake up!” He turned Ecks gently onto his back, pushing the edges of the coat aside and unbuttoning the shirt before leaning down and trying to find a heartbeat. Apparently finding nothing, Wye was still undeterred. “You are not dying on me!” he cried, immediately starting CPR.
Napoleon and Illya came over, stunned and somewhat disbelieving of what had just happened. “He saved my life,” Napoleon said, badly shaken.
Illya nodded. “It could easily be you lying on the floor with me trying to revive you,” he said, troubled. He walked over to the gun Ecks had used, picking it up. “I wonder . . .”
“What is it?” Napoleon asked in surprise.
“I don’t know exactly how this gun works, but if the idea is that the beam is harsh enough and strong enough to stop the heart, I wonder if there’s any chance that putting it in reverse could have the opposite effect,” Illya said. He looked it over, trying to absorb everything about it that he could in a long, hard stare.
“You mean like jump-starter cables on a car battery?” Napoleon blinked. “It’s risky.”
“What more damage could it do to him than what it’s already done?” Illya retorted. He sat down on the floor, looking for a way to open the gun up.
Wye was pausing in his frantic attempts to revive his friend in order to search for any hint of a pulse. Finding nothing, he looked over at Harvey’s broken body and let loose with a stream of bitter, hateful curses and oaths.
“You’ll see us in Hell, eh?” he snarled. “I don’t know if that’s where Ecks would go, but you must be there now, Pea.” He looked at Ecks’ ashen face. “And that’s where you’ve put me.” He went back to the CPR, still desperate to not give up.
Napoleon came and knelt beside them. “Let me try,” he implored.
Wye jerked, giving him an unreadable look.
“He’s dead because he saved me,” Napoleon said. “I want to help in trying to bring him back.”
Wye considered that and finally moved aside. “It might be better for someone younger to try for a while anyway,” he said gruffly.
Napoleon nodded his thanks and took over. It was unlikely anything could really be done, he knew, but he wouldn’t feel right not to at least try.
How strange, to be so worried about the life of a former enemy agent.
Then again, what about this entire situation wasn’t strange?
“I think I’ve got it!” Illya hurried over, gun in hand.
Again Wye looked up with a start. “Got what?” he demanded.
“I took the gun apart and rewired its inner workings,” Illya told him. “I believe I may have put it in reverse.”
“May have,” Wye snorted. “None of us even know what the bloody thing is! What makes you think you know how to set it in reverse, if that’s even possible to begin with?”
“I know technology,” Illya said. “He saved Napoleon; I owe him whatever I can do to save him. Please let me try. The worst that can happen is nothing.”
“The worst that can happen is that you might damage his poor heart further,” Wye growled. “Then we really couldn’t get him back.”
Napoleon stopped working and felt for a pulse. “If his heart’s beating, it can’t be detected without machines,” he said gravely.
Finally Wye bowed his head in resignation. “Alright. Go on then; do your best. God knows I’ve tried what I can.”
Hoping that it truly wasn’t an impossible task, Illya bent over Ecks’ body and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened except that Ecks jerked in pain, as though hit by electricity. Then he fell still, the movement involuntary.
Wye took the limp hand, feeling in desperation for a pulse. “Ecks?” he pleaded. “Oh come on, you’re not going to leave me all alone, are you?”
He stiffened when the fingers moved, weakly gripping at his hand. “Wye?” Ecks turned, looking up at him in bewilderment. “What happened, Wye? Am I hurt?” He grimaced. “I remember something slamming into me. . . . Wait . . . I was shot, wasn’t I?!” His eyes widened in shock and alarm. “I was shot!”
“Now, hold on, Duck,” Wye soothed. “Yeah, you were shot, but you’re going to be alright. We’ll all see to that. Kuryakin here, he saved your life.”
“Kuryakin?” Ecks looked to Illya in disbelief.
“You saved Napoleon,” Illya replied, straightening up. “I owed you for that.”
Ecks stared at him, not even sure what to say or if he was really processing things right.
“Thank you,” Wye said in all sincerity. “Ecks means the world to me. And he’s got a lot of living to do yet.”
“Yes,” Ecks said, still a bit dazed. “Thank you . . . Kuryakin. I never would have thought . . .”
“That someone who tried to kill you in the past would save you now?” Illya interrupted, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “The circumstances are different now. You deserved another chance.”
Napoleon sidled up to him. “You are a clever Russian,” he said, both impressed and moved.
“It needed to be done,” Illya said brusquely. “And I’ve been doing some thinking about that code I found. I believe I know where the missing people are.”
Napoleon raised an amazed eyebrow. “Then lead on.”
Summary: Climax.
Chapter Eleven
Napoleon groaned softly as he regained his senses. He had endured so many headaches through the years because of being either gassed or hit over the head that he had lost count of the number—although he had the feeling that Illya’s number was even higher.
“Napoleon?” Illya mumbled next to him.
“Hmm?” Napoleon tried to open his eyes, but everything seemed to be dark. He closed and opened them again and discovered the same thing.
“Are you alright?”
“I’ve had better days,” Napoleon replied. “But I’ve had worse ones, too. How about you?”
“This definitely won’t be one of my favorite memories,” Illya said flatly.
“I don’t blame you in the least,” said Napoleon. He searched through his pocket for a penlight. Finding one, he clicked it on.
They seemed to be in a wooden room of small size, yet large enough for a balcony above. Ecks, Wye, and Jennifer were all on the floor nearby, slowly starting to stir as they awakened. Ecks, who seemed to revive quicker, slid over to Wye and shook him on the shoulder in concern. “Wye?”
“Someone tell me I was just dreamin’ that Mr. Pea is alive and took all of us prisoner,” Wye grumbled. He was facing away from Ecks, but slowly rolled onto his back to look up at the younger man.
“Unfortunately, to my memory it happened,” Napoleon answered.
“So where is he now?” Illya wondered, pulling himself to his knees.
“Right here, Mr. U.N.C.L.E. agent.” Harvey stepped into the glow from Napoleon’s penlight, accompanied by about half of the other Council members. Two of them were holding a struggling Marietta.
“Let me go!” she fumed, kicking one of them on the shin. He grunted in pain, but his grip did not loosen.
“How is it, anyway, that you know we’re with U.N.C.L.E.?” Napoleon asked, even as his eyes narrowed over the treatment of Marietta.
“After the organization broke up, your names and photographs were included among the information I managed to receive from one of the other agents who broke away,” Harvey said.
“So you knew all along who we were, just as you did Mr. Ecks and Mr. Wye,” Illya frowned.
“That’s right. I just wanted to give you enough rope to hang yourselves.” Harvey reached above him, pulling on a string to turn on the overhanging light.
Napoleon watched him. “If that’s the rope, I doubt it will hold us all,” he quipped.
“Funny.” Harvey snapped his fingers and the Council members threw Marietta at a stunned Jennifer. “You’re all going to die by firing squad. Of course, then we will report to the residents that you were all asked to move on.”
“Don’t you think they’ll be a little suspicious when one of your own Council members disappears?” Illya retorted.
“If anything, it should make them more terrified than ever,” Harvey gloated. “No one is above the rules at Peaceful Meadows, not even the Council themselves.”
Wye sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. “So what was the point of this place anyway, Pea?” he grumped. “What would an ex-member of the old organization want with a gated community?”
“A gated community built on fear, Wye,” Harvey retorted, his tone filled with mocking as he spat the other man’s codename. “I’m finding everyone who can follow orders. Eventually I’m going to start building the ranks of our organization again, this time on American soil.”
“And you’re going to herd people into communities like this one,” Napoleon deduced.
“Where everyone who won’t obey will be killed off and not just told to ‘move on’,” Harvey sneered.
Jennifer screamed in outrage. “Is my brother dead then?!”
“You’ll find out soon.” Harvey nodded to the other Council members, who spread out and pointed their guns at the small group. “Stand up, unless you want to die on the ground.”
“What sort of weapons are these?” Illya demanded as he rose. His mind was working, wondering how many of his secret gadgets had been left alone. He already knew his gun was gone, but perhaps these people didn’t know everything U.N.C.L.E. agents carried with them.
Wye, however, tensed. “I can answer that,” he said. “It looks like a prototype that our organization was developing shortly before you brought in that ringer to play Raymond.”
Harvey gave a sharp nod. “You are right,” he said with mock solemnity. Then he smirked. “These guns are special. They don’t fire bullets and are quite silent and clean, but they kill all the same.”
“And what do they fire?” Napoleon asked.
“A highly lethal beam of energy that stops the heart. Our scientists were at work on them for years. When I got away, I took the plans with me and had them perfected at last.” Harvey smiled.
“You’ll never get away with this!” Jennifer snarled. “Maybe you can say that everyone else was told to move on, but I was never a resident here. And I made sure to tell someone on the outside where I was going, just in case I didn’t come back. They’ll come looking for me, and they’ll bring the authorities!”
“U.N.C.L.E. will come looking too,” Napoleon said. “Once we don’t report in, Mr. Waverly will know something’s wrong.”
“He won’t listen to a flimsy excuse about us being told to move on,” Illya agreed in disgust.
“They’ll find only an empty community,” Harvey replied. “Tonight we’ll weed out whoever will remain loyal to us and move to another piece of property I own. Now, I think this conversation has gone on long enough.” He raised his hand. “I could get rid of you one by one, but that would be too time-consuming and allow for too much probability that some of you would overpower us, so you’re all going together. Do you like that?”
“I’d like it better if we weren’t going at all,” Napoleon said. He locked eyes with Illya, who sent him the silent message that he had found something still on his person to use.
“It’s non-negotiable at this point.” Harvey looked to Ecks and Wye with a sneer. “I’ll take particular pleasure in eliminating the two of you. Filthy traitors! I only wish Zed were still alive so I could get rid of him as well.”
“You know what I think?” Wye shot back. He was clearly stalling for time; he had his hands behind his back while Ecks casually ran his hands over his trenchcoat.
“I don’t especially care what you think,” Harvey said boredly.
Wye sneered at him. “I say this is all about guilt for you.”
“Guilt?!” Harvey roared.
“Yeah. You had a mission to find all the traitors and you missed us, right under your nose. That’s got to smart.”
“And to add insult to injury, you thought we were both dead and here we came waltzing back into your life,” Ecks grinned. He tried to casually slip something into Wye’s hands. Wye closed one hand around it, but Harvey still caught the movement.
“Hey, what are you two doing there?!” he snapped.
“We’re holdin’ hands,” Wye quipped. “We’ve known each other a long time; probably longer than even Solo and Kuryakin here. So we’re sayin’ goodbye.”
Napoleon had to be slightly amused at Wye’s spunk and quick wit.
“Part of me really wishes I could believe you,” Harvey retorted. “I’ll see you all in Hell!”
Without warning the guns fired. Neither Harvey nor the Council wanted to give anyone a chance to retaliate.
But the distraction from Ecks and Wye had been enough. Illya leaped out of the way just in time, throwing a small smoke bomb in the Council’s general direction. Napoleon and the rest dove away too, and Ecks and Wye each threw strange, mechanized discs at the nearest guns. They locked on and the weapons stopped mid-fire.
“Jamming devices,” Wye smirked.
Illya had to regard him in approval. “Let’s get out of here,” he directed, while their enemies coughed and choked on the smoke.
That proved easier said than done. As they ran desperately for the door behind the Council, hoping to get past without being seen, the previously absent Council members rushed onto the balcony with more guns. At the same time, some of those on the ground floor charged into the smoke, hoping to make contact with any of the people they were trying to kill.
Napoleon managed to slip to the side and grab onto Marietta and Jennifer in all the commotion. “Do you know what’s beyond this room?” he asked Marietta.
“Yes,” she nodded. “We’re in a storage room behind the front office.”
“Good. You two get out of here and find a place to hide,” Napoleon instructed. “We’ll hold them off.”
Jennifer’s eyes flashed. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “We’re going to make the residents wise up to what’s going on in this place. All of them banded together would be more than a match for this Council.” She looked to Marietta. “Are you with me?”
Marietta nodded, her hesitancy now gone. “Let’s do it!”
Before Napoleon could say a word, they vanished through the door.
And then someone was rushing at him through the smoke and he had no choice but to quickly karate-chop the assailant into unconsciousness.
The smoke was mostly cleared by now, and in the chaos of angry Council members fighting on the ground and angry Council members firing from above, there was little place to hide. Napoleon caught sight of Illya flipping someone over his shoulder and stealing his weapon at the same time. Liking that idea, Napoleon reached for the abandoned gun on the floor next to the stunned Councilman. It surely wouldn’t be that hard to figure out how to use it.
It wasn’t, and when one of them aimed at Napoleon, he aimed back and sent the gun spinning out of her hand.
Wye cackled. “Good show!” he congratulated. He already had one of the guns, and took aim at two snipers on the balcony. One fell over the side, crashing to the floor and taking out another one when he landed on top of the other.
Smirking, Ecks fired at another. “I prefer a knife,” he said, “but I’ll fight with what I have to.”
Napoleon took a step back, surveying the scene. It was even more of a dangerous shootout than it might have been in other circumstances, since the room was quite bare and there was nothing to hide behind.
“For a storage room, they certainly pack light,” he remarked, shooting another who was taking aim at him.
“Perhaps the boxes are invisible,” Illya said sarcastically, “as the missing people seem to be.”
The enemy numbers were swiftly dwindling. It was only when the shots stopped coming and the group looked at the people strewn around them that they suddenly realized Harvey was absent.
“Oh no,” Illya said in frustration. “Has he gotten away, leaving his lackeys to do his dirty work and die for the cause?”
“I’m not sure I’d put anything past him,” Wye growled, turning over another body with his shoe. “This one’s not him either.”
“Solo!”
Napoleon spun around in shock at the abrupt warning, just in time to see Ecks fire at one last shooter on the balcony—a shooter aimed at Napoleon. “Harvey,” Napoleon realized.
As he fell, his eyes filled with hatred, Harvey still struggled to fire a final shot. It hit its mark—Ecks’ eyes widened in pain as the white beam caught him in the chest. He collapsed to the floor, while Harvey tumbled over the balcony at the same time.
Wye wasn’t having any of it. He ran over, falling to his knees next to the lifeless form. “Ecks! Ecks, you have to get up. Do you hear me?! You have to wake up!” He turned Ecks gently onto his back, pushing the edges of the coat aside and unbuttoning the shirt before leaning down and trying to find a heartbeat. Apparently finding nothing, Wye was still undeterred. “You are not dying on me!” he cried, immediately starting CPR.
Napoleon and Illya came over, stunned and somewhat disbelieving of what had just happened. “He saved my life,” Napoleon said, badly shaken.
Illya nodded. “It could easily be you lying on the floor with me trying to revive you,” he said, troubled. He walked over to the gun Ecks had used, picking it up. “I wonder . . .”
“What is it?” Napoleon asked in surprise.
“I don’t know exactly how this gun works, but if the idea is that the beam is harsh enough and strong enough to stop the heart, I wonder if there’s any chance that putting it in reverse could have the opposite effect,” Illya said. He looked it over, trying to absorb everything about it that he could in a long, hard stare.
“You mean like jump-starter cables on a car battery?” Napoleon blinked. “It’s risky.”
“What more damage could it do to him than what it’s already done?” Illya retorted. He sat down on the floor, looking for a way to open the gun up.
Wye was pausing in his frantic attempts to revive his friend in order to search for any hint of a pulse. Finding nothing, he looked over at Harvey’s broken body and let loose with a stream of bitter, hateful curses and oaths.
“You’ll see us in Hell, eh?” he snarled. “I don’t know if that’s where Ecks would go, but you must be there now, Pea.” He looked at Ecks’ ashen face. “And that’s where you’ve put me.” He went back to the CPR, still desperate to not give up.
Napoleon came and knelt beside them. “Let me try,” he implored.
Wye jerked, giving him an unreadable look.
“He’s dead because he saved me,” Napoleon said. “I want to help in trying to bring him back.”
Wye considered that and finally moved aside. “It might be better for someone younger to try for a while anyway,” he said gruffly.
Napoleon nodded his thanks and took over. It was unlikely anything could really be done, he knew, but he wouldn’t feel right not to at least try.
How strange, to be so worried about the life of a former enemy agent.
Then again, what about this entire situation wasn’t strange?
“I think I’ve got it!” Illya hurried over, gun in hand.
Again Wye looked up with a start. “Got what?” he demanded.
“I took the gun apart and rewired its inner workings,” Illya told him. “I believe I may have put it in reverse.”
“May have,” Wye snorted. “None of us even know what the bloody thing is! What makes you think you know how to set it in reverse, if that’s even possible to begin with?”
“I know technology,” Illya said. “He saved Napoleon; I owe him whatever I can do to save him. Please let me try. The worst that can happen is nothing.”
“The worst that can happen is that you might damage his poor heart further,” Wye growled. “Then we really couldn’t get him back.”
Napoleon stopped working and felt for a pulse. “If his heart’s beating, it can’t be detected without machines,” he said gravely.
Finally Wye bowed his head in resignation. “Alright. Go on then; do your best. God knows I’ve tried what I can.”
Hoping that it truly wasn’t an impossible task, Illya bent over Ecks’ body and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened except that Ecks jerked in pain, as though hit by electricity. Then he fell still, the movement involuntary.
Wye took the limp hand, feeling in desperation for a pulse. “Ecks?” he pleaded. “Oh come on, you’re not going to leave me all alone, are you?”
He stiffened when the fingers moved, weakly gripping at his hand. “Wye?” Ecks turned, looking up at him in bewilderment. “What happened, Wye? Am I hurt?” He grimaced. “I remember something slamming into me. . . . Wait . . . I was shot, wasn’t I?!” His eyes widened in shock and alarm. “I was shot!”
“Now, hold on, Duck,” Wye soothed. “Yeah, you were shot, but you’re going to be alright. We’ll all see to that. Kuryakin here, he saved your life.”
“Kuryakin?” Ecks looked to Illya in disbelief.
“You saved Napoleon,” Illya replied, straightening up. “I owed you for that.”
Ecks stared at him, not even sure what to say or if he was really processing things right.
“Thank you,” Wye said in all sincerity. “Ecks means the world to me. And he’s got a lot of living to do yet.”
“Yes,” Ecks said, still a bit dazed. “Thank you . . . Kuryakin. I never would have thought . . .”
“That someone who tried to kill you in the past would save you now?” Illya interrupted, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “The circumstances are different now. You deserved another chance.”
Napoleon sidled up to him. “You are a clever Russian,” he said, both impressed and moved.
“It needed to be done,” Illya said brusquely. “And I’ve been doing some thinking about that code I found. I believe I know where the missing people are.”
Napoleon raised an amazed eyebrow. “Then lead on.”
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