"The Little Diomede Affair"~ Chapter 8 for the PicFic Tuesday Challenge 7/28

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Links to:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Part 2-Chapter 2 Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

The prompt:



It was an hour past sunset and the stars looked so close that it felt like you could reach out and grab them. Dancing in the sky, filling it with the pulsating ripples of greens, pinks and whites was the aurora borealis, appearing as brilliantly as Ivy had hoped it would.

Napoleon and Peter positioned themselves not far from the entrance to the silo, awaiting the promised distraction, and when it came, it was a doozie.

Approximately ten of the villagers had gathered, spreading blankets on the rocky ground still covered with a light dusting of snow. They built  fire in the center of the circle they’d formed, using precious bits of wood as and who knew what else for the fuel. Sitting down around it once the flames were burning high; they each set a drum in front of themselves and began to beat in time together.

As the village shaman Oki Nauja stood, speaking out in English; stating an affirmation of the native Inuit beliefs to the other villagers who had gathered as well.

“All of our customs come from life and turn towards life; we explain nothing, we believe nothing…

We fear da weather spirit of da earth that we must fight against to wrest our food from the land and sea. We fear Sila. We fear death and hunger in da cold snow huts.

We fear Takanakapsaluk, da great woman down at da bottom of da sea, who rules over all da beast of da sea. We fear sickness we meet  daily all around us; not death, but da suffering.

We fear evil spirits of life, those of da air, of da sea and earth, that can help the wicked shamans to harm their fellow men. We fear souls of dead human beings and of da animals we have killed.

Therefore it is that our fathers have inherited from their fathers all da old rules of life which are based on experience and wisdom of generations. We do not now know how, we cannot say why, but we keep da rules so we may live untroubled. Ignorant are we in spite of all our shamans, we fear everything unfamiliar. We fear what we see about us, and we fear all invisible things about us, all we have heard in our forefathers’ stories and myths.” *

“We call upon you good Tuurngait to help us in our hour of need. Help us drive away fear and da evil shamans. Send us a sign, send us your spirit lights that we might know you are with da people.”

Oki seated himself, and began drumming with the others and together they began to chant. As if on cue, three strange balls of light appeared in the sky pulsating and it seemed as if they were controlled, like they were waiting for something.

Napoleon focused on Ivy, waiting for her to act.  She and a few others moved farther away from the circle, while the rest of the village...including the half dozen guards who’d emerged through the silo door to watch the goings on.

There was a puff of smoke and a bright stream of sparks rose into the sky, exploding into a ball of light...fireworks! Ivy lit more and the effect combined with the aurora borealis was spectacular, not to mention the loud booms of the repeats as they went off. This was her promised distraction .

“We’re on Pete,” Solo whispered, hiking up the backpack that held their C-4, detonators and timers. Between what Illya had and they’d brought, there would be enough to blow the silo sky high. That could only happen once they verified there was no nuclear warhead.  If there was, it would have to be disarmed and removed before any detonations took place.

Solo crossed his fingers on that, hoping there was nothing to disarm.

Though he knew the mission took precedence, Kuryakin was on the back of Napoleon’s mind. He desperately wanted to search for his partner, but that was low on the to-do list, supposed to be, that is.

“I’m going to find you tovarisch,” He still vowed to himself in spite of Waverly’s warning not to do it.

They carefully opened the door and after quickly surveying the area,  the agents headed down a seemingly long flight of wooden stairs. Their guns were drawn, ready for anything that might come their way, though they hoped nothing would.

Everything was surprisingly quiet and as they went lower, the rocket...the very image Illya had sent them, came into view.

“I’ve got this,” Pete whispered. He pulled a small metal arrow with a line attached to it from his pack, fitting it into a miniature crossbow. He aimed at a wooden beam across from them and shot, hitting his mark.

After giving it a substantial tug as a test, he tied the other end off on the railing and climbed over. He moved slowly, hand over hand until he reached the top of the rocket, and grabbing hold; he hung onto it like a monkey to a tree.

He removed several small tools from his pocket and in minutes he had the nose cone removed….there was nothing there and he breathed a sigh of relief. Looking over the sides of the rocket he saw other no doors or panels...not a thing.

He returned to Solo and cut the rope, letting it fall out of view.

“I think we got here in time. There’s nothing in there at all.”

“Still we need to see if they have a nuclear device, let’s go,” Solo whispered.

They continued down the stairs, coming to the cavern where a generator and compressor were located. Two openings leading out from there.

“When in doubt young man, go right,” Napoleon said.

“I say we split up.”

“Okay you go left, I’ll go right. Just be careful Pete. Use your radio,” Solo tapped the bud nestled in his ear. “Plant your explosives so we can make quick work of this place. We can set smaller amounts of C-4 on the way out so we can collapse the tunnel around the rocket without affecting it. That’s a temporary fix, preventing its use until a cleanup team can be brought in.”

They headed down their respective tunnels, still seeing no one. The distraction Ivy had provided had apparently drawn out everyone, though they didn’t see Viktor Popsuy. At least the fireworks offered a bit of amusement to the dim-witted THRUSH guards, making them look like deer in headlights.

As he moved forward in the low light, following the string of bulbs strung on the roof of the tunnel, Napoleon paused.  There were voices up ahead... one of which he recognized. It was Illya!

He moved quickly, finally halting in front of a set of bars set across an opening to a smaller cave carved within the bedrock.

“Illya?” He whispered,” It’s Napoleon.”

There was no answer. Kuryakin was wary. How did a guard know the name Reuben had given to him? Were their captors listening in on their conversation?  And there was that name Napoleon again...why did it seem of significance to him? Illya’s head began to throb; too many questions.

A dark haired man, the one Illya had seen among the many images that had flashed in his head, stepped close to the bars.

“Stay back, I’m going to blow the lock.” Napoleon placed a small about of grey explosive putty into it, adding a short fuse; he turned his back while pulling and depressing the stem on his watch.

There was a hiss, followed seconds later by a smoky pop and the door swung free. Solo stuck his head inside. “Come on let’s get you out of here.”

“Who are you?” Illya asked, his eyes wide with confusion.

“Huh? It’s me Napoleon. Is there something wrong with your eyesight?”

“Nope, he just can’t remember a thing, not even who he is. How’d you know the name we gave him?” Reuben asked.

“His name is Illya. Illya Kuryakin and he’s my partner…”

“I do not know you,” the blond began rubbing his temples again.

Napoleon hesitated before coming to a sudden realization as he looked into his partner’s eyes. Illya’s face was bruised and bloodied, but he looked none the worse for wear compared to past captivites when he’d been brutally tortured.

“Oh crap, you took capsule B didn’t you?”

“What is that?”

“It’s a little blue pill that give you amnesia for seventy-two hours.”

Illya quirked his head to one side. These were all pieces of a puzzle that his mind was trying to help him put together. Was that why the number seventy-two meant something? This had to be real. How would this Napoleon have known of his memory loss?”

“Listen to me,” Solo leaned in close,” I’m going to say a word to you. It’s one that will bring back your memories.”

“How can a word do that?”

“Illya please there’s no time for explanations, it’s like a post hypnotic suggestion and...well, just listen.”

Solo cleaned his throat, whispering in a monotone voice.

”The word is dumpling.”

Kuryakin blinked several times, and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, like a man coming out of a deep sleep.

“Napoleon, I had the strangest dream. I dreamt I was in a cave with two men and a corpse…”

“Hey sunshine,” Marty called.” You are in a cave with two men and a corpse… or should I call you a bolvan again?

“No time for chit chat. We have to get out of here and fast,” Napoleon said. “We’re going to blow this place sky high.”

“Napoleon wait, you cannot set off explosives here. There is no nuclear device but there is something just as dangerous. THRUSH is planning to launch the rocket containing chemically altered spores. They will aim it at the heartland of the United States and infect the food crops, all of them, just not grains.  People will eat them, yet starve to death. The more of the infected foods they eat, the faster they will waste away,” Illya turned to the other men.

“Marty, Reuben, and your dead friend, you all were guinea pigs. They tried to give me the food as well, but something told me not to touch it. Napoleon if you blow up the lab, you risk the spores getting into the air; they will still contaminate the soil. One Spring returns they will infect the crops as they sprout. This place can only be cleansed with fire.”

“Then change of tactics partner.”

Solo touched his hand to his earpiece, and spoke into a small microphone attached to his jacket cuff.

“Pete, I’ve found Illya. I...we’ll need your help. Pete, come in?”

There was no answer.

“Napoleon, is that Galey?”

“Yes, he’s on this assignment with me.”

“He is a good man. Now, I can manage,” Kuryakin grunted as he helped Reuben to his feet; Solo did likewise with Marty. The weakened men could barely walk and when they got the to the stairs, the only way they could be gotten up was to be carried.

For Napoleon, it wasn’t a problem, but Illya wasn’t doing well after his beatings and the hit to his head, though it was something to which he wouldn’t admit.

He stopped to catch his breath, lowering Reuben to hang onto the railing.

“You okay?” Solo quietly called.

Kuryakin waved him on. “Go, I will be all right. Get Marty out and come back to help me with Reuben.” Napoleon shook his head as the Russian’s stubbornness, continuing up the stairs and finally out the door.

“I can make it on my own from here,” Marty said.” I’ll head for the shed, then to the Oki’s shop. Thanks. Good luck with what you boys have to do. Give ‘em hell.”

Solo watched a moment as Marty gingerly climbed the stone steps; freedom gave him the energy he needed, as did the cold fresh air.

Napoleon bounded down the stairs, taking hold of Reuben and did the same with him. “Come on Illya, or do I have to carry you too?”

“No, I am going to the lab to get things started and look for Peter. It is located through the other tunnel.

“Be careful tovarisch.”

“I promised Mr. Waverly I would and I give you my word as well,”  the Russian’s voice echoed as he disappeared down the stairs.

Kuryakin moved slowly but with purpose, and when he arrived at the bottom of the staircase he grabbed the two canisters of gasoline used for the generator.

The fuel inside the containers sloshed as he headed down the tunnel, and arriving in the chamber were the lab was located; he began pouring the gasoline, splashing the accelerant on the workbenches and most importantly the copious notes sitting there. There were two small metal boxes that had not been there when he first saw the lab.

Opening one with care, he discovered it was the payload for the rocket...the infected spores. He poured gasoline on in it and did the same with the second container.

There was no sign of Galey as Illya continued his work, and looking over his shoulder he saw Viktor Popsuy charging him from the shadows. Grabbing one of the containers; he slammed it into the man’s face.

Viktor went flying backwards, his face bloodied from the blow. Illya acting on pure adrenaline dove down at him. Grabbing him by the shirt and slamming his fist into Popsuy’s face.

“Where is Peter Galey?” Illya demanded.

Viktor spat blood at the agent. “You know saying in Russian... otkinut' kopyta. How they say in English...kick the bucket.”

“Chyort vas v ad!” (Damn you to hell!) Illya snarled. He drew back his fist to slam into the man, but Popsuy managed to grab the empty metal box and swung, hitting Illya in the head. The blow knocked him off Viktor, and still reeling from his previous head injury and nauseating after effects of capsule B, Illya blacked out for a moment. That was enough time for Popsuy to get away.

He took off down the tunnel, and Illya coming to his senses staggered after him. He ran straight into Napoleon, who saw fresh blood on his partner’s face.

“What happened?”

“Did you see Popsuy? He came down this tunnel.”

“No, there was no one. Illya where’s Pete?” His absence made Solo nervous.

“Popsuy said he was dead, but I did not see a body. Napoleon go look for him and when you have found him, set fire to that lab. I already poured gasoline there.”

“And you’re…”

“I am going after Victor Popsuy and end this once and for all. He is mine.” Kuryakin’s Russian accent came through.

Napoleon handed his partner his backup pistol. There was no arguing with him;  was a stubborn man and had made up his mind.

“Watch yourself, will you?”

“Though I want to tell you to stop being a mother hen, I will now. Illya’s voice echoed from the tunnel until it faded.

Adrenaline powered his efforts now as he charged up the long stairs. If there were a chopper out there, the only place Viktor could be heading was the helipad.

Illya burst out into the cold night air, seeing the villagers had gathered together and subdued the THRUSH guards who came out to watch the fireworks. That part of the plan Illya had been unaware of, and seeing the goons under control he dismissed them, continuing around the other side of the silo to the helipad.

There he saw Viktor making his way towards a helicopter. The blades weren’t rotating, so he’d need a minute to get the engine warmed up before taking off. That was all the time Kuryakin needed.

Viktor had no idea the agent was there as the helicopter blades started their rotation. He panicked upon seeing Illya, and the chopper began to slowly rise; his eyes filled with horror as Kuryakin ripped open the pilot side door, grabbing hold of him and pulling him out.

The two men went flying to the ground as they wrestled, with Popsuy grabbing a small rock and trying to smash it into Kuryakin’s face. Illya dodged the blow but the chopper, still operating out of control, flipped to its side.  He dove to safety and miraculously the debris from the shattering blades missed both him and Viktor. The helicopter rolled over, toppling into the ocean and exploded.

Illya lay there on the cold helipad, the wind knocked from of his sails.

Seeing Kuryakin out of it gave Viktor a rush. That spurred him on and the energy  he needed to climb upwards, but where he was going, he had no idea.

He cut through the village continuing to climb. Making his way towards the castle; he most likely hoped he could lose himself in the rock formations.

Kuryakin, out of breath and in pain, pulled himself up and gave chase, streaking past the village residents. Climbing up the dangerous incline; he Viktor towards the jagged rock outcroppings, heading towards the upper west side of the island.

Though he was injured, Illya was younger and in better shape than the other man, and soon caught up to him. He got off one shot after another without success, the bullets ricocheting off the rocks, but a moving target under these conditions was difficult.

Finally Kuryakin stood his ground as Viktor could go no farther and aiming Napoleon’s .38 caliber pistol at Popsuy; Illya tried to steady his trembling hand as but one bullet left.

The backdrop to his target was the shimmering lights of the aurora borealis, almost hypnotic in the way they moved. Illya tried to keep the shimmering lights from distracting him as he squeezed off the shot.

He missed...


Chapter 9

Comments

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Wow! Was that action packed! Looks like our guys have it all figured out. I like what you did with the fireworks. Against the background of the aurora borealis, that would have been an amazing show. I don't blame the guards from being distracted by it. I was lucky enough to have witnessed the aurora in it's full glory.

Hope they find Pete and he's OK.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I told you there'd be lots of action and twists, and of course the rescuing of IK. More to come! :D

So having seen the northern lights you know the imagery I was trying to convey. I hope that came across?

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

What an excellent twist about Thrush's plan. And gripping action.

The Oki scene would have been a great favourite in canon. What a pity S2 didn't end in the Bering Strait instead! The aurora borealis plus fireworks, too.

Here's hoping Peter Galey breaks the run of bad luck.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Oh my goodness! I'm out of breath after reading this chapter. I felt as though I were part of it. The plan THRUSH has is way more despicable than any nuclear bomb.

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Perfectly.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Cool! thank you!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! More surprises to come!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Wow what a compliment, being able to engage a reader like that. I'm glad everyone was patient waiting for the action to kick in. Yes I though this plan was more despicable, a more virulent upgrade from the virus they were using in the Neptune Affair.

[rhys-whittaker.livejournal.com]

I really like this story, and so far I think this is my favorite chapter because so much happens in it.

A wonderful depiction of imagery, esp. with the fireworks and the aurora borealis scene.

Suspense: will they find Illya, and in what condition. Really like how Napoleon vow's to locate his partner despite Mr. W's orders to get the job done first. Also, what is in that missile solo really? And OMG, has Peter really been killed??

Humor: that "dumpling" is what triggers Illya's memory. :-D

Action: when Illya chases after Victor. That whole sequence was great and exciting!

(I could go on..but I can sense you are already blushing and murmuring "Aw, shucks..."

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Believe it or not, no 'aw shucks' moment, more like YAY she really gets it. Glad you got the humor of the 'dumpling' reference. I think you were the only one who caught onto that.

I'd been promising everyone action and it arrived along with Ivy's distraction.

Thank you soooo much!