"The Little Diomede Affair" ~ Chapter 9, for Picfic Tuesday August 4th

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Links to:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Part 2-Chapter 2 Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

The prompt:

Illya was shocked. How could he have missed, especially standing this close to his target? Popsuy hadn't moved. Maybe his aim was off because of his head injury, though his vision seemed fine?

Suddenly there was a bright light that streamed down on Viktor, as if someone had turned on a spot light. It was so intense that it was nearly blinding, yet undulating greens of the aurora were still clearly visible.

Viktor covered his eyes with his arms, startled by the unexpected brightness.  He stepped backwards once, then again and screamed as he teetered on the edge of the dangerous precipice of which Ivy had warned Illya.

His arms aeroplaned as he went over but his howling came to an abrupt stop. Illya had no doubt the man was dead.

This was the spot where legend said a woman who climbed up there one day carrying her baby. When she slipped on loose rocks, she fell and was cut in half by the rocks below.

The ball of light in the sky diminished in its intensity, allowing Kuryakin to peer over the edge and see the body of Viktor Popsy had indeed been cut to pieces. He tried to think of something pithy to say as was his habit it such situations, but since Napoleon wasn’t present, what was the point?

Illya carefully made his way back down; the light above him moving slowly above him as if guiding his way across the treacherous rocks.

Once he reached his partner and the others, it hovered a few more seconds before moving at an unbelievable speed, joining the two other balls of light now suspended over the silo; the three of them forming a triad.

Smoke coming up through the open silo door was still billowing upwards making it easier to see because of their light. The whole scene was surreal.

To Kuryakin’s relief, standing there with Solo and Ivy was none other than Peter Galey. Popsuy had lied and he was grateful he’d decided not to trust the man at his word, otherwise the young agent might have been burned to death.

Napoleon found Peter trussed up in another tunnel leading out of the lab, and there the two men discovered more containers of the spores.  He and Galey doused them all with the remainder of the gasoline, and making it a controlled burn; they knocked down some of the wooden supports, moving them into the lab, creating a break and cutting off the flames from spreading into the cavern where the rocket and stairs were located.

“Where’s Viktor?” Solo asked.

“He took a trip, and just went all to pieces over it,” Illya got to make his pithy remark after all.  It was cryptic to his partner, but just as Napoleon was going to ask what Illya meant, everyone’s attention was drawn back to the sky.

They looked up at the balls of light still hovering in formation as they increased in brightness. The lights...spirit lights Oki again called them, began to rise higher into the air and were suddenly gone in the blink of an eye.

“So how are we going to write that up in our report?” Illya asked.

“Good question,” Napoleon shook his head, not knowing what to believe...UFO’s, spirits; it was all a bit bizarre, though there was no arguing those lights had helped rid the island of THRUSH.

Ivy stepped over to Kuryakin, latching onto his arm and giving him a peck on the cheek.

Napoleon leaned over, whispering to him. “You’re blushing…”

“Nonsense, it is merely the light of the aurora.” Illya tried to maintain his dignity.

“Yeah right,” he snickered. “Ivy, I’d like you to officially meet my partner, Mr. Illya Kuryakin.”

“Pleased to meet you Illya. See, you were a good omen after all, “she smiled. “Now let’s get you home and take care of your injuries ”

The four of them headed back to Ivy’s house. Marty and Reuben were being looked after by Oki and his wife at their place above the store. What they needed was real food, warmth and a stress free environment.

All seemed right with the world...for the moment.

Once Illya’s injuries had been seen to by the tender ministrations of Ivy, he was banished to his bed and was sound asleep even before Ivy brought him his food.  The others were fed, though she apologized as it was only vegetable soup with bread;  to the tired and hungry UNCLE agents, it hit the spot.

“Best tasting soup I’ve ever had,” Napoleon said.

“You’re just saying that,” she waved him off.

They were all eventually quiet while eating, as no one was quite ready to talk about what had happened. Weariness hit them all like a ton of bricks had been lain on their shoulders.

With Illya tucked safely into bed upstairs, Napoleon was ready to fall asleep himself but before he could to that, he contacted Mr. Waverly, filling him in great detail of the success of their mission.

“Sir is there any way we could get out of here by a more direct route. Mr. Kuryakin does need some medical attention.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Solo that you will be there in Diomede indefinitely. There is a very large and dangersous storm coming down from the north and should arrive at your location during the night. Once the weather improves we will come up with a plan to extricate you all.  I must say, this was a job well done indeed. Give Mr. Kuryakin my best for a speedy recovery.”

“Yes sir, thank you. I will. Solo out. Well that settles that huh Pete?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t mind a few snow days to recuperate.” He rubbed the back of his head where Popsuy had hit him.

“Ivy will you be able to put us up a little longer? We wouldn’t want to impose?”

“Napoleon it’ll be my pleasure. You all helped free us from those people. I heard Oki calling them bad shamans, and maybe that’s what they were in a way, looking to bring evil to the world.”

She got out some extra blankets, with Peter taking the sofa, and Napoleon using Ivy’s late brother’s bedroll, slept on the floor in the room with Illya.

“I’m going to turn up the heaters, as this storm sounds like a serious one. I have plenty of kerosene on hand. If you wake up during the night, and have to use the ummm, toilet. I recommend the bucket in the back room. Wouldn’t want you falling out in the dark and snow to get to the outhouse,” she tried not to chuckle.”Though my brother used to just pee out the door when the weather turned really bad, if you know what I mean.”

Napoleon maintained his dignity, and simply nodded.

“The electric kettle’s on the counter if you decide you want some tea, and there’s shortbread in the cabinet. Help yourselves. I don’t know about you but all this has exhausted me. I’m off for a rendezvous with my pillow. Good night and sleep well.”

She stepped closer, giving each of them a kiss on the cheek before she headed upstairs to bed.

As promised, a hellacious storm arrived after midnight. There was not a chance anything would be flying or out on the water for the next day or two. The three agents were indeed stuck there in Diomede for the duration.

The next morning Ivy cooked them all a hearty breakfast, and though Illya protested, he was served his meal in bed. Remembering his appetite, Ivy  made him scrambled eggs, though they were powdered, a flat quick bread similar to Scottish bannock, smoked halibut filets in a cream sauce, and a hot bowl of oatmeal with the sultanas he liked, along with his tea.

“Ivy you are spoiling me,” he was unable to smile, nor chew that well, so his breakfast was cut up into very tiny morsels. The bread he softened with some reconstituted powdered milk. As long as he didn’t get up, his dizziness seemed to abate, if he did get up it kicked in along with nausea.

He wasn’t about to waist all this fine food Ivy had prepared for him by being sick...though she did provide a bucket for him bedside, just in case.

Downstairs Napoleon and Peter had finished their breakfast, both opting for a second cup of coffee to ward off the chill in the air. There wouldn’t be much to do while being house bound and they’d resigned themselves to that fact.  Neither man was accustomed to being completely inactive; even when on vacation, an agent was always an agent.

Ivy’s home was still not that warm in spite of the heaters going full blast. It seemed the kitchen was the coziest room and it was there they opted to remain, helping her to clean up.

“Don’t let us keep you from going about your routine,” Napoleon said. “Is there anything with which we could help you?”

“As a matter of fact there is,” she led them to the living room and pulled out her basket of yarns, sitting both men on the sofa, she instructed them. ”Hold your hands this far apart, like this.”She demonstrated how she wanted them held.

She untwisted a skein of wool and wrapped it around Napoleon's hands, then another around Peter’s.

“I remember this,” Pete said.” My babushka used to make me do this when I was a little boy. You’re going to wind the yarn into a ball, right?”

“That’s exactly right, “ she grinned. “I’m sorry this isn’t very exciting for fellows like you.”

“I guess it’s a nice change for us to not be moving…”Pete said.

“Or to not have to be someplace halfway around the world the next day,” Napoleon added.

“You really have to do that?”

“As Illya likes to say...’We go where we are told and do as we are told,” Napoleon smiled. “Whatever it takes to save the world.”

“Well you saved my little part of it and I’ll be forever grateful.”

“Ivy,” Napoleon paused.”What did you make of those lights. They seemed to turn up at the right time, just when all the singing was going on. Don’t you find it strange they seemed to target Viktor Popsuy, the chanting circle and the silo?”

“Napoleon, I was raised in two worlds, my mother was Inuit and my dad was Russian. I went to the mainland to go to school and to become a teacher so I could come back here and help my people. Part of me tells me to believe the legends my mother and the others told me all my life. The realist in me tells me the lights have to be some sort of natural phenomenon like the northern lights.”

“I understand your dilemma. We have one too as we have to file a report on this whole affair and I’m not quite sure what to say about those lights. Back home we call them UFOs but I’m not sure how well that will go over with my boss.”

“Unidentified flying objects? Wow, I never thought of them as that...like spaceships, you mean?”

“Well I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, but there seemed to be a deliberate behavior on their part.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she quirked her head.” Now sit still and let me finish rolling this wool.”

When they were done, Ivy, having pity on them, turned on her radio. She fussed with the dial, catching the weather broadcast via shortwave from the Air Force base just outside of Nome.

The report wasn’t good. It was going to snow straight for the next three days. Sometimes blizzard conditions, with heavy snow accumulation and drifting.

She fussed with the dial again, finally finding some music.

“Moon river, wider than a mile,I'm crossing you in style some day.”

“Oh I just love this song!”

“Well then may I have this dance,”Napoleon offered her his hand. She took it and let him waltz her around the room.

“Oh dream maker, you heart breaker, Wherever you're goin, I'm goin your way. Two drifters off to see the world,There's such a lot of world to see,We're after the same rainbow's end,Waiting 'round the bend, my huckleberry friend, Moon river and me..”

He ended the dance, giving her a little twirl.

“My turn,” Pete cut in as another song came on…Nat King Cole’s ‘Ramblin’ Rose.”

Ivy laughed like a school girl. “I haven’t had fun like this in a long time, not since I was away at school. As you can see I don’t dance often. I must have two left feet.”

“You’re doing fine,” Napoleon called out.

“Yes you are,” Illya appeared at the bottom of the stairs, chiming in.

“What are you doing out of bed?”Ivy wagged her finger at him.

“I only came down to investigate all the commotion. Sounds like you are having quite the time.” He was feeling better by his standards, though anyone else would have still been curled up in bed.

The next song on the radio made his ears perk up. It was a Russian singer performing ‘Midnight in Moscow.”

It hurt to do so, but Illya flashed a crooked smiled as he nudged Pete out of the way. “I think this is my dance.”

Napoleon was grinning ear to ear as he watched his partner slowly move and sway with Ivy to this one, spinning her around at the end.

When it was over, Illya flopped down on the sofa, trying to hide the fact that he was feeling dizzy.

Solo and Galey applauded, unaware Kuryakin was still feeling unwell.

“I think it’s time for aspirin and some nice hot tea, then it’s back to bed Mister,” Ivy chided Illya. She could see something was wrong in spite of his attempts to hide how he felt.

He was given his marching orders and after taking his aspirin like a good patient, Ivy escorted him back upstairs with a nice big mug of tea and a couple of books from her collection. She filled Illya in on the weather conditions, telling him to take it easy since medical attention was a ways off until he and the others got off the island.

She sat with him for a few minutes as he sipped his tea, and before long he dozed off, never even having a chance to look at the books.

When she returned, the radio had been switched off. No need to waste the electricity Napoleon had surmised.

“He’s asleep again, that’s the best thing for him. So boys how are you around the kitchen?”

“Me,” Solo grinned,”I’m a whiz when it comes to cooking.”

“Count me out,” Galey laughed.” I couldn’t cook my way out of a paper bag.”

“Well then you’ll be peeling and slicing the potatoes and carrots, Peter.” Napoleon, you’ll help me make the sauce. You like things spicy or mild?”

“My lady, the kitchen is your purview so I defer to your preferences.”

“Mr. Solo, you’re going to spoil me, speaking like that. I’m not exactly used to a someone with a good vocabulary.”

“Well you do have one up on me since I don’t speak Inuit.”

“Two Napoleon, since her Russian is way better than yours,” Pete jabbed.

“Gee, thanks a lot. See if I don’t partner you with someone who’s stationed in Antarctica when we get back. You do recall that I’m CEA?”

“Umm, wow. Sorry I didn’t mean to…” Peter’s face went as white as a sheet.

Napoleon slapped him on the back.” Pete relax. I was only joking.”


Chapter 10- The Conclusion

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thank you for taking the trouble to write us a good last chapter when you have so much on your plate, (What is this thing called sleep..?)

Well put, Thrush being considered bad shamans.

Also, thanks for letting Galey live. I think he adds to the pleasant domestic interlude at the end. Good use of the radio prompt!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! But this isn't the last chapter!!! :D More to come! This was written before my plate became so full...

[irisheitie.livejournal.com]

I hate waiting!!! And the story is a good one. And you are using the prompts, too. IK is not too well, huh? You're gonna have us all worried, now , right??

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Ahhh the angst is settling in again, not too bad though. Good news is there's only one chapter left. Next Tuesday will see a little twist and end to the Little Diomede affair.

Thanks for reading and keeping up with the story!

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

I absolutely loved the dancing and the song you inserted into this. A little "Song-Story," eh?

Stuck in storm with yard in their arms? Quite the bad-ass enforcement agents. They can come and cook in my kitchen anytime.

Can't wait to see how you're going to work in that last PicFic.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yeah that dancing did evoke a nice image didn't. Funny I remember that song as an instrumental when I was a kid, not sure from where though.

Yes, brave UNCLE agents helping with the chores and cooking. The have 'skills' after all. "D

Thanks for catching up. Hope all is well.