"Be careful what you wish for" ~ for PicFic Tuesday 11/10

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

It was a quiet morning, as Solo and Kuryakin sat together in the office they shared.

No calls to save the world, no megalomaniacs on the loose wanting to blow up Hawaii or anywhere else for that matter...though there were a few places the team could think of that they wouldn’t mind seeing blown out of existence.

All of Illya’s paperwork had been completed in triplicate, and sent to the appropriate location, one of which was the filing cabinet behind where the Russian was seated.

Those copies were redacted and there simply for reference should either agent feel the need to revist any of their missions.

More specific details would require heading to File 40 if there came a need to refresh one’s memory of a past assignment; with the Russian’s eidetic memory there was rarely a need for that...except in the case of accounting yet again questioning an expense while in the field. It was then Kuryakin made a point of reviewing a case file making sure all his t’s were crossed and i’s dotted.

Napoleon on the other hand was a different story altogether; the man simply hated doing paperwork. Not that he was incapable of performing such a task; when he set his mind to it he could produce quite detailed reports. As he once told Illya, he kept it all safely in his noggin’ should he need to recount the details of an assignment.

That philosophy had gotten him in trouble with Alexander Waverly more than once...

Napoleon Solo much preferred to devote his time to other things, such as a little skirt chasing.

Somehow he always managed to get by writing his reports between Illya and Eileen O’Toole, the Section II secretary. They were the only two people who could decipher what Solo called handwriting. Illya’s name for it was chicken scratch.

At the moment no work of any consequence was being done and the agents found themselves in some rare down time. Napoleon was playing with a few paperclips, bending and flicking them into the crystal ashtray on his desk. Illya had his nose buried in a scientific journal.

Both men were just a little bored wishing for some action, when that wish came true and all hell broke loose.

The klaxons blared and immediately the partners were out into the corridor with their Specials in hand. Above their heads, emergency lights were flashing, alternating green and red.

“Mr. Kuryakin to bomb disposal. Mr. Kuryakin to bomb disposal.” The message repeated several times over the public address system until Illya stopped at a house phone, and picking it up; he informed them he was on the way.

“Go to receiving Illya. A package somehow got past bomb detection.”  He hesitated for a split second as protocol and security for checking packages here as headquarters were outstanding... he helped set it up himself. So for a bomb to get by, well it must be a unique one, making it all the more dangerous a situation.

“Have someone bring my tools there immediately. They are in the bomb disposal unit in the basement.”

“Will do Illya and hurry,” Heather McNabb’s voice showed signs of strain.

Kuryakin and Solo arrived at the entrance to the receiving department in the lower level of headquarters but the doors were sealed, standard procedure during the possible threat of an explosion.

Illya entered his pass code into the keypad and the door opened instantly; at that moment someone arrived behind him with the Russian’s tool kit used to disarm a bomb.

“Clear this level and the one above it,”Napoleon ordered.

“Already done sir.”

“Good, then get out of here, Douglas.”

The young, fresh-faced Section III agent didn’t need to be told twice and took off down the corridor.

Inside the receiving room, Louis Harris the head of the department, was standing beside a stainless steel table, one used to unwrap packages that had been cleared. He was as white as a ghost.

“I sent everyone out as soon as it happened,” Harris said.

His hand was resting on a small white cylindrical object with lights flashing, quickly alternating from red to blue.

“What happened?” Napoleon asked.

“I opened the package and when I took it out, the lights started going off. I think they’re getting faster and faster. It must be some sort of bomb and I activated it. I’m guessing when the lights flash fast enough, it’ll go kaboom.”

“Have you tried removing your hand?” Illya asked.

“No, I was afraid to.”

“Do so now.”

Louis complied, and he breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened.

“Okay, get out of here,” Napoleon ordered.

“You too my friend,” Illya added. “No need for you to risk your life as well.”

“No. I’m staying. You may need my help."

Kuryakin gave him no argument as the studied the device.

“I have never seen anything like it. Have you?” Illya frowned.

“No not really.”

Kuryakin leaned forward, being careful not to touch the thing. The flashing remained consistent, not speeding up as Harris had thought.

He pulled out his jeweler’s loupe, examining what looked like a small door kept closed by a single screw.  Illya inserted a magnetized screwdriver, slowly turning it until the screw came free, clinging to the screwdriver tip. Carefully removing the door; he held his breath.

“Napoleon, there is nothing here but a 9 volt battery. I see no timing device, and no explosive compound ” He disconnected the battery and the flashing stopped.

Solo exhaled. “Then what the hell is this?”

“I can answer that,” the doors opened and April Dancer whisked inside. She had their immediate attention, not only for what she'd said but for the way she was dressed, wearing a skin tight bright yellow, very mini-dress and matching go-go boots.

”So what is it?” Napoleon refocused after admiring her outfit.

“I ordered it from a party supply company, it’s just a battery operated strobe light. I was going to use it at my Halloween party but it never arrived in time. I was in Security when the alarm went up and I saw you examining it on the monitor. I figured I better come down and stop you before you destroyed it.”

She picked it up, giving it a toss in her hand. “Well there’s always next year’s party.”

“April, it is November 10th and you’re already planning for next year?” Illya looked at her in disbelief.

“It’s never too early to plan ahead darling,” April tossed it into her shoulder bag.

“Any other surprises due in the mail?” Napoleon asked.

“Well I did order a replica of a skeleton…and a few bloody latex body parts,” she answered demurely. "Perhaps I should have any future packages shipped to ummm, my neighbor's apartment instead.”

“Good idea,” Solo and Kuryakin said in unison.

“So much for a quiet day,” Napoleon said.

“I will be glad to go back to our office after this false alarm,” Illya admitted.

Suddenly the klaxons blared again. The boys and April were out to the corridor in a flash...

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Oh dear, I think Mr Waverly might have something very emphatic to say about this. Still, it gave everyone something to do. Good one :-)

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yep I think a new memo will be going out about having personal packages shipped to headquarters. It was a warm up for the second alarm. "D

Thanks so much for reading and commenting cuz. I'm behind in my reading. Am a bit under the weather with aches and cough. Nothing I can take for it but tea and chicken soup...though not home made. I have the energy of a slug. ugh.

Doesn't helo that it's dark, cold and raining either.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Tea and chicken soup are two of the best things you can have. Keep yourself warm and get plenty of sleep. Hope you feel better very quickly.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Am in my fleece jammies, robe and bootie slippers on the sofa with Miss Minnie squished up next to me. :D

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

Never, or hardly ever, a dull moment at headquarters. :) Nice to see April.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading and commenting. Appreciate it and glad you liked the story. I'm a bit behind on my reading and will be catching up to yours shortly. I'm a bit under the weather right now. ugh...

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

Ugh. Me too. Caught the viral cough going around here. Doctor said it lasts 3 weeks to 3 months. 3 months?! Hmmm. How would IK or NP deal with a 3 month cough? Maybe there's a story in this.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Oh no, hope that's not what I have? Hmmm, 3 month cough for the boys? They'd be out of the field except for som courier work...that wouldn't sit well with them, would it?

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Very nice story. I guess they're going to be looking through the mail procedures more carefully as well.

And also, I really love the thought that April plans for Halloween that far in advance. Halloween is Serious Business.

On another note, hope you're feeling better soon. :(

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The prompt is exactly what April said it was, merely a strobe light, but I thought it could be a bit ominous with those flashing lights. Yes, new mail room policy for sure.

Thanks for commenting and for the get will wishes. We all seem to be going under the weather here one by one. It's that time of year I guess.

Am sure I picked this bug up at a trad session I was playing at on Friday night. My fiddler friend who I drove up there with isn't feeling well either. sniffle..."D

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

I wholeheartedly agree with April, one can never start planning next years Halloween party too soon. I wondered what that thing could possibly be. Looks like it would screw onto a bottle top.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

It's exactly what she said it is, a battery operated strobe light. :D

Thanks you!