Caught in the Spider's Web - Part 7 - 30th November

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Prompt Word - trio
Prompt colour - black
Word count 750

The explosives are kept in the armoury downstairs, guarded by a solitary guard. They don't discuss it; Angelique distracts him, Illya knocks him out and they work together uncomfortably well.

There is enough C4 to bring a grim smile of satisfaction to his face. Let this affair end in flames. It's the best he can ask for.

He has seen enough of the house now to know where the weak points are, which walls and corners to plant explosives on, relying on that peculiar mix of instinct, study and skill that once had Napoleon introduce him as 'UNCLE's demolition artist'. He feels his lips twitch, remembering how Napoleon had followed that up by saying “With the full-on artistic temperament, if you know what I mean,” in an undertone that had been meant entirely for his ears.

They spend so much time arguing, each trying to get one up on the other, and truthfully there are few moments he regrets. Even if now the good times are tainted with grief, he knows there have been good times, knows too that Napoleon has enjoyed their bickering and one-up-man-ship just as he has.

“Care to let me in on the joke?” Angelique demands acidly.

The smile – not that it could truly be called such – vanishes from his face. “A memory. Nothing more.”

“Really.” She huffs bitterly. “Perhaps if you spent less time daydreaming Napoleon would still be alive.”

The repeated accusation wears on him. He turns on her fiercely, ignoring the stab of pain that cuts through the adrenaline, warning him that he is pushing his battered body far too far. “It was not I who told the late, unlamented Mr Fuller who Napoleon was and what he was doing here. You did this, Angelique. You are far more guilty of - “

“ - I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do,” she interrupts furiously. “My allegiance is to THRUSH – in case you haven't noticed, you insufferable Russian prig. I've never pretended to be anything else. Napoleon knew that. He respected that, and he trusted you to get him out of trouble, not just stand and watch him die.”

“You stood and watched him die,” he told her. “You were with Fuller. You'll betray THRUSH now for the sake of nothing more than revenge, but actually standing up and and helping when it matters.” He gazed at her, infinite contempt burning in his soul. “Was it just that you were worried it might be bad for your career? Or were you afraid you might break a nail?”

“Well, well, well.” The unexpected voice has them both turning, and they see a THRUSH guard standing there, rifle trained on them. “Helping the prisoner escape, are we, Miss Angelique? I always heard it was Solo you were sweet on.”

And now they are caught. He wonders how Angelique will talk herself out of this.

*

It's late and the house is dark. Napoleon isn't sure that he was expecting a hive of activity, but this is plain unsettling. And inconvenient. His plan, such as it is, had been to hold the first goon he comes across at gunpoint and demand to be taken to Illya. A simple strategy, but one that has worked many times before. But the lack of guards is making it impossible.

Still, he silently walks into the black and the gloom, determination driving his steps. Illya is here somewhere, after all.

(He tries not to consider that Fuller hadn't bothered keeping him around for interrogation.)

Heading towards the stairs, he hears voices coming from the left. A man's voice he doesn't recognise, low and indistinct and gleeful, and then a woman's voice, sharp, arguing – Angelique.

Hmmm. Well, if nothing else, she will be able to tell him where Illya is.

Cautiously, he rounds the corner, ignoring the sickening, swimming feeling in his head, and he sees Illya and Angelique standing there, a THRUSH guard confronting them at gunpoint.

“Save your speeches, bitch,” he is saying. “When I report your treachery, I'm looking at promotion for sure. Now, let's get rid of the UNCLE agent and then you and me are gonna - “

He aims his gun at Illya. Napoleon fires without hesitation and, as the guard falls to the ground, he steps out of the shadows with an urbane smile. “Fancy meeting you here.”

For a long moment, the trio simply stare at each other.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

This was an amazing chapter! Wow! Absolutely loved the Illya/Angelique dynamic. Napoleon's entrance was so...Napoleon.

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Oh, thanks! Yeah, they're just not capable of actually doing what needs to be done without arguing. And I'm glad that seemed Napoleonish, for want of a better word.

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

I can just see Napoleon's urbane smile. Can't wait for the trio's reactions in the next edition. Illya's characterization of their relationship, how they enjoy the bickering and one-up-man-ship, was wonderful.

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Glad you could see that expression, I was picturing something particularly him. And I do think a lot of their friendship is based in squabbling and competition.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Absolutely fantastic!! I love how Illya and Angelique work so well together, despite the hatred between them.

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank you. They are both very good at what they do, after all.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The big Aha! The emotional intensity is very satisfying.

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Thanks! Next chapter we get to see their reaction. :)