Perspective Skewed - Short Affair, 1st Feb

[otherhawk.livejournal.com]

Prompt word - Yesterday
Prompt colour - red
Word count - 1000+

Somehow, this turned into something that's definitely just part of a longer story. Worse, it would appear to be the middle. This isn't my week, and it's only Monday. :)

Perspective Skewed

Alan Lowther wasn't sure whether he was more enraged at having been captured by THRUSH, or at the posture of extreme boredom that Kuryakin appeared to be adopting in the face of their captors. Even as their interrogator – who hadn't bothered giving them a name – ranted and raved, Kuryakin looked like he was on the verge of nodding off. Arrogant commie scum. Of all the people he could be locked up with, Kuryakin had to be the worst.

It wasn't as if this attitude was something new – the commie had been wearing a very similar expression during the briefing yesterday – the open disrespect and disdain enough to leave Lowther grinding his teeth in annoyance and frustration. Yes, alright, he understood that it couldn't be easy when the meeting had started off with Maddox, the section chief, formally reading a statement of protest about a Soviet being the agent assigned in this affair. It wasn't just dumb prejudice, there was the security of an American naval base at stake here. Pretending that national security concerns should just be ignored in pursuit of idealism was just naïve and crazy. That wasn't the wording Maddox had used, of course. No, with one eye on promotion, he'd avoided even coming close to directly criticizing Alexander Waverly. Lowther himself had been less mealy-mouthed in his open letter – he'd outright stated that Kuryakin had no business being in the US in the first place. It had been signed by every Section II and III agent in the branch office, and he'd made damned sure that it was hanging on every noticeboard where Kuryakin couldn't possibly miss it.

Really, he understood that stopping THRUSH was their priority, and he was as committed to that as anyone, but what good was it if they succeeded then turned round and realised they'd let the reds in through the back door?

But Kuryakin had just listened coolly to Maddox's arguments and flatly rebuffed him. Apparently he was leading this affair and there was nothing any of them could do about it. He'd said it was because he had special technical knowledge, but Lowther wasn't convinced. Seemed there was more to it.

And then his 'leadership' had somehow got them captured. Lowther was trying not to take any kind of smug satisfaction in that. God, he didn't know how Solo could stand working with the man. He'd met Solo a few times before and he'd always seemed like a stand-up guy. Hell, they'd both fought commies in Korea, only apparently Solo's memory wasn't so good. He'd forgotten who the enemy was. But for Lowther, the war was only yesterday.

Their present circumstances didn't really lend themselves to gloating anyway – tied up and hanging from hooks on the ceiling of a windowless concrete room.

“Talk,” their captor demanded harshly.

“No,” Kuryakin replied, sounding bored.

Without warning, the THRUSH man lashed out viciously, sending Kuryakin swinging in his chains. “You will tell me everything you know!”

“To tell you everything I know would take an excessively long time,” Kuryakin said coolly. “And I fear you would not understand most of it. So in other words; no.”

Goddamned commie arrogance! It set Lowther's blood boiling. Who would ever think he would feel more sympathy with THRUSH than with his supposed fellow.

Their captor turned purple. “You think you're funny?” he snarled. “I'll teach you to be funny.”

“Go ahead,” Kuryakin drawled. “My partner has been trying for years and believes it has had very little effect.”

The THRUSH agent ignored him. “This room has a very special feature. It is designed to fill with water. Perhaps a little drowning will wipe the smile from your face.” He turned on his heel and strode out, the door banging shut behind him, and a moment later there was an ominous gurgling sound and freezing cold water started pouring down from the pipes in the ceiling.

“Of course,” Kuryakin said resignedly. “The convoluted death trap. Why would I have expected anything more?”

“Satisfied now, comrade?” Lowther spat, glaring. “I suppose they torture people much more efficiently back in the USSR?”

Kuryakin glanced at him, expression inscrutable. “It is a poor agent who loses his head so completely in the face of adverse circumstances.”

He bristled at the insult. If the commie wanted to spend what might be their last moments arguing, then Lowther would oblige. “They should never have allowed pinko scum like you into the country, let alone UNCLE. I know that you're sending secrets back home. What did you tell them about...what are you doing?”

To his bewilderment, Kuryakin had gripped the chains and was now swinging back and forth, until he turned upside down, his legs twisted around the chain from which the hook was dangling. “I had thought of escaping,” he said calmly, unhooking his hands and dropping down with a splash into the rapidly rising water. “Such an idea must surely have already occurred to you?” He started wading towards Lowther.

“I can free myself,” he snapped, pride stung and certain that the acrobatic trick wasn't beyond him. He was taller than Kuryakin and more muscular; no way was he going to be saved by the red.

“Suit yourself,” Kuryakin said with a shrug, making his way over to the door and humming to himself as he inspected it.

Let's see. He'd done this sort of thing before. Not while he was half-submerged in water, or while it was hammering down on his face, but he could do this. Only three attempts later and he was gasping for breath, and no further forwards. Worse, the water was now almost at chest height.

“Alright,” Kuryakin, said briskly, splashing over. “I appreciate your reluctance to be touched by a 'filthy commie' such as I, but I would prefer we get out of here before drowning. So you are just going to have to deal with your squeamishness.”

He wanted to retort, but before he could, Kuryakin had ducked underwater and hoisted Lowther up by the legs, leaving him completely humiliated but able to unhook his hands. “Thank you,” he said grudgingly, but Kuryakin had already turned back to the door.

“This opens outwards. A very foolish design,” he said, looking over his shoulder. “And to anticipate your next question, yes, they make better convoluted death traps in the USSR. But more to the point, all I need to do is unscrew these, and the water pressure will force the door open. You may wish to hold onto something.”

He took the hint, and a second later the door was violently wrenched outwards and they were standing in an empty corridor, watching the water cascade towards the stairs.

“Come,” Kuryakin “We must go to the control room to complete our mission.”

“You're not in charge here,” he said belatedly, to the other man's back. Damnit.

Following the commie made his skin crawl, and when they got to the control room and he heard a noise coming from inside, he grabbed Kuryakin's arm imperiously and gestured between himself and the door. He was going to show that

Kuryakin looked at him consideringly for a long moment, then his lips twitched into a half smile and he nodded, standing back to provide what cover he could without a gun.

Lowther threw the door open and dived inside....right into a waiting fist. Dazed, he fell to the ground, blinking and aware of Kuryakin stepping inside and past him towards the man who'd just punched him.

“You're wet,” the man stated – damn, it was Solo! What was going on here?

“And you are late,” Kuryakin answered darkly.

“Right.” Solo looked down at him, frowning. “Is he the mole?”

“No, just a patriot,” Kuryakin said, and that shouldn't sound so disparaging.

“Right,” Solo said again, and his eyes were cold but he still reached out a hand to help Lowther up. “Well, we'd better get going. At least now we know for sure that there is a leak, thanks to you getting captured.”

“I'm overjoyed,” Kuryakin said blandly. “Now can we get out of here?”

So this had all been to find a leak? He found himself grinding his teeth again. Okay, so maybe the commie had saved him – that didn't mean he had to like him.