The Four Affair - part 4

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The story began here...
~~~~~:

The noise was only the sound of something rummaging in a garbage can.  Thankful that their pursuers weren’t responsible, April and Illya continued on towards the car they had left parked outside of the bar where this had all begun just an hour earlier.

With the vehicle in sight, Illya once again pulled on April’s arm, tugging at her to follow him closely as they made a run for the car.  Just as Illya was putting a key into the lock, a bullet whizzed past his head, barely missing an opportunity to part the unruly blond hair.

April ducked, and then came up in a posture that said she was ready.  Once more Illya went down as another bullet struck the car’s reinforced body.  With Illya on the ground and April in a stance meant to convey danger to the opposition, seconds seemed to stretch into unbearable eons.

“Illya, are you all right?”

There was a concern born of duty in the woman’s voice.

“Yes, just keeping the ground company.  Do you see anything?”

April retreated to the side of the car where Illya was slowly standing again.  In the dark it was impossible to see the small puddle of blood.

“You… Illya?”

The blond collapsed again, this time from the puncture in his chest.  April unlocked the back door and with every ounce of strength she had, pulled and pushed until the Russian was inside.  Without waiting for anyone else to show up, the woman from UNCLE turned the ignition and floored the sedan, screeching around corners and into Manhattan traffic without any concern for unfortunate pedestrians or innocents in competing cars.  Getting Kuryakin into medical was now her only concern.

Mark Slate twisted the belt buckle just enough to set the homing signal before a light came on in the room.  Standing in the doorway was Lucas Weir, a small smile playing across his face as he surveyed the sight of two unarmed UNCLE agents.

“Ah, was it rude of me to throw my new friends into this dark room?  I apologize, but at times it is necessary to be less than civil.”

Napoleon smiled, not allowing his enemy to see anything except a cool and equally calculating foe.

“I totally understand.  Parties sometimes bring out the worst in people.  Oh, by the way, your other guests seemed a little worse for wear out there.  I hope it’s nothing serious.”

If Lucas could have chosen someone with whom to join forces, it would have been a man like Napoleon Solo.  Most of the people he encountered in THRUSH were less than admirable.

“You, Napoleon, are a worthy opponent.  I regret that we will not have opportunity to duel properly.  I fear that my duty requires me to send you away to THRUSH Central.’

Weir paused, his attention refocused on Mark Slate.  This presented a conundrum of sorts.

He pointed at Slate…

“I am not quite certain what to do with you, Mr. Slate.  It seems you are not quite so much in demand as your friend here.”

Mark feigned insult at the remark.

“I’m quite certain that I am extremely valuable to the right people.  Perhaps you just don’t know any of them.”

“Ha! A little repartee… how clever of you, Mr. Slate.  I fear that won’t change things, however.  You are, most probably, quite doomed.”

Napoleon tilted his chin, posturing for the inevitable litany of accomplishments that usually came about now.  THRUSH types seemed always to need an outlet for explaining themselves.

“I wouldn’t count me out just yet, Weir.  So far all you have are a room full of stoned groupies and a turncoat from UNCLE.”

Napoleon jumped on that, genuinely wanting to know how Weir had seduced Tammy into joining him.

“May I speak with agent Gaines… er, Tammy.  I would very much like to know why she has deserted my team for, shall we say, the dark side.”

Lucas smiled, a crooked sort of smile that immediately struck something like fear into Napoleon’s soul.  He had a bad feeling about things.

“I am sorry to report that your Miss Gaines has, shall we say, gone prematurely into that other dark place.  I fear we had no further use for someone who could so easily turn from one side to the other.  In any event, I am certain she will be missed.”

Mark couldn’t help an anguished sigh.  He had known the girl very slightly, and the thought of her being dead, and of her betrayal…

“You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?  It must make you feel like a man to murder women, eh.”

Napoleon put a hand out to hold Mark back from what was leading to an aggressive stance.  It would neither of them any good to stir things up just yet. 

April managed to get back to headquarters in record time.  Illya had regained consciousness several times, telling April to go back for Napoleon and Mark as she steadfastly gunned the engine and aimed for Medical.

April had alerted the staff that she was bringing in a wounded agent.  When she arrived there was a gurney and two orderlies ready to transfer Illya into the facilities.  Another Section III agent was ready to take the wheel of the car as April followed the medical entourage inside.

Dr. Wheeler was on duty this evening, and he greeted April with an outstretched arm that indicated she could go no farther than the swinging double doors that led to the operating suite. The wait was not interminable, nor the procedure life threatening.  When Wheeler next emerged from the guarded venue he spoke to both people who waited there.

“Hello Mr. Waverly, Miss Dancer.  Mr. Kuryakin has lost quite a lot of blood, but the bullet is not endangering his life, although he will have a very difficult time putting on a shirt and tie for a few weeks.”

April tried not to smile at that.

“Well, that’s a relief, he generally wears turtleneck sweaters.”

The stoic physician didn’t see much benefit to that and stifled a shrug at the image of a man trying to put an arm into a sweater while sporting a sling.

“You can see him when he wakes up, but not before.”

Waverly nodded, turned to April with a raised eyebrow at her remark and headed back to the elevator.

April had to make a decision: whether to wait for Illya to wake up or go back to the apartment where last she had seen her partner and Napoleon.  She was torn, partly due to the lack of direction. 
It was as though Mr. Waverly assumed that the young woman would wait here at headquarters.

Conclusion...

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thanks for another good chapter. Both the action and the banter - ”Just keeping the ground company.”! - are like very good canon. Illya's collapse and Tammy's murder are really effective shocks, too.

I do like Illya telling April to go back for Napoleon and Mark whenever he's conscious. And very much how well you have them working together.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I'm glad you enjoyed it and that you didn't have to wait too long ;) More is on the way... soon.

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

Keeping the ground company, like that one. Very good flow, can't wait for the next chapter

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Illya always did have good lines ;) Thanks.

[svetlanacat4.livejournal.com]

Love April "Napoleoning" her Illya, bringing him back to Medical... and Illya telling her to go back for Napoleon and Mark!

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you. Yes, April being assertive and what her partner needs in a crisis. I hope you're going to be joining in the Christmas PicFic that Marian has planned. It sounds fun.