section7mfu | Riding High - Short Affair 4/18

Prompts: jostle, silver

word count: 885

……………………………

It didn't take long for the blond to wake up from the annoying jostle he endured at the hands of his uncaring partner.

"Hey, wake up! You need to get up Illya. Like, now." Napoleon's voice was iced over with dread, the gun in his face too close to ignore or make light of.

"Your lazy Russian partner let you take the heat for this, tough guy. I think you'd be better off without him." With that the gun shifted its aim and was directed at the newly alert blue eyes of Illya Kuryakin.

The gunman was nervous, his hand shook slightly as he tried to convince the two UNCLE agents that he meant business with a capitol B. Napoleon wasn't buying it, but he also knew a nervous gunman was infinitely more dangerous than one with nerves of steel. Accidents could, and did, happen.

Illya didn't move a muscle, his mind was racing with scenarios in which he didn't die here, hoping that his partner was planning something brilliant and, ultimately, non violent for their escape.

"Look Alan… May I call you Alan?' A nod indicated his permission.

"Alan, I don't know what you think has happened here but, hey… we're all just guys right? You and me and Illya. Why would you want to hurt either of us? All we did was help you get what was yours and now, well now you're free to go on your way and never see anyone from that THRUSH gang ever again. We helped get your freedom. Is that any reason to want to shoot us?"

He was smooth, his voice a soothing balm over the frayed nerves of Alan Dempsey. The man had gotten entangled with a THRUSH chief who used him to, as they say, 'cook the books'. Alan was a keeper of books, an accountant with a steady hand where numbers were concerned. But now he was scared, and these two had convinced him to double-cross Nicky Esperanza, a violent man whose conscience was seared over by years of crime. He knew who had betrayed him and his organization. THRUSH wouldn't like what they were going to see when Nicky's books were examined. Somebody would pay, and Esperanza knew just who to look for.

"You guys made me do it, and now Nicky is looking for me and he's… O god he's gonna kill me…" It wasn't declarative, more of a whine that seemed to shatter what was left of Alan's composure. Illya saw his opportunity and with a swiftness that surprised even Napoleon, took the gun from the would-be assassin and holstered it. The gun was his, the silver glint on the grip betraying the letter K…for Kuryakin.

With that swift restructuring of the power, Alan collapsed onto the cement floor and bowed his head, almost as if in worship of some unseen god.

"I think we best find a way out of here." Illya's advice was exactly what Napoleon had in mind. He went to the door and looked down an empty corridor that led to another door.

"Does this lead to the outside? Alan! Will we get outside if we go down this corridor?" The man was beyond caring, he already envisioned his demise at the hands of Esperanza. There was no escaping that maniac.

"Y…yes… But don't think you'll ever get away from him. He… he owns this city. We're all doomed." Illya shook his head. He had no patience with this type of melodramatic display.

"We are going to get out of here and Nicky Esperanza does not own this city. He is a THRUSH minion like all of the others and ultimately will be forced to explain to them where the money went. He is the one who is doomed. Do you understand?"

Alan seemed to brighten a little at that. He hadn't actually considered what THRUSH would do to Esperanza, only his own fate. Something clicked, a shot of adrenaline in light of a prospect for survival he hadn't had ten minutes earlier.

"You're right, aren't you. THRUSH is the bigger, uh… man… so to speak. Nicky is in trouble with THRUSH. Yes, we can get out down that corridor. My car is in the back and…"

Napoleon took him by the arm and was ushering him out before he could finish his sentence. Down the corridor, out the door and into Alan's Mark II convertible. Illya was at the wheel as he admired the vehicle. Napoleon whistled a low, admiring tune.

"Nice ride Alan. And it's in beautiful condition." That seemed to please the accountant. He had spent Nicky's money for things that made him happy, like this car. He hoped he could keep it.

"Am I going into witness protection? I think I can handle it if that's what I need to do." He was earnest now, a future lay before him that an hour ago he had deemed impossible. Napoleon recognized the cycle of emotions, going from despair to hope. UNCLE did that for people sometimes.

"Alan, we'll keep you safe, and whichever method of long term security is best suited for your situation, well you have my word that you'll be well taken care of."

That seemed to make Alan feel better. Maybe there was life after crime.