section7mfu | A Bad Day at the Office - Pic Fic

An hour had passed since Napoleon’s call for Illya’s back-up had been cut off mid-sentence. Communications had been unable to re-establish contact, but had managed to pinpoint Solo’s general location. It had turned out to be a seemingly abandoned factory, which was apparently devoid of life. At least, that had been Illya’s train of thought before he heard footsteps echoing towards him.

Looking around the corridor in which he was walking, Illya saw nothing which he could duck behind so drew his weapon and carried on going forwards. He found himself hoping that it was Napoleon heading his way, but the gait sounded wrong. Within seconds, a figure dressed in a THRUSH uniform stepped into corridor. It wasn’t Napoleon but he was armed. Both men raised their guns and fired at the same time.

Pain exploded in Illya’s right shoulder but, despite staggering a little, he stayed on his feet and kept a hold of his weapon. The THRUSH guard wasn’t so lucky. Illya had caught him directly in the heart and he’d died instantly. Pausing momentarily, the Russian stooped to close the dead man’s eyes. Then, pressing his hand against his wound, he carried on his search for Napoleon.

He found him, five minutes later, chained to a metal beam. Napoleon was sitting on the ground with his hands fastened behind him, around the pole. He had also been gagged.

“There’s a bomb!” he blurted out as soon as Illya removed the dirty rag from his mouth. “It’s attached to the chain on my wrists.

Without saying a word, Illya went around behind Napoleon to examine the device.

“There doesn’t seem to be a timer,” he finally said after several seconds. “I don’t know what might set it off.”

“In that case, you should leave.”

“Do you honestly believe that will happen?” Illya retorted.

“If I’m not mistaken, there’s blood on your shirt,” Solo continued. “I’m going to assume that you were on the receiving end of one of those gunshots I heard.”

“You assume correctly,” the Russian replied, carefully examining the device. “How did you end up here?”

“I was following an informant,” Napoleon told him. “It seems, however, that he was double dealing and he led me straight into the waiting arms of THRUSH.”

“Which THRUSH exactly?” Illya queried. “The only person I’ve met is the one who shot me.”

Napoleon frowned with confusion.

“There were dozens of people here when I arrived,” he told his partner. “I couldn’t tell you where they’ve gone.”

“We’d better get you out of here before they decide to return,” Illya told him. “Now please be quiet while I concentrate.”

After two silent minutes Illya determined that the bomb was a fake, and told Napoleon as much.

“I can’t get to the lock, so I’ll have to find something to cut the chain. Wait here.”

Napoleon watched as Illya left the room. Judging by the way he was stumbling, he was obviously losing blood quickly, but Napoleon couldn’t help him until he was free. Illya returned a few minutes later with a set of bolt cutters. With difficulty, thanks to his injury, he through the chain and, using his good arm, helped Napoleon to his feet.

The pair made their way out of the building, passing only the dead guard, and had just reached Illya’s car when they was an almighty boom. Napoleon pulled Illya to the ground and covered both of their heads as pieces of the building landed around them. Once the dust settled, they sat up and surveyed the scene.

“I thought you said it was a fake,” Napoleon said, almost conversationally.

Illya could have sworn the device wasn’t real, but the evidence strewn around them told a different tale.

“I have been shot and have lost a lot of blood”, he replied, completely deadpan. “This clearly impaired my judgement.”

“Either way, we both survived,” Solo stated. “Let’s go and get you to medical.”

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