section7mfu | Impromptu Challenge

katbybee left us with our agents in more trouble than they had bargained for.
Previous chapters:
1
2
3
Here is chapter 4...
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By the next morning's first ray of sunshine the sisters had returned to the cell in which they held their prizes. After some conversation between the two, in German, Illya was able to construct a bit of a scenario which he relayed to his partner after the women retreated once more to wherever they were staying in the house.

"Ilse and Hilde, those are their names. The redhead is Hilde..." Illya's voice was raspy from dust and cold air. The accomodations were not hospitable by any standard.

"Of course, Ilse just doesn't sound...' Napoleon took note of his friend's disapproving expression. "Umm, never mind. So, now we need to get out of here. Any suggestions?"

Illya had stared down every corner, every crevice within the room. The window was large enough for him to get through it, with some effort, but he doubted that Napoleon would be able to make it. Still, one escapee could bring back help...

"I could probably get out through the window...' He looked at Napoleon to guage his reaction, "but do you think you can?"

Napoleon huffed at the inuendo.

"Of course I can. We might have a problem with those bars, however." He gave a quick nod of his head, upwards toward the barred window.

"Yes, I believe that would be a bit of a problem, unless of course...' That wry smile of his made Napoleon hopeful that his sneaky Russian partner had something left of his usual collection of 'tools'. Tools of the trade and Illya was nearly synonymous.

Illya was working at the rope wound around his wrists, an easy task for the Russian as he managed to wriggle free of it. He helped Napoleon finish up on his, then stood up and approached the window, reaching into his trouser pocket as he did so. Every so often an unwitting villain would neglect to remove the simplest of Illya's artillery, and such was the case now. A hidden pocket within his trouser pocket held just what was needed. With a bit of a flourish he produced a matchbook that he stretched and moulded around the base of the window, effectively adhering it to the bars. With a flick of his thumbnail he ignited the matches and set in motion a very effective explosion that tore open their new escape route.

There wasn't much time for the escape, the noise was certainly enough to gain the attention of their captors. They needed to get free of this location and try to make contact with Headquarters. When they were deep enough into the trees beyond their former prison, a large explosion forced them to the ground as rock and earth rained down on them. When at last they emerged from a covering of leaves and the occasional brick, what they saw shocked them. There was no longer anything left where once had stood the house from which they had just escaped.

Each man had his ideas about what they were seeing, but only Napoleon shuddered slightly at the realization of who might think enough of him to create such carnage.