The Boo from UNCLE- Chapter 12 by ajb_4
Oct. 23rd, 2016 06:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
mrua7.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
section7mfuReposting this on Section VII for aj.
Something reset in Illya's mind with the realization of his partner's absence. He flicked off the flashlight to save the battery and sought a reorganization of events in the meager pulse of the mainframe light. Enough was enough. It was time to line up known facts and summarize, because their current actions were getting them nowhere.
First: The cascade of events were designed to put them off balance, and the resulting distraction allowed the abduction of Mr. Waverly.
Second: Their running around putting out all these small fires was exactly what was intended. It was time to turn the tables and stop reacting - now was the time to become proactive.
Third: The building was compromised - the effects he'd seen had taken a lot of power to both develop and institute. Power was the key, central to everything.
Fourth: There was nothing in their training to handle this situation. The only power not corrupted was brainpower.
The first priority was to recover Alexander Waverly.
With his thoughts in order, Illya took a step back, turned on the flashlight and carefully studied the room's every detail. If Napoleon's train of thought was on the same track, what would be his first step? Per their training, that step would be to escape.
With this in mind, he angled the light up and noted a shift in a ceiling panel housing the air shaft - the size of the shaft being a long time security concern they'd discussed before. A crooked smile touched the corner of his mouth; he and his partner were on the same wavelength. He was looking for Waverly, and now Kuryakin knew exactly what his own role was. Illya turned and strode from the room and knelt by Slater.
"Can you move?"
Slater grit his teeth and sat up with a groan. "I'll do my best."
"Can you get to the ammo room and load up with portable explosives? We will need to blast doors to get outside since the power is compromised."
The injured agent nodded once. "When Security gets here, we'll proceed. Where do we take them?"
"Bring them to me in the labs." Illya stood, cocked his head and pointed at Dr. Baitman, shivering against the hallway wall. "You, with me." Kuryakin took a step, immediately noting that Baitman hadn't budged. He grabbed the Doctor's arm and dragged him in his wake. "Don't dawdle."
Sputtering, Baitman found his feet and followed, waving his sorry flashlight ahead. They turned a corner and ran into a pair of wide-eyed Security officers. Illya recognized that they, too, were woefully unprepared for the things they'd faced, and stopped them to focus their efforts.
"You help Slater back there," he pointed behind him and then turned to the other officer, "and you head to the map room. I have no doubt Solo is there. When he's finished, both of you join me in the lab. Now go."
With relieved nods, the men split to follow the much needed orders. Illya noted that they, too, seemed glad to finally have some direction.
"Let's go." He continued down the hall with Dr. Baitman.
"What's your plan?" Baitman puffed, sounding a bit more focused as he gathered his scattered wits.
Illya's voice dropped to the point where Baitman had to strain to hear. "I am sure we are being monitored, so I will be brief. Remember Dr. Brown's Flux Capacitor?"
They jogged through strangely empty corridors, their weak flashlights barely lighting the way. Illya acknowledged the occasional agent guarding doors with a simple nod as they moved past them. Baitman's mind clicked into gear as they travelled. The device Kuryakin mentioned was under construction, based on some papers retrieved from a home in Hill Valley, California, in the 1950s when a Dr. Emmitt Brown disappeared under mysterious circumstances from a makeshift lab in his home. There were many interesting devices in the shop, but the most intriguing item was a drawing of what was labeled as a "Flux Capacitor".
"You've thought of a use for that?" Baitman whispered.
In the darkness, Kuryakin's quick smile brightened the mood. "Oh yes. It will need some modification, though. That's where you come in."
*******
Napoleon dropped from the air vent onto a long table, and his feet flew out from under him scattering papers like wind- blown leaves. He landed hard on his butt. "OOF!" he breathed, bracing with his arms to keep from toppling off the surface. He took a moment to ascertain that no ghostly figures had followed him.
As soon as he caught his breath, he rolled aside and made his way to the large wall map of New York. He dug his failing flashlight from his pocket and shined it on the map, taking a second to mourn the frayed spot on his sleeve from the brief yet painful encounter with the ghost of Lucia Belmont. Where ever these entities were getting their power, it was enough to sting.
"Let's see," he muttered, his finger hovering over the map. Although the glimpse he'd seen on the computer monitor of Waverly's location was a vast area, he also recognized that it was in a rugged area outside the city. The map showed open land, public parkland, and mountains. As he studied the area in flickering light, he combed his memories of past cases and associated addresses. None were in the area indicated. He reordered his thought process.
Whoever had Waverly was orchestrating this attack, that much they knew from Beldon's "ghost". All of this was a very busy distraction that required substantial power to both build and initiate. His eyes scanned the area, dismissing those that were undeveloped. He also applied his known capabilities and past performances of Waverly's location device, and shaved off another section. He was left with a remote valley that offered about three square miles of useable land and also happened to be in the path of major power lines.
"Voila," he muttered. "That would supply enough juice."
Napoleon felt around for a magnifying glass and found one in the desk of Maisey Oden, a mature woman who was vain enough to avoid glasses of any sort. He snorted at the find - it wasn't really a surprise. He caught her once or twice trying to hide the glass when he'd arrived unexpectedly. He turned Maisey's glass on the map and in the sputtering beam of his flashlight, found what he sought. His light died at the same time someone pounded on the door. Ghosts didn't bother knocking.
"Agent Solo?" a voice called. "I've been sent to help!"
Napoleon grinned. Finally, things were going his way.
********
Working from memory, Illya dragged what he needed from various parts of the lab. Baitman, busy making a copper coil that dwarfed the room, eyed the items as they were assembled. He, too, had no doubt that they were being monitored, so as Kuryakin requested, he kept quiet. Finally, though, his scientific curiosity overwhelmed him, and he stopped and sidled up to the busy agent.
"You're modifying it?"
"Yes," Illya said lowly. "I am configuring it to be a Flash Capacitor. Fluxing energy won't work. I need an instant flash." Nimble fingers soldered wires from the harvested computer capacitors, daisy chaining them together. A row of generator batteries stood by, ready to be added to the line.
"You will need a switch, right?"
"With a timer, yes. We need to have some distance when this engages."
Baitman studied the set up for a moment, then his face brightened. "You're making a . . ."
"Quiet!" Kuryakin snapped. Then he leaned in and whispered, "I've grown tired of being herded like a sheep, and we don't have time to locate their device. Kill the power, kill the device. An electromagnetic pulse is the only answer."
"But we won't have power, either," Baitman pointed out.
Illya reached for the copper tail of the coil and began soldering it to the capacitor. "Even playing field, then," he stated flatly.
*****
Between the two of them, the less than sturdy door to the map room finally gave way to Solo and the Security officer. They then jogged through the halls toward the labs.
"What next?" The officer asked as they followed his light beam.
"If I know my Russians," Solo replied, "I'm sure the next step will be somewhat explosive."
"Good to know, sir." The officer sounded apprehensive.
They reached the lab and stepped through the demolished doorway. Solo eyed his busy partner. "Looks like you have a plan?"
Illya stepped back, dragging Baitman with him. "Yes. You know where Waverly is?"
"I have a good idea, yes."
Just then, Slater and the other Security officer rounded the corner. The officer carried a large bundle, and Illya took it from him and split the explosives with Solo. He quickly summed up his expected results, and made sure the officers knew what their jobs were in the aftermath. Then, he flipped a jury-rigged switch.
"Then let's go," Illya said. "We have five minutes to clear the area." He directed Slater and the two Security men to clear the floor, then, hugging the bundle to his chest, indicated to Solo that it was time to leave.
"Tired of being pushed around?" Napoleon asked, his tone amused.
"Most definitely."
They hit the stairwell and made it to the bottom floor before encountering apparitions.
Mother Fear coalesced from a dark fog, shoulder to shoulder with Navarone. Both sets of eyes glowered with hatred. Navarone lifted an arm and a bolt shot from her fingertips toward Illya. He ducked, but the strike to his shoulder bounced him off the wall. Somehow, he managed to hang on to his explosive bundle.
Solo, well aware of the explosives clutched to his own chest, prepared to evade, but the vengeful specters remained focused on Kuryakin and all he could do was watch in horror.
Mother Fear took a step toward the downed agent, raised her arm, and a sparking, crackling version of a bull whip circled once before uncurling toward it target. The tip flashed blindingly when it connected with Illya's hip, and he yelped in pain. The specters smiled evilly, and the whip curled back for another strike.
Suddenly, an odd, hard thrum shook the walls and massaged Solo's bones, and then, in an instant, the spirits blinked out of existence and the halls became shrouded in blackness. All power vanished.
Solo paused a moment to orient himself. "Illya?" he called. "ILLYA?"
A low groan preceded rustling noises as Kuryakin moved, and he gave a gritted reply. "Stop shouting."
Solo made his way to his partner's side and pulled Illya to an upright, seated position. "You okay?"
"I will be." He shifted to stand, hissing.
"Good thing they missed the explosives."
"Small favors," Illya growled.
"I take it that you are responsible for all this darkness?"
"Yes. I managed to assemble an EMP. All electronics in the area are non functional."
Napoleon helped him to stand and they felt their way to the exit. "Whatever that is, it evened the playing field."
"That was my thinking, yes."
"Glad to see you are finally thinking like me." He couldn't see the withering look sent his way. Napoleon gathered the rest of the explosives from the floor. "We'll need to blast through two doors to get outside. You've done your part, so now its my turn to have some fun."
"Fair enough."
Napoleon blasted through two doors and a closet wall to make it into Del Floria's small shop. When they peered through the remaining window to the outside, they could barely made out the Thrush-armed, fake police outside. It was as black outside as it was inside, and the group milled around in confusion, reluctant to enter the shop.
"Looks like your power play took out more than the building," Solo murmured.
Illya squinted. "Huh. I might have over played my hand."
It was total darkness as far as their eyes could see. The one positive for them was that the night vision devices on the Thrush rifles would be useless. The two agents pulled their weapons. Illya moved stiffly and still lacked complete use of his left arm.
"Ready?" Napoleon whispered.
Before Illya could reply, gunfire erupted outside. The Thrushmen regrouped and scrambled for cover. The two agents broke the glass and joined the fray, driving the henchmen back. Solo saw muzzle flash to his left and swung his gun arm around.
"Whoa, mate!" Mark's familiar voice penetrated the darkness. "Good guy!"
They managed to drive off the opposition and in the sudden quiet, April called to them. "Come on out!"
Napoleon and Illya staggered through the doorway and up the flight of stairs to the street, where they met April and Mark. It took a minute to ensure their well being and relative safety, and then Napoleon briefed the newcomers on the events of UNCLE HQ.
"You did this?" April asked, waving at the dark street.
"Yes, and we are now free to recover Mr. Waverly," Illya said.
She looked at him for a long second. "You have no idea, do you?"
Solo frowned. "About what?"
"The entire city is out, along with the main power station two blocks over. It powers the Eastern seaboard."
It took a moment for the gravity of the situation to sink in.
"You get the paperwork on this one, Tovarich," Solo said to his partner. "Now let's get Waverly and go home."
Something reset in Illya's mind with the realization of his partner's absence. He flicked off the flashlight to save the battery and sought a reorganization of events in the meager pulse of the mainframe light. Enough was enough. It was time to line up known facts and summarize, because their current actions were getting them nowhere.
First: The cascade of events were designed to put them off balance, and the resulting distraction allowed the abduction of Mr. Waverly.
Second: Their running around putting out all these small fires was exactly what was intended. It was time to turn the tables and stop reacting - now was the time to become proactive.
Third: The building was compromised - the effects he'd seen had taken a lot of power to both develop and institute. Power was the key, central to everything.
Fourth: There was nothing in their training to handle this situation. The only power not corrupted was brainpower.
The first priority was to recover Alexander Waverly.
With his thoughts in order, Illya took a step back, turned on the flashlight and carefully studied the room's every detail. If Napoleon's train of thought was on the same track, what would be his first step? Per their training, that step would be to escape.
With this in mind, he angled the light up and noted a shift in a ceiling panel housing the air shaft - the size of the shaft being a long time security concern they'd discussed before. A crooked smile touched the corner of his mouth; he and his partner were on the same wavelength. He was looking for Waverly, and now Kuryakin knew exactly what his own role was. Illya turned and strode from the room and knelt by Slater.
"Can you move?"
Slater grit his teeth and sat up with a groan. "I'll do my best."
"Can you get to the ammo room and load up with portable explosives? We will need to blast doors to get outside since the power is compromised."
The injured agent nodded once. "When Security gets here, we'll proceed. Where do we take them?"
"Bring them to me in the labs." Illya stood, cocked his head and pointed at Dr. Baitman, shivering against the hallway wall. "You, with me." Kuryakin took a step, immediately noting that Baitman hadn't budged. He grabbed the Doctor's arm and dragged him in his wake. "Don't dawdle."
Sputtering, Baitman found his feet and followed, waving his sorry flashlight ahead. They turned a corner and ran into a pair of wide-eyed Security officers. Illya recognized that they, too, were woefully unprepared for the things they'd faced, and stopped them to focus their efforts.
"You help Slater back there," he pointed behind him and then turned to the other officer, "and you head to the map room. I have no doubt Solo is there. When he's finished, both of you join me in the lab. Now go."
With relieved nods, the men split to follow the much needed orders. Illya noted that they, too, seemed glad to finally have some direction.
"Let's go." He continued down the hall with Dr. Baitman.
"What's your plan?" Baitman puffed, sounding a bit more focused as he gathered his scattered wits.
Illya's voice dropped to the point where Baitman had to strain to hear. "I am sure we are being monitored, so I will be brief. Remember Dr. Brown's Flux Capacitor?"
They jogged through strangely empty corridors, their weak flashlights barely lighting the way. Illya acknowledged the occasional agent guarding doors with a simple nod as they moved past them. Baitman's mind clicked into gear as they travelled. The device Kuryakin mentioned was under construction, based on some papers retrieved from a home in Hill Valley, California, in the 1950s when a Dr. Emmitt Brown disappeared under mysterious circumstances from a makeshift lab in his home. There were many interesting devices in the shop, but the most intriguing item was a drawing of what was labeled as a "Flux Capacitor".
"You've thought of a use for that?" Baitman whispered.
In the darkness, Kuryakin's quick smile brightened the mood. "Oh yes. It will need some modification, though. That's where you come in."
*******
Napoleon dropped from the air vent onto a long table, and his feet flew out from under him scattering papers like wind- blown leaves. He landed hard on his butt. "OOF!" he breathed, bracing with his arms to keep from toppling off the surface. He took a moment to ascertain that no ghostly figures had followed him.
As soon as he caught his breath, he rolled aside and made his way to the large wall map of New York. He dug his failing flashlight from his pocket and shined it on the map, taking a second to mourn the frayed spot on his sleeve from the brief yet painful encounter with the ghost of Lucia Belmont. Where ever these entities were getting their power, it was enough to sting.
"Let's see," he muttered, his finger hovering over the map. Although the glimpse he'd seen on the computer monitor of Waverly's location was a vast area, he also recognized that it was in a rugged area outside the city. The map showed open land, public parkland, and mountains. As he studied the area in flickering light, he combed his memories of past cases and associated addresses. None were in the area indicated. He reordered his thought process.
Whoever had Waverly was orchestrating this attack, that much they knew from Beldon's "ghost". All of this was a very busy distraction that required substantial power to both build and initiate. His eyes scanned the area, dismissing those that were undeveloped. He also applied his known capabilities and past performances of Waverly's location device, and shaved off another section. He was left with a remote valley that offered about three square miles of useable land and also happened to be in the path of major power lines.
"Voila," he muttered. "That would supply enough juice."
Napoleon felt around for a magnifying glass and found one in the desk of Maisey Oden, a mature woman who was vain enough to avoid glasses of any sort. He snorted at the find - it wasn't really a surprise. He caught her once or twice trying to hide the glass when he'd arrived unexpectedly. He turned Maisey's glass on the map and in the sputtering beam of his flashlight, found what he sought. His light died at the same time someone pounded on the door. Ghosts didn't bother knocking.
"Agent Solo?" a voice called. "I've been sent to help!"
Napoleon grinned. Finally, things were going his way.
********
Working from memory, Illya dragged what he needed from various parts of the lab. Baitman, busy making a copper coil that dwarfed the room, eyed the items as they were assembled. He, too, had no doubt that they were being monitored, so as Kuryakin requested, he kept quiet. Finally, though, his scientific curiosity overwhelmed him, and he stopped and sidled up to the busy agent.
"You're modifying it?"
"Yes," Illya said lowly. "I am configuring it to be a Flash Capacitor. Fluxing energy won't work. I need an instant flash." Nimble fingers soldered wires from the harvested computer capacitors, daisy chaining them together. A row of generator batteries stood by, ready to be added to the line.
"You will need a switch, right?"
"With a timer, yes. We need to have some distance when this engages."
Baitman studied the set up for a moment, then his face brightened. "You're making a . . ."
"Quiet!" Kuryakin snapped. Then he leaned in and whispered, "I've grown tired of being herded like a sheep, and we don't have time to locate their device. Kill the power, kill the device. An electromagnetic pulse is the only answer."
"But we won't have power, either," Baitman pointed out.
Illya reached for the copper tail of the coil and began soldering it to the capacitor. "Even playing field, then," he stated flatly.
*****
Between the two of them, the less than sturdy door to the map room finally gave way to Solo and the Security officer. They then jogged through the halls toward the labs.
"What next?" The officer asked as they followed his light beam.
"If I know my Russians," Solo replied, "I'm sure the next step will be somewhat explosive."
"Good to know, sir." The officer sounded apprehensive.
They reached the lab and stepped through the demolished doorway. Solo eyed his busy partner. "Looks like you have a plan?"
Illya stepped back, dragging Baitman with him. "Yes. You know where Waverly is?"
"I have a good idea, yes."
Just then, Slater and the other Security officer rounded the corner. The officer carried a large bundle, and Illya took it from him and split the explosives with Solo. He quickly summed up his expected results, and made sure the officers knew what their jobs were in the aftermath. Then, he flipped a jury-rigged switch.
"Then let's go," Illya said. "We have five minutes to clear the area." He directed Slater and the two Security men to clear the floor, then, hugging the bundle to his chest, indicated to Solo that it was time to leave.
"Tired of being pushed around?" Napoleon asked, his tone amused.
"Most definitely."
They hit the stairwell and made it to the bottom floor before encountering apparitions.
Mother Fear coalesced from a dark fog, shoulder to shoulder with Navarone. Both sets of eyes glowered with hatred. Navarone lifted an arm and a bolt shot from her fingertips toward Illya. He ducked, but the strike to his shoulder bounced him off the wall. Somehow, he managed to hang on to his explosive bundle.
Solo, well aware of the explosives clutched to his own chest, prepared to evade, but the vengeful specters remained focused on Kuryakin and all he could do was watch in horror.
Mother Fear took a step toward the downed agent, raised her arm, and a sparking, crackling version of a bull whip circled once before uncurling toward it target. The tip flashed blindingly when it connected with Illya's hip, and he yelped in pain. The specters smiled evilly, and the whip curled back for another strike.
Suddenly, an odd, hard thrum shook the walls and massaged Solo's bones, and then, in an instant, the spirits blinked out of existence and the halls became shrouded in blackness. All power vanished.
Solo paused a moment to orient himself. "Illya?" he called. "ILLYA?"
A low groan preceded rustling noises as Kuryakin moved, and he gave a gritted reply. "Stop shouting."
Solo made his way to his partner's side and pulled Illya to an upright, seated position. "You okay?"
"I will be." He shifted to stand, hissing.
"Good thing they missed the explosives."
"Small favors," Illya growled.
"I take it that you are responsible for all this darkness?"
"Yes. I managed to assemble an EMP. All electronics in the area are non functional."
Napoleon helped him to stand and they felt their way to the exit. "Whatever that is, it evened the playing field."
"That was my thinking, yes."
"Glad to see you are finally thinking like me." He couldn't see the withering look sent his way. Napoleon gathered the rest of the explosives from the floor. "We'll need to blast through two doors to get outside. You've done your part, so now its my turn to have some fun."
"Fair enough."
Napoleon blasted through two doors and a closet wall to make it into Del Floria's small shop. When they peered through the remaining window to the outside, they could barely made out the Thrush-armed, fake police outside. It was as black outside as it was inside, and the group milled around in confusion, reluctant to enter the shop.
"Looks like your power play took out more than the building," Solo murmured.
Illya squinted. "Huh. I might have over played my hand."
It was total darkness as far as their eyes could see. The one positive for them was that the night vision devices on the Thrush rifles would be useless. The two agents pulled their weapons. Illya moved stiffly and still lacked complete use of his left arm.
"Ready?" Napoleon whispered.
Before Illya could reply, gunfire erupted outside. The Thrushmen regrouped and scrambled for cover. The two agents broke the glass and joined the fray, driving the henchmen back. Solo saw muzzle flash to his left and swung his gun arm around.
"Whoa, mate!" Mark's familiar voice penetrated the darkness. "Good guy!"
They managed to drive off the opposition and in the sudden quiet, April called to them. "Come on out!"
Napoleon and Illya staggered through the doorway and up the flight of stairs to the street, where they met April and Mark. It took a minute to ensure their well being and relative safety, and then Napoleon briefed the newcomers on the events of UNCLE HQ.
"You did this?" April asked, waving at the dark street.
"Yes, and we are now free to recover Mr. Waverly," Illya said.
She looked at him for a long second. "You have no idea, do you?"
Solo frowned. "About what?"
"The entire city is out, along with the main power station two blocks over. It powers the Eastern seaboard."
It took a moment for the gravity of the situation to sink in.
"You get the paperwork on this one, Tovarich," Solo said to his partner. "Now let's get Waverly and go home."
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no subject
Date: 2016-10-23 10:28 pm (UTC)I loved the Dr Brown contribution; and Maisey Oden was a good touch.
I must quote both "If I know my Russians," Solo replied, "I'm sure the next step will be somewhat explosive." and taking a second to mourn the frayed spot on his sleeve.
no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 12:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-23 10:58 pm (UTC)Can't wait to see what happens next and how this all ends.
no subject
Date: 2016-10-23 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 12:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-23 11:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 12:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 12:02 am (UTC)Great chapter!
no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 12:53 am (UTC)Once more, excellent job on this chapter. The UNCLE car is looking more like a Delorean than ever ;)
no subject
Date: 2016-10-24 01:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-10-26 04:39 am (UTC)Oh, and kudos to the flux capacitor. Who knew our lovely Illya was responsible for that famous blackout!
Well done!