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section7mfulink to chapter 7: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/197235.html
He woke, finding himself in the backseat of a black sedan motoring off to who knows where. His eyes were blindfolded, but he pulled the cloth down in spite of his hands being tied. The sounds of the city were gone, and all he could see was a green tree-lined rural road.
“Oh, so you’re finally awake...Mr. Kuryakin," said a rather rough-looking man who was pointing an odd looking rifle with some sort of red scope attached to the stock.
“I beg your pardon, but I am not this Mr. Kuryakin. You’ve made a terrible mistake my good man.”
“They said you were a tricky one, real good at lying.” He snickered at the Russian." Do you really think I'm that stupid."
"How could I think that? I don't even know you. Now just who is this Kuryakin fellow, maybe I could help you find him and get this mess straightened out...but then again, maybe not,” he mumbled, nervously eying the rifle and rethinking his suggestion.
“Quit you’re tricks Kuryakin. We know you were following our courier and now that we’ve gotten you out of the way, that’s one less U.N.C.L.E. agent we’ll have to worry about.”
“Uncle? Whose Uncle? And will you answer my bloody question...who is this Kuryakin?”
“Shut your trap,” the man slammed the rifle into his stomach.
He let out a yell, gasping for breath. “Please don’t do that again? I tell you, you’ve made a mistake my name is...”
“Shut up or I’ll shut you up with another dose of drugs.”
“What drugs, what did you give me?”
“Standard T.H.R.U.S.H. formula. You have a headache yet?”
“No, no headache. Why? And what in heavens name does a bird have to do with it?
“Because I was told you always got really bad headaches from our sleep formulas.”
He shook his head, asking himself "Why didn't he stay with his friends and to out drinking, or with that lovely girl Shirley, then none of this would have happened to him.” He tried taking a deep calming breath.
The sedan hit a rather large pothole in the road, tossing about the occupants in rear of the car.
One of the doors flew open, and though the prisoner’s hands were tied, it was his one opportunity to escape and he took it, throwing himself out to the ground and rolling as he hit it.
Paratrooper training had finally come in handy as he disappeared into a roadside ditch.
He woke, finding himself in the backseat of a black sedan motoring off to who knows where. His eyes were blindfolded, but he pulled the cloth down in spite of his hands being tied. The sounds of the city were gone, and all he could see was a green tree-lined rural road.
“Oh, so you’re finally awake...Mr. Kuryakin," said a rather rough-looking man who was pointing an odd looking rifle with some sort of red scope attached to the stock.
“I beg your pardon, but I am not this Mr. Kuryakin. You’ve made a terrible mistake my good man.”
“They said you were a tricky one, real good at lying.” He snickered at the Russian." Do you really think I'm that stupid."
"How could I think that? I don't even know you. Now just who is this Kuryakin fellow, maybe I could help you find him and get this mess straightened out...but then again, maybe not,” he mumbled, nervously eying the rifle and rethinking his suggestion.
“Quit you’re tricks Kuryakin. We know you were following our courier and now that we’ve gotten you out of the way, that’s one less U.N.C.L.E. agent we’ll have to worry about.”
“Uncle? Whose Uncle? And will you answer my bloody question...who is this Kuryakin?”
“Shut your trap,” the man slammed the rifle into his stomach.
He let out a yell, gasping for breath. “Please don’t do that again? I tell you, you’ve made a mistake my name is...”
“Shut up or I’ll shut you up with another dose of drugs.”
“What drugs, what did you give me?”
“Standard T.H.R.U.S.H. formula. You have a headache yet?”
“No, no headache. Why? And what in heavens name does a bird have to do with it?
“Because I was told you always got really bad headaches from our sleep formulas.”
He shook his head, asking himself "Why didn't he stay with his friends and to out drinking, or with that lovely girl Shirley, then none of this would have happened to him.” He tried taking a deep calming breath.
The sedan hit a rather large pothole in the road, tossing about the occupants in rear of the car.
One of the doors flew open, and though the prisoner’s hands were tied, it was his one opportunity to escape and he took it, throwing himself out to the ground and rolling as he hit it.
Paratrooper training had finally come in handy as he disappeared into a roadside ditch.
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Date: 2012-12-28 07:17 am (UTC)Poor little Thrushies...
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Date: 2012-12-28 03:29 pm (UTC)