section7mfu | "Hope" for the Short Affair Challenge (Reply)

Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word #2 – Hope

-Prompt Colour – Orange

Author: mrua7

Title: ‘Hope’

Word count: approx. 740

Hope. It was a word that was preeminent in the vocabulary of an UNCLE field agent.

They would hope the intelligence they were given was accurate, they would hope they wouldn’t be captured, tortured or killed. They hoped they’d live to see another day and be able to start the good fight all over again.

At this exact moment Solo and Kuryakin had, for all intents and purposes, run out of hope.

As orange and yellow flames licked towards them, enveloping the hallway in which they stood; they found themselves trapped.

“Napoleon I think I am right in concluding that we are going to die,” Illya said.

“There you go, being a fatalist again tovarisch. Still I think for once you might be right,” Napoleon sighed.” Not exactly the way I was hoping to go.”

“And that was?”

“In a blaze of glory, making love in bed with a beautiful woman.”

“Well you have the blaze part at least.”

“Thank you for the brilliant observation,” Solo groused,” but maybe..”

They were three flights up, and the only way out at the end of the hall was a large picture window.

Illya spotted his partner eyeing it.

“You do realize that once the window is smashed, the air will add fuel to the fire. We would have but seconds to jump as the flames will billow towards us and, “ he paused,” on the other hand fall will most likely kill us.”

“You don’t have to tell me that tovarisch.”

Napoleon looked out the window to the ground below. “Well dying down there is better than being burned to a crisp up here. At least it’ll be quick.”

“Now who is being the fatalist,” Illya said.” Still I agree with your conclusion.”

The window was large enough to allow both of them to get through it at the same time; they just had to smash it and do it fast.

Both men looked upwards as flames began to spread to the ceiling above them.

“On the count of three,” Napoleon barked with a hoarse voice, as the smoke was getting to him.

Suddenly the flames reached out as if to grab them, and definintely coming too close for comfort.

“Three!” Illya shouted and they dove through the window pane together, sending shards of glass scattering in the air about them.

As gravity took over, a huge ball of flame shot through the opening behind them, yet a backdraft created by it sucked the flames inwards in for a brief moment before the fire shot out again and began to spread up the outside of the building.

Napoleon and Illya hit hard, fortuitously landing in a dumpster full of trash. They hadn’t see it from their vantage point three flights up and it came as a welcome end; not the one they’d both expected.

“Damn,” Solo cursed. He pulled at the shoulder of his suit, finding it sliced, most likely from the window glass.

They were both covered in trash and had mirror images of trickling blood from small gashes on their heads, but other than that they were unharmed.

“I think your sliced suit is the least of your worries,” Illya said, as he pulled a dirty diaper away from his partner’s jacket. “Now it is my turn to call you stinky.” The Russian gave a nervous chuckle.

“Oh Joy,” Napoleon crinkled his nose.”Let’s get out of here before the fire department arrives.”

They jumped down from the dumpster, brushing the remnants of lettuce and other bits of food from their clothing.

“So this is going to be an interesting report to file for Mr. Waverly,” Illya said as they trotted side by side down an alleyway towards the street.

“Interesting in what way? We barely got out with our lives and we’re coming back empty handed.

“Ah but you speak too soon my friend.” Kuryakin pulled a small envelope from his jacket pocket.

Napoleon’s eyes widened. “You got the codes?”

“I managed it, yes.”

“That’s a relief. Great job,” Napoleon smiled.”Still, you haven’t answered my question about what’s going to be so interesting to report to the Old Man.”

“Oh just how you are going to explain yet ruining another suit. I believe you have exceeded your allotment for the month.”

“Oh gee thanks for reminding me….hmm, maybe Del can fix this one,” Napoleon poked at the slice in his jacket.

“Good idea, though it may need to be fumigated as well.”

“Very funny Kuryakin, very funny.”

“I was not trying to be funny. Napoleon, honestly you do smell awful.”

“Gee, thanks a lot tovarisch.”

“As always, you are welcome my friend,” Illya gave his partner is usual deadpan look.