The UNCLE agents ran towards their car, pulling the sputtering Scot along between them. If the man wouldn’t fire a gun then he’d better duck and run. At least, that’s what Napoleon was thinking as he pulled out his keys with his left hand while sending a THRUSH gunman into some bushes with his keen aim.
Illya pushed the other blond into the cramped vehicle, wondering not for the first time whose idea it had been to design something this impractical for the spy business. As luck (or the lack of it) would have it, Illya stepped back momentarily as Ducky was being shoved into the silver car, allowing the miniscule chance that he could be hit. And he was. The Scotsman yelped as his shoulder took a bullet, to which Illya replied with two shots into the crowd from which it had come, sending two more THRUSH to the ground.
That depleted their ranks sufficiently for the three men to get away from the scene as the patrons and staff of the diner peered out from the dingy eatery, all of them mired in awe and disbelief, and more than a little tinge of fear.
( the double blond test... )