The 'Correspondence' Affair #26 - April 21, 1913 (Millicent to Alexander)

[avirra.livejournal.com]

From : Venice, Italy

April 21, 1913

My dearest Alexander,

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SNAPSHOTS~ "A breath of Fresh Air"

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Napoleon lay on a stainless steel table, his arms stretched and tied above his head.

It was getting harder to breathe as the air was being sucked out of the chamber little by little. He looked upwards to the glass ceiling panel seeing the man who’d captured him,Dr. Lothario Rex, laughing away.

What he couldn’t see was his partner, the Russian, was handcuffed to a chair just out of view next to the doctor.

“All right Mr. Kuryakin, it’s up to you. Either you tell me what I want to know, or your friend Mr. Solo slowly suffocates to death.

“Trust me when I say, he is not my friend,” the Russian answered blandly.

“Come come Mr. Kuryakin, we at T.H.R.U.S.H. all know of your close friendship with Mr. Solo, perhaps one too close?”

“Oh please do not start that nonsense...we are not lovers if that is what you are hinting,” Illya deliberately allowed his emotions to color that comment.

“Really, that’s not what our agent Tamis Voudrais said. *

“Good God man, that babbling idiot? I would think your Central would take what she says with a grain, no, several grains of salt. She is about as intelligent as a slug.”

“Don’t hold anything back will you Mr. Kuryakin,” Rex laughed, “Your candor is a breath of fresh air.”

“Speaking of air, would it not be wiser to prolong the life of Napoleon Solo? Would he not be more valuable alive to  Central?”

“You are most amusing,” Rex continued to laugh. “You realize if I let him live, then I, sadly, must get the information from you in a more uncomfortable fashion.

“Do what you must.”

The doctor turned the control valve, sending more oxygen into the sealed room where Solo was barely conscious.

With a quick turn, Rex slammed his fist into the Russians jaw, sending his head turning violently to one side.

Illya spat blood, flashing a feral smile at the man. “If that is the best you can do, then you are in for a big disappointment. I would suggest you...”

At that moment there was a loud crash, as Solo had somehow climbed up to the viewing window, broke through and launched himself on top of Dr. Rex.

One quick karate chop to the man’s neck knocked him out.

“You okay tovarisch?”

“I am now,” Illya answered calmly.

.

* re “That’s Life” :https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7477152/1/That-s-Life

Honour Your Father

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

“Illyusha! Come out now! Your Papa is leaving and you must say goodbye.”

From his hiding place in the tree, eight year old Illya Nickovitch watched as his mother scoured the village for him. Sniffing loudly, he wiped his nose along his sleeve. His Mama would admonish him if she saw him doing it, but he had forgotten to bring a handkerchief. Illya had been told, the week previously, that his father was going away with the army and from that moment the boy had avoided his Papa.

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