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Short Affair - The New Guys - Part Three
Jan. 18th, 2021 11:21 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
pfrye.livejournal.comThaw, Lecture, Blue
Eric Richfeld entered the stairwell to make his way down to the gym. After the horrible lecture he had to endure from Napoleon Solo he hadn’t wanted to show his face anywhere at Headquarters. As he continued down the sitars he stumbled over an object in the dark. He bent down and discovered it was a body, a bag over their head. He quickly pulled the bag off and gasped as he noted the blond hair and gray face of Illya Kuryakin.
Richfeld opened his communicator and called in the emergency. “Agent down, stairwell three, level four. Medical team STAT!”
Illya wasn’t breathing, Eric turned him on his back and began rescue breathing and chest compression. He could feel a tingling on his lips as he breathed into the Russian agent’s lax mouth. A loud noise alerted him to the arrival of others and the medical team. Eric continued his first aid.
“What the hell happened?” Eric heard Napoleon’s voice yell right behind him. The medical team pushed him away and clamped an oxygen mask on Illya’s face as they manhandled him onto a gurney and started rapidly up the stairs.
Eric sat his back to the wall, his lips burning. He looked up at Solo standing over him. “I found him here, he wasn’t breathing and he had this,” holding the bag up for Napoleon to see, “over his head.”
Napoleon grabbed the bag and turned it for Eric to see. Stenciled near the top was the name Eric Richfeld. “Care to explain this?”
Eric shook his head, “It’s mine. I use it to carry my dirty gym clothes home to wash. I don’t know how it got here.”
Napoleon sniffed the bag. “It’s got some sort of chemical on it.”
“I know my lips are burning from the rescue breathing.”
“We’d better get you to medical and your gym bag to the labs so they can discover what’s on it.”
“I’m not arrested?”
“You were trying to save Illya. If you had ulterior motives you wouldn’t have called for medical, or tried to help. But as far as anyone else is concerned you are arrested. I want to find out who did this, and quick.”
**************************
Napoleon waited outside the room where medical was working on his partner. He had left Richfeld in another room and sent Mark Slate down to the labs with the gym bag. He had let it be known that Richfeld was under suspicion of attacking Illya and confined in medical.
Doctor Taylor opened the door and motioned Napoleon inside. Napoleon felt his anger rise as he saw his partner. Illya was breathing but was still on oxygen. His face was pale and had red burn marks on it from the chemical, which had turned out to be a caustic cleaner used in the gym. He also had bruises on his neck. Blue and purple hand prints where someone had tried to strangle him. Dr. Taylor frowned, “it’s good he was found when he was, the cleaner could have gotten into his lungs and burned them more than it did. That could have ended his career with Section Two.”
“Will he be alright?”
“I’m sure Agent Kuryakin will be demanding to leave within a couple of days. In the meantime we are keeping him sedated in order to not put any strain on his lungs.”
****************************
Napoleon made his report to Mr. Waverly.
“Someone attacked Illya, putting a chemical soaked gym bag over his head and then tried to strangle him. If agent Richfeld hadn't literally stumbled over him he might have died or at the very least had his lungs damaged to the point he couldn’t be an active agent.”
Mr. Waverly gestured with his pipe. “The bag belonged to agent Richfeld, one of the new recruits?”
“Yes sir, he and Illya had a run in at the gym and I read him and his friends the riot act for their behavior.”
“Yet you don’t think Mr. Richfeld was responsible?”
“No I don’t. I gave him another chance to straighten out. He was so hot under the collar I suspect he could thaw an iceberg. To be honest though I think he was mad at himself, not me or Illya. He let his ego get the best of him and was ashamed.”
“Who do you think was the culprit then?”
“I don’t know sir, but I intend to find out.”
Eric Richfeld entered the stairwell to make his way down to the gym. After the horrible lecture he had to endure from Napoleon Solo he hadn’t wanted to show his face anywhere at Headquarters. As he continued down the sitars he stumbled over an object in the dark. He bent down and discovered it was a body, a bag over their head. He quickly pulled the bag off and gasped as he noted the blond hair and gray face of Illya Kuryakin.
Richfeld opened his communicator and called in the emergency. “Agent down, stairwell three, level four. Medical team STAT!”
Illya wasn’t breathing, Eric turned him on his back and began rescue breathing and chest compression. He could feel a tingling on his lips as he breathed into the Russian agent’s lax mouth. A loud noise alerted him to the arrival of others and the medical team. Eric continued his first aid.
“What the hell happened?” Eric heard Napoleon’s voice yell right behind him. The medical team pushed him away and clamped an oxygen mask on Illya’s face as they manhandled him onto a gurney and started rapidly up the stairs.
Eric sat his back to the wall, his lips burning. He looked up at Solo standing over him. “I found him here, he wasn’t breathing and he had this,” holding the bag up for Napoleon to see, “over his head.”
Napoleon grabbed the bag and turned it for Eric to see. Stenciled near the top was the name Eric Richfeld. “Care to explain this?”
Eric shook his head, “It’s mine. I use it to carry my dirty gym clothes home to wash. I don’t know how it got here.”
Napoleon sniffed the bag. “It’s got some sort of chemical on it.”
“I know my lips are burning from the rescue breathing.”
“We’d better get you to medical and your gym bag to the labs so they can discover what’s on it.”
“I’m not arrested?”
“You were trying to save Illya. If you had ulterior motives you wouldn’t have called for medical, or tried to help. But as far as anyone else is concerned you are arrested. I want to find out who did this, and quick.”
**************************
Napoleon waited outside the room where medical was working on his partner. He had left Richfeld in another room and sent Mark Slate down to the labs with the gym bag. He had let it be known that Richfeld was under suspicion of attacking Illya and confined in medical.
Doctor Taylor opened the door and motioned Napoleon inside. Napoleon felt his anger rise as he saw his partner. Illya was breathing but was still on oxygen. His face was pale and had red burn marks on it from the chemical, which had turned out to be a caustic cleaner used in the gym. He also had bruises on his neck. Blue and purple hand prints where someone had tried to strangle him. Dr. Taylor frowned, “it’s good he was found when he was, the cleaner could have gotten into his lungs and burned them more than it did. That could have ended his career with Section Two.”
“Will he be alright?”
“I’m sure Agent Kuryakin will be demanding to leave within a couple of days. In the meantime we are keeping him sedated in order to not put any strain on his lungs.”
****************************
Napoleon made his report to Mr. Waverly.
“Someone attacked Illya, putting a chemical soaked gym bag over his head and then tried to strangle him. If agent Richfeld hadn't literally stumbled over him he might have died or at the very least had his lungs damaged to the point he couldn’t be an active agent.”
Mr. Waverly gestured with his pipe. “The bag belonged to agent Richfeld, one of the new recruits?”
“Yes sir, he and Illya had a run in at the gym and I read him and his friends the riot act for their behavior.”
“Yet you don’t think Mr. Richfeld was responsible?”
“No I don’t. I gave him another chance to straighten out. He was so hot under the collar I suspect he could thaw an iceberg. To be honest though I think he was mad at himself, not me or Illya. He let his ego get the best of him and was ashamed.”
“Who do you think was the culprit then?”
“I don’t know sir, but I intend to find out.”
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