![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)

Napoleon was bored, he’d spent the last four hours going through a stack of reports left on his desk, he looked across to where Illya usually sat, but the Russian’s place was empty.
‘Just like him to find an excuse in order to avoid helping me with these reports.’ Solo thought to himself.
Sighing he looked at the pile of ‘to do’s’ but couldn’t face another minute of reading through the files. Lifting the receiver, he dialled the number for Communications.
“Mandy, can you tell me where Mr. Kuryakin is please?”
“Certainly Napoleon, if you could just hold for a minute,” she simpered.
“He’s down in the firing range,” she answered after a few more seconds.
‘I wonder what he’s doing there,’ he thought before replying, “thank you Mandy, you’re a sweetheart.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied breathlessly.
Solo smiled as he put the handset back in its cradle, he wondered what her reaction would be if he asked her for a date. Capping his pen, he left to see what his partner was up to.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Illya was reloading his special with live rounds, snapping the cartridge home; then holding the gun in a double handed grip, he fired all eight rounds towards the target.
Solo watched the whole scene on the monitor in the outer room as he waited for the safety light to turn green, indicating that it was safe to enter the firing range. He was surprised to see that not a single bullet reached its destination; it was unusual, as the Russian was an excellent shot, and Napoleon wondered why his friend had missed.
Finally he received the all clear and entered.
“Having an off day, tovarisch?”
“No, Napoleon, if you look closer, there is a barrier between me and the target.”
The American now saw a section of glass with marks where the projectiles had struck it, spidery fingers spreading across the surface.
“Ah, I see now, what’s it for?”
“Mr. Waverly asked me to develop a type of strengthened glass, preferably bullet proof.”
“So that’s why you’ve been disappearing so often, I was beginning to think you were just trying to avoid helping me with the paperwork.”
Illya grinned, “there is that too.”
“So what’s the Old Man intending to do with this wonder glass?”
“He wants to install it in several strategic locations to act as a barrier in case of any attack.”
“I’d like to see THRUSH try; it’s like Fort Knox, getting in here if you don’t have the right clearances.”
“Never the less, this is what he wants, they are to slide into place along important corridors in case of an emergency.”
“So, have you perfected it then?”
“Da, I think so, though I have only tested small sections of the glass to see if the formula works, larger sheets will have to be thicker, I need to test one at full size to make sure it behaves in the same way, we do not want it to shatter.”
“When will you be able to do that?”
“Now, I have one set up in the next booth.”
“Mind if I stay to watch?”
“Certainly, my friend.”
Illya loaded his weapon for a second time and took aim once more and fired. This time only one bullet left his special. The Russian let out a yell as his hand flew to his chest and he collapsed to the floor, blood seeping through his fingers.
Immediately, Napoleon hit the emergency button, shouting for the medics before kneeling down and applying pressure to the wound.
“Hold on, Illya, help’s on its way.” Solo said as his friend lost consciousness.
It seemed an eternity waiting for them to arrive, but was, in fact, only three minutes, they quickly set to work to stabilise Kuryakin before moving him to surgery.
The American paced the corridor waiting for news of his friend; forty minutes after they arrived, the pale blond was wheeled out of the operating theatre and into a side room.
“How is he doctor?” Napoleon asked.
“Lucky, the slug missed all his vital organs; he’ll be out for a while, but he’s going to be okay.”
“Thanks, that’s a relief.”
Solo settled himself in the plastic chair next to Illya’s bed and waited for his friend to come round. Several hours later a groan woke him and he looked up to see blue eyes gazing at him.
“Agh, what happened? I feel like I have been hit by a train.”
“You were testing your wonder glass, a bullet ricoched and hit you in the chest.”
“I remember now. I guess I need to go back to the drawing board. Not too good if the bullets bounce off it.”
“Well it’s one way of dealing with THRUSH, if they get hit by their own shots.” Solo grinned.
The Russian laughed, then groaned, “please do not make me laugh, it hurts.”
“I’ll try not to. Get some rest, I’ll come back later.”
“Da, and bring something to eat with you please?”
The American smiled, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Kuryakin wasn’t in Medical for long before he was demanding to be released. Reluctantly, the doctor discharged him, he knew that it would do no good keeping the stubborn Russian in bed, but gave strict instructions to Napoleon not to let him over do it, to make sure Illya finished his prescribed course of drugs and took his painkillers.
Grumbling, the Russian accepted the conditions and made his way to his lab. He’d been thinking about the problem and believed he knew what had gone wrong, it was too tough and instead of the toughened glass absorbing the impact , the shot had bounced off.
After three days Kuryakin was ready to test a full size sheet again. This time Solo thought it best to err on the side of caution and they set up a remote control to fire the gun while they were out of the room.
“Okay on one. Three, two, one,” the American counted down.
Illya pressed the button and seconds later the weapon fired, this time successfully, happy with the results, he let lose the remaining shots.
Once the firing range was declared safe, they entered and examined the impact marks; this time there was no bounce back and the glass behaved as it was intended.
“Well, I think you have succeeded this time, tovarisch.”
“Da, thank you my friend; if you had not come when you had, it might have been a different story.”
“I will always have your back, my friend.”
“You never know, this glass my even save your life one day.” Illya grinned.
Never were truer words spoken. Three weeks later, after the panels had been installed, THRUSH managed to gain entry and the protective sheets were used for the first time, all four shots fired at Napoleons heart were stopped allowing Solo to gain an advantage and deal with the would be assassin.
.