The Congo Affair chapter 6 "I think we are dead me"

[mlaw]

 link to chapter five: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/262573.html


                            


It was just before sunset when they approached the kraal protecting the village's herd of cattle and as Napoleon and Illya began pulling away part of the thorny wall of sticks and branches protecting them, the beasts began to moo nervously.

"Hurry,"Illya whispered, that noise may bring the villagers sooner than want."

Once the opening was made wide enough in the enclosure, the two agents threw stones at the small herd, startling them into stampeding out through their newly made way of escape.

The gates to the village opened and large group of men came running, hearing the panicked animals, thinking they were being attacked by a lion in the twilight.

 

The agents slipped headed inside the village, ducking back behind the huts and keeping out of view from the women and the elderly men who stood in the village center, voicing their concerns over the cattle.

Napoleon and Illya slipped into one of larger huts, ensuring it was empty before they did so. The Solo luck was with them as they'd hit the jackpot, finding tins of food, fresh fruit, rice and smoked meats hanging from the ceiling,

Illya grabbed a burlap sack he found laying to the side, and the two agents filled it as much as they dared without the loss being noticed. They held their breath, as they turned to exit the hut when an older woman and a child stepped through the door.

She let out a blood curdling scream, as did the frightened child.

Napoleon desperately tried speaking French to her "N'ayez pas peur, s'il vous plaît? Nous avons faim et nous allons vous payer pour la nourriture_don't be afraid, please? We are hungry, and we'll pay you for the food."

It did no good as she turned and ran, calling out, presumably for help as she dragged the crying child with her.

Napoleon and Illya dashed out the door, still hanging onto their supplies, but came to a dead stop when they were confronted with a half dozen men wielding machetes, spears and several old carbine rifles.

The agents dropped the burlap bag between them, placing their interlocked hands on top of their heads and were immediately relieved of their weapons. Their hands were bound behind their backs as they were carted off to another hut. There they were shoved inside to the dirt floor, while the villagers seemed to be arguing amongst themselves outside of the hut.

"For once I need your linguistic skills, and you let me down," Napoleon half joked.

"Sorry, I am not a world almanac of languages, though at times you seem to think I am,' Illya jabbed back at him, while he struggled with his bindings. "This plan did not go as well as hoped."

"Oh and I suppose you're trying to blame me?

"No Napoleon, there is no finger-pointing on my part," Illya sighed.

"Speaking of finger pointing...well sort of? How are you doing on your ropes?" Napoleon asked.

"They are becoming looser. I should be out of them shortly, and you?"

"Mine are as tight as a boa constrictor."

"Once I am free..." Illya silenced himself as several of the men returned, abruptly pulling he and Napoleon up from the floor.

"Whoa, take it easy there big guy!" The American protested for all the good it did.

"You come wit us. Take you Simba. They fix you good," one of them said in broken English.

"Peachy," Napoleon mumbled.

"Yes, out of the frying pan and into the flames," Illya quipped.

"Fire chum, that's out of the frying pan into the fire."

"Are not flames fire?"

"You know what, you're right," Napoleon's tone of voice was apologetic. Given their circumstances, what was the point of bothering his partner about semantics.

They were dragged outside and pushed into a dilapidated jeep and Illya's eyes met his partner's, as they were filled with concern. Napoleon's eyes, however, were looking ever confident.

"Don't worry tovarisch, we'll get out of this. Stop being so worried."

"I cannot help it, worrying is my job. It is in my nature. You are interminably optimistic, and that I do not understand. Napoleon, I think we are going to die."

"Hey just because I'm being optimistic doesn't mean that thought hasn't crossed my mind." He tried to shrug.

"Quiet!" Their guard brandished Napoleon's Special, waving it at them.

"We are dead men," Illya mouthed, nodding his head and giving his friend that 'I told you so' look..

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