"No I Won't Back Down"~for the song story challenge on Section 7 4/25

[mlaw]

  Sorry cut isn't working....again.


                                              

Napoleon Solo had been on assignment for just over a month when he received the news, though he simply refused to accept it, and now he stood at a precipice, not literally but figuratively. A decision had to be made, and it was one he didn't want to make.

 

Alexander Waverly told him it was time to take on a new partner, since the passing of Illya Kuryakin at the hands of THRUSH that had taken place several months ago.

There were few times that Solo would question one of Mr. Waverly's decisions, but this would be one of them. He didn't want a new partner, as that would be admitting Illya was indeed dead. He wasn't ready to do that, for his heart of hearts, he felt...no he knew Illya was alive out there, where ever he was?

The Russian had disappeared and was presumed dead while dealing with a supposed satrap on an island somewhere in the South Pacific. At first Napoleon thought him lucky to have garnered the assignment in a lush tropical setting, with all those gorgeous native women. Though knowing Kuryakin, he'd be more fascinated by the flora and fauna, than girls.

He knew the Russian definitely liked women, but Illya's self-control when around them never ceased to amaze the American.

.

Waverly tossed a few files on the conference table, sending them around to his CEA.

"Take a look at these; I want you to choose your own partner this time, rather than me just assigning you one. That much of a courtesy I will give you Mr. Solo."

Napoleon picked up one of the folders, thumbing through it without interest before he let his anger rise to the surface and get the better of him.'

"No sir, I don't think so," he said rather pointedly, sharply tossing the file down to the table.

"You don't think so what, Mr. Solo?" Waverly replied calmly.

"I'm not going to pick a new partner or be assigned one. Illya...Mr. Kuryakin is alive."

"And how do you know this?" The Old Man's bushy eyebrows arched in surprise.

"I can feel it."

"Don't be ridiculous, that's your confounded friendship for this man influencing your instincts. I told you no good would come of the two of you being too familiar with each other. Partnerships are for a working relationship and not this...buddy buddy thing. Now, pick a partner and get over it, young man."

"No sir, I won't back down. I'm standing my ground on this one sir, no disrespect meant." Napoleon sat straight in his chair, looking determined.

"Well you are being disrespectful, to me and to the rules of the Command." Waverly picked up his pipe, contemplating lighting it up to keep himself calm, as even he could let his temper loose at times. This perhaps would be one of them.

"I know I have in the past let you go in search of Mr. Kuryakin, but this time there was evidence he was killed when the satrap blew up, taking out half the island in the process. His weapon was found as well as remnants of clothing containing his identification. There was simply nothing left of him to search for."

"I don't believe he's dead."

"Confound it man, get over it," Waverly pounded his fist on the table.

"There's nothing to get over, Illya Kuryakin is alive. I'm standing my ground on this and won't be turned around," Napoleon answered defiantly.

"That's your final answer?"

"Yes sir it is."

Waverly huffed, not happy at his next decision. "Mr. Solo, you are hereby suspended until further notice. The issue will be taken before Section I in regards to you refusing to comply with a direct order. You realize your career with the Command could be in jeopardy?"

"Yes sir I do, but you can stand me up at the gates of hell if you want, but I'm not backing down on this," Napoleon rose from his seat and without another word, he walked out of Alexander Waverly's conference room.

Would he regret this decision? Perhaps, but he wasn't going give up on his partner; Illya Kuryakin was his best friend, it was as simple as that. Now Napoleon just needed to prove he was right about him being alive and find the missing Russian.

.

A blond man woke, face down in the sand and shaking his throbbing head; he lifted himself up by his arms, finding himself in a near state of undress. with his clothes ripped to shreds. He had no idea why he was in this condition, nor where he was for that matter, and suddenly realized he didn't know who he was either.

His muscles ached as he finally got to his feet, and looking around he could see clouds of acrid smoke lingering in the air. "What happened here?" he asked himself as he walked down the empty strand, not seeing another soul. It hurt with every step he took, and finally grabbing his side, as it was painful to breath; he sat down, not sure what to do.

He laid down feeling exhausted, letting the warmth of the hot sand soothe his aches, and dozed off in a blessed sleep.

Strange dreams filled his head, explosions, gunshots...screams. There was an image of a man, though it was blurry. He was a handsome fellow, with dark hair and what looked like a cleft chin.

The blond awoke with a start as a voice spoke to him.

"Aloha oe," a pretty dark-haired girl was speaking to him. "Mister are you all right?"

He reached up with his hand, shielding his eyes from the sun. "I am not quite sure."

"Were you caught it that big explosion...your clothes sure look like it."

"Honestly I do not know. Where is this place?"

She looked at him rather strangely. "It is Kama Atoll, not far from my island. We took came over by canoe to check things out. The explosion took away half the atoll, like it was a volcanic explosion or something."

"Did you find anyone else alive?"

"Not a soul, you're the only one.." She watched as Illya tried to rise, still in pain.

"You're hurt, please let me help you?"

"No I am fine," for some reason that answer felt very familiar to him as if he'd said it many times over.

He began to swoon and the woman grabbed hold of him, steadying him on his feet. She guided him to the shore line and into one of the waiting canoes, with some of her people helping her.

Their passenger curled up in a ball, trying not to show his pain.

As the canoe was pushed into the water, and paddled underway, a new problem developed in the choppy water. The stranger became seasick, breaking out in a cold sweat and looking paler than he already was.

He was embarrassed by it, and after vomiting over the side, he wiped his mouth with what was left of his shirt sleeve, and closed his eyes as he tried to fight off the nausea. When the canoes finally landed, the men made up a quick stretcher of sorts and carried the poor fellow to one of the huts, where he could be tended to.

At the moment, the best they could manage was to give some herbs to settle his stomach, along with water. The girl who found him, Auli`i, tended to him with wet compresses on his forehead and cleaned his cuts.

Dr. Henderson was on the other side of the island, seeing to the birth of a baby and wouldn't be back for hours and when he finally returned, he was hurried along to help the blond stranger.

Illya Kuryakin was awake by this time, and tried smiling as the grey-haired physician looked over him, finding no serious injuries, just cuts and some very deep bruises. The doctor took a syringe from his medical bag, intending to give his patient something for the pain.

"What is that?" Illya asked.

"Morphine."

"No."

"Why not? You're in pain aren't you?"

"I do not know why, but no painkillers."

"How about some aspirin," the doctor asked gruffly. He was a former American Navy doctor, and after the war he'd returned to the island to marry a girl he'd met there, and there he stayed building a life for himself.

"Yes, aspirin will be fine, thank you." Illya tried not to be rude.

"So I hear a bit of an accent there," Henderson said."Where you from?"

"I do not know, nor do I know my name, I woke up in this state on the beach of one of your nearby islands. There had apparently been an explosion, so from my condition and what was left of my clothes, I think it is safe to say I might have been caught in the concussion."

"Speaking of concussion, how is your head?"

"A little headache."

"Nausea?

"Only when I was seasick."

Henderson smiled at that answer, examining him further, checking pupillary reaction, and doing vision tests.

"No sign of a concussion that I can see. Well you should just take it easy for a few days, and hopefully things will start to come back to you." He patted his patient on the shoulder.

Auli`i came inside to check on Illya. "How is he Uncle Mike?"

"Uncle?" Illya asked, feeling that word was of significance to him.

"Yes, Auli`i  is the daughter of my wife's brother," Henderson answered. "and in answer to your question young lady, I think the patient will make a full recovery, given a little time and some TLC."

"That's good to hear,' she smiled. "Have you remembered your name?"

"Sorry, no."

"Then we have to call you something, we can't just say, 'hey you."

Illya laughed at that, but held his head as doing so made it hurt more. "Then by all means, give me a name please?"

"Well your eyes are what stand out to me, they are a beautiful shade of blue, so I will call you Maka Nani, which means beautiful eyes."

"Thank you, I think?" Illya smiled.

Weeks turned into months, and Maka Nani recovered fully, except for his memory. His dreams were becoming vivid though, and the man with the dark hair and a very beguiling smile haunted him every night.

The blond had a knack for fixing things, especially anything electronic and soon repaired the shortwave radio that was so essential to maintain communications with the outside world. He made himself as useful as he could and in return Dr. Henderson let Illya have at his library, as the man seemed insatiable when it came to knowledge.

There was a monthly supply ship that visited the island and Dr. Henderson suggested Maka Nani take it back to Hawaii, on the off chance things there might help jog his memory.

Illya refused, thinking he needed to remain in the area... the nearby Atoll was of some importance and if anyone, perhaps this dark-haired man, came looking for him, then he needed to stay put.

The island had a small town with general store, a school for the local children, as well as a bar, and high atop one of the hills was a simple white church. Auli`i tried taking Maka Nani there for Sunday services, but he refused, saying he did not believe in God. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he just did.

Instead Illya headed to the bar in town, as he'd become friendly with the proprietor, an old sea dog named Donovan. There while sitting over a couple of warm beers, the man would tell him his stories of the war in the Pacific.

They seemed to bring Maka Nani some recollections when Donovan would talk about the roar on the big guns on the battleships. There was a deep seeded memory of his hearing such loud explosions on the tip of Illya's tongue, but he couldn't place it, like so many other things. Once in awhile he would do or say something that was a reflex, perhaps an old habit, still he had no recollection of why he did or said certain things.

He walked behind the bar to get him and Donovan two more beers, when a pelican flew inside past the saloon doors, slamming right into the blonds back. The beer bottles went flying, exploding everywhere, and he let out a word that wasn't English. "Chyort!" He yelped, but stopped himself, cocking his head to one side and wondering what he'd just said.

"Hey, I know that lingo...that's Russkie. And don't mind Wally there," Donovan said, referring to the pelican." He stops in for a beer once in awhile. Odd sort of bird but he's friendly.

"Bird?" Illya repeated the word, again feeling it had another meaning. He massaged his temple with his fingertips, "Yes that was Russian...and I am Russian, I think."

"Well good on ye mate," a man said, walking into the bar. It was Tommy 'Guns' Hoolihan, Donovans buddy from Australia. "So you remembered something else."

"I guess?" Illya shrugged.

"So maybe you were a seaman on a Russian frigate and fell overboard?" Tommy asked.

"Nah," Donovan chimed in. "He wasn't dressed like no sailor you dope."

"Crikey, now don't start with the name calling mate."

Donovan opened a beer, setting it down loudly on the bar in front of Tommy.

"I wasn't calling you a name, I was stating a fact."

"Oh yeah, well here's a fact for you!" Tommy brought down his beer bottle on top of Donovan's head, and instantly a bar brawl ensued with every patron there suddenly joining in for the hell of it. Illya tried ducking out, but someone grabbed him, taking a swing. He dodged it easily, giving the man a karate chop to the neck. Two more men dove at him and he sent one flying across the room with a roundhouse kick and he dispatched the other with a wicked right uppercut to the jaw.

When he stopped, Donovan and the others were staring at him. "You some sort of Russkie spy or something?"

Illya looked down at his hands, thinking they seemed more like weapons."I do not know? Tell me why do you two, who are supposed to be friends, fight the way you do?"

"Aw, it all started with a hoochie-koochie girl in Manila...long story for another time," Donovan said, getting them more beers while the patrons cleaned up the place.*

Months passed and one day a small freighter, not the monthly supply ship, dropped anchor in the harbor. Men armed with rather strange-looking rifles disembarked and began taking islanders hostage.

Illya was in his hut with Auli`i, the two involved in a heated moment of serious necking. He'd developed an interest in her, and she with him, and they were just in the beginning stages of becoming intimate. Though her family wanted them to marry, for some reason he refused, saying he wasn't allowed, as it was against the rules.

They looked at him, bewildered at that answer, and prayed Auli`i hadn't gotten herself involved with a lunatic.

A man stepped into their hut, pointing a rifle at the couple."Well look who we have here?" He said. "All right Kuraykin, you and the girl stand up slowly."

"Kuryakin?" Illya parotted back.

"Don't play games with me, you know damn well you're Illya Kuryakin from UNCLE. You were the little bastard who blew up half our island along with our satrap. The boss is going to love getting hold of you. Now hands on your head, and no monkey business."

"Let the girl go, since your interest is in me."

"Shut up and get moving." He nudged them along with his rifle barrel.

"Maka Nani, I'm frightened," the girl whispered.

"Everything will be fine," Illya said, "trust me."

"Shut up you two and get moving.

Illya and Auli`i were led to Dr. Henderson's house, where the physician and the town elders were being held.

A bald man sat in a high-back wicker chair, sipping a cool drink, when he spotted the agent. He slowly put down his beverage on a nearby table and rose, walking with deliberation to Kuryakin and without hesitation, backhanded him. The guard grabbed Illya, holding him in place.

The Russian showed no reaction, as the man hit him repeatedly, again and again until blood trickled from his mouth.

"I'm going to take great pleasure in making you suffer for what you did, destroying my satrap," Miles Grennan snickered.

"Leave him alone!" Auli`i cried out.

"And who do we have here?" Grennan reached out, taking the girl by the chin. "A lover perhaps, to show such concern?" The look in Illya's eyes gave the answer away."

Grennan, pulled at Auli`i's sarong, ripping it from her, leaving her nearly naked.

"You touch her and I will kill you!" Illya snarled.

"You are in no position to be making threats," Grennan sneered. "Take the girl to the boat and put her in my quarters," he ordered one of the guards.

Illya tried diving at him, but a guard brought his rifle butt smashing down on the agent's head, knocking him out.

"Take him to the boat too and lock him in the brig."

They dragged the unconscious agent and the struggling girl away as ordered.

"What do you want from us?"Henderson demanded.

"You and the people on this island are going to rebuild my satrap for me. We'll be off-loading the supplies tomorrow." Grennan gloated with an almost malignant pleasure.

"You'll never get away with this," the doctor challenged him.

"Oh but dear Doctor, I already have. You see, word has been spread there's a Typhus outbreak on the island, brought by a certain blond Russian. So you've been quarantined...no one will come within miles of this place."

.

Napoleon, though suspended from the field, was not banned from headquarters and was given light duty. Weeks passed and no axe fell, making him wonder if the Old Man was bluffing, hoping he'd reneg and finally choose the new parter. Napoleon was spending much of his time in Communications, listening to THRUSH radio broadcasts. Something drew his attention when he heard a transmission about an island in the South pacific being made to look as though it were quarantined, he knew something was up, as it was near the Atoll where Illya was supposedly killed.  Solo's mouth fell open when he heard the next communique...Illya Kuryakin had been taken prisoner.

"Yes!" Napoleon shouted out, jumping up from his chair and startling the other communications specialists. He headed out at a quick trot, off to tell Waverly of the news and burst into the office, not caring that a briefing was in session.

"My apologies sir, " he said breathlessly, "but I have proof Illya is alive." He filled Waverly in on the broadcast.

The Old Man smiled."Needless to say you are no longer on suspension Mr. Solo. Go find him, and stop whatever THRUSH is up to."

Within the hour Napoleon boarded an UNCLE Lear Jet, heading first to California, and from there, he'd travel by boat to the island; along with him were April Dancer and Mark Slate as his backup.

.

Donovan and Hoolihan got wind of the island being invaded, and grabbing their rifles they retreated into the jungle, heading to the shore line to check out the boat in the harbor. When the arrived, they spotted a smaller boat tying off in a nearby lagoon. In it were two men and an auburn-haired woman all dressed in camouflage uniforms. Figuring they were part of the group taking over the island, they decided to take them hostage.

As Napoleon stepped to the shore, he heard a rifle bolt from behind some banana trees.

"Put your hands on your head and turn around," a gruff voice ordered them.

"What are you blokes doing here invading our island? Tommy demanded as they stepped out, revealing themselves.

"Now wait a minute, we're not invading. We're here to rescue a friend. His name is Illya Kuryakin," Napoleon said.

"Who?"

"He's Russian darling, long blond hair, about 5'7" slightly built," April chimed in.

Donovan and Tommy looked at each other as that description fit their blond friend to a tee.

"Oy so that's his name. Poor fella lost his memory in some sort of explosion. The locals here called him Maka Nani, for lack of a better name."

"Maka Nani?" April smiled, "That means beautiful eyes."

Napoleon sniffed. "So do you know where we can find our friend."

"He's on that freighter there along with his girlfriend Auli`i. The people taking over the island have a good bit of hurt planned for him. And I hate to think what they're going to do to the girl."

"Girlfriend?" Napoleon cocked his eyebrows as he smiled. The little Russian had apparently been busy.

"Well, what say we help rid you of this pesky bird invasion so we can rescue our friend and the girl." Napoleon said.

"Bird invasion mate, what the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"These people are part of an organization called THRUSH It stands for...well, let's just say their goal is to dominate the world. We're from an organization called UNCLE and we stop the baddies like THRUSH."

"Crikey, say no more. What do you need us to do?"

Donovan and Hoolihan gathered up the locals who hadn't been corralled yet, and along with every possible weapon they could find, from machetes, butcher knives, to some vintage spears.

Together with the three agents, they simply stormed Henderson's home and overwhelmed the THRUSH guards by sheer numbers. The operation resulted in a few wounds to the locals, but nothing Dr. Henderson couldn't take care of. Grennan, however, had already returned to his boat.

"Now to get Illya and the girl, "Napoleon said. He, Mark and April returned to the shore, but this time dressed in THRUSH uniforms, ready to head to out.

There was a series of explosions, going off in tandem on the freighter in the harbor, and making them all gasp.

.

The Russian woke in a dank mouldy brig, holding his hand to his throbbing head. His face still stung from Grennan's blows.

He felt different, and out of the blue he said his name aloud. His memory had returned, no doubt brought on by being struck in his head.

Illya went immediately into escape mode, searching the cell for anything useful after he examined the lock on the cell door. It was a simple one, and all he needed was a piece of wire, and that he found above his head, wrapped around a light fixture to keep it in place.

Within minutes he had the cell door unlocked and he was padding barefoot down the unguarded corridor. He came to the cargo hold door and he turned the handle, hoping to find something there that could be used as a weapon.

Illya's eyes went wide, and he smiled, seeing a crate marked 'plastique.' That would do nicely. He took several bricks of the plastic explosives and timers and returned to the corridor. He heard voices coming towards him, and ducked into an alcove to hide. Putting down the explosives; he prepared himself to do battle.

"Okay Ernie, I'm heading topside. You go check and see if Kuryakin is awake yet."

Illya listened, hearing the men separate, and carefully followed the one who was to be checking on him. As the guard saw the open brig door, he cursed.

Illya tapped him on the shoulder. "Looking for me?" He slammed the started guard with his fist, knocking him out and took his uniform, dragging the man into cell, and locking him and set about putting the explosives in strategic locations throughout the ship; setting the timers at an hour. That he estimated was more than enough time for him to find Auli`i.

He was exploring the level where the cabin spaces where, when he heard a shrill scream.

It was Auli`i, and that cry led him to exactly the right cabin. Illya slammed his shoulder against the light door, and bursting in, he found Grennan on top of the girl, trying to rape her. He pulled away at the sound of the crash, turning in surprise to face the Russian. "How did you..."

Illya didn't let him finish, and smashed the rifle butt as hard as he could against Grennan's head, splitting his skull.

Auli`i was sobbing as Illya took her into his arms to comfort her.

"Is he dead?"

"I told him I would kill him if he touched you, and I am a man of my word."

"You've gotten back your memory haven't you?" She knew from the sound of his voice...something was different.

"Yes, my name is indeed Illya Kuryakin and I work for an organization called UNCLE...he explained his background quickly as they needed to get off the ship before it was blown to bits.

He wrapped the girl in one of Grennan's suit jackets, and together they commandeered a small dinghy, making their escape. Just as they reached the shoreline the small freighter erupted in a spectacular explosion.

Minutes later Napoleon spotted his partner walking towards him along the beach, with is arm wrapped around a pretty dark-haired girl.

"Illya!' He shouted out, excited to see his friend was indeed alive.

They two men grabbed each other in a bear hug, and stepped back, both sporting wide grins.

Introductions were made all round. Once everything had been settled on the island and a cleanup crew ordered for the THRUSH captives, it was time to leave.

Dr. Henderson and the islanders escorted the four agents to their boat, thanking them for the rescue. Napoleon gave them his card, telling them if THRUSH dared return, they should contact him immediately.

Illya shook hands with Donovan and Tommy, saying his goodbyes, leaving Auli`i last. Napoleon, April and Mark discreetly disappeared on board the boat, waiting for him.

She was beautiful, wrapped in a sky blue sarong, with her silky dark hair toppling down past her bare shoulders."I am sorry Auli`i, " Illya said, "but I must go. I know who I am now and I have a very important job to do. Know this, I will never forget you." He took her in his arms, giving her one long passionate kiss.

When he released her, she said nothing. What was there to say? She somehow always knew when he regained his memory, he would no longer be hers...

Illya turned, joining his friends in the boat and Auli`i watched as it sailed off into the horizon.

"A hui hou kakou... Nau ko`u aloha, Maka Nani_until we meet again...my love is yours, Beautiful Eyes." She whispered to the wind.

A week later, Illya sat at the back table in the commissary in New York with April, and was a bit astonished at what she had just told him.

"You heard me right, Napoleon risked his career with UNCLE to find you. He never for once believed you were dead, and when Mr. Waverly ordered him to select a new partner he refused. All of headquarters was amazed how he stood his ground for you and wouldn't back down. He was suspended for defying a direct order and the issue was up for review before Secion I. I'm just glad the Old Man let it slide, since Napoleon gave him proof you weren't dead."

"Thank goodness THRUSH has a bad habit of not guarding their radio transmissions,," Napoleon said, pulling up a chair at the table.

"I would like to thank you for not giving up on me," Illya said.

"I stood my ground for you, so just you remember that tovarisch," Napoleon joked.

"Oh here it comes, the blackmail begins, "April giggled. "thing never change."

"Oh nooo, no blackmail Napoleon. You know I could go back to that tropical paradise...there is a pretty girl there who would be very happy to see me," Illya chided.

"You know sometimes you're just no fun Kuryakin," Napoleon droned.

"Admit it, you missed me my friend, did you not?"

"Very much so, chum. Very much." Napoleon clapped a hand on the Russians shoulder.