AO3 is Down... ABC's Anyway
Jul. 9th, 2018 10:56 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
glennagirl.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
section7mfuBut I have a chapter to post! So, I'm posting it here. The S chapter of the ABC II Affair. I'll post to AO3 when they get up and running again.
Savannah, Georgia
The small airfield was less than thirty minutes from Buck's hideaway, so after breakfast and a quick check-in with Mr. Waverly, Napoleon and Illya headed to the VW for the short trip. When they arrived Buck directed them to a hangar at the far side of the runway.
"I have a plane here…"
"Of course you do. Where don't you keep a plane or boat for quick getaways?" Napoleon had become almost immune to Buck's propensity for the perfect backup plan, but a small glint of Strategist Envy lingered in the back of his mind.
"My friend, it is the life I've lived that makes me so, hmmm… prepared. You must admit, it has come in handy."
The plane was a red and white Cessna-172, and Illya was quick to give it a cursory inspection before sliding into the pilot's seat.
"I've not flown one of these, any tips on how to handle her?" He was a consummate pilot, but as one he never turned down professional advice, even from a non-professional.
"She's easy to handle, you shouldn't need much in the way of adjusting to things.' Buck climbed into the front seat after indicating to Napoleon that he should sit behind them.
"I hope you don't mind Napoleon, but I want to make certain I can see and monitor everything." The CEA of UNCLE Northwest understood that, he was a bit controlling himself. Sometimes it was a matter of life and death.
"Not at all, I'm in yours and Illya's capable hands."
Illya started the engine and taxied out to the southern end of the runway. Their destination lay to the northeast, and his course would take them across Florida and Georgia, heading to the coast. Buck felt it was safer than flying completely over land, so they would stay on the coastal path until they reached Norfolk, then head west towards Roanoke. It would take longer than a straight shot north, but for the sake of avoiding any kind of sabotage, it seemed worth the time.
The take off was textbook, and the plane caught a tailwind that seemed to add loft to their ascent. As the trio headed east towards the Atlantic it was only Napoleon who had a sudden sense of foreboding about this journey. Why, he couldn't say. But as the first hour passed and the sky ahead of them seemed to grow darker than the water beneath, he began to wonder about the wisdom of remaining on their current course.
"It looks like a storm, should we think about heading to land?" Illya shot Buck a look that asked the same question. THRUSH was no more a threat than bad weather at five thousand feet.
"We can fly above it, this plane has a ceiling of fourteen thousand feet. Illya?" Buck wouldn't overrule his companions, but he thought they could outlast the storm.
"I have no wish to die, and flying above this storm at sea seems foolhardy at best. I think we need to head west, try to outrun the storm." Illya was not averse to taking the safer route, it would be foolish to purposely endanger their lives unnecessarily. Buck nodded, he wouldn't try to change their minds.
"Very well, you are the pilot." Napoleon breathed a sigh of relief, his sense of imminent danger was slightly assuaged, but something else niggled at his spine in an effort to send cold chills up that path.
The storm behind them, Illya turned the aircraft toward land, flying over the dense forests that spanned the length of the eastern edge of the continent. They would head north to Roanoke, passing over Savannah in a direct path. It would be another three hours between those cities, so that the three men settled in for the journey.
It was smooth at first, with no sign of the storm they had seen over the Atlantic. But the closer they got to Savannah the more turbulent the air became until suddenly, with a forceful front that seemed to have come out of nowhere, they were surrounded by an ominous bank of dark clouds that seemed infused with electricity. Lightening could be seen from every angle and Illya began to work hard at keeping the plane on an even course.
Napoleon took out his communicator and called New York:
"Open Channel D, this is Solo."
"Mr. Solo, where are and === " The transmission broke up, making it nearly impossible to hear what Waverly was saying.
"Sir, sir I cannot understand. The storm seems to be disrupting our communication."
"I am ha===, please advise wh===" And then there was nothing.
Illya was battling to keep the plane from yielding to the crosswinds above and below them. He had begun to fly lower, gradually decreasing his elevation in order to search out a spot to land. He located a clearing that looked manageable, but before he could start his descent, lightening struck the propeller, causing the engine to stall. The windshield cracked with the impact of the strike, causing more alarm; there was nothing they could do about it.
"Hold on, we are going down!" Illya yelled as he struggled to maintain some control, leveling the wings as he manually adjusted the ailerons trying to compensate and keep the plane level. Napoleon braced for impact, as did Buck. As the plane dropped in violent increments of twenty and thirty feet, the ground below them became increasingly clear. If they could only reach the clearing to which Illya had headed just minutes before, they might stand a chance of surviving this.
As the wings began to respond the plane caught wind and behaved like a glider on its descent. Illya managed it until at last he was able to drop onto the ground, the worst of it now seemingly behind them. When the plane was fully stopped, Illya turned off the ignition and started to say something, Instead he lay his head back and passed out.
What neither Napoleon nor Buck could have known was that the lightening strike had caused a fragment of the propeller to break off and fly back into the plane. As they looked now at the Russian, seemingly exhausted from his ordeal, they both saw blood as it seeped from a gash in his chest.
*** Bizarre things do happen ***
air canada propeller accident
Savannah, Georgia
The small airfield was less than thirty minutes from Buck's hideaway, so after breakfast and a quick check-in with Mr. Waverly, Napoleon and Illya headed to the VW for the short trip. When they arrived Buck directed them to a hangar at the far side of the runway.
"I have a plane here…"
"Of course you do. Where don't you keep a plane or boat for quick getaways?" Napoleon had become almost immune to Buck's propensity for the perfect backup plan, but a small glint of Strategist Envy lingered in the back of his mind.
"My friend, it is the life I've lived that makes me so, hmmm… prepared. You must admit, it has come in handy."
The plane was a red and white Cessna-172, and Illya was quick to give it a cursory inspection before sliding into the pilot's seat.
"I've not flown one of these, any tips on how to handle her?" He was a consummate pilot, but as one he never turned down professional advice, even from a non-professional.
"She's easy to handle, you shouldn't need much in the way of adjusting to things.' Buck climbed into the front seat after indicating to Napoleon that he should sit behind them.
"I hope you don't mind Napoleon, but I want to make certain I can see and monitor everything." The CEA of UNCLE Northwest understood that, he was a bit controlling himself. Sometimes it was a matter of life and death.
"Not at all, I'm in yours and Illya's capable hands."
Illya started the engine and taxied out to the southern end of the runway. Their destination lay to the northeast, and his course would take them across Florida and Georgia, heading to the coast. Buck felt it was safer than flying completely over land, so they would stay on the coastal path until they reached Norfolk, then head west towards Roanoke. It would take longer than a straight shot north, but for the sake of avoiding any kind of sabotage, it seemed worth the time.
The take off was textbook, and the plane caught a tailwind that seemed to add loft to their ascent. As the trio headed east towards the Atlantic it was only Napoleon who had a sudden sense of foreboding about this journey. Why, he couldn't say. But as the first hour passed and the sky ahead of them seemed to grow darker than the water beneath, he began to wonder about the wisdom of remaining on their current course.
"It looks like a storm, should we think about heading to land?" Illya shot Buck a look that asked the same question. THRUSH was no more a threat than bad weather at five thousand feet.
"We can fly above it, this plane has a ceiling of fourteen thousand feet. Illya?" Buck wouldn't overrule his companions, but he thought they could outlast the storm.
"I have no wish to die, and flying above this storm at sea seems foolhardy at best. I think we need to head west, try to outrun the storm." Illya was not averse to taking the safer route, it would be foolish to purposely endanger their lives unnecessarily. Buck nodded, he wouldn't try to change their minds.
"Very well, you are the pilot." Napoleon breathed a sigh of relief, his sense of imminent danger was slightly assuaged, but something else niggled at his spine in an effort to send cold chills up that path.
The storm behind them, Illya turned the aircraft toward land, flying over the dense forests that spanned the length of the eastern edge of the continent. They would head north to Roanoke, passing over Savannah in a direct path. It would be another three hours between those cities, so that the three men settled in for the journey.
It was smooth at first, with no sign of the storm they had seen over the Atlantic. But the closer they got to Savannah the more turbulent the air became until suddenly, with a forceful front that seemed to have come out of nowhere, they were surrounded by an ominous bank of dark clouds that seemed infused with electricity. Lightening could be seen from every angle and Illya began to work hard at keeping the plane on an even course.
Napoleon took out his communicator and called New York:
"Open Channel D, this is Solo."
"Mr. Solo, where are and === " The transmission broke up, making it nearly impossible to hear what Waverly was saying.
"Sir, sir I cannot understand. The storm seems to be disrupting our communication."
"I am ha===, please advise wh===" And then there was nothing.
Illya was battling to keep the plane from yielding to the crosswinds above and below them. He had begun to fly lower, gradually decreasing his elevation in order to search out a spot to land. He located a clearing that looked manageable, but before he could start his descent, lightening struck the propeller, causing the engine to stall. The windshield cracked with the impact of the strike, causing more alarm; there was nothing they could do about it.
"Hold on, we are going down!" Illya yelled as he struggled to maintain some control, leveling the wings as he manually adjusted the ailerons trying to compensate and keep the plane level. Napoleon braced for impact, as did Buck. As the plane dropped in violent increments of twenty and thirty feet, the ground below them became increasingly clear. If they could only reach the clearing to which Illya had headed just minutes before, they might stand a chance of surviving this.
As the wings began to respond the plane caught wind and behaved like a glider on its descent. Illya managed it until at last he was able to drop onto the ground, the worst of it now seemingly behind them. When the plane was fully stopped, Illya turned off the ignition and started to say something, Instead he lay his head back and passed out.
What neither Napoleon nor Buck could have known was that the lightening strike had caused a fragment of the propeller to break off and fly back into the plane. As they looked now at the Russian, seemingly exhausted from his ordeal, they both saw blood as it seeped from a gash in his chest.
*** Bizarre things do happen ***
air canada propeller accident
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 04:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 05:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 05:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 06:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 08:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 08:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-09 09:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-10 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-07-10 08:05 pm (UTC)