[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu

The prompt:

.



“Gentlemen, we just intercepted a transmission in regards to THRUSH development of new weaponry,” Alexander Waverly passed two photographs round the conference to his top agents, Solo and Kuryakin.


Napoleon said nothing as he took a gander at the photograph showing nine high powered style rifles, six of which still encorporated the trademark infrared THRUSH scope.


Illya put on his tinted reading glasses, but they didn’t mask the look of concern in his eyes; it was unusual for the Russian to give away a reaction such as this.


Glancing over at his partner, Napoleon knew Illya had surmised the same thing as he, THRUSH had just ramped up their superiority to UNCLE. The converted Special carbine wouldn’t hold a candle to these guns as an everyday weapon in the field.


“Our intelligence has indicated a bit of good news however,”Waverly spoke again. “These are apparently prototypes; they have not been put into production as of yet.”


“I take it you’d like us to destroy said weaponry,”Napoleon said.


“Hmm, yes precisely. We’ll also need the design plans for them, if not then they too should be destroyed.”


“Any idea where they are?” Illya asked. He carefully placed his pen on top of the yellow legal pad he was using to take notes.


“They will be at a remote estate on the coast of Cornwall in two day’s time. THRUSH designers are apparently holding a symposium to discuss the new weapons and will have the design plans available for the heads of their western Europe satrapies to examine.”


“That’s at least twenty men and women in attendance, a good many of whom already know who Napoleon and I are,” Illya shook his head.


“Precisely young man, but as usual I will leave it up to you and Mister Solo as to the method with which you complete your assignment, which I’m sure you will and successfully I might add. Oh and please try to keep the collateral damage to a minimum, accounting has been on my back again in regards to you two. Now dismissed gentlemen and good luck.”


Napoleon gave a barely perceptible chuckle to that comment, Illya however, remained placid. It was rare for his partner’s demeanor to change and reveal his true feelings.


As they walked side by side down the grey corridors of headquarters Solo finally spoke up.


“A penny for your thoughts?”


“Thinking of this assignment of course, and you I presume are thinking of the dates you must cancel for the next few days.”


“Date, I only have one and that would have been tomorrow evening with Mitzy from translations.”


“Mitzy? I do not believe I have had the pleasure.”


Napoleon winked as he grinned,”Well I have...several times.”


“Please, that is more information than I need to know.”


“Hey, you’re the one reading between the lines; it was just dinner and dancing. Get your head out of the gutter Mister Kuryakin.”

Illya couldn’t help but snicker and shake his head at the American’s feigned indignation.


“So are you formulating a plan or are we going to fly by the seat of our trousers, as usual?”


Napoleon didn’t even bother correcting his partner’s use of the proverb and merely nodded. “What do you think?”


“I was afraid of that... why do you insist upon deciding a course of action as you go along rather than using your own initiative and perceptions in developing a predetermined plan?”


“It’s more fun that way,” this time Solo grinned.


*****

Napoleon and Illya stood at a distance, peering through their binoculars at the large edifice constructed of solid Cornish granite. Though it was a mansion, intended to be a home, it looked more like a fortress.


“The view here is spectacular isn’t it tovarisch.” Solo's attention was drawn to the landscape and the channel as well as to a nearby island.


“Yes it is, Tintagel Island has stunning scenery.” Illya noticed Napoleon looking out at the remains of it.


Set high on the north coast between Padstow and Bude, it would always be linked with the legend of King Arthur, though the castle there had been dated only to medieval times.

“It takes walking one hundred forty-eight steps to reach the castle there.”


“Illya is there anything you don’t know?” Napoleon laughed as he turned his attention back to their target located on the mainland.


“More than you can possibly imagine. Do not forget I lived in England for three years and I did some traveling during that time...speaking of which,” he looked at his watch.


“Five-four-three-two-one…”


There was silence, but a half a tick later several huge explosions went off in succession, sending debris in every direction; It was followed by the limousines parked in front of the mansion blowing up in a spectacular follow up.


As the cloud of dust settled, it was clear the stone structure where all the symposium was taking place was now gone. Nothing and no one was left standing.


The vehicles continued to burn, sending plumes of black smoke into the air as flaming tongues of orange and red licked the air.


“A little heavy handed on the explosives weren’t you Illya?”Napoleon looked to his partner who stood there with a satisfied grin.


“Not really. They got the job done. When things cool down, we should check to see if any of the weapons survived, as well as the plans.”


“And people, we should check to see if anyone made it,” Napoleon added.


“Yes, though I doubt any would have.”


Solo shook his head. “Cold tovarisch, very cold.”


“Am I not called the ‘Ice Prince’?” Illya’s blue eyes flashed with an icy twinkle.


“I guess so,” Napoleon restrained himself from wincing. He was used to his partner’s ways, but his cold bloodthirstiness was something he found hard to process at times.


“Once we have finished this assignment we could go to Tintagel; I think you would enjoy it Napoleon.”


Just like that Kuryakin turned off his chilly demeanor.


That was something else Solo found difficult to digest about Illya, who was most certainly, a complicated man. The Russian wore many masks, and rarely revealed his true self to anyone except the American.


Napoleon smiled to himself as they made their way down towards the carnage, knowing the ‘Ice Prince’ was but one of his partner’s labyrinthine visages.


Still deep down, Solo liked to think he knew the real Illya Kuryakin...mostly.

Date: 2018-09-18 05:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
Did you threaten to set the Ice Prince on her, and that's why she came up with this? LOL

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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