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section7mfu2013-01-15 11:31 pm
When Plans Don't Go To Plan - Part Four
Link to Part Three: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/210950.html
Part Four Below The Cut.
Chapter 4: All may be not as it seems
The flight to Shannon Airport went without a hitch. Illya, Rebecca and Napoleon took turns flying the jet so they all felt they were on a break. When not flying they were relaxing in the cabin with the others.
Rebecca and Illya were at the flight controls when it came time to prepare for landing, the Russian contacted Flight Approach and were cleared for landing. He looked over to her as she was taking her turn flying the plane.
“Do you want to try the landing or would you like me to do it?”
“Do you think I can manage? I’m not used to landing such a fast aircraft.”
“Yes, I do. Your first landings in the Cessna were almost textbook. I do not think you will have any problem landing this, just do not think about it being faster; and remember, I am here if you need help.”
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Good, I knew you would.”
"Lear-niner-three-sixer, you are cleared for runway 06. Please stay on your current heading and descend to 1500."
"Roger Tower, continue on heading 186 and descend to 1500."
Becca throttled back to bring the jet down to the requested altitude as they flew on a course parallel to the runway before making a 90 degree turn in preparation for the final approach.
"Time to make the last turn now and line up with the runway, reduce to 230 knots and bring us down to 500 feet.”
He smiled as she smoothly brought the plane to the new heading and height.
“Good, nicely done, moya lyubov. Time to extend the undercarriage, and flaps need to be at 10 degrees.”
“Gear down and locked, flaps at 10. How am I doing?”
“As I have said before; you are a natural pilot and doing extremely well.”
“Mr. Kuryakin, you certainly know how to flatter a girl.”
“Miss Andrews, just wait until tonight; I intend to do more than flatter you.” He replied with a mischievous grin before becoming serious again. “Right, reduce to 180 knots and flaps at 20.”
He called out the height as she gently brought the jet towards the runway. Just as she was about to touch down a gust of wind caught the aircraft and slew it slightly to the right, causing the starboard wheels to set down first a little heavily before the others made contact.
She applied a little left rudder to correct the Learjets orientation and headed straight down the centre of the runway, putting the engines in reverse to slow the jet down.
“Well done on the recovery, you handled that correctly.” He said to her with pride.
Becca put the engines back to idle and eased the plane onto the taxiway taking them to the UNCLE hangar.
She was on an adrenaline high, partly from the unexpected crosswind but mostly due to the thrill of having flown such a powerful aircraft. It was going to take a while to come back down to earth.
She gently brought the learjet to a halt on the apron in front of the hangar and shut down the engines. Suddenly the quiet was deafening having grown used to the noise over the last seven hours.
They ran through the checklist, shutting down the jets systems and glad of a short break from flying. After they finished, Illya jumped from his seat and gave her the biggest hug and kiss, showing his pride in her efforts.
Together they went through to the cabin and Napoleon looked at his Russian partner with a raised eyebrow.
“Not quite one of your best landings, tovarisch.”
Illya grinned. “I did not land the plane. Becca did and I thought she did extremely well.”
Everyone congratulated her on her landing skills.
“Well, I think this calls for a celebration then,” Napoleon said as he moved towards the liquor cabinet.
“I’ve been waiting to open this; I trust no one is going to object to the time of day?”
“I think we need to get something to eat. I’ll go to the shop over at the terminal building. There is a small one if I remember right,” Rebecca said as she opened the door and stepped down.
“We’ll come with you,” Penny said, with Lizzie and April chiming in as well.
The women crossed the tarmac to the shop arm in arm. Becca caught a glimpse of Illya and Napoleon smiling as they exited the jet; and she ventured a guess, they were thinking about what they were planning for the evening.
The two partners watched the women walking on their way to the terminal building.
“You’ve got a good one there, Illya.”
“Yes, I am always amazed she is there when we come back after our assignments." He grinned at his partner. "You have not done too bad yourself. I am glad you have found happiness with Lizzie, my friend."
"Thanks, partner; coming from you, that means a lot. I never believed I'd really fall in love with someone. I'm lucky that she forgives my past dalliances."
"Even with Angelique?" He smirked.
"Especially with her."
Laughing, Illya looked towards the hangar wondering why they hadn't been greeted yet. "I thought a tech would have come over by now. They are expecting us.”
Mark poked his head out the door.
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the plane if you want to go check the hangar out. Is it me or does it seem a bit quiet around here?”
Nodding their thanks, they walked towards the hangar and just as they were about to open the door, a dishevelled man came hurrying out making them hustle out of his way to avoid being knocked flying.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I do apologise. I meant to come out sooner, but was held up with a phone call. I’ll go and get the Avgas truck and refuel the jet now.” The missing tech spoke quickly, with an Irish accent. “Oh my she is a beauty isn’t she? How did she fly? Well I should think, she looks top of the range.”
Napoleon raised his hands to stop the Irishman in mid flow, he was talking so fast and with such a thick accent they could barely keep up.
“Don’t panic, we’re not in any hurry. Could you talk a bit slower please?"
“Oh, yes, sorry. Nerves I guess. It’s not often we get top UNCLE agents to our little facility way out here. I forgot my manners too. I’m Cormac, Cormac Quinn.”
He wiped his sweaty palms on his overalls before shaking the hands of the two agents. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise Mr. Quinn, I am Illya Kuryakin and this is my partner Napoleon Solo."
The American noticed that part of the Irishman's little finger was missing as he shook his hand.
"If you can point me in the direction of your office I will sign the necessary paperwork for you,” the Russian said.
“Oh, no, no, no, isn’t necessary. Everything’s in order, there’s no need to sign anything.”
Napoleon and Illya looked at each other, each giving a silent message to the other, though no one else would pick up on it.
Illya shrugged. “Alright, I will make the ground checks on the jet while you take care of the fuel.”
He glanced at Napoleon with a look that said, ‘I do not like this, keep alert’ and Napoleon gave the slightest of nods to confirm he understood.
Napoleon boarded the jet, activating his communicator.
“Open channel D please.”
Mark looked at him with enquiring eyes, wondering what was going on.
“Is there a problem?”
Napoleon shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know yet, possibly.”
“Waverly here. Mr. Solo, I thought you would be well into your vacation by now. Is there a problem?”
“I’m not sure, sir. We are at Shannon Airport and the tech seems to be unusually nervous. I just want to check his details.”
“Give me a few minutes Mr. Solo, while I locate the personnel files for that hangar. I will contact you shortly.”
“Thank you, sir. Solo out.” He closed his communicator, putting it into his jacket pocket.
‘Now all we can do is wait and see,’ he thought to himself.
ldquo;Should we go and get the ladies. Are they safe do you think?” Mark asked.
“No, leave them for now, they should be fine. If there’s something going on, they’ll be safer where there’s people around.”
Napoleons communicator beeped. “Solo here.”
“Ah, Mr. Solo. I have the files for that hangars personnel, there are currently four UNCLE technicians working there, Mr. Declan O’Connor, Mr. Patrick Flynn, Mr. Cormac Quinn and Mr. Kieran O’Rourke.”
“Can you give me the description of Mr. Quinn please, sir?”
“Yes, he’s down here as 5ft 8, well built, light brown hair, wears glasses and the first joint on the little finger of his right hand is missing.”
“Thank you, sir. The description fits him perfectly, he must just be a nervous character.”
"Very well then, good bye Mr. Solo. Oh, and Mr. Solo, please make sure you bring the aircraft back. Preferably in one piece.”
“Yes, Sir. Solo out.”
“Everything okay then?” Mark asked.
“Seems to be. I suppose given our line of work we’re suspicious by nature towards anyone who acts a little strange.”
“Well you can’t be too careful in our line of work mate. Cor, here come our lady friends now and looks like they went on a spree.”
Illya entered the cabin just as the women returned with handfuls of bags.
“April, you just can’t resist shopping wherever you are, can you,” Mark laughed when he saw how much she was carrying.
“How on earth did you find so much to buy, it was only a very small shop,” Napoleon quipped.
“We had to stop her from buying up the other half the shop. She claimed it was therapeutic.” Rebecca said as they piled in after April.
"It's the best kind of therapy I know of." April pouted. "And besides, you're not much different when it comes to shopping, Becca."
“And do I not know it, just how many shoes can one woman wear? That I will never understand." The Russian teased, giving his girlfriend a smirk. "Well, I hope there is food in amongst that lot. I am starving.”
“Illya, you are always hungry. I don’t know where you put it all, and I don't have that many shoes, only twenty three at last count," Rebecca said, rolling her eyes.
They removed the food from the bags and spread it out on a table they had put up and tucked in. There were some take away containers with a selection of traditional Irish meals; Cottage pie, Colcannon made with cabbage, sausages, Boxty, a kind of potato pancake as well as brown bread. They followed this with some Turkish delight for dessert.
The cottage pie reminded Illya of a Russian dish called ‘Kartofel'naya zapekanka‘, consisting of layers of mashed potatoes, minced beef and onions and , enjoying it immensely, helped himself to more.
“Hello? Are you in there?” Cormac came to the doorway of the plane. “I’m ready to fuel you up, but I can’t find the access point. I’ve not had to do a jet like this before.”
“I will come and show you. I will be with you shortly.” Illya finished his second helping before going out to help the tech.
“I’ll put your shopping in the cargo hold for you April. I think there is enough room in there," Napoleon said, rising to pick up the bags.
"My God what is in these? I’m surprised you could carry them,” Napoleon said.
Illya was outside showing the tech where to put the fuel when he felt a sting on the back of his neck, he assumed it was an insect and batted it away, not seeing a minute needle-like object as it fell to the floor.
Moments later the same thing happened to Napoleon as he was stowing April’s bags in the cargo area at the back of the plane; he too thinking it was an insect and, like Illya, he swatted it away.
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