section7mfu | Another Day

Prompts: yellow, chew
Word count: 1022
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Illya Kuryakin had seen and experienced a great deal of life’s more dreary environments; that which other people avoided or ignored. At present he was in the company of people who knew hardship and lack in greater measure than anything the Russian had encountered, and that was saying a lot.

Kuryakin and his partner, Napoleon Solo, had been sent to this vile place in order to extract a scientist who was hiding from THRUSH. Certainly no one would have expected to find a leading authority on String Theory Physics to end up in this horrible place, so the man’s strategy was a success.

The place, and the people, made it difficult to rejoice in whatever gain was being accomplished. The people here were living in a long abandoned tunnel previously used as a makeshift armory during a long ago war. The country itself was impoverished at almost every level of society, save for the lucky few who ignored this element of society.

The scientist, Mikhail Petrovich, was not immune to the conditions into which he had ventured while hiding from a THRUSH chief named Artos, a shortened version of the man’s abandoned birth name. Like others in the Hierarchy, his goal was to reach the top at any cost, and kidnapping a scientist, killing innocents, all of it was a means that justified his lust for power.

Illya surveyed the scene, his heart wrenched by the sight of children whose lives might end too soon, or at the very least be lived out in these awful conditions.

“Is there nothing we can do here? How do we just leave these people in this condition?” He was accustomed to seeing people living without what was needed, wearing too little to hold warmth as they traveled from shabby apartments to long lines that often ran out of food before it was their turn.

Napoleon saw his friend’s concern, shared his desire to help.

“We can notify the authorities…’ He saw the look on Illya’s face. If the authorities cared this situation wouldn’t exist.

“Or… hmmm… I don’t know. What do you do with this many people?” Napoleon glanced over at a man holding a piece of bread. The fellow’s teeth were yellow, and as he began to chew it was obvious that pain impeded his progress. ‘Probably rotting out of his head…’, the thought of it made Napoleon grimace.

“Do you think we can lead them out of here, get them to a site, get them… I don’t know… somewhere else?” Illya was experiencing an emotion that caused him to feel drawn back to the war years, the desperation to stay alive.

“Let me call Waverly, see what he says. We’ll try Illya, we’ll try.”

It took the miracle working efforts of Alexander Waverly to get it done, but within hours he had a plan that would work if his two agents could get things done on their end.

Solo and Kuraykin had found a ‘leader’ among the group, a former government official who had fallen into disfavor because of his criticisms of the current regime. Nikko Balaskas and his family were among the displaced who dwelt in this tunnel, scraping out enough to live on by visiting friendly shop owners who provided the leftovers from a day’s business, stale bread and over cooked vegetables. Meat was a luxury not often enjoyed, protein lacking in the daily meals.

Within a few hours the entire group was assembled, their meager belongings clutched in weary hands. Children huddled close to their parents, lucky if they had both a mother and a father. Napoleon let Nikko speak for them, give the instructions for their journey away from here and to a life with some promise of a better existence. Many of the people here had lived well, but were victims of persecution like Nikko and his family had experienced. Hopefully Waverly’s plan would place them in a friendlier, more hopeful situation.

When the journey came to its destination, a military transport helicopter was waiting for them. The strange entourage of ragged folk had not garnered much attention, just another vagabond group looking for food and shelter. That it was a common sight made it even more pitiable for those living in this blighted country. Illya sighed his regrets that they could only help these few, but at least these had not been left behind. UNCLE would be investigating the country’s leadership, and it was an eventuality waiting for fulfillment that something would be done about it.

When the last person was aboard the large aircraft, Nikko embraced the two men who had facilitated such a wondrous event. He trusted that his little tribe would be taken to a place where they could live honest, free lives without the fear of retribution or worse. He owed much to these men, to their superior who had done such a kind thing for strangers.

“Just make sure you take care of your people. We’ll have people coming to help you set up a viable living environment, build houses… it’s going to be good Nikko.” Illya let the man embrace him, the relief pouring out in that gesture towards a man he hadn’t even known until today. For things to have been accomplished in such a short period of time, it was a miracle.

Napoleon slapped Nikko on the back, letting the man retreat into the helicopter as the doors closed and the rotors began to whir into action. Both agents watched as the bird took flight, and each of them marveled that their scientist had insisted on accompanying the people who had given him shelter and safety.

“You know, sometimes I think what we do really does make a difference.” Napoleon needed days like this to cement his dedication to the cause. They didn’t always see such a positive outcome. Illya nodded in agreement, grateful that this day had been a victory of a different nature from blowing up things or taking a life.

This business of saving the world mattered more when you saw who it was you were saving.