When Plans Don't Go To Plan - Part Nine

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llya's carefully made plans don't quite go right!

Link to Part Eight: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/226191.html

Part Nine Below The Cut.

Chapter 9: To finish what was started

“Nyet. Nyet, NYET.”

Illya gently laid Rebecca down and proceeded to thump her chest.

“You are not leaving me,” he choked.

Feeling for her pulse, he found nothing. He thumped again trying to shock her heart into beating, then started chest compressions and gave her mouth to mouth.

He knew she would more than likely have severe internal injuries and was probably making them worse; but he had to try.

“Illya, what are you doing? She’s gone,” Napoleon was shocked by his partner's actions.

The Russian looked up, still continuing with his CPR. “A little hope and luck is better than none at all.”

Solo immediately knew what he was talking about, most at UNCLE knew about the ‘Solo luck’, his friend was now hoping on some of it extending to Rebecca.

Feeling the desperation in his partner, he knelt down to help; taking over the mouth to mouth while Illya continued with the chest compressions.

Lizzie checked for a pulse and, thinking she felt something, signalled for Illya to stop.

He sat back on his heels and looked to her, hope in his eyes.

“Yes. There’s a pulse. Faint, but it’s there,” she exclaimed.

“Welcome back, moya lyubov,” the Russian whispered, smiling with relief.

Napoleon kept up with the mouth to mouth while Lizzie moved closer to him and watched the rise and fall of her chest.

“Only one side is rising properly, I think her lung is punctured. The air going in is getting trapped, and will make it harder for you to breathe for her; we need to let it out – and quickly or her heart will stop again,” she said with concern.

“What can we do?” April asked.

“I need to insert a tube into her chest to drain out the air as well as any fluids," Lizzie replied.

Illya took over from Napoleon, giving him a break; Solo was grateful to be able to straighten up again and stretch his aching muscles as he walked over to Lizzie.

"Can you do that?" Concern tinged the Americans voice.

"I've done it a few times under instruction, but never on my own," she replied nervously.

Napoleon put his arm around her supportively.

"How can we help?" He asked.

"I need a sharp knife and tubing of some sort."

She thought back to the times she had performed the operation in Medical trying to remember what else she needed.

"I'll need a bottle of water or something similar too. I need to make sure air doesn’t go back in.”

“The plane can be converted into a med-evac jet." Illya said as he continued with the resuscitation. "There is a first aid kit in the cockpit.” He managed to finish between breaths.

“I’ll go see what I can find.” April said, urgency in her voice, as she sprinted from the tunnel over to the plane.

Mark and Penny saw her running hell bent for leather towards them.

“Blimey luv, what’s the hurry? Where's everyone else?” Mark enquired, then his expression turned to worry as he realised something was wrong.

"What's happened April?"

She briefly explained what happened while climbing aboard and grabbed the first aid kit from the cockpit.

“Thank God for UNCLE,” she exclaimed as she opened it.

Inside was just about everything you could need for most emergency situations including a length of flexible piping.

“I need a bottle of water.” April said searching the plane cabin, trying to find something suitable, but failing.

“Mark, get these things to Lizzie, while we keep looking.”

Mark took the things and bolted back the way she had come.

The two women continued trying to find a bottle or container of some sort.

“Here with this do?” Penny held out a bottle of Vodka from the liquor cabinet.

"Thanks, perfect, I think." Grinning, April took the bottle; wondering why she hadn't thought of that.

‘Not sure what Illya will think, but if it helps to save Rebecca’s life I don’t think he’ll mind too much,’ she thought to herself while hurrying back to the others, leaving Penny with the jet.

She arrived back just as Lizzie was just about to push the tubing into an incision cut in Rebecca's side. Stopping as April came up to them, she saw the bottle of vodka and smiled.

“You need to pour about a third of it away, we need the air to escape freely. Because of the narrow opening it will help if the bottle isn’t full.”

She did this and then handed it to her. Lizzie put the end of the tubing into the liquid and then proceeded to push the other end into the incision. Immediately air escaped and the vodka bubbled.

The nurse let out a sigh of relief that it had gone correctly, not realising until then that she had been holding her breath.

“We need to try and keep the bottle as low as possible to help prevent the liquid from entering Becca’s body.”

Napoleon had taken over with the mouth to mouth, and as he blew air into Rebecca’s lungs, noticed that it was easier than before as the vodka bubbled with every breath.

“We need to get her to Medical as quickly as possible.” Lizzie said; trembling slightly, from her impromptu operation, as April comforted her.

Illya, who had stayed near Rebecca throughout, ran to the tunnel entrance to see how far the plane was. It was too far to be able to get her there safely.

“I will bring the jet over as close as possible, we cannot breathe for her while she is being carried and she cannot be without air for too long.” He shouted back, receiving an acknowledgement in return.

He sprinted across to the plane and quickly started to power up the systems as Penny closed the door, thankful that he had left most of them ‘live’.

As soon as engine power was up, he manoeuvred as close to the tunnel entrance as he dared, mindful that he would need room to swing the jet round in order to take off.

The others in the tunnel with Rebecca heard the jet approaching and Mark went to see when it was in position.

"Illya's stopped closer, we're ready to move her now." Mark said as he watched the aircraft come to a halt.

Lizzie was looking through the medical kit and found an Ambu Bag

"This will make it easier to carry her to the plane and keep her breathing," she said as she put it on Becca.

Napoleon gently picked her up and carried her to the waiting plane. Lizzie walked next to him and squeezed the Ambu Bag while April carried the Vodka bottle.

Upon reaching the jet, the door was open ready for them to enter. Boarding the plane was tricky, but once in, Napoleon laid the Rebecca down on the seats at the back of the aircraft and took over her breathing while Lizzie checked her pulse, it was weak, but still there.

Illya  gently stroked a stray lock of her hair from her eyes and kissed her forehead. Seeing her lying there, not knowing if she would live or die, tore at his heart. It seemed that everyone he had truly loved had been taken from him; his family as a child, and now, possibly, his Becca.
He wiped away the tears that threatened to fall, he knew that he wasn't able to help his family all those years ago, he had eventually come to terms with that; but he could do something to help Becca, and he would do everything he could to give her the best possible chance of surviving.

“Hold on Rebecca, zavetnyy, we will soon have you safely in Medical. I am not going to let you leave me, do you hear that? You are staying with this Russian whether you like it or not." He choked back the tears that were welling up and felt determined he wasn't going to lose someone else he loved, not this time.

April put the bottle on the floor and tied it to one of the seat legs to stop it from moving during the flight. They also managed to strap her onto the seats to keep her safe during the flight. Lizzie sat in the seat opposite and continued to squeeze the Ambu Bag.

The Russian went back to the cockpit, followed by his partner. Once settled in Napoleon looked over to him as he was turning the jet round to get into a position to take off.

“How are we going to get Becca to Medical? There’s the chopper at Shannon, we could land on the top of HQ with that, assuming it’s flyable.”

“No, this jet is faster. We will go direct to UNCLE’s London airport and then use a helicopter to fly from there to headquarters. It will still be quicker than flying all the way in one, even allowing for the extra distance and the transfer.”

Solo nodded, his logic was sound, the jet could fly twice as fast as the heli and it would be about ten minutes from the airport to HQ. 

It took them forty minutes to fly to the airport. Thankfully, the trip was uneventful, and they all took turns helping Rebecca breath with the Ambu Bag. Lizzie kept a check on her pulse, and made sure that the tube was still in place and was working, the Vodka in the bottle was starting to look a bit pink, which was a bit worrying, but not unexpected.

When they pulled up outside the hangar, medical transport was ready and waiting. During the flight, Napoleon had contacted both headquarters in New York and London to advise them of the situation, requesting a helicopter to take them to London and to warn Medical about Rebecca.

They transferred her onto the chopper’s stretcher and then carried her over from the jet, ducking to avoid the spinning rotor blades.

Illya carried the vodka bottle while Lizzie continued with the Ambu Bag. There was only room for two additional passengers as there were three crew members already in there, the pilot, co-pilot and the Doctor.

The Russian climbed in and sat near Becca, holding her hand.

"Lizzie, go with them, you're medically trained and would be of more help, if it was needed, than any of us." Napoleon said, he motioned to a black car parked not far away, "We'll drive over and meet you there."

"Okay, I'll go with them. Please drive carefully," she replied.

He gave her a quick hug and kiss, "I'll do my best."

The others stood clear and watched the helicopter take off and head towards headquarters where Medical was waiting for their arrival.

Napoleon sighed, “If we ever needed a miracle, we certainly need it now."

He couldn’t begin to imagine how Illya would be if she didn’t make it. If it came to it, he didn’t know how he would be either, so he tried to be his usual positive self, though this time he was finding it hard.

“Do you think she’ll pull through? She’s in a bad way.”  April asked.

“I hope so. For Illya’s sake, I really do hope so; she'll be in the best place possible now anyway.”

“I’m surprised he managed to get her heart going again, blimey, I don't think I could have done that,” Mark said quietly.

Solo knew how much doing that had hurt his partner, he could see the dilemma in his eyes; knowing by doing what he intended, he would more than likely make her injuries worse.

The drive to headquarters, in spite of London traffic was completed in record time, with them witnessing the medi-vac chopper just taking off again from the heliport on top of the building.  They drove to the underground car park, taking the first space they found.

They proceeded to the agents entrance in the corner of the car park; it looked like an ordinary elevator that was out of order, but on pressing the call buttons in the correct sequence, the doors opened. Once inside, they were identified before taken up a level where they exited into the reception area.

They were greeted by Mary and Stephanie, currently manning the desk. Napoleon approached first and leaned over as Mary pinned his badge to his lapel.

"Thank you, Mary," he smiled.

"I'm sorry to hear about Rebecca, she's a good friend, we've all missed her since she transferred to New York."

"Yes, it's a shame she's here under these circumstances." Stephanie added, as she handed Mark and April their badges.

"Thanks, it's good to know she's so well liked."  Lizzie said as she received her badge.

"Tell Illya we're thinking about them both." Mary finished, as she watched them leave the area, stepping into the grey corridor beyond.

"Yes, I'll let him know, thank you." Solo replied as he left, the door sliding shut behind him.

They hurried their way to the elevator, eager to hear how Rebecca was doing.

Mark repeatedly pressed the call button, impatient for the slowly arriving lift.

"I think we could go up the stars quicker than waiting for this damn thing," he said frustratedly.

"It's here," April said, as they heard the chime to signify it's arrival.

"I'm sure it was quicker when I used to be here, "Mark grumbled as they stepped inside.

"You know what they say, a watched kettle never boils, maybe it's the same when you need an elevator in a hurry." Napoleon quipped, trying to bring a little humor, but not really feeling it himself.

It seemed to take ages for them to reach Medical, all the while feeling more and more apprehensive of what they would find out about Becca’s condition when they arrived.

When the doors opened at their destination, they quickly  stepped out and went to find someone who could inform them of her situation, instead they were directed to the waiting room.

Illya and Lizzie were already in there.  The duty nurse was watching him, but he was oblivious to her gaze, as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, holding his head in his hands, as he waited for news from surgery.

Napoleon went over to him, giving his friend’s shoulder a squeeze, showing him his support; the pain evident in the Russian’s eyes.

He finally released his grip, and sitting next to Lizzie; he gave her a kiss as he took her in his arms.

“I’ve tried to comfort him, but he just shrugs me off,” she whispered to him.

He wasn’t surprised; there were very few people Illya would allow near him at times like these.

“I’ll try and talk to him,” he replied, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

He sat next to his partner and again put a hand on his shoulder.

“Tovarisch, talk to me. What have they said?”

Illya sighed, “They have not said anything yet. She was taken into surgery straight away and we were told someone would be out when they knew more.”

April put her hand on his arm, silently offering him some of her strength. "She's made it this far, she'll pull through, you need to be strong for her."

"Mate, she's in the best place now, they'll do all they can," Mark offered.

It was at times like these that the Russian was glad he had let these people into his life.

Just then a white coated doctor came over to them.

“Mr. Kuryakin, if I could speak with you please,” he started to guide him away, so he could talk to him in private.

Illya stood still.  “No, they are my friends and they also need to know.”

The doctor relented and addressed the entire group.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not good news. Miss Andrews has severe internal injuries. How you have managed to keep her alive so far is beyond me.”

He looked round the group. “Is one of you medically trained?”

"Yes, I am a nurse in New York HQ," Lizzie confirmed.

“I understand that you put the drain in, that was very good thinking and almost certainly helped her to survive for so long.”

The doctor smiled, “And the bottle of Vodka helped too. I would like to commend you on your actions in a difficult situation and will be informing Mr. Waverly personally.”

He looked back to the Russian, “She is not out the woods yet though, and with the severity of her injuries, we just don’t know if her body has the strength to recover and heal.

"In all my years as a doctor, I have never come across anything like this, by all rights, she should not be alive at all.

“I would suggest that you all get something to eat and rest, Miss Andrews will be in surgery for a long time.” The doctor left them be.

Illya sat down, again with his head in his hands, as he felt helpless, a feeling he hated. He was torn; he wanted to stay, to be there when Rebecca woke up; but a part of him also wanted to do something, to release the anger and frustration that had built up within him.

Thinking about what the doctor had told them, something he said made him realise that even if she did come out of the operating room alive, she wouldn’t be conscious for a long time ‘we just don’t know if her body has the strength to recover and heal’. He decided at that moment what he was going to do.

He glanced to his partner and Napoleon saw the look in his partner's eyes, knowing what was going to come next and it wasn’t the prescribed food or rest.

“Napoleon, I want to go back and finish what we started.”

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[avrovulcan.livejournal.com]

Yes, Lizzie really came through. It was a big step to take for her. Thanks for reading.