"Kaboom~" for the Short Affair Challenge 9/2/19

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word 1 - Replace

-Prompt Word 2 – Hit

-Prompt Colour – Orange

Author: mrua7

Title: “Kaboom”

Word count: Approx. 965

Everything happened in the blink of an eye, perhaps even less time than that; the sky lit up in a vivid shade of orange with a massive explosion.

Not one of Illya Kuryakin’s making...for once. Something had gone wrong at the satrapy that he and Napoleon were observing at a fair distance via high powered binoculars.

Seconds later the concussion from the blast hit the two agents, sending them flying from the branches of large tree in which they’d perched themselves.

Napoleon was the first to awaken, though he had no idea how long he’d been unconscious. The air was filled with smoke, and he coughed several times as it drifted around him.

“Illya!” He called out to his partner as he searched the ground around him.

He heard a groan from above him. Kuryakin was hanging upside down; dangling by his ankle that was wedged between two branches.

Solo climbed the tree that was wrapped in climbing woody vines called Lianas, helping to get a better grip. As he reached Illya, he was momentarily distracted by the flames that now burned in the distance between them and where the satrapy had been located.

The landscape was scorched beyond recognition and fires were everywhere.

Napoleon quickly turned his attention back to his partner.

“Illya, wake up,” he slapped Kuryakin’s leg several times.

“Ow, I am awake. Stop doing that.”

“Give me your hand,” Napoleon reached out.

After several lurches upward, Illya finally grabbed hold of Solo’s outstretched hand and was pulled up. He groaned as his ankle was freed from the branches.

Giving it a quick look see, Napoleon determined the ankle might not be broken, just sprained, but with the swelling it was hard to tell.

They slowly worked their way down from the tree and once on the ground Illya tried putting weight on his foot, but let out a yelp.

“Not broken, bad sprain,” he hissed.

Napoleon held Illya by the waist, with his partner’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and together they hobbled the half mile distance back to their jeep.

They had to stop several times as the smoke was making both of them cough.

Finally they arrived at the jeep and after getting Illya settled in the passenger seat Napoleon sat behind the wheel and started the vehicle. He floored it, sending a stream of dirt and gravel in their wake as they drove off.

He headed to higher ground to get a better look, and both men sat their with their mouths hanging open at the utter devastation.

There was nothing left within a mile of what had been the satrapy, and where it had been located there was now an eerie pulsating white glow.

"Can not blame this on me,"Illya stuck his index finger in his mouth and holding it up, he checked the wind direction.

“If that was a small nuclear device, then we are in trouble. Best we leave Napoleon before the wind changes.”

“No argument from me tovarisch.”  He put the jeep in gear and drove off at top speed from the area.

Once many miles away they stopped to call in their report on the situation.

“Overseas relay-Waverly,” Napoleon said.

“Yes Mister Solo, your report?”

After filling in the Old Man on the explosion and after effects, they were ordered to get farther away. Their end of the assignment was over, hopefully with no ill effects other than Kuryakin’s sprained ankle.

“I will replace you with a team who can enter the area with proper protection and equipment to detect any radiation.”

“And if it’s not radioactive sir?” Napoleon asked.

“Then it is possibly the most powerful explosive ever developed, however that being said, perhaps the explosion that took place might indicate instability, and make it potentially useless.”

“One can only hope sir,” Illya spoke up. “Still I suspect THRUSH will continue their research if that is the case.”

“As do I young man. Report back to me when you have both been examined and treated by our medical team at our Lima office. Waverly out.”

“How are you feeling Illya,” Napoleon asked as he tucked his communicator in his breast pocket.

“My ankle is throbbing, but other than that, I am fine. And you?”

“Just a bit of a headache.” He opened a canteen, taking a swing of water before offering to his partner. Illya refused, but finally complied once he was ordered to do so.

Napoleon put the jeep in gear again, heading off through the rainforest toward Lima; they’d have a bit of a drive ahead of them...

After making it to the city, and the UNCLE field office, both men were checked over with geiger counters for any signs of exposure to radioactivity; thankfully there was none.

Illya’s ankle was wrapped and iced as there was little else that could be done for a sprain. He refused anything for the pain, as usual.

Napoleon contacted Waverly to report on their condition.

He barely reacted to the news and instead ordered his agents back to New York.

“Nothing like a little tea and sympathy,” Solo mumbled.” Speaking of which, how about we get something to eat before we catch our flight home? I don’t know about you but I could use a scotch.”

“A very good idea,” Illya said as he stood on his crutches.” I have always wanted to sample Peruvian dishes. Did you know they grow over 4000 varieties of potatoes.”

“I don’t think we’ll have time for you to sample them all,” Napoleon smirked.

“Tsk, and here I was looking forward to it,” Illya smirked, giving it right back to his partner.

It was Solo’s turn to roll his eyes...

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Good ending to a nice action fic.

Perhaps it's as well Illya's potato-sampling was nipped in the bud. With 4000 varieties, that's a hobby that could take up time.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! Glad you liked it. As hearty an appetite that IK has, I don't think even he would dare to try to sample that many. LOL!

[duckys-lady.livejournal.com]

Cute story! Sampling 4000 varieties of potatoes might ruin even IK's figure.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

LOL! I don't think he's seriously consider even trying, he is after all...a smart Russian. "D Thanks for reading and commenting!, Glad you liked it!

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

A very nice bit of action :-)
He may not want to eat all 4000 varieties of potato. You remember, of course, which particular drink is often made from potatoes...….

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I forgot about that 'particular' drink and potatoes...which is maybe why he likes spuds. :D

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Can we just use his middle name and call him a Spud-Nik ?

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Har-dee-har-har! You're in rare form girl! thanks!!! :D