section7mfu | "Kuryakin to the rescue" for the Short Affair Challenge 2019

Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word 1 - Vegetation

-Prompt Word 2 – Recover

-Prompt Colour – Yellow

Author: mrua7

Title: “Kuryakin to the rescue”

Word Count: Approximately 750

The vegetation was becoming thicker, making it all the more difficult for Illya Kuryakin to help his partner stay on his feet.

Napoleon was weak, feverish and his skin had taken on a yellow tinge...most likely jaundice, a condition in which the skin, whites of the eyes and mucous membranes turned yellow because of a high level of yellow-orange bile pigment called bilirubin.

Reabsorption of a large hematoma, which was a collection of clotted or partially clotted blood under the skin could possibly be the cause, considering Solo had been beaten badly while in the custody of a pair of overenthusiastic THRUSH goons; it made sense.

Illya had doubts Napoleon was suffering from any other causes of jaundice, such as viruses, gallstones, cancers or tumors of the pancreas. It could also have been caused by any drugs with which he had been injected, but that remained to be seen.

"Have to stop," Napoleon gasped. "Can't go on." Those words were very much unlike Napoleon Solo.

"The rendezvous point isn't much farther. Please, you can do it. Just put one foot in front of the other,"Illya whispered.

"Oh shut up!" Napoleon dropped to the ground, completely exhausted.

After escaping Kuryakin had retrieving his gun and communicator, he went back for Napoleon. There was no fear of any goons coming after them as Illya had dispatched them after which he freed his partner.

Now they were headed to a clearing but a mile or so away for an UNCLE helicopter to rescue them.

Kuryakin looked down at his friend; Napoleon was right, there was no way he could continue. Illya was in bad shape himself, having suffered at the hands of the goons as well before he managed his escape.

Illya pulled his communicator from his pocket. "Open Channel K."

"Yes Mister Kuryakin," a Comm. specialist replied.

"I need to speak to the helicopter pilot please."

"Once moment, we'll patch you through."

"Ag-ent Men-dez here Mis-ter Kur-yakin." His voice was odd because of the powerful vibration of the helicopter engine.

"We are unable to make the rendezvous point. Can you get a fix on my signal and lower a rescue basket to us? Mister Solo is unable to continue."

"Can -do sir...had a lot-of ex-per-ience with-those in Viet-nam."

Minutes later Illya could hear the sound of Huey helicopter blades whipping the air. His communicator warbled and he was told the litter was being lowered to their coordinates.

Hours later Napoleon was laying in a local hospital bed; it would take a few days for him to recover. The jaundice was, as Kuryakin suspected, not a real concern and no treatment was necessary, though both he and his partner were suffering from dehydration.

The Russian was being kept in the same room as his partner, mostly for observation as he had a number of contusions, abrasions and cuts, some of which required stitches.

When the nurses weren't looking, Illya managed to get his clothes, get dressed and escape yet again. Though a day later he returned in disguise to retrieve his partner.

His hair was darker, he had a false moustache and he wore a pair of dark framed eyeglasses. He was dressed casually, just jeans and a white shirt.

A flight had been arranged for them to return home via an UNCLE Learjet and it was awaiting their arrival at a local airport.

Napoleon was checked out under protest from the staff, and though one of the nurses recognized Illya because of his eyes...she said nothing.

As they settled in their seats on the jet, Napoleon finally spoke up. Both he and his partner had been less than loquacious the entire time since their rescue from the jungle.

"You did good partner; sorry I wasn't being of much help."

"You were unwell my friend. I was not about to leave you and merely found an alternate solution to our rescue."

"Hmmm, this coming from a man who always insists I leave him behind when he's been hurt."

"I think your lectures finally got through to me," Illya half smiled.

"About time tovarisch," Solo grinned.

The hostess, after flirting with Napoleon, offered to make drinks for them as soon as the flight levelled out, but when she saw they were both sound asleep, she headed back to the galley; no fun with Solo there this time.

She had a feeling it was going to be a quiet flight...for once.