"A bird's eye view" for the September PicFic Challenge

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The prompts:

Napoleon Solo was piloting an UNCLE helicopter with his partner seated in the passenger side. The aircraft was hangared at a small heliport in Floyd Bennett Field in Brooklyn.

Their destination was the Statue of Liberty located on Liberty Island is located in the Upper New York Bay within the waters of Jersey City, though it was one of the islands that were part of the borough of Manhattan in New York.

They’d be there in minutes, doing a flyover for anything suspicious going on around Lady Liberty. There’d been some chatter about an attempt to defile the statue.

The torch was a symbol of enlightenment that lights the way to freedom showing the path to Liberty. Even the Statue's official name represented her most important symbol "Liberty Enlightening the World.’

The torch was been closed since the ‘Black Tom’ explosion in July of 1916, and was one of the largest acts of sabotage to the nation prior to the event of Pearl Harbor

Access to the torch is only via a narrow 40ft. ladder used by National Park Service members to maintain the floodlights lighting the torch.

Kuryakin was studying the area directly below them with a pair of high powered binoculars.

The island should have been empty as the last ferry departed around 3:30, since it was the ‘off season’ with not as many tourists.

“There!” Illya said. His voice sounded canned because of the microphone on his head set.

There on exterior, near the crown of the statue was a man and he was making his way out to the torch.

“He has dynamite in his hand.”

“Take him out Illya,” Napoleon ordered.

Kuryakin raised his weapon, not an UNCLE carbine but instead he held an M21 sniper rifle, a version of the M14, but tooled for accuracy; it was the primary semi-automatic rifle for the war in Vietnam.

The Russian was known for his deadly accuracy with any weapon, but he was simply the best at long range shots.

The UNCLE mandate regarding the use of sleep darts rather than live rounds could be over ridden in a case such as this.

If a dart was used, the man would simply fall to his death, better he be eliminated now; that was merciful in the eyes of Kuryakin.

Illya carefully aimed, getting the man in his sights just as he looked up at the helicopter. He knew he’d been caught, but continued to move towards the torch.

“BANG!”

One shot was all it took. The would-be terrorist seeking to extinguish the Light of Liberty, teetered for a moment before he died and toppled down to the base of the statue.

“Good shot tovarisch.”

Illya said nothing as he picked up the shell casing, storing it and the rifle back in its canvas case.

“It’s an amazing view of the statue from up here isn’t it?” Napoleon asked.

Illya was momentarily distracted, remembering the first time he saw the majestic statue. He wasn’t an UNCLE agent then, and was on assignment to accompany a high ranking Soviet official to the United Nations.

It was an uneventful trip, none of those who’d drawn this duty dare to go sightseeing, as there were always KGB agents in the vicinity to assure there’d be no defections.

“Hmm? Did you say something?’ Illya finally came to his senses.

“I said the view of the statue is amazing.”

“Yes it is, one that most people do not get to see, I imagine.”

Napoleon called in to Headquarters, informing Mister Waverly of their success.

A cleanup crew was dispatched to the island and the body was retrieved.

“Give me your tired, your poor,Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” Napoleon recited the words inscribed on a plaque at the base of the statue.

“Yes, the words of Emma Lazarus,” Illya replied.

“To some Americans her words are our national credo,” Napoleon said.

“I have heard others say they are a national curse. Credo? Curse? Both? Neither?”

“Interesting thoughts tovarisch, but I’d like to think that it’s our credo.”

“You are ever the optimist my friend,” Illya clapped his partner on the shoulder.

“And you’re the pessimist,” Napoleon smile. “That’s why we work so well together, we’re like Yin and Yang.

“Yes, the Dao, a Chinese word meaning 'the Way', and  represents the 'Way of Nature', according to the Chinese poets and philosophers. I like your thought process on this Napoleon.”

“Why thank you partner; let’s head back and go get some lunch before Mister Waverly gives us another assignment.”

“No argument from me my friend.”

The talk of food didn’t bring a smile to the Russian’s lips. What he had just done still affected him, though to look at him no one would think that, even Solo.

Though Illya was good at his job when it came to killing, he didn’t like it.

It was his dark side, that vicious nature of his that took over to get jobs done such as this one. He would then lock it back away, sublimating it and keeping it hidden until it was needed again. It was necessary in order to keep himself from going mad.

Days later the terrorist was identified as a member of a small facist group that was seeking to establish itself in the United States as it had in Europe, though its stronghold there had been greatly diminished after the war.

“Someone new to drive us crazy,” Napoleon said after reading the report.

“Does it really matter? They are all crazy...fascists, THRUSH, and every megalomaniac we have ever encountered.”

“Some would include Communists and Socialists in your list of crazies tovarisch.”

“There is no need to insult me. You know that I am a Communist.”

“Yes, but I’ve noticed you’ve grown very comfortable living here in the  United States.”

“True, you Americans are not the monsters we were told you were.”

“Monsters, really?” Napoleon seemed surprised.

“My friend, you have no idea.”

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