"Moosie" for National Cat Day

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Double prompt PicFic 2018

The alleyway was dimly lit with little light except for what was shining down from the upper floors of the buildings that lined one side it and at the rear.

There was cobblestone, but most of it was covered with dirt and broken glass...not exactly an inviting place in which to be.

A black cat appeared out of nowhere, as they often do; was intent on capturing something, whether it was a mouse wasn’t clear.

Solo’s destination was at at rear of the alley, a building with a lit cross above its door.

As he walked towards it he heard footsteps behind him and slowly he drew his weapon from his shoulder holster, expecting the worst.

“Psss psss pssst. Here Moosie, come on kitty.” A girl’s voice called out.

Ducking out of sight, Napoleon hid in the shadows while a young blonde gathered up the cat he’d seen a moment ago.

“There you are Moosie, you bad boy!” She hesitated. “Mister you can come out, I saw you already.”

Napoleon did so, keeping his gun hidden behind his back as he looked rather sheepishly at her. He thought he’d been perfectly evasive, but that was apparently not the case.

“If I were you I’d take your cat and get out of here young lady, it isn’t safe. It’s a rough place.”

The dirty faced girl, he guessed to be around ten years of age, now held the black cat in her arms.

“You some kinda cop? Something going down?” She asked.

“Honey, I’m not going to tell you again. Amscray!” He pointed to the entrance of the alleyway, but it was too late.

Blocking her way were the silhouettes of three men, each of them holding a THRUSH rifle, their red night scopes glowing. The guns were pointing directly at Napoleon.

“Come quietly Solo and nobody gets hurt. You lead us to Kuryakin and everything will be fine, that’s a promise.” The voice echoed in the alleyway.

“THRUSH seldom keeps its word.” Solo called back.

Without telegraphing his next move, Napoleon dove, grabbing the girl, pulling her with him behind an old abandoned car just as the first shots ricocheted above their heads. The cat unfortunately went flying from the her arms, disappearing into the shadows.

“Moosie!” She shrieked.

“Will be fine!”Napoleon pushed her farther back, shielding her with his body while getting off a couple of shots.

“You wanna get the kid killed Solo...keep shooting. We can’t guarantee a bullet won’t hit her.”

He knew that to be the truth and turning to the girl he whispered to her.

“What’s your name sweetheart?”

“Maggie Kelly”

“My name is Napoleon Solo, I’m one of the good guys,” he spoke softly.“These are very bad men Maggie, so want you to get underneath the car and no matter what you hear, don’t make a sound. Please promise me you’ll stay there until I tell you it’s safe to come out? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

She was now wide eyed with fear, and her worries about her cat were driven from her head.

She nodded her head, afraid to speak now.

“As soon as I stand up and step out from behind the car you get under it, okay?”

She nodded again.

“All right, I’m coming out,” Napoleon called.

He held up his gun, dangling it on his index finger by the trigger guard in front of himself. In his left hand he held a magazine, letting the Thrushies think his gun was no longer loaded when in fact it still had its magazine with seven bullets remaining, one of them in the chamber.

“Forget about the kid, deal?”

“Yeah that’s fine Solo. Just come towards us and drop your gun.”

Two shots rang out from one of the upper floors of the Christ Chapel Community Soup Kitchen; the shooter quickly downed two of the Thrushmen with deadly accuracy.

Napoleon let out a gasp as a bullet grazed him in the shoulder, but still he dove to the ground, spinning his gun into his hand and getting off a single shot, killing the last goon who’d hit the dirt as well.

Solo rose, putting pressure on his bloody shoulder with his hand as he checked the bodies, making sure they were all dead.

April Dancer dashed through the door of the soup kitchen, racing towards Solo with an UNCLE carbine in her hand.

“Are you badly hurt?” She took hold of him.

“I’ll be fine. I’m okay.” He put his other arm around her and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “Nice shooting, thank you.”

He suddenly remembered the girl.

“Maggie, you can come out now, but I want you to go straight into the soup kitchen. Don’t stop to look at anything.”

“That’s okay Napoleon, I’ve seen a dead body before. This is a rough place, remember?”

He still blocked her way and pointed to the kitchen door.

“Who’s she, your wife?”Maggie asked.

“Umm, no she’s not.”

“Girlfriend?”

“I’m not that either,” this time Dancer answered. “My name is April and I work with Napoleon.”

“So you’re a lady cop?” The girl assumed that as she looked Dancer up and down.

“You don’t look much like a cop.” But apparently April met with Maggie’s approval and together they headed into the soup kitchen.

“April, is Illya okay?” Napoleon called out.

“He will be once we get a doctor to take a look at him. He took a really bad hit to the head after he fell down a flight of stairs. He might have a few broken bones not to mention a concussion.”

“And the information?”

“I’m afraid it’s in his head, so until he comes to…”

“Gotcha.” Solo waited until she and the Maggie were inside before pulling his communicator.

“Open Channel D- Waverly.”

“Yes Mister Solo, what have you to report?”

“Well, we’re all still alive sir.”

“One could only hope that would be the case Mister Solo, and the information?”

“Is in the head of one unconscious Russian UNCLE agent.”

“Oh, well... then I presume you’ll be needing medical transport?”

“Yes sir, for myself as well, nothing major, just nicked by a bullet in the shoulder. We’ll need a cleanup team for three dead birds.”

“Very well I’ll have everything set in motion immediately. Waverly…”

“Just one more thing sir?”

“Yes Mister Solo?”

“Could someone bring a cat carrier and a can of tuna fish?”

“Do I really want to know Mister Solo?”

“Nothing important sir, just a little favor for an innocent who was somewhat involved.”

“A woman?” The Old Man sighed.

“No sir, a child.”

Injured?”

“No, but her cat was scared off in the fracas so if the cleanup team could help her catch him, that would be good.”

“Very well, I think we can manage that. What’s the cat’s name?”

“Moosie.”

“Moosie?” Waverly repeated with amusement. “Quite a coincidence as I once had a cat by that name. He was a monstrous black cat, quite a good mouser too.”

“Yes sir that is definitely a coincidence.”

“I’ll expect your report once you’ve gotten your injury taken care of in the Medical Suite, and of course in the meantime we’ll have to wait for your partner to return to consciousness. Waverly out.”

Napoleon placed his communicator back into his jacket pocket as he headed into the soup kitchen, hoping they had some hot black coffee as he figured it was going to be a long night.

He suddenly smiled,”Moosie cat, Poosey cat where are you kitty kitty? Here kitty kitty.”