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[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: The Short Affair

-Prompt Word 1 - Hope

-Prompt Word 2 – Attic

-Prompt Colour – Black

Author: mrua7

Title: 'Origin of the species'

Word count: approx. 700

Kuryakin’s black turtleneck had been sliced to shreds little by little as he dangled by his bound wrists from a hook in the ceiling of a windowless room.

Somehow he’d triggered an alarm when the entered the attic of the old Victorian mansion, via the roof and a louvered vent.

His intent was to run wires down the inner walls, planting sensitive bugs to listen in to the goings on at this suspected THRUSH lair.

Though his skin was intact, it wouldn’t be long before his interrogator would draw blood with his razor sharp scalpel.

“Kuryakin, are you familiar with Darwin’s Origin of the Species?”

“Yes, though some of its contents are somewhat ...dated, given it was published in 1859. The correct title is 'On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life.'

“Tsk...I’m referring specifically to his theory that organisms gradually evolve through natural selection. Through that process organisms with genetic variations that suit their environment tend to propagate more descendants than organisms of the same species that lack the variation, thus influencing the overall genetic makeup of the species.”

If Illya could have shrugged, he would have done so, instead he merely rolled his eyes.

“You see, THRUSH has joined in speeding up the process of natural selection, ridding the world of what we refer to as undesirables. Through our selection process, only the finest specimens of humanity will remain...though it’ll be those who are more, shall we say, compliant to our way of doing things.”

“So you do not want the best, you want the ones who can be dominated and led like sheep to the slaughter if you decide that it suits your purposes.”

“Ahhh, now you are getting it. Our scientists have deemed that you possess the traits of someone that we would want as part of our new world order...not one of the sheep, but let’s say a shepherd.  Might you be interested Mister Kuryakin, or do I begin to flay you alive?”

“Might I have time to think over your offer, perhaps I can get back to you when I retire from the U.N.C.L.E. that is if THRUSH is even still around.”

“Pity Kuryakin, you would have made an excellent addition to the genetic makeup of the new world order.”

He reached out, running the tip of the scalpel across Illya’s abdomen.

The Russian hissed through gritted teeth.

“Now for the next cut, two more and I’ll peel that piece of skin away. That’s how it’s going to happen, you fool…one small strip at a time.”

The interrogator suddenly screamed as his blade was sent flying from his hand; he turned to face Napoleon Solo who hit him with an uppercut to the jaw, knocking him senseless and sending  the man unconscious to the flagstone floor.

“I had given up hope you would arrive on time,”Illya said as his partner cut him loose.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I was a bit delayed by about six guards and one beautiful but deadly woman.”

“Madame Blixen? Please tell me you did not...you and she?”

“Come on Illya, even I can resist a woman from time to time.”

“I am glad this was one of those times,” Illya relieved the interrogator of his jacket, and put it on. There was a nearby towel that he grabbed to put pressure on the bleeding wound across his stomach.

“No more need for bugs here,” he said. “I think Mister Waverly will be wanting this place destroyed.”

“Already ahead of you tovarisch. I have explosives set to blow even as we speak, “Solo looked at his wristwatch,” in about five minutes.”

“Cutting it a bit close,” Illya said.

“Well I set the timers for thirty minutes but as I said, I was delayed. So let’s quit the chatter and get out of here.”

“No arguments from me my friend.”

Once outside the agents stood at a distance and watched as the structure was blown to smithereens; given its age that was no surprise. 

It would be reported as a gas leak, with no survivors...