[identity profile] avrovulcan.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu
llya's carefully made plans don't quite go right!

Link to Part Eleven (A): http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/239682.html
Link to Part Eleven (B): http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/239905.html

Part Twelve Below The Cut.

plans-ch12


Chapter 12:

Illya woke next morning with cramped muscles from sleeping in the chair and he slowly stretched and massaged his limbs to try and help relieve the tightness. Looking over to Rebecca, checking her readings on the monitor as well as her chart,  he saw there had been no change in her condition overnight.

"I wish you were awake, but I will take comfort in that you are no worse," he whispered, kissing her gently on the cheek.

He looked at himself in a mirror that hung on the wall, noting his disheveled condition.

“I need to change and freshen up, Becca, and I am starving.” He imagined he could hear her laughing at the last comment, “I will be back soon.”

He passed April on the way to the commissary, “Hungry again Illya?”

“Of course, you know me,” he grinned.

“How’s Rebecca today, she ready for the flight?”

“Yes, she has been prepared for the transfer, and there has been no change. As long as she is stable, that will be good for the trip. I will see you later.”  He ducked through the commissary door, first making a strong cup of tea for himself and deciding on a ‘Full English Fry-up' for breakfast.

Once his appetite had been satisfied, he returned to Becca’s room, finding Dr. Parker there supervising his staff. The medical equipment had been disconnected from the main power supply, and was now running on batteries; once they arrived, it would all be connected to the aircraft’s power supply.

The physician looked up, seeing Illya standing to the side out of the way. Napoleon walked in the door behind him, remaining to the side as well.

"Right, Mr. Kuryakin, I believe you are accompanying us in the helicopter to the airport."

"Yes, doctor, both myself and Lizzie... er, Miss Johnson are coming with you."

"Okay, we'll be leaving in 15 minutes," Dr. Parker replied.

"We'll follow by car and meet you at the airport, Illya," Napoleon added.

"Da, we will see you there." The Russian replied.

Napoleon left first with April, Mark and Penny. Weaving their way through the late morning traffic, they encountered no major hold ups and arrived at the airport within thirty minutes, arriving not long after the helicopter.

Illya and Lizzie's journey by helicopter was quick and problem free.  They landed close to the UNCLE jet and easily transferred Rebecca over to the waiting plane; the seats on one side having been removed to make way for the gurney as well as the equipment.

"Napoleon's here." Lizzie called, as she brought the last of their things across from the helicopter.

"Good, we are about ready to leave," Illya replied as he finished checking that everything was secure.

"Everything looks good Mr. Kuryakin, I'm happy to leave when everyone else is aboard." Dr. Parker said.

"Thank you."

"Okay, tovarish,” Napoleon said. “Marks just stowing the rest of our luggage."

Napoleon took care of the ground checks outside the jet, while Illya performed his systems check. He remembered doing them with Rebecca only days before, though it seemed a lifetime ago.

Glancing over to the empty seat next to him, a lump caught in his throat, as he wondered if his Becca would ever take the copilot's position with him again. What should have been an enjoyable vacation, quickly turned into near tragedy, and with the severity of her injuries he knew there was no guarantee she would recover.

"Moya lyubov, you have to fight. Please come back to me." He whispered, as in his minds eye, he saw Rebecca sat to his right, before looking away and continuing with the checks.

Napoleon joined Illya at the flight deck ten minutes later; checking everyone was settled, as he passed through the cabin to the co-pilots seat.

"Okay, I think we're all good to go, my friend. I'd better contact The Old Man." Solo said as he engaged his communicator.

"Open Channel D, overseas relay."

"Waverly here. Good to hear from you, Mr. Solo. I take it you will be leaving London shortly."

"Yes sir, we're currently waiting for clearance and will be refueling at Shannon before returning to La Guardia."

"I understand. I believe your estimated arrival time is late evening."

"Yes sir, around 7:30 your time. We'll need a helicopter to meet us, to transfer Miss Andrews to Headquarters, please sir."

“I will have Medic 1 ready for you when you arrive. Thank you for keeping me informed, Mr. Solo.”

“Thank you, Sir. We will contact you again when we are approximately an hour away.”

“Please do. I will await your return. Oh and gentlemen, please fly carefully.”

“Yes sir, we will. Solo out. Okay, partner mine, are we ready?”

“Yes, we are. We just received clearance to proceed, it is now time to go home.” The Russian replied with a sense of relief coloring his voice as he gently nosed the aircraft with its precious passenger towards the runway.

It was a smooth take off and within an hour they were refueling at Shannon. Cormac was there to greet them, having been alerted they would be stopping there briefly.

“Thank you for your help, Cormac.” Napoleon said as he shook the Irishman’s hand.

“You’re welcome, I just wish we had met under better circumstances,” he replied.

“Yes, so do we. Maybe the next time will be less eventful, although I am pleased to see you are now carrying your gun,” Illya flashed him a small smile.

“Yeah, never know when you might need it. I supposed it can get a little interesting here sometimes, so better to be prepared,” Cormac grinned.

“Take care of yourself.” Napoleon and Illya said as they walked together, making their way back to the aircraft.

"You too," Cormac called out, as he watched them board the jet.

The aircraft was started up quickly as Illya received his instructions from the tower.

“Lear-niner-three-sixer, you are cleared for taxi.”

“Roger tower, Lear-niner-three-sixer en route to runway 24.”

They sat at the end of the taxiway, waiting for final clearance to be granted.

“Lear-niner-three-sixer, please hold your position and wait for an incoming aircraft.”

“Roger tower, holding.”

It seemed like a long two minutes as they waited for it to land and once it taxied past them they were finally cleared for takeoff.

“Roger tower, turning onto runway 24.”

“Lear-niner-three-sixer, proceed to 9000 feet on heading 265. And Godspeed, niner-three-sixer.”

“Thank you tower, over and out.”

They were on their way home at last and knowing that, they all started to relax. After a few hours Napoleon took over the controls while Illya went to see Rebecca.

He smiled as he saw Lizzie, Penny and April fast asleep and Mark very nearly and assumed it was the rhythmic sound of the machines that had lulled them off, just as they had done to him.

Dr. Parker was reading as he sat next to Becca, seemingly oblivious to the noises.

“How is she?”

“Doing well, just as long as we keep below 12000 feet she shouldn't have any problems with the air pressure and we should be fine. It’s also a perfect opportunity to see how well this jet performs in its medical role.”

“That is good, I would like to thank you for accompanying us. I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” the doctor replied.

The Russian sat with her for just a few minutes. Though he would have liked to stay longer; he didn’t want to leave Napoleon on his own for too long, and he could always come back and see her during the flight.

Roughly an hour before they were due to arrive at La Guardia,  they contacted Mr. Waverly.

"We're on schedule and should be arriving within the hour, sir," Napoleon said into his communicator.

"Medic 1 is already enroute to the airport, Mr. Solo. It is large enough to accommodate you all and the equipment," Waverly replied.

"Thank you, sir. Solo out."

They landed in New York on time and taxied to the UNCLE section of the airport; stopping close to the helicopter, and enabling a quick transfer to the waiting aircraft.

Within twenty minutes of landing, they were on their way to Headquarters. By the time they arrived, they were all exhausted.

Mr. Waverly had called in his personal physician, Dr. Towers, who met them at the roof entrance and accompanied them down into Medical.

Dr. Parker appraised him of Rebeccas condition, and after that, Dr. Towers took over, supervising his staff as they moved the patient to the room that had been prepared for her.

"We'll leave her on the jet’s equipment until the morning to reduce any chance of distress after the long day she’s had."

"Yes, Dr. Towers," one of the nurses replied.

"I want her monitored closely for the evening. Her heart rate and blood pressure are a little high, but I think it's due to the flight."

"I will set up a rota for monitoring her through the night, Doctor," another nurse replied, as she busily attended to her patient.

He glanced over to where Illya was standing, watching the staff carefully as they followed the physician’s orders.

"Okay Mr. Kuryakin, I think it might be a good idea for you to get something to eat while we tend to Miss Andrews."

"I will come back later,” he answered reluctantly, heading to the commissary where the others had been waiting.

“How is she tovarisch?” His partner asked quietly.

“Her heart rate and B.P. are slightly elevated, but the doctor said that was to be expected because of the length of the flight.”

“I think we should get something to eat and some rest. It’s been a long day,” April said as she went to see what was on the menu.

“Yes, I am starving,” Illya said as he followed her.

Napoleon smiled and shook his head.“Glad to see you more like yourself; If you weren’t hungry I’d be sending you back to Medical for a check-up.”

"I am so hungry I could eat a horse; I wonder if that is what the mystery meat is?” He tried cracking a joke.
The others finally left, except for April who put off going home for as long as possible. She thought it better to stay behind and keep Illya company.

Dr Towers was finishing his observations as they walked into Rebecca’s room; it was quieter now that everyone else had left.

“Ah, Mr. Kuryakin. I'm pleased to say she seems to have coped well with the flight and, hopefully, we’ll move her onto our own equipment tomorrow.”

“That is good to know, thank you Doctor.” April took note that Illya’s stiffness finally seemed to relax a bit.

“There is a spare bed, please use it. I know you won’t want to leave her," Dr. Towers said as he left the room.

April yawned as she stood alongside the hospital bed after the doctor left.

Illya looked at her, seeing how tired she was. “Thank you for staying, but you look shattered, go home and get some sleep, April.”

“Yes, sleep does sound good.” She looked towards Rebecca, “Dr. Towers will do everything he can for her, Illya”. She reached out, resting her hand on his shoulder in assurance.

“I know.” He placed his hand on hers, nodding his thanks.

April bid him goodnight, leaving the Russian alone with Becca.

“We are home now zavetnyy. I am missing you. Please come back to me?” He whispered as he kissed her goodnight.

He held her hand for a while, searching for any sign that she might have heard him, but there was none. Sighing, he settled down in the spare bed for the night.

Lying on his back, he listened to the noises in the room, the same steady rhythms that he had heard for the past few days. He turned onto his side so he could see her before closing his eyes, letting those familiar sounds promptly lull him asleep.

He didn’t think he’d been dreaming but as his eyes opened, he felt uneasy.  Something was wrong, but he couldn’t work out what it was, then it came to him, the beeping of the heart monitor had changed, it was quicker than before.

He went over to examine the machine, the rate was increasing, the numbers steadily rising; he immediately hit the panic button. Just as the doctor and nurses came running into her room, the beeping stopped. She was coding.

He moved out of the way as the crash cart was rushed into the room. Her heart had stopped and he knew they didn’t need him in the way.

Illya forced himself to sit on his bed, watching and silently willing her to fight for her life.

The medical staff  worked on her furiously and managed to get her heart going again.  Seeing the worried look in the Russian’s eyes, Dr. Towers sat next to him.

“I think she’ll be all right now. I was half expecting it, that’s why I was still here. I anticipated that her heart would stop as a result of the flight. You know how you, yourself feel after a long flight like that; it takes time for the body to adjust, but because her body didn’t have the strength to cope, it put too much strain on her heart.”

Illya said nothing in response, and Dr. Towers got off the bed, heading for the door. He paused, turning back again towards the agent.

“We were checking on her regularly through the night, but we thought that you would also alert us, knowing how you Section two’s can sense things so quickly.”

“Yes, I did think you reacted to the alarm rather quickly. Thank you Doctor.”

When Dr. Towers left, Illya went over to Becca, watching her for a while before going back to bed,  all the while wondering how the next few days would be and if she was ever going to wake.

Date: 2013-02-21 11:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jkkitty.livejournal.com
Another good chapter

Date: 2013-02-22 12:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
Lots of ups and down, angst and relief. Illya wondering will she really wake. That's surely weighing heavily on him.

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Section VII Propaganda and Public Relations

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