When Plans Don't Go To Plan - Part Thirteen (A)

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I'm having to post in two parts due to length.

llya's carefully made plans don't quite go right!

Link to Part Twelve: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/247618.html

Part Thirteen (A) Below The Cut.

Chapter 13: Back to work

He stirred briefly, it felt good knowing he was back home. Putting his arm out, he pulled Rebecca to him, she sighed as she snuggled closer. He savored the moment, relishing the feel of her body next to his before falling asleep again.

Illya slowly woke. No longer feeling her lying next to him, he briefly wondered where she’d gone; seeing Becca lying unconscious in the other bed, brought him crashing back to reality.

He crossed over to her.

“Rebecca, it is time you start to fight. You need to wake up, vozlyublennyy.”

He tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from her eye before leaning over to kiss her forehead.

There was a change of clothing lying on the chair, presumably left there by Lizzie. He had heard someone moving around the bed checking Becca’s vitals, though he didn’t let on that he was aware they were there.

Illya freshened up in the bathroom inRebecca’s room, washing his face and brushing his teeth with the necessary toiletries from his travel kit when Napoleon came in, stopping by the bed.

The Russian watched from the bathroom as his partner gently took Rebecca’s hand in his.

“How's she doing?” He asked as Illya exited the bathroom with a towel still draped over his shoulder.

“We had a scare during the night. Her heart stopped. The doctor said it was caused by the flight, since then, there has at least been no change for the worse.”

“But she's okay now?"

“The Doctor does not think it has caused any further complications,” Illya replied, running his finger along her cheek.

“That at least is some good news my friend. By the way, The Old Man wants to see us.”

“What, now?”

“Yes, that’s one of the reasons I’m here, to tell you we've been summoned.”

“Well, in that case, take me to your leader.”

Napoleon rolled his eyes, “I hope you’re not gonna tell me you’ve always wanted to say that. He’s your leader too you know.”

“Fine, I will not tell you I have always wanted to say that then,” Illya smiled.

Solo just shook his head, glad to see his friend at least trying to return to his old self.

Five minutes later they were seated, along with April and Mark, in Waverly’s office. They waited patiently and in silence for him to finish packing his pipe before he looked up, finally acknowledging their presence.

“I know you are all concerned for Miss Andrews, and to say the least, she is in the most capable hands possible. At this time, the doctors are doing all they can for her. However, trouble waits for no one, and we need to get you all back to work.”

He looked to them all, making his point clear. Illya fidgeted, looking down at his hands. Mr. Waverly was right, much as the thought of having to leave Rebecca pained him; THRUSH, and others like them, wouldn't be putting their schemes on hold.

The Old Man picked up a file, briefly looking through it, before placing it on the table, next to some others. He spun the conference table, sending them around to his CEA, and in turn, Napoleon handed copies to the others.

"I need you to leave for Cairo this afternoon. It seems THRUSH is up to something. Our office there has come across coded messages they cannot decipher. Mr. Kuryakin, they need your skills to break this code."

"Are there copies of the messages in here?" Illya asked as he quickly skimmed through the file.

"Yes, there are six in total, though more have arrived since we received those copies."

"I will start work on them immediately," the Russian replied.

"Please do, Mr. Kuryakin. Cairo has also requested additional assistance once it’s discovered what THRUSH is up to. They are a smaller field office and lack the manpower to handle a larger operation, should the need arise.”

“I take it you want us to assess the situation while Mr. Kuryakin works on breaking the code,” Napoleon stated.

"Yes, quite so, Mr. Solo. I want all four of you on the next available flight. Now dismissed. Ah Mr. Solo if you would be so kind as to stay a moment please.”

Napoleon stood waiting, seeing Illya giving an inquiring glance as he left the room.

“Mr. Solo, I know that Mr. Kuryakin and Miss Andrews are, shall I say, a bit more than just friends, and her current situation is a major concern to him. However, I cannot allow him to neglect his duties as an U.N.C.L.E agent. I need him operating at one-hundred percent.

I would like your opinion, as Chief Enforcement Agent, as to whether you think he will be capable of putting his full energies and attention to this assignment. If not, then I am afraid I will have to reassign him to lesser duties.”

“I know that he cares for Miss Andrews very deeply, and he’s worried for her; but I also know that when he’s on an assignment, the success of that will always come first. I trust him with my life, sir. He won’t let us down.”

“Good, I hoped that would be the case. Your input reaffirmed what I already believed. Alright Mr. Solo, you are dismissed.”

“Thank you sir.”

Napoleon left, heading straight to the office he shared with his partner. April and Mark were there looking over the files with Illya. Napoleon saw the inquiring look in his partner’s eyes.

“It’s okay, tovarisch. The Old Man just wanted to know if you’re going to be up to taking part in this, considering Rebecca's current condition.”

“And... what did you tell him?”

“I said you’d be your usual dour Russian self, looking for a fight and wouldn’t be a risk to the assignment.”

“Humph. Thank you... I think. I do not know if I should be happy with that or not, but I am ready for some action. I know Rebecca will be looked after and Lizzie will be with her."

“I know, partner mine, I know. Well let’s have a look at this and see what we can figure out.”

Later that morning, Illya checked on Rebecca before leaving for their flight.

He took her hand and held it to his heart as he ran his other hand along her cheek, watching her for several minutes.

"I have to go for a while vozlyublennyy, I will return as soon as I can."

He kissed her hand before laying it back on the bed.

Steeling himself, Illya turned towards the door and felt he was as ready as he could be to face the assignment.

The Russian studied the coded messages most of the flight to Cairo. They revealed that THRUSH had located an undiscovered Egyptian tomb with treasure to rival that of Tutankhamun's.

Their intent was to add the horde to their funds which would in effect nearly double their already quite substantial assets.

It took two weeks to find and infiltrate the small satrapy. Using cunning, ingenuity and the help of tracers, they eventually located the burial site in the Valley of the Kings.

With the backing of some agents from the local office, they secured the precious artifacts from THRUSH and ensured they were passed to the relevant authorities.

They returned to New York with nothing more than a few minor cuts and bruises, apart from sand that seemed to get anywhere and everywhere.

Napoleon was almost tempted to see if Del Floria had anything to remove it from his clothing once and for all. Illya was just glad to be out of the intense heat, he had managed to avoid heatstroke this time, but had obtained a slight tan, much to the amusement of his partner.

After giving their reports on the Cairo Affair, Illya headed straight up to Medical. Waverly could sense the man’s anxiousness and kept their meeting brief. The team had functioned successfully and that’s what was most important. He would read the ‘detail’ once his agents filed their written reports. Kuryakin was always prompt about that, while his partner was a little more lax. No matter, the reports eventually arrive, to be added to the pile of other reports that Alexander Waverly needed to review.

Illya, though anxious to see Rebecca, felt a jab of hesitation before entering her room. He’d gotten reports on her condition while away, but still the reality of seeing her was still shocking to him. He knew she had been moved off the Jet’s equipment, and had been showing some signs of improvement, though that didn’t make him worry any less.

Lizzie saw the Russian standing in the doorway and greeted him.

“She’s the same since I last spoke to you. Go, see her.” Lizzie reached out, touching her hand to his shoulder in encouragement.

She caught his smile, though she could see the worry in his eyes.

“Da, thank you. It was just a shock seeing her again like this. I was hoping she would look better somehow after two weeks.”

Lizzie smiled back, giving his shoulder a squeeze before he walked over to the bed.

He looked down at her laying in the bed, realizing she looked the same as she did when he said goodbye to her two weeks ago. Illya sat with her for a few minutes, listening to the equipment as it did its job.

He finally rose from his chair. “I am here, moya lyubov” he whispered to her.” I am going to have a shower and something to eat and then I will be right back.”

Just over an hour later he returned and sat holding her hand, listening again to the steady rhythm of the machines surrounding her and, as in the past, the sounds lulled him asleep.

He woke some time later, not knowing how long he’d dozed, but guessing it had been some time from the stiffness of his muscles. He climbed into the other bed across from her with a groan, beginning his routine again of keeping his vigil over her, and not leaving unless he had to.

{C}{C}{C}Link To Part Thirteen (B): http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/253123.html