[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] section7mfu
They were pinned down and they knew it as they found themselve in a dead-end canyon not far from the ranch that T.H.R.U.S.H. had commandeered for their latest satrap.

He and his partner, or rather his partner had managed to throw quite an explosive monkey wrench into the new operation, ostensibly putting it out of business even before it was up and running.That made for quite a few ruffled feathers.


Napoleon ducked his head as another bullet struck just a little too close for comfort off the top of the rock that he was crouching behind.  Illya was five feet away from him in a similar position, but the Russian had a small stream of blood trickling down from is eyelid; it was swollen shut as a chip of rock had ricocheted and struck him.


“How many rounds do you have left?” Kuryakin quietly called, hoping that his voice would not reverberate among the canyon walls as the gun shots were doing.


“Two left, and one full magazine. You?”


“Seven,” Illya answered somberly doing the math. ”That is seventeen between us. There are at least ten of them that I can see."


“Twelve,” Napoleon corrected.


They looked at each other, knowing the answer to the question they left unsaid. There was no other way out, no surrender, as they were now marked men. These birds had nothing but revenge on their agenda.


“It’s been an honor.” Napoleon said.


“Same for me my friend.”


“Ready tovarisch? This is our Butch Cassidy and the Sundance kid moment you know.Make every shot count."


“Who?”


“Nevermind...it really doesn’t matter.”


“Da. On the count of three?”


Solo nodded.


“Odin, dva, tri.”



The two U.N.C.L.E. agents stepped out together from behind their cover with their guns blazing, choosing their shots carefully.  They brought down seven of the men before Napoleon saw Illya fall to the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his own body as the bullets struck and he dropped to the sandy soil beside his partner.


He lay there as the light faded, looking over at Illya’s face, not knowing if he were dead or alive.

.


Napleon's eyes fluttered open; once everything came into focus he realized he was in a hospital bed. There was a pretty nurse looking down at him with a smile.


“About time you woke up handsome.”


An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth and as he reached to remove it, he felt her soft hand stopping him.


“You’re in medical in the Arizona office and I know what you want to ask...he’s gone.”


He shook his head in denial. No...his partner couldn’t be gone. “I survived, why couldn’t he have too. Why me and not him?”


She could see his distress as his heart-rate increased on the monitor. “He’s not dead. I said he’s gone. They took him to surgery about a half hour ago, and I’m pretty sure I can say that he’ll make it."


Napoleon finally managed to lift the mask from his face.


“How'd we get...?”


“I’m usually not privy to that sort of information Mr. Solo.  Bob Covington is here, he’s the CEA. I’ll get him for you.


A few minutes later, as well dressed dark-haired man in his late early thirties arrived.


“Sorry to meet the great Napoleon Solo under these circumstances but glad you're still with us. Mark Slate and April Dancer came to your rescue and surprised the rest of the T.H.R.U.S.H. agents that you two handn’t killed. I was told it was two against twelve. You were both lucky you and Mr. Kuryakin didn’t end up dead.”


Napoleon lifted the mask one more time. ”Solo luck,” he was barely able to whisper.


“Solo luck indeed,” April Dancer appeared in the doorway dressed in a white mini and cap, resembling an angel
of mercy.


“Bob if you’d excuse us I need to have a private conversation with Mr. Solo.”


“Sure April, see you at lunch.”


“Lunch?” Napoleon lifted his oxygen mask again.


“Jealous darling?”


“Me jealous, heaven forbid. Thanks gorgeous for coming to our rescuse. Illya and I had resigned ourselves to dying on this one.”


“I’ll bet you did but it wasn’t your time Napoleon Solo,”April’s voice became breathy as she leaned in close to his face. Their eyes met, and before either of them could blink their lips were locked together in a long...slow...kiss.


Napoleon wrapped his arms around her as best he could before his need for oxygen forced him to end their embrace.


“Why Miss Dancer..." he tried smiling as he held the oxygen mask to his face.


“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now, and when I thought you were dead...I regretted never having kissed you.”


“Was it worth the wait?”


“You’re impossible darling,” she laughed.


“No I’m serious, was it?”


“Yes it was.”


“Good. I think we need to talk once I get out of here. You know I like a girl who's good at taking charge."


“Mmm-huh. She leaned in again, lifting the mask and kissing him one more time as the oxygen filled both their lungs.

April gently placed her hand on his cheek. “Get well fast Napoleon.”


“I’ll try my best.”  He watched as April disappeared from his hospital room.


“Solo, when you’ve got it you’ve got it,” he said aloud, rather pleased with himself.


“I heard that,” April called out in a sing-song voice...

                                                             

Date: 2014-03-20 06:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lindafishes8.livejournal.com
Love this one M! The whole going out with guns blazing thing. Go ahead and kiss Napoleon, April. The Russian's mine!

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