section7mfu | The Yellowstone Affair Chapter 9

Beginning of story can be found here: http://pactnmmt.livejournal.com/10718.html

Author’s note: this chapter has some rough language

The long shadows of the late afternoon rapidly merged as one as the sun dipped behind the mountains and the evening light succumbed to darkness. Illya checked his chronometer. 16:40. He decided to wait another half hour before beginning his approach on the cabin. Meanwhile, he used the time to munch on some gorp savoring the sweetness of the dried fruit and chocolate. He finished it with a long drink of water. Checking his demolitions bag and his rifle one more time, the camouflaged agent left his hiding place and began the descent down the hill.

He was able to use the trees as cover for most of the descent, however the last 150 yards or so to the cabin left him out in the open. His only cover was the darkness of the night. He made the decision to work his way around the area so that he would approach from behind the storage shed. The small building would help to block the sight of his approach. He was keenly aware that his tracks in the snow would be visible to the occupants in the cabin if they should venture past the storage shed.

Kuryakin crouched behind the hidden corner of the shed as he watched the area. He decided to plant the first set of explosives in the building where the laser gun was located. Looking in the direction of the cabin once more, he left the protection of the storage shed and moved off to his left. The dark shape of the next outbuilding stood silhouetted against the white snow on the hill beyond it.

Ernie returned the mic and the headphones of the wireless radio to their hooks and turned to his companions. “Well, boys, we’re pulling out early tomorrow morning.”

“Why the change in plans?”

“THRUSH headquarters is getting a bit worried. They say there ain’t been any chatter over the airwaves, public or private, regarding the downed plane which means someone wants to keep it secret and probably starting an investigation. Boss wants us out of here, pronto!”

Bill sighed, “Alright. You and Gene head out to the shed and break down the laser. Make sure it’s packed securely in its boxes, we don’t want anything to break. I’ll head out to the storage shed and pack up the supplies. We’ll work together on packing the gear in here. Once everything is packed up we hit the sack and load the ‘copter in the morning.”

All three began to gear up for going outdoors. Gene stepped out of the cabin first and stepped into the leather harness of his snowshoes. He was eager to get the laser packed and get back to the warm cabin. He stepped around the corner of the cabin and stopped short. Immediately he went back to the others.

“Hey, guys, there’s someone out by the laser shed,” he whispered. “I could see a shadow moving and a brief flash of light.”

“Shit! Okay, grab your rifles and fan out. Gene, you take the left and come around the outhouse, Ernie, take the right and come around the supply shed and I’ll go around the other side of the cabin. Let’s catch this bastard!”

All three left the cabin porch which was hidden from view of the laser’s shed and spread out. None used their flashlights as there was enough contrast between the dark night and the snow. Each man made a stealthy approach closing in on the intruder.

The extreme cold caused the snow to squeak when stepped on and that was Illya Kuryakin’s only warning that someone was coming. He hadn’t yet picked the lock on the shed so he wasn’t going to be caught inside. Quickly, he threw the canvas bag filled with the demolition equipment onto the roof towards the back of the shed and turned to face the coming trouble.

One of the men raised his rifle and shot over Illya’s head. Choryt! Show time. He raised his hands and yelled, “Don’t shoot! Please don’t shoot!”

Ernie and Gene came up on either side of their “guest” and placed the muzzles of their rifles against his temples. Bill grabbed the man’s rifle.

“Well, well, well, boys. Look what we have here! Someone who can’t mind his own business. Whatcha doing here, boy?” Bill got right into Illya’s face.

“Pl…pl…please, mister. I wasn’t doin’ nuttin. I…I…I’m lost and was lookin’ for someplace to get out of the cold.”

Bill watched the pathetic, poor excuse for a man quaking with fear before him. “Sure you were, fella. Why are you way out in the middle of nowhere sneaking around?”

“Like I…I…said. I got lost, I wasn’t doin’ no sneaking.”

“Why didn’t you come to the cabin for help?” Gene asked.

“I was ascared that you might be rangers.”

“Why is that, boy?”

“I was huntin’ for elk.”

“Okay,” drawled Ernie. “So what’s with the camo?”

“I didn’t want any rangers to see me. They don’t take kindly to poachers.”

“What do you think, Bill? Is he telling the truth?” Ernie asked as he poked Illya’s head harder with the muzzle of his rifle.

“I think he’s a lyin’ sack of shit! Move him over to the supply shed.”

As the three THRUSH agents pushed him towards the supply shed, Illya kept up his fearful babbling trying to convince them that he was exactly what he claimed to be.

Half way to the shed, Gene had had enough of the babbling and slapped the side of the man’s head with his rifle butt hard enough to get his attention. “Shut up, you fool.”

Illya went down hard with a yelp trying to stay in character. He shook his head to get rid of the lights dancing before his eyes. He looked up at Gene and whined, “Whatcha do that for? I wasn’t doin’ anything wrong!”

“I said shut up, boy. Now, get up.”

Two of the men hauled him up. When they came within a few yards of the door to the shed, Bill commanded, “Strip!”

Illya looked at him, “What?”

“You heard me. Strip. Gene, you and Ernie check every bit of clothing. The pockets, hems, seams, everything.”

“Shit, Bill, can’t we do this inside of the shed? At least we won’t be out here in the wind!”

“Nope. We’d be in too close quarters. I don’t wanna give him any advantage against us.” He looked at their prisoner who had not yet followed the order. Bill rammed his rifle butt into the man’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. “Damn it, I said strip you son of a bitch! Boys, help him.”

Illya lay gasping in the snow trying to get his lungs to fill with air. Ernie and Gene started pulling at his clothes before he could even breathe again. They grabbed his hat and over mittens yanking on the string that ran from one mitten up through the sleeve of his parka then down the other sleeve to the other mitten. When the mittens didn't come free one of the men drew his knife and sliced the string.

They forcibly pulled off his wind shirt and parka revealing his shoulder holster and Walther. Both were yanked off of his torso and Bill inspected them. “Well, I’ll be a …Boys what we have here is a genuine U.N.C.L.E agent.” He slammed his rifle butt down on Kuryakin’s chest. Without the outer clothing to provide padding, Illya yelled as the butt connected with his sternum. He glared at the man wielding the rifle.

“Get the rest of his clothes off. He’s liable to have all sorts of toys hidden.”

In short order, the Russian had been divested of the rest of his clothes. He was jerked to his bare feet and made to stand in snow up to his mid thighs shivering violently in the -30 degree temperature while his clothes were searched. Satisfied that they had found all of the devices hidden in the clothes they let him put on his long johns, trousers, and shirt before pushing him into the shed. His feet and legs, numb from standing in the deep snow for over fifteen minutes, barely supported him causing him to stumble and fall onto the rough floor boards.

Illya was lifted into a standing position and pushed up against a pole. His arms were pulled back and around the pole then roughly bound with baling wire.

IMG_0075 dmc story photo

Bill Townsend rifled through the agent’s wallet and found his ID card. “Boys, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Illya Kuryakin, one of UNCLE’s finest.” He walked up to Illya and grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head. “Why are you here, Kuryakin? How’d you know about us and where we were?”

Illya merely looked at him, refusing to answer. I do not have time for this, I need to get to Napoleon.

“Answer me!” When no answer was forthcoming Townsend drew back his right fist had punched the Russian in the face. Illya sagged from the impact.

Townsend grabbed another handful of blond hair and looked into the man’s swollen eyes. Kuryakin was unconscious. “Leave him here to chill out for awhile. Maybe he’ll feel more like talking after he spends some time freezing.” The three men left the shed and returned to the cabin. Illya was left alone, unconscious in the dark unheated shed.