"The Assumption Parish Affair" Chapter 2 for PicFic Tuesday 9/23

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

LINK to Chapter 1: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/739856.html



Illya was barely able to keep awake and was startled to full awareness when the largest of the three alligators, at least a twelve footer, heaved itself up on the the ledge where the Russian was perched.

The agent backed up, slamming himself into small corner between the back and side walls. There was nowhere else to go. Holding his breath and closing his eyes, Illya waited for the inevitable.

It didn’t happen. He opened one eye,daing to peek.

The space had been too narrow for the beast to move forward and it slowly let itself slide back into the water...deprived of it’s meal for the moment.

The ledge automatically retracted again, leaving Kuryakin no choice but now to remain standing, still with his back against the stone wall.

He stared out at the door across from him...just for a second contemplating to make a swim for it; no, that would be certain death he told himself. The stones behind him were too slick and there were no visible grooves that he could grab onto to make the fifteen foot climb climb to the top of the wall.

He’d gone over his options again and again, almost obsessively running through different scenarios in his head. They all resulted in the same end, him being eaten alive.

The alligators had ceased their movement, remaining motionless floating side by side ...the exposed tops of their bodies looking almost like stepping stones.

Illya suddenly recalled seeing something in a film where a character crossed a moat filled with crocodiles by hop-scotching on their backs….no, that couldn’t be possible. It was just a cinema trick, or was it?

“There are only three,” Illya told himself,”and it is a short distance, if I just do it lightly like a dance step.”

At this point there was no time left to think, there was only time to just do it or surely die. What did it matter...dying in few minutes, or suffer waiting to die when the ledge was finally gone?

Illya took a deep breath and counting down through gritted teeth, he launched himself into the air.

“Tri-dva-odin…”

He landed on the biggest one with his right foot, bounding off it instantly to the next one, touching down with his left, then taking off he hit the third one with his right.  Leaping again, his momentum carried him forward and landed him on his hands and knees atop the platform in front of the door.

It wasn’t a graceful, but he at least was alive to tell the tale and chuckled to himself that it had actually worked. Illya looked over his shoulder at the gators that were now quite agitated, as the creatures were snapping and going at each other.

Turning his attention to the door knob, he reached for it but received a disappointment...it was locked.

“Chyort voz'mi! (dammit),”he cursed in Russian. One more thing to do to gain his freedom.

Illya dug into his mouth, feeling for the fine wire wrapped around his back molar and gingerly pulling it out, he knelt in front of the door and had the lock picked in no time.

He slowly turned the knob and pulled on the door; it unexpectedly opened inwards with more force than he’d exerted, and a T.H.R.U.S.H. guard stumbled in.

The ease at which the door gave way had caught the man unawares and he looked around, seeing Illya was no longer on opposite the ledge. Smiling; he assumed the prisoner finally fed the alligators.

That’s when Kuryakin struck, karate chopping the man in the neck and grabbed his rifle in one swift motion as he went down to his knees.

Though it was unintentional, the guards momentum brought his body forward and he fell into the water with a loud splash.

The scene became quite gruesome as he came to, just as the alligators attacked; the largest of the three pulling their helpless victim under the water with a single gurgling scream.

It was at that moment the Russian’s cold-heartedness showed.

“Bon appétit,” he whispered before exiting, jogging up the stairs to the next level. Once there he glanced down in the pit to see the ledge he’d been on disappear into the wall.

His decision to make his move couldn’t have been timed any better, and he allowed himself a momentary pat on the back before taking off.

He needed to get to Le Panthère’s office and back into the safe. There he hoped the copies of the man’s depraved plan and the codes needed were still there.  Since sugarcane was the major product here... in proportion to its area, Assumption Parish produced the most sugar of any parish of Louisiana, T.H.R.U.S.H. had come up with plan to take advantage of that.

Their formula would taint the sugarcane, making anyone who ate sugar processed from it to become weak-minded. The codes were part of the planned hypnotic suggestions to be broadcast via television and radio.

It would result in a population akin to zombies…with no free will or able to think for themselves.

.

Once through the gate into fortress-like compound, Napoleon and Rennie were shoved to their knees, with their hands bound behind their backs.

There they waited in the courtyard for what seemed like an interminable length of time. Enough so that they both began to experience sharp pains in their knees. At one point Solo tried shifting his weight, sitting back on his heels, but that resulted in him being slammed in the stomach with a rifle butt.

“No moving!” The guard barked.

Resigned to their situation, albeit an uncomfortable one; it at least gave them the opportunity to get a good look at their surroundings and realize that every sort of weapon was trained exactly on the two of them.

T.H.R.U.S.H. rifles, Kalashnikovs, guns from World War II and perhaps even older. That told Napoleon The Panther’s little army was ill-equipped. It was obvious what monies the man had were sunk into the building of his estate, and mainly for his creature comforts.

Scanning the compound, Solo counted ten guards...not giving the agents the least hope of escaping at the moment.

A dark-haired man appeared on the upper balcony dressed in a white suit...wearing a black eye patch. It was Le Panthère in the flesh, though he looked less imposing in person.

He remained motionless, studying his prisoners perhaps.

His hand raised ever so slowly, and a man appeared beside him holding a crossbow. A weapon so simple in nature; it could kill its target in utter silence...not even the ‘pfffft’ of suppressed  gunfire compared to it.

Le Panthère’s hand lowered with a sharp gesture, and an arrow came flying straight towards Solo and Du Bois, landing in the ground between Napoleon’s legs.

The agent remained motionless, giving no reaction whatsoever.

A second arrow was released, this time Rennie wasn’t as fortunate and it skimmed thigh, leaving a bloody slice.

“Mon Dieu,” he hissed in pain, but remained in place... though he wanted to drop to the ground.  The guard behind him with a gun shoved against Rennie’s head saw to it he remained in place.

There was an echo of laughter from the balcony, and another gesture, this time for the two men to be brought inside.

Du Bois was yanked to his feet and again the two agents were forced to move onwards; Rennie hobbling to keep up the pace as best he could.

They were led up a staircase, and inside to an enormous drawing room, filled with statuary and potted palms. The floors were inlaid with intricate mosaics, and white plastered walls of intricate designs of grape leaves, fauns and satyrs surrounded them.

Sitting regally in an ornate red-velvet upholstered and gold gilt chair, Le Panthère was positioned there with his legs crossed, looking relaxed as he twirled his black walking stick in his hand. A sudden hiss came from behind the chair, and slowly walking around from the back, there appeared a large black panther wearing a collar and tethered to a chain.

“Oh no no ma cher, not just yet,” the Panther reached out with his hand, scratching the beast on it’s dark head.

The big black cat sat there with it’s mouth open, staring at Napoleon and Rennie with its large green eyes, not missing a thing.

Solo stared back defiantly, though he presumed at any second it would be released to tear them to shreds.

“So gentlemen,” Le Panthère spoke in an exaggerated French accent.

“I am afraid you are too late to rescue your blond ami...he ‘as, shall we say, made a fine meal for my pet alligators.”

A sign of overconfidence, Napoleon supposed since this place was so invisible to the outside world. Yet U.N.C.L.E. found it and UNCLE would destroy it and whatever twisted scheme the man was up to. They’d fulfill their assignment, of that, Napoleon Solo was sure...despite their current situation. He owed that to Illya...to complete the mission and live.

His survival would ensure the memory of Illya Kuryakin would live on as well. The Russian had no one, no family to mourn his passing, except Solo, though part of him refused to believe his partner was gone.

Now what to do with wiz you?” The Panther asked. “ Before I dispose of you, per’aps you can answer ze question for me that your friend refused to divulge? Who are you?”

Napoleon smiled, figuring his answer just might intimidate the man.

“We’re from U.N.C.L.E. and we know you’ve been a naughty boy, up to no good as T.H.R.U.S.H. usually is.  We’re here to stop you.”

“Hahahahahaaaaa! You stop moi? Preposterous!”  Hmmm, as I said, what to do wiz you. I think a different end than met by your blond compatriot...I assume ‘e was from U.N.C.L.E. as well. Tell me what was ‘is name so I may have it engraved on a small tombstone that I will place outside my gate….to warn others of your ilk away from me.”

Solo felt a pain in his gut. His partner was dead...he’s been late again, and this time it had an unforgivable consequence.

“His name,” Napoleon tried not to choke on it,” was Illya Kuryakin and he was my friend. You’ll pay for killing him.

“Kuryakin? Mon Dieu, then that means you must be the one and only Napoleon Solo. I am indeed honored that your organization ‘as sent ze best to stop me...but your best are not enough.  And you, who are you Monsieur?” He turned his attention to Rennie.

“Va te faire foutre, trouduc," (Fuck off asshole).” Rennie cursed at him.

“Now now, there’s no need for that sort of language Monsieur,” the Panther smiled. “You will upset my baybee ‘ere and she is growing quite ‘ungry.”

Rennie cast a glance to Solo, seeing a signal for him to take it easy.

“Fine, my name is Reneé Du Bois and as my partner here said, we are here to stop you.”

“I am growing tired of your belligerence,” the Panther casually waved his hand as if it were too much of an effort. “Take them below and lock them up while I ponder what to do with them. We must send U.N.C.L.E. a message I think. So the disposal of these men must be a bit more visible and creative.”

Napoleon and Rennie were led off to their cell, a quite damp and oozy sort of place within the bowels of the compound.  The hands were untied, the ropes discarded on the floor and they were shoved back against the slimy wall; their only source of light, a single incandescent bulb hanging from the high ceiling.

As soon as their guard left Rennie and Napoleon set about checking out their surroundings, tapping the floor and walls and listening for any hollow sounds, under the presumption they could remove the slate or stones and escape to another location.

Their search resulted in disappointment and together they sat on their rickety wooden bunks; the stained mattresses stuffed  with straw and no doubt filthy with fleas and who knew what else.

“Got any bright ideas Napoleon?”

“At the moment, no,” he shook his head.” How’s the leg?”

“Bleeding’s stopped.”

“I’d suggest to lay down and take it easy but…”

“Yes, the mattress does seem to be occupied already,” Rennie tried laughing. “Napoleon, I’m sorry about Illya.”

“Me too,” he hesitated,” but I’m not so sure he’s dead. My partner is like a cat with nine lives...though in Illya’s case it’s more like nine-hundred lives. He has a way of surviving…”

“Let’s hope you’re right mah friend.”

Link to chapter 3: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/746952.html

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thanks for another good chapter. I didn't believe the alligator stepping sequence in the original; but I do believe Illya could just manage it. If the alligators weren't too eager.

I wonder who the real panther is based on?

I guess Le Panthere is going to be one villain they don't foil, considering how successful his plot was. More seriously, it's a very good one. For the readers, not the plottees.

(Very small point. On another forum, I recently read that cross bows are by no means completely silent.)

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

The alligator bit is pure fictions, and strictly a vehicle to allow Illya to escape and inescapable situation (please not there were no animals other than humans harmed in the writing of this spy fantasy.)

The black panther came up in my research for the Louisiana swamps and as of very recently there was another sighting of one in real life. Though the only type of panther that inhabits the area is the Florida Panther. Hmmm this story could be a bit of explanation for a black panther population to now exist there...cross breeding with the Florida panther...the black one that got away could have started it all. LOL!

I agree with the crossbow and nothing with those sort of moving parts would be totally silent,...the release of the wire itself would make a noise but again for the sake of the story a little poetic license was taken. This is after all, fiction.

thanks so much for reading and taking the time to comment. Always appreciated.

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Actually, I was thinking Luna might be the original of the black panther.

Very obliged about no nonhumans being hurt. Thank you. In fact, the panther might send UNCLE a purr via one of the shelter kitties.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Would you believe I had you in mind when writing about the animals in this. "D

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

I laughed at the vision of Illya jumping across the alligators, such a clever lad! Poor Napoleon, so worried about Illya. This was an exciting chaps, now off to read the next one.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Chuckle...everyone seems to be enjoying Illya and his alligator jumping! It is quite a visual isn't it? Thanks for taking the time to comment and glad you're enjoying the story!

[ssclassof56.livejournal.com]

Aaahhh, death by alligator. A Floridian's nightmare, especially as I have them behind the house. (Now I sound like a THRUSH villain.) :-) I use gators in a similar way later in my Deadly in My Fashion Affair. Enjoyed this. Looking forward to the conclusion.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Don't know how I missed your comment, I apologize for not responding. Glad you enjoyed the story...the alligator bit I actually stole from one of the James Bond movies. LOL!

Gators behind your house? Yikes! I hope you have a very strong fence so none of them come knocking at your back door. I saw a video once of an alligator climbing up against someone's door and managing to get inside the house. Now that's scary!

A delayed 'thank you ' for your reading and commenting!