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section7mfuChapter 1 - http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/755318.html
It didn’t take long for a response to the explosion. Within a matter of minutes a jeep, containing two THRUSH flunkies, arrived at the scene. From their position, behind the boulder, Napoleon and Illya swiftly sleep-darted the two men.
“That was disconcertingly easy,” Illya commented, as the stripped the guards of their blue uniforms and berets.
“Maybe it’s an indication of a nice smooth mission Chum.”
Illya had to shake his head at Napoleon’s eternal optimism. The two men donned their stolen uniforms and, as always seemed to be the case, Solo’s fit perfectly. Illya, on the other hand, had to turn the trouser legs up a couple of times.
“Okay, plan of action,” Napoleon announced. “I’ll check the mill area, you investigate the office.
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
Adjusting the beret on his head, Illya procured himself a clipboard. He’d learned from past experience that people rarely bothered someone studying a clipboard. Locating the office, Illya knocked on the door, which bore the legend ‘Miss Evelyn Baxter’. A harsh female voice beckoned him in. He entered the office and was met with the sight of an exceptionally beautiful dark haired woman. The one flaw to her beauty was the cruel sneer she was sporting. She looked at Illya with barely concealed contempt.
“What do you want?” She snarled.
“S. .sorry to disturb you Miss Baxter,” Illya stuttered, pretending to be cowed by the woman. “There is a problem in packing.”
“What kind of problem?”
“No idea Ma’am.”
Miss Baxter slammed her pen down onto the desk.
“Why do I bother having underlings,” she yelled into Illya’s face. “If I still have to do everything myself?”
“Couldn’t say Ma’am.”
As soon as the woman had stormed out, Illya immediately set about searching the office. It wouldn’t take Miss Baxter long to realise she’d been sent on a wild goose chase. Most of the files he found were general production and personnel records, but Illya eventually struck gold. He’d discovered the formula for the substance in the water. The information also told him that the best way for the substance to work was by exposing a subject to the steam from the treated water. However, adding the substance to flour would cause a similar, though slightly less powerful, reaction when baked in bread. Regular exposure would keep a population controlled quite easily.
“What are you doing?”
Illya froze, before turning to face the voice.
“I was asked to get a file for Miss Baxter,” he told the rather aggressive looking guard in the doorway.
Hardly,” the man growled. “No-one but Miss Baxter is allowed into the files. On your knees with your hands on your head.”
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
While Illya was searching the office, Napoleon was patrolling the main production area. He found it to be quite eerie. There were dozens of people, but they were all silent and they moved as though sleep-walking. If Napoleon stopped in front of one of them, they stood, with their heads bowed, until he moved out of the way.
Solo spent some time looking around, trying to get a feel of the land. As he approached a door, which led to the administration block, it was opened from the other side. Being a consummate professional, Napoleon barely flinched at the sight of Illya. The blond agent was being escorted at gunpoint and, judging by the set of his jaw, Solo could tell he was far from happy at being captured. The Russian caught the American’s eye, but made no indication of knowing him.
The woman striding ahead of Illya ordered Napoleon to join the escort. He took up position behind his partner, but was careful not to point his stolen rifle directly at him. The situation wasn’t ideal, but Solo was an expert at dealing with shifting strategies. He would see how the situation played out.
Illya was taken to what appeared to be a locker room. At the far end was a large glass box, with a door at the front. Miss Baxter told Illya to step into the box before locking him in. She pressed some buttons on a nearby control panel, and from the floor of the glass box steam began to flow. Illya didn’t need to be told what was happening. He could only hope that Napoleon had a plan.
The steam quickly enveloped the Russian. He could feel his senses numbing and tried to reach out to Napoleon. From outside, Illya was nothing more than a silhouette. Through the rivulets of water running down the inside of cool glass walls, Solo could see his partner reaching out. He couldn’t help him yet, but Napoleon was forming an idea.
To be continued.
It didn’t take long for a response to the explosion. Within a matter of minutes a jeep, containing two THRUSH flunkies, arrived at the scene. From their position, behind the boulder, Napoleon and Illya swiftly sleep-darted the two men.
“That was disconcertingly easy,” Illya commented, as the stripped the guards of their blue uniforms and berets.
“Maybe it’s an indication of a nice smooth mission Chum.”
Illya had to shake his head at Napoleon’s eternal optimism. The two men donned their stolen uniforms and, as always seemed to be the case, Solo’s fit perfectly. Illya, on the other hand, had to turn the trouser legs up a couple of times.
“Okay, plan of action,” Napoleon announced. “I’ll check the mill area, you investigate the office.
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
Adjusting the beret on his head, Illya procured himself a clipboard. He’d learned from past experience that people rarely bothered someone studying a clipboard. Locating the office, Illya knocked on the door, which bore the legend ‘Miss Evelyn Baxter’. A harsh female voice beckoned him in. He entered the office and was met with the sight of an exceptionally beautiful dark haired woman. The one flaw to her beauty was the cruel sneer she was sporting. She looked at Illya with barely concealed contempt.
“What do you want?” She snarled.
“S. .sorry to disturb you Miss Baxter,” Illya stuttered, pretending to be cowed by the woman. “There is a problem in packing.”
“What kind of problem?”
“No idea Ma’am.”
Miss Baxter slammed her pen down onto the desk.
“Why do I bother having underlings,” she yelled into Illya’s face. “If I still have to do everything myself?”
“Couldn’t say Ma’am.”
As soon as the woman had stormed out, Illya immediately set about searching the office. It wouldn’t take Miss Baxter long to realise she’d been sent on a wild goose chase. Most of the files he found were general production and personnel records, but Illya eventually struck gold. He’d discovered the formula for the substance in the water. The information also told him that the best way for the substance to work was by exposing a subject to the steam from the treated water. However, adding the substance to flour would cause a similar, though slightly less powerful, reaction when baked in bread. Regular exposure would keep a population controlled quite easily.
“What are you doing?”
Illya froze, before turning to face the voice.
“I was asked to get a file for Miss Baxter,” he told the rather aggressive looking guard in the doorway.
Hardly,” the man growled. “No-one but Miss Baxter is allowed into the files. On your knees with your hands on your head.”
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
While Illya was searching the office, Napoleon was patrolling the main production area. He found it to be quite eerie. There were dozens of people, but they were all silent and they moved as though sleep-walking. If Napoleon stopped in front of one of them, they stood, with their heads bowed, until he moved out of the way.
Solo spent some time looking around, trying to get a feel of the land. As he approached a door, which led to the administration block, it was opened from the other side. Being a consummate professional, Napoleon barely flinched at the sight of Illya. The blond agent was being escorted at gunpoint and, judging by the set of his jaw, Solo could tell he was far from happy at being captured. The Russian caught the American’s eye, but made no indication of knowing him.
The woman striding ahead of Illya ordered Napoleon to join the escort. He took up position behind his partner, but was careful not to point his stolen rifle directly at him. The situation wasn’t ideal, but Solo was an expert at dealing with shifting strategies. He would see how the situation played out.
Illya was taken to what appeared to be a locker room. At the far end was a large glass box, with a door at the front. Miss Baxter told Illya to step into the box before locking him in. She pressed some buttons on a nearby control panel, and from the floor of the glass box steam began to flow. Illya didn’t need to be told what was happening. He could only hope that Napoleon had a plan.
The steam quickly enveloped the Russian. He could feel his senses numbing and tried to reach out to Napoleon. From outside, Illya was nothing more than a silhouette. Through the rivulets of water running down the inside of cool glass walls, Solo could see his partner reaching out. He couldn’t help him yet, but Napoleon was forming an idea.
To be continued.
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