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section7mfu2014-10-09 11:38 pm
jantojones.livejournal.com) wrote in section7mfu2014-10-09 11:38 pm
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I wanted to Save the World - Song Story Challenge October 9th
Prompt – Save the World by George Harrison
“It’s just so boring,” a frustrated voice came from the locker room Napoleon and Illya were approaching. “I’ve been Section 2 for six months now and I still haven’t seen any proper action.”
The senior agents stopped to listen. It was a conversation they’d overheard many times before over the years.
“I’m with you,” agreed a second voice. “With all these courier runs I feel more like a glorified mailman than an U.N.C.L.E. agent.”
Illya raised an eyebrow at Napoleon, who indicated for his partner to follow him. They entered the locker room and greeted the juniors. The two younger men stood up out of respect for their superiors, but Napoleon waved them back down.
“We couldn’t help but overhear what you were just saying,” he told them. “I take it the job isn’t as exciting as you’d first hoped.”
“It’s not that Sir,” Jeff Colfer answered quietly. “It’s just. . .”
“Look,” Napoleon interrupted. “I know how you feel. We were junior agents once, though admittedly Mr Kuryakin looks as though he still is.”
Illya gave Solo a look which struck terror into the younger men. Napoleon simply grinned in response.
“Tell us what you expected, and please speak freely.”
“Getting into Section 2 was the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Shawn Stevens told them. “It’s what most people at Survival school aspire to, and I made it. The stories we’d heard about you guys made you sound like superheroes. I guess I thought that’s what it would be like for me.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Illya commented, with a wry smile. “The stories are only half true. What were your reasons for joining U.N.C.L.E.?”
“Erm. . . It may sound a bit idealistic,” Colfer mumbled.
“Don’t worry about that.”
The younger man’s voice was barely audible when he answered. “I wanted to save the world.”
“Pardon?”
“I wanted to save the world.”
“Why?” Napoleon asked him. He already knew the answer, because it was the same reason most of them had.
“There’s the nuclear threat from Russia,” he began, resolutely avoiding eye contact with Kuryakin. “Not to mention threats from South America and Arabia. Then there is big business; people who are profiting from selling death and destruction to each other. On top of that we have THRUSH trying to take over every corner of the Earth. Someone has to stop them.”
“Do you think courier runs don’t matter in the grand scheme of things?”
“No Mr Kuryakin, Sir. I just thought, because we’re Section 2, we would be doing the more dangerous stuff.”
Illya pulled his shirt out and lifted it to reveal a painful looking knife wound on his lower back. It was four inches across and seemed to be quite deep. It was well on the way to healing, but it still looked nasty.
“I got this two weeks ago on a courier run,” he told them. “Even those of us at the top have to do them. I was delivering a microdot to another agent and we were ambushed. Is that dangerous enough for you?”
The junior agents looked down at their feet in embarrassment.
“Mr Stevens, am I right in thinking you retrieved the package from New Jersey last week,” asked Napoleon, knowing full well it was. He was the one who had sent him.
“Yes Sir.”
“I can’t give you any details,” Napoleon continued. “But the information you brought back prevented the subjugation of around twenty-seven thousand people.”
Colfer whistled appreciatively.
“You see,” Illya said, smiling reassuringly. “You are saving the world. Do you have nephews or nieces?”
The two juniors nodded and gave details of their sibling’s offspring.
“Every little thing you do here, no matter how unimportant it may seem, is keeping them safe.”
“The more exciting stuff will come, when you’ve finished your probationary period,” Napoleon stated. “Along with a lot of paper work. Then you’ll know what boring is.”
“What would you know about paperwork?” the Russian asked, before turning back to Colfer and Stevens. “One day, you’ll look back on days like today; days when you came back alive and uninjured. Don’t crave the excitement too much. That kind of mind-set can lead to sloppy thinking and will get you killed.”
“You’re time will come gentlemen,” Solo reassured them. “When it does, I know you will do us proud.”
Illya glanced at his watch and reminded Napoleon that they were supposed to on the way to a meeting. The junior agents got to the feet again as the seniors left, and looked at each other.
“Jeez,” Jeff exclaimed. “How many people get a pep talk from the big boys?”
“Did you see that knife mark?” Shawn asked. “Not just that. Did you see all those other scars?”
“Yeah. I suppose that will be us in a few years. Think I’ll just stick with the courier runs for now.”
The End.
“It’s just so boring,” a frustrated voice came from the locker room Napoleon and Illya were approaching. “I’ve been Section 2 for six months now and I still haven’t seen any proper action.”
The senior agents stopped to listen. It was a conversation they’d overheard many times before over the years.
“I’m with you,” agreed a second voice. “With all these courier runs I feel more like a glorified mailman than an U.N.C.L.E. agent.”
Illya raised an eyebrow at Napoleon, who indicated for his partner to follow him. They entered the locker room and greeted the juniors. The two younger men stood up out of respect for their superiors, but Napoleon waved them back down.
“We couldn’t help but overhear what you were just saying,” he told them. “I take it the job isn’t as exciting as you’d first hoped.”
“It’s not that Sir,” Jeff Colfer answered quietly. “It’s just. . .”
“Look,” Napoleon interrupted. “I know how you feel. We were junior agents once, though admittedly Mr Kuryakin looks as though he still is.”
Illya gave Solo a look which struck terror into the younger men. Napoleon simply grinned in response.
“Tell us what you expected, and please speak freely.”
“Getting into Section 2 was the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Shawn Stevens told them. “It’s what most people at Survival school aspire to, and I made it. The stories we’d heard about you guys made you sound like superheroes. I guess I thought that’s what it would be like for me.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Illya commented, with a wry smile. “The stories are only half true. What were your reasons for joining U.N.C.L.E.?”
“Erm. . . It may sound a bit idealistic,” Colfer mumbled.
“Don’t worry about that.”
The younger man’s voice was barely audible when he answered. “I wanted to save the world.”
“Pardon?”
“I wanted to save the world.”
“Why?” Napoleon asked him. He already knew the answer, because it was the same reason most of them had.
“There’s the nuclear threat from Russia,” he began, resolutely avoiding eye contact with Kuryakin. “Not to mention threats from South America and Arabia. Then there is big business; people who are profiting from selling death and destruction to each other. On top of that we have THRUSH trying to take over every corner of the Earth. Someone has to stop them.”
“Do you think courier runs don’t matter in the grand scheme of things?”
“No Mr Kuryakin, Sir. I just thought, because we’re Section 2, we would be doing the more dangerous stuff.”
Illya pulled his shirt out and lifted it to reveal a painful looking knife wound on his lower back. It was four inches across and seemed to be quite deep. It was well on the way to healing, but it still looked nasty.
“I got this two weeks ago on a courier run,” he told them. “Even those of us at the top have to do them. I was delivering a microdot to another agent and we were ambushed. Is that dangerous enough for you?”
The junior agents looked down at their feet in embarrassment.
“Mr Stevens, am I right in thinking you retrieved the package from New Jersey last week,” asked Napoleon, knowing full well it was. He was the one who had sent him.
“Yes Sir.”
“I can’t give you any details,” Napoleon continued. “But the information you brought back prevented the subjugation of around twenty-seven thousand people.”
Colfer whistled appreciatively.
“You see,” Illya said, smiling reassuringly. “You are saving the world. Do you have nephews or nieces?”
The two juniors nodded and gave details of their sibling’s offspring.
“Every little thing you do here, no matter how unimportant it may seem, is keeping them safe.”
“The more exciting stuff will come, when you’ve finished your probationary period,” Napoleon stated. “Along with a lot of paper work. Then you’ll know what boring is.”
“What would you know about paperwork?” the Russian asked, before turning back to Colfer and Stevens. “One day, you’ll look back on days like today; days when you came back alive and uninjured. Don’t crave the excitement too much. That kind of mind-set can lead to sloppy thinking and will get you killed.”
“You’re time will come gentlemen,” Solo reassured them. “When it does, I know you will do us proud.”
Illya glanced at his watch and reminded Napoleon that they were supposed to on the way to a meeting. The junior agents got to the feet again as the seniors left, and looked at each other.
“Jeez,” Jeff exclaimed. “How many people get a pep talk from the big boys?”
“Did you see that knife mark?” Shawn asked. “Not just that. Did you see all those other scars?”
“Yeah. I suppose that will be us in a few years. Think I’ll just stick with the courier runs for now.”
The End.
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Good job!
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This was actually my second attempt at this prompt. The first was going to be a big, showy, saving the world at the last minute sort of thing. Then I figured that saving the world isn't just about the heroic stuff, and this idea formed.
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Very nice ocs, believable and sympathetic. I'm sure they will do UNCLE proud.
This sort of glimpse does help make UNCLE more solid.
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Good leaders today produce the leaders of tomorrow I reckon.
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Personally, I've always been more likely to take note of someone who was advising me rather than someone who was telling me, if you know what I mean.
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