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section7mfu(Continuation of 12/9/14 picfic - that I posted on 12/10/14)
Napoleon Solo was not a man that prayed often, but when the car he knew for certain had been the one Illya had been driving rose from its watery grave, he said one - then when the police reported the car was empty, he said a second one to say thanks. There was always a chance Illya had been tossed into the water separate from the car, but the odds had increased of his partner being alive.
He asked the police which was the way to the nearest town, thanked them and headed for it. If he had captured an enemy agent in this sort of weather, he would have headed to the nearest town to find a place to secure his prisoner and hole up until the weather improved.
The snow grew heavier and Napoleon quickly realized that he would need to search for what he was looking for on foot. The time was now standing at three hours since Illya's last check-in.
Carefully parking, Napoleon's thrust his hands into his pockets and hunched over as he began his slow walk down the sidewalks of the town. The snow had already filled in any recent tire tracks, but that was where his hope lay. He wasn't hunched over due to the cold - well, not entirely due to the cold - but because he was glancing underneath the parked cars that he was passing by. Those that had been parked since before the snow started would be clear of everything but blown snow beneath them.
He neared a car that looked to be a likely suspect. For one, it matched the vague description given of the car that had shoved Illya's into the water. Second, it had been parked over already mounded snow. A glance to the building, which appeared to be a residence, showed something else strange. The walk had only been half-shoveled and the snow shovel had been dropped to the ground. It was now barely visible under the snow that had fallen since it had been left there.
The snow was Napoleon's friend in another way now as it was falling so thickly that it would hide most of his movements as he moved slightly past the building that the car was parked in front of and then left the sidewalk to circle around to the rear of the structure. The sound of children crying seemed to be coming from a basement window which made Napoleon suspect his worst case scenario was true - the THRUSH agents had seen an innocent shoveling the walk and forced them inside. That meant an unknown number of innocents were in danger as well as his partner.
Moving to a spot where he was both shielded from sight of the house and the wind, Napoleon contacted Mister Waverly with a full update and his suspicions of where Illya was being held and the citizens who seemed unwillingly involved. As he both expected and dreaded, there was no viable way to provide him with backup until the weather broke, but once the weather did break, they were bound to move Illya immediately.
Mister Waverly expressed his trust in Solo's resourcefulness and wished him luck before signing off. Looking back toward the building as he tucked his communicator back away, Napoleon took a moment to compose himself and then began to formulate a plan.
tbc . . . .
Napoleon Solo was not a man that prayed often, but when the car he knew for certain had been the one Illya had been driving rose from its watery grave, he said one - then when the police reported the car was empty, he said a second one to say thanks. There was always a chance Illya had been tossed into the water separate from the car, but the odds had increased of his partner being alive.
He asked the police which was the way to the nearest town, thanked them and headed for it. If he had captured an enemy agent in this sort of weather, he would have headed to the nearest town to find a place to secure his prisoner and hole up until the weather improved.
The snow grew heavier and Napoleon quickly realized that he would need to search for what he was looking for on foot. The time was now standing at three hours since Illya's last check-in.
Carefully parking, Napoleon's thrust his hands into his pockets and hunched over as he began his slow walk down the sidewalks of the town. The snow had already filled in any recent tire tracks, but that was where his hope lay. He wasn't hunched over due to the cold - well, not entirely due to the cold - but because he was glancing underneath the parked cars that he was passing by. Those that had been parked since before the snow started would be clear of everything but blown snow beneath them.
He neared a car that looked to be a likely suspect. For one, it matched the vague description given of the car that had shoved Illya's into the water. Second, it had been parked over already mounded snow. A glance to the building, which appeared to be a residence, showed something else strange. The walk had only been half-shoveled and the snow shovel had been dropped to the ground. It was now barely visible under the snow that had fallen since it had been left there.
The snow was Napoleon's friend in another way now as it was falling so thickly that it would hide most of his movements as he moved slightly past the building that the car was parked in front of and then left the sidewalk to circle around to the rear of the structure. The sound of children crying seemed to be coming from a basement window which made Napoleon suspect his worst case scenario was true - the THRUSH agents had seen an innocent shoveling the walk and forced them inside. That meant an unknown number of innocents were in danger as well as his partner.
Moving to a spot where he was both shielded from sight of the house and the wind, Napoleon contacted Mister Waverly with a full update and his suspicions of where Illya was being held and the citizens who seemed unwillingly involved. As he both expected and dreaded, there was no viable way to provide him with backup until the weather broke, but once the weather did break, they were bound to move Illya immediately.
Mister Waverly expressed his trust in Solo's resourcefulness and wished him luck before signing off. Looking back toward the building as he tucked his communicator back away, Napoleon took a moment to compose himself and then began to formulate a plan.
tbc . . . .
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