Seasick - 'Short Affair' Challenge - Jan 26th

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Prompts – Raft/Pink
Word Count (approx.) - 540


Illya couldn’t deny that the sunset was exceedingly beautiful as nature painted the sky with more hues of pink than he had thought possible. Unfortunately, the stunning vista wasn’t enough to take his mind from his queasy stomach. He’d been floating on the raft, in the open ocean, for almost four hours and if his rescuers didn’t arrive soon it could be too late. Between having no drinking water, and throwing up with seasickness, dehydration was a probability.

Illya had tried to get out of the assignment when he’d been given it, but only he could infiltrate the Russian cargo vessel. It was believed that the ship was being used as a cover, by THRUSH, to give them access to ports around the world. Illya had been aboard for two days, and had verified that the vessel was indeed being used by THRUSH, and had learned the names of those Thrushies on board. He had intended to garner as much information he could, but had become aware that at least one crew member was growing suspicious of him. Not wishing to get caught, he’d sent a message to Napoleon that he would need picking up, before taking one of the life rafts and jumping overboard. He’d activated the homing beacon on his communicator, then lay back to wait.

His seasickness hadn’t been a problem on board the ship, as he’d brought medication with him, but he’d lost it when he jumped overboard. For the first hour, Illya just about managed to control his stomach, but the constant motion of the water soon took its toll.

As the sunset faded and the sky darkened, Illya finally heard the sound he was waiting for. Sitting up, he saw the helicopter and, after digging out his small flash light, he flashed it at the approaching vehicle. When it was positioned above him, a rope was dropped for him to grab onto. Unfortunately, the whirling of the rotor blades caused the water to churn around him, which resulted in another bout of vomiting. By this stage it was dry heaving but the strain on his stomach, back and shoulders was becoming unbearable.

From the helicopter, Napoleon could see that his friend was in no state to help himself. How he’d survived the navy was anybody’s guess. After pulling on his leather gloves, Solo slid down the rope to join Illya.

“Hey there, Tovarisch,” he said brightly. “I thought you didn’t like it on the water.”

The expression of pure misery on the Russian’s face was enough to give Napoleon pause, and he reined in his attempt at humour. He looped the rope under Illya’s arms and watched as he was lifted into the helicopter. Once Napoleon was back aboard, the set off for U.N.C.L.E. HQ and Illya’s salvation.

“Did you get what we needed?” Solo asked his groaning partner.

Illya nodded. “I got enough,” he replied weakly. “Names of THRUSH operatives on the ship, and some of the ports they’ll be visiting in the next two weeks.”

“You did good, chum.” Napoleon told him. “I’m sure it was worth the sickness.”

Groaning even more loudly, Illya turned away from Napoleon. He curled himself up tightly, and hoped the flight wouldn’t take too long.


The End

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

I'm sure Illya will get his own back :-)

Thank you for commenting.