The Yellowstone Affair Chapter 11

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

Author's Note: Now that the 50th Anniversary Mini Bang, Halloween Challange, and DtC have passed I thought it was high time to get off my arse and finish up this story. I hope to have the final chapter posted in the next two weeks. If you would like to read the story from the beginning go to : http://archiveofourown.org/works/892016 or go to my journal.

Chapter 11

Over night, bitter cold air and a thick blanket of snow settled on the crash site. Although the snowfall had abated, a brisk north wind kicked up the freshly fallen snow into a vicious ground blizzard creating a whiteout from the ground level to about four feet above. The windblown snow drifted against the crude shelter and cruelly snuffed out the fire.

Napoleon woke at dawn surprised to discover that he felt a bit warmer. As he became more alert he realized that there wasn’t any light showing through the branches that formed the shelter’s walls and that snow partially blocked the opening at the end. He flung the blankets aside and slowly moved his aching body to the exit, pushing the snow away from the opening as he moved forward.

As he exited his shelter, Napoleon noticed that the fire had not only been extinguished by the snow, but also the fire pit and extra wood were buried below at least two feet of the white stuff.  Napoleon turned around to inspect the shelter and found that the reason no light was filtering through the branches was because the shelter was mostly buried by a snow drift.

While he cursed the snow for dousing the fire, he realized that the snowdrift  piled against his shelter had acted as insulation from the cold and wind. He shuffled his feet to plowed through the snow near the shelter as he looked for one of the pieces of scrap metal he had collected. Once he found it, he used it as a shovel and began to pile even more snow onto the shelter to finish the job that Mother Nature had begun.  By the time he finished, the shelter was completely covered. As long as the temperature stayed well below freezing the shelter would provide better resistance to the cold and wind, effectively serving as an igloo or snow cave.

With one task accomplished Napoleon began recovering the firewood from under the snow and tried to start another fire. His frozen hands made it impossible to work the flint wheel of the cigarette lighter.  With a cry of frustration, he put the lighter in his pocket and crawled back into the shelter to warm up.

Huddling under the meager blankets, he inspected his hands. He could tell by the blanched skin and patches of waxy white skin on the tip of his fingers that they were frost nipped. He hoped that he wouldn’t find them turning black. He tucked his hands in the foam pieces and placed them under his armpits to warm them.

As he lay there trying to conserve energy, Napoleon thought back to his despair at the Old Man’s comment regarding using resources to rescue the two agents who didn’t carry the real microdot. He was embarrassed by his reaction and distressed that he let himself lose control of his emotions. Never mind that, Solo, you’ve got more important things to worry about! Pull yourself together. Yeah, I will, but I’m so tired. I need to sleep for just a little bit then I’ll try the fire again. The only survivor of the plane crash slowly closed his eyes and slept. He never heard the drone of a single engine plane flying overhead.

Illya Kuryakin slept little during the night. The wind whistled through the chinks between the logs driving the falling snow hard against the only window in the cabin. He thought of Napoleon, tortured by the thought of his friend’s body lying in the wrecked plane’s fuselage or out in the open buried by the snow. He prayed that Napoleon did not suffer and that his death was quick. He knew what it was like for people to freeze to death. He had lost many friends to such a hellish death during the war and later while participating in winter survival training in the Altai Mountains. Like Yellowstone National Park, the Altai Mountains were beautiful, but during the winter the weather could be a cruel master punishing the careless and weak.

By daylight the blizzard let up after dumping another two feet of snow. The skies cleared long enough to allow Illya to snowshoe back to the ridge where he had left his pulk. He didn’t know what supplies he would need at the crash site and felt it was important to have all that he brought with him as he traveled to the wreck.

By the time he had retrieved the pulk and was halfway back to the cabin, a helicopter could be heard flying up the narrow valley. Illya hoped it wasn’t  THRUSH as he was out in the open with no place to take cover. He was relieved to see the National Park logo on the side of the cockpit and waved a greeting as the ‘copter landed near the scorched skeleton of the THRUSH wreck.

The pilot left the engine running as he jumped out to help Illya with the pulk.

“You must be Mr. Kuryakin,” he shouted above the sound of the engine. “I’m Brian Wickencamp.” He jerked a thumb towards the crashed helicopter. “What happened here?”

“It is a long story. I will fill you in when we get aboard.”

“I’ve got orders to take you to a staging area in the Lamar Valley. Let’s get you loaded up and out of here before the blizzard kicks up again.”

They lashed the pulk to the skids of the helicopter and took off. Brian motioned for Illya to don the headphones and mic which allowed them to converse.

“Thank you for the lift!” Illya spoke. “Tell me, has the crash site been found?”

“No word, yet. We sent out a plane as soon as there was a break in the weather. We should know something soon. Mr. Kuryakin,” Brian paused, “I understand that your partner died in that crash. I’m sorry.”

Illya, his lips pressed tightly together, simply nodded and looked out the window. Napoleon, I am coming. I will not leave here until I have found you and bring you home.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Brrrr chilling chapter and now that all the frigid temps and snow have made themselves known here, I can really empathize with poor Napoleon. Looking forward to the rescue (and I'm sure he is too)

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Just a tidbit for us, but thank you. I hope you're writing more today.

[lindafishes8.livejournal.com]

Thank you for this most satisfying chapter. I've learned about surviving in a snow covered tent from your story. Solo was warm? Wow. Can't wait for the next chapter.

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

Napoleon is going to have to endure for little while longer, but help is on the way. Can he hang on? Thanks for reading.

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

More soon to follow! I hope to get Illya to Napoleon in chapter 13!

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

For NS warmth is relative. Warmer than he was but as warm as he would like to be.

Thanks for reading and for your comment!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Of course he has to hang on...he's the hero and we need him for more stories. "D

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

😉