"Escape from the End of the World" Part 10

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Links to parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Napoleon came around, finally opening his eyes, though he was forced to squint as the light hurt them.

His felt as though a sixteen wheeler had run over him, and his mouth tasted like an entire army of soldiers with very dirty boots had tramped through it. Quickly realizing he was no longer on the jet and out doors; the humidity of the rainforest and his memory of its smells assaulted his nose.

“Why hello there Napoleon,” Sylvia oozed. She forced him to raise his chin, pushing it upwards with a riding crop held in her gloved hand; giving him no choice but to look at her.

Gone were the crisp white blouse and pencil skirt; instead she was dressed a pair of khaki riding chaps, a short sleeved khaki shirt and high brown leather boots. Her gorgeous hair was now drawn back in a severe bun, being worn so tight that it pulled her skin, giving her an almost maniacal Gloria Swanson-esque facial expression.

It suddenly occurred to him, the woman wasn't 'all there,' and half-expected her to say she was 'ready for her closeup..."

“What did you do?” He stared into her blue eyes.

“Ahh, you were taken in so easily ...U.N.C.L.E.’s finest, pah!”

“You betrayed the Command Agent Henriques?”

“Are you that dimwitted? I’m not from your organization, I took your agent’s place. Drugged your drinks, and those of the pilots and then we turned the jet around and landed it here.

“And where is exactly here, and who’s the ‘we’ you’re referring to?

She laughed. “Look around, don’t you recognize this place?”

It hurt to turn his head, but as soon as he did; Napoleon knew their surroundings. They were back in the prison yard of El fin del mundo.

“And the ‘we’ she is referring to is the two of us,” a voice said, the person hidden by shadow from the wall.

Out stepped the General, taking his place beside the woman.

“Do you not see the family resemblance Senhor Solo?”

“What?” Napoleon’s mouth hung open as he looked between the two.

“I am not Sylvia Henriques...that was your agent’s name, poor girl; I had to dispose of her, permanently I’m afraid. You see, I am Leticia Constancis Machado, the youngest daugher of the esteemed Generalíssimo.” She reached out taking her father by the hand.

The American took a deep breath, trying to take it all in as well as deal with his discomfort.

“Where’s Dancer and Kuryakin...and the pilots? What have you done with them?”

“Oh sadly Captain Rollins and Lieutenant Gibbs are no more. The fiery Miss Dancer is safe and sound for the moment, in the former Warden’s office. The accommodations there are quite comfortable in comparison to the rest of this place, especially the bedroom,” the General smiled.

“And Illya?”

“Hmmm yes, your nasty little Soviet friend,” Machado clicked his tongue. “Apparently he’s not well at all. He was wounded in your escape from this place was he not?”

Machado watched for a reaction from Solo but was only mildly disappointed when there was none.

The General huffed. “Apparently his stitches are infected, and he is running a fever.”

“He had antibiotics with him.”

“Oh these?” Machado held up the pill bottle. He opened it, emptying the contents in the dirt and ground the pills beneath his boot heel.

Napoleon jerked at his bonds, his anger rising to the surface.

“Let me see him,” he demanded.

“All in good time Senhor Solo.”

The General snapped his fingers and two armed men appeared; the American recognizing them as former guards at the now abandoned prison.

“Take him to his cell until I am ready for him. You, like your partner Senhor Solo do not have long to live, so I suggest you make peace with your maker.” The General laughed.”I have a little hunting party planned for the two of you...you do like hunting do you not Senhor?”

Napoleon refused to answer as he was lifted to his feet, but the effects of the drug he’d been given made him unsteady and he started to stagger, nearly falling.

They grabbed him by the arms, holding him up and rather than letting him try to walk, dragging him along.

Exiting the yard through the tunnel that led to the interior of the prison; they halted at the first cell in the main wing.

The guards pushed Solo against the wall, holding him there until they opened the door of the ramshackled cell. They shoved him inside, and grabbing hold of the bars once covered in black paint, now chipped and flaking; Napoleon kept himself from falling.

Watching him struggle to remain standing; one of the guards finally spoke.

“Welcome back gringo. Your stay here is going to be short lived this time,” they cackled as they walked away.

Napoleon craned his neck, trying to look around, thinking he saw someone laying on the bunk in the cell opposite his.

Not knowing if it was a prisoner who hadn’t been able to escape or not; he called out.

“Illya? ILLYA! That you?”

He watched as a blond head rose from the mattress, as the Russian struggled to sit up.

“I am here.”

“Are you sick...running a fever? Machado said you were.”

“Yes but I am fine.”

“I’ve heard that before,”Napoleon mumbled to himself.” Apparently Sylvia our stewardess is the General’s daughter and orchestrated the little charade that has apparently brought us back to square one again.”

“Oh, I was wondering how I had gotten here. At first I thought it was all a dream and that we never escaped the prison in the first place, but then my stitches reminded me of the truth. I am afraid they are indeed infected, and my medication is missing.”

“Yeah, about that. Machado destroyed your antibiotics.”

“Where is April? Is she all right?” Illya rose from the bunk, a fit of coughing hitting him as he took a tentative step forward, grabbing onto the bars of his cell to steady himself; like Napoleon, he felt dizzy.

He looked down at his side, lifting his jacket and seeing a red stain on his shirt, but said nothing.

“Napoleon I believe we are not far from Dr. Bloom’s cell,” Illya’s voice echoed in the empty prison block.

“So?”

“When we get out, I will need to search it for some of his herbal concoctions to use on my infection.  Since we left the prison in haste the first time, I am sure he would have had to have left the majority of his supplies behind.”

“Okay, say we get out and find his stash. How will you know what can help you?”Napoleon asked after lowering himself to the floor, as it was still too difficult to stand at the moment.

“I managed to have a few discussions with Dr. Bloom, and he showed me some of his herbal mixtures. He has made a fascinating study of the flora of the Amazonian rainforest and his..”

“Okay, I get, I get it tovarisch. So how do you propose we get out of here? They cleaned me out, I have nothing to use. How about you?”

Illya reached into his mouth with a shaky hand, fiddling with his fingers until he unwound a wire that was wrapped around his back molar..

“With this,” he tried smiling.

“Smart Russian. Okay, have at it, but while you go get your herbs I’ll go find April. Machado said he had her the Warden’s office.”

“That sounds like a plan. If it is still there, there is something in Bloom’s medical bag of tricks that we can use to help affect our escape from this place,” Illya sighed. “I never thought we would see this hell hole again.”

“Hey me either buddy, now make with the lock pick. Andiamo_let’s go,” Napoleon called out in Italian.

Illya reached through the bars, inserting the wire into the lock but his trembling hand was not cooperating.

“Chyort!” He cursed in Russian. He’d dropped the wire and it fell to the floor outside of the cell.

He carefully lowered himself to his hands and knees, feeling around in the dim light for a few minutes.

“Yes!” He hissed with delight when he felt it. He raised himself up, starting the process again, forcing himself to concentrate in order to keep his hand steady.

There was a double click and the cell door pushed open.

Illya walked across to his partner, doing the same to Napoleon’s door and in just a second the Russian had it unlocked.

Solo grabbed his partner by the arm, steadying himself. Illya was hot as hell from the fever and if they didn’t do something about that Napoleon knew the Russian could possibly pass out.

They made their way across the empty cell block, at last finding Dr. Bloom’s former cell. There was a makeshift shell containing jar after jar of dried plants and bits of cloth with herbs wrapped inside them.

“How do you know which ones are right?” Napoleon asked.

“I remember Bloom pointing to things as he spoke. If nothing was moved out of place then I will find what I need. My sense of smell will also aid me in the process as the poultice he used on me had a very specific odor, that I will recognize.”

Illya sniffed each of the jars, selecting two of them, and a small vial of red liquid.

“This is Icoja bark: and is used for fever, It is also an astringent and disinfectant for healing septic wounds.”

“These are bits from the cocoa tree and are also used for fever. And this red substance is sap called Sangre de Drago...dragon’s blood and is an excellent wound healer.”

Illya made up several pouches, including a few other herbs that were not named by him that he’d take with them; thinking positively they were going to escape.

There was a bucket of drinking water still there in the cell and he used it to make the wash with the Icoja bark. Peeling away the bandages covering his wound, the infection was revealed.

The skin around the stitches was bright red, and hot to the touch and there was a small about of bloody pus oozing out.

He took care of the wash, made a new poultice and Solo again volunteered his shirt, ripping it into strips to create a bandage that could again be tied into place.  The last thing Kuryakin did was to swallow the fever reducing herbs, washed down with a swig of water.

Their supply of the doctor’s concoctions were wrapped in the remainder of Napoleon’s silk shirt.

“Accounting is going to love this one.” Solo remarked.

“I think it will be a cheap price to pay for potentially saving my life.”

“What do you mean, potentially?”

“Napoleon, though Dr. Bloom’s work does show promise it is still only in the research phase. I do not know if these so-called treatments will truly work or not, but they are the best chance I have until we make it back to civilization.”

“You almost finished with this?”

“Yes, go find April. I will meet you at the Warden’s office. Be careful my friend.

“Likewise.” Napoleon took off, feeling more himself now. He wasn’t exactly happy about leaving Illya but at the same time something told him he had to find April...and fast.


PART 11

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you. No things are never simpler for our MFU are they? Lots more to come.