"Escape from the End of the World" Part 11

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Links to parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

WARNING: This chapter is gen-mature, though nothing explicit.

                               

April Dancer opened her eyes, though a groggy feeling filled her; still she knew she was no longer on the private jet.

Looking down at herself, she slowly raised her hands. They were free, but something was very wrong. She was not wearing the clothes she had dressed herself in that morning, instead she was wearing what looked like lingerie.  A long white gown of sorts, clinging and revealing, so much so that she might have just as well been naked.

She wondered for a minute if it was just a silly dream, and pinched her forearm. Where was Napoleon, was she dreaming about a rendezvous with him?

“Ouch. No this is definitely not a dream,” the red-haired agent said aloud.

She was seated in a high backed leather chair that was quite comfortable, and surveying her surroundings as her head began to slowly clear, April surmised it to be some sort of private office.

There was a large carved wooden desk in front of her flanked on either side by several large potted tropical plants. One of the walls was taken up entirely by a bookcase filled with a variety of tomes. To her right was a door, but since her field of vision was limited, she couldn’t see what was behind her.

There she heard a door creak and heavy footsteps coming closer.

“Oh Senhorita, at last you are awake.” General Machado appeared in front of her, seating himself on the corner of the desk.

“And how are you feeling my dear?”

“Where’s Napoleon and Illya? What have you done with them?”

“Done? Oh nothing...yet. I do, however, have plans for them, as I do for you.” His voice was oozing with sincerity.

“I told you if you hurt them, I’ll have to shoot…”

The General threw back his head, his body shaking with laugher.

“You are hardly in a position to threaten me. Come come now, we can have a civil conversation without talking about killing.  You are quite a beautiful woman as well as a formidable one, I find that extremely attractive. You must be thirsty, may I offer you a drink of cool water?”

He lifted a pitcher from the desk and filling a glass, he handed it to her.

April’s throat was parched and she accepted it from him, swallowing it down in a few gulps.

“There I bet you feel much better now don’t you?” He reached out, running his finger along her bare arm.

Normally such a thing would repulse her, and though she felt that way, her body didn’t respond to her mind telling her to pull away. She suddenly had the sensation of being very heavy as if she were being drawn down to the earth.

“What did you give me?” She was barely able to talk. Her body starting tingling, especially in places she shouldn’t be having those feelings right now, not with this man.

His piercing blue eyes caught her attention, and she found herself unable to break contact with them.

“You will listen to everything I say Miss Dancer, you will not resist me.” Machado said it to her again and again. “Now repeat what I have said to you.”

“Will listen, will not resist…” April’s voice was small, monotone.

“Good. Come my dear, I think you are ready for me.” Machado reached out his hand, taking her’s, he led April to the other door, though she didn’t want to go.

He opened it, revealing a bedroom with a large dark four-poster bed hung with diaphonus curtains and a silken white coverlette atop a soft, inviting mattress.

Machado took her to it and as she stood there motionless, he swept away  her hair from the back of her neck his hand and began to kiss and suck on her skin.

She wanted to lash out at him but had absolutely no control over her body. Whatever he’d given her in that glass of water had taken away her ability to act.

The General lifted the delicate white gown above her head, removing it, and then it began. He touched her everywhere with his hands and mouth.Turning her around, he forced his lips onto hers.

He tasted of cigars and liquor and she wanted to gag, but couldn’t.

Lowering April to the bed; Machado spread her legs, staring at her hungrily. “Ah so you are a true redhead,” he snickered.

He unzipped his trousers, and dropping them, he climbed on top of her.

April could do nothing but lay there, feeling only the heaviness of body as he violated her.

She screamed but there was no sound, Feelings of helplessness and despair took over her emotions as her heart pounded and her breathing quickened.

Her head flopped to the side; tears trickling down her cheeks while the General proceeded to do vile things to her.  She finally let out a moan, when the pain this sadistic animal had inflicted upon her became unbearable.

“Ah so you like it rough,” Machado said.”Don’t worry there is plenty more where that came from. I just may keep you around to amuse me for a while.”

Napoleon found the Warden’s office easily enough as when he and Illya had been first brought to the prison when on their assignment, a visit  there was mandatory for all new prisoners.

The door was closed, and he listened, not hearing anything. He slowly opened it,  finding the office empty. Solo began searching the desk for any sort of weapon, and discovered a revolver in the top drawer, along with a box of bullets.

“Bingo,” he smiled. That was when he heard it, grunts coming from the next room, and a repetitious dull, thud thud thud thud….

The door was slightly ajar and he peeked in, seeing Machado in bed on top of a woman. It took him a second to realize who that woman was.

Napoleon was filled with rage and charged in; pistol whipping the man. Machado dropped on top of April, and Solo quickly pulled him off her, dumping the General to the floor.

April was laying there, glassy eyed, with tears were streaming down her cheeks.  She was bruised and bleeding from her lower extremities, as the General had abused her terribly.

Napoleon called her name, but she was unresponsive.

“April honey. It’s okay you’re all right. I’m here...I’m here. Come back to me baby,” he held her in his arms, whispering to her, pleading with her.

Nothing.

Solo hesitated, looking between the revolver in his hand and the General;  He should kill the bastard and aiming the pistol at Machado’s head; he   stopped himself; if Illya were here, the Russian wouldn’t hesitate in blowing out the man’s brains, but he wasn’t.

Napoleon stopped himself and tucked the weapon into the waist of his trousers; shoving the box of bullets into his pocket.

He bend down, picking up the white gown from the floor and slipped April into it;  wrapping her in a sheet from the bed; Napoleon scooped her up into his arms.

He carried her out of the office, down a corridor to the landing where he’d hoped Illya would be, but there was no sign of the Russian.

.

Illya finished gathering everything he needed to treat his infection and fever, putting it in a small canvas bag that Bloom kept under his mattress. The last thing he did was stuff a sealed jar of white powder into it and slinging it over his shoulder; Illya headed out to find his partner and April.

Like Napoleon, he knew the way to the Warden’s office.

The corridors were dimly lit, since the prison had seemingly been abandoned. As he prepared to climb the steps leading to the next level  where the office was located, Illya heard a sound.

He slowly put down the canvas bag, and unscrewing the jar of white powder he carefully took some of it into hand.

It was then he heard the shrill screech as someone dove towards him, leaping onto his back and grabbing him by the throat, trying to strangle him with a riding crop.

Illya drove himself backwards, slamming Sylvia against a the bars of a cell door, again and again until she released her grip.  She slipped down to the floor as Illya staggered forward, gasping for air.

His side was bleeding again and he doubled over in pain. Just as he straightened up, Sylvia attacked him again, trying to rake her fingernails across his face.

Illya went down on his knees, using her own momentup to throw her off him. As she hit the floor, landing on her back, he opened up his fist and taking a deep breath he blew the white powder in her face.

She breathed it in with a gasp, and crossing her eyes; she passed out.

The powder was something Dr. Bloom used to quickly knock out a patient when he had to perform a painful operation, though he never told Kuryakin what the ingredients were.

“Thank you Doctor,” Illya coughed, gasping to catch his breath. He gathered up the canvas bag, and though he was staggering, he headed up the stairs to find the others.

The pain in his side was severe and he held his hand to it as he coughed again, this time quite violently.

Blooms poultice and fever treatments would only do so much, and Illya knew that if he didn’t get proper medical attention soon, the Amazon rainforest would claim him as its next victim.

PART 12

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

OMG poor April. Napoleon was able to restrain himself from killing Machado, but I don't think Illya will. Assuming his injury doesn't overwhelm him first.

I'm loving all of this angst.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

(chuckling) yeah this one is getting pretty angsty isn't it? Thanks for commenting, and more angstiness to come.