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section7mfuPart 1
“What kind of person has cells in their basement?”
“You’d be surprised,” Illya mumbled.
Cat was sitting, cross-legged, in one corner, while the injured Russian lay on the small cot. Ignoring his grumpy protestations, she had seen to Illya’s gunshot wound, and found it was merely a graze. It would be sore, but it wasn’t life-threatening. She was still worried about him, though. The kick which had been aimed at his head had been particularly brutal. The man was still dazed, and seemed to be having a little difficulty focusing on things. Despite this, he kept telling her he was fine.
“Are you always this stubborn?” Cat asked, with a smile.
“So my partner informs me.”
“Tell me Mr Kuryakin, or may I call you Illya?”
“Please do.”
“How much trouble have I got myself into?” she continued. “Who is that man, and why is that Bastet figure so important?”
“His name is . . . erm . . .” Illya struggled to remember the name, but finally reach it through the pounding in his head. “Nagendra.”
Somewhat slowly, Illya gave Cat a potted history of U.N.C.L.E and THRUSH, and explained why they needed what was in the figure, rather than the figure itself.
“So, if I’m reading this correctly, we need to get out of here and get the . . . microfilm ? . . before it is taken elsewhere.”
“I, not we,” countered Illya.
Cat snorted with derision. “The state you’re in, you’ll need my help. You wouldn’t happen to have a lock pick on you?”
Carefully sitting himself up, Illya opened the heel of his shoe and handed her his pick. He watched Cat as she worked on the lock of the cell, and was impressed that she was almost as quick as he was. It wasn’t the only thing about her which impressed him. She was beautiful, feisty and obviously courageous. He smiled to himself, and decided that he must have been hanging around Napoleon for too long. Once the cell was unlocked, Cat helped Illya to his feet. He swayed slightly, but still insisted he was fine. As they made their way out of the basement, other than having to incapacitate one guard and steal his weapon, they had no trouble getting to the main areas of the house.
Nagendra was on the telephone in his study when Illya and Cat entered; he had the Bastet figure in his lap. It took him a couple of minutes to realise there was someone there, and that he had a rifle pointed at him.
“I should have realised you would escape,” he snarled. “It won’t do you any good. I have men all over the house, and I have people coming from Central to retrieve you, Kuryakin.”
“We shall be long gone by then,” Illya replied, coldly. “Hand over the microfilm.”
Nagendra stood, still holding the figure, and walked to the front of his desk.
“You don’t look to steady on your feet,” he commented.
Illya wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but he was feeling incredibly dizzy and nauseated. He had tried to ignore it, as he’d done many times in the past, but once it was pointed out he couldn’t prevent himself from dropping to his knees.
Nagendra made a grab for the weapon, but was stopped by Cat, who punched him in the face. As he stumbled backwards, he dropped the statuette, which shattered into a thousand pieces. Before Nagendra could retrieve the microfilm from the debris, Catherine kneed him under the chin. He fell back heavily against his desk, but had no time to recover, as Cat began to pummel him around the head. While she dealt with the Thrushman, Illya surreptitiously pocketed the microfilm, and started to look around for his confiscated equipment. He finally found it all in a drawer, and was about to fire a sleep dart at Nagendra when Cat landed a knock-out punch.
“Time to go,” Illya slurred.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
A few hours later, Illya was reluctantly released from medical, with strict instructions to rest for a couple of days. Following a brief search, he found Cat in the commissary with Napoleon. Solo’s body language broadcast to the world that he was hitting on the woman. Catherine’s, whilst friendly, clearly indicated she wasn’t interested in the brunet. Illya suppressed a smug smirk and joined them at their table. Cat’s body language instantly transformed. Napoleon looked at his partner sourly; he never liked it when he lost out to Illya.
“Did you get the microfilm analysed?” The Russian asked, as he sat down.
“Yes. It was full of lots of lovely details about THRUSH’s North Africa operations,” Napoleon told him. “Miss Felina has been telling me of her adventure. It seems she was the one who rescued you.”
“It was predestined,” Illya answered, enigmatically.
“What do you mean, Illya?” Cat asked, in a tone which sent both men’s pulses racing.
“In Egyptian mythology, the goddess Bastet defeated the serpent god, Apophis,” he explained. “The name Nagendra is an Indian name meaning ‘Lord of Snakes’.”
Without saying a word, Cat leant over and kissed Illya on the cheek. He immediately flushed bright red, but couldn’t help but enjoy the expression of disapproval on Napoleon’s face.
“What kind of person has cells in their basement?”
“You’d be surprised,” Illya mumbled.
Cat was sitting, cross-legged, in one corner, while the injured Russian lay on the small cot. Ignoring his grumpy protestations, she had seen to Illya’s gunshot wound, and found it was merely a graze. It would be sore, but it wasn’t life-threatening. She was still worried about him, though. The kick which had been aimed at his head had been particularly brutal. The man was still dazed, and seemed to be having a little difficulty focusing on things. Despite this, he kept telling her he was fine.
“Are you always this stubborn?” Cat asked, with a smile.
“So my partner informs me.”
“Tell me Mr Kuryakin, or may I call you Illya?”
“Please do.”
“How much trouble have I got myself into?” she continued. “Who is that man, and why is that Bastet figure so important?”
“His name is . . . erm . . .” Illya struggled to remember the name, but finally reach it through the pounding in his head. “Nagendra.”
Somewhat slowly, Illya gave Cat a potted history of U.N.C.L.E and THRUSH, and explained why they needed what was in the figure, rather than the figure itself.
“So, if I’m reading this correctly, we need to get out of here and get the . . . microfilm ? . . before it is taken elsewhere.”
“I, not we,” countered Illya.
Cat snorted with derision. “The state you’re in, you’ll need my help. You wouldn’t happen to have a lock pick on you?”
Carefully sitting himself up, Illya opened the heel of his shoe and handed her his pick. He watched Cat as she worked on the lock of the cell, and was impressed that she was almost as quick as he was. It wasn’t the only thing about her which impressed him. She was beautiful, feisty and obviously courageous. He smiled to himself, and decided that he must have been hanging around Napoleon for too long. Once the cell was unlocked, Cat helped Illya to his feet. He swayed slightly, but still insisted he was fine. As they made their way out of the basement, other than having to incapacitate one guard and steal his weapon, they had no trouble getting to the main areas of the house.
Nagendra was on the telephone in his study when Illya and Cat entered; he had the Bastet figure in his lap. It took him a couple of minutes to realise there was someone there, and that he had a rifle pointed at him.
“I should have realised you would escape,” he snarled. “It won’t do you any good. I have men all over the house, and I have people coming from Central to retrieve you, Kuryakin.”
“We shall be long gone by then,” Illya replied, coldly. “Hand over the microfilm.”
Nagendra stood, still holding the figure, and walked to the front of his desk.
“You don’t look to steady on your feet,” he commented.
Illya wouldn’t have admitted it out loud, but he was feeling incredibly dizzy and nauseated. He had tried to ignore it, as he’d done many times in the past, but once it was pointed out he couldn’t prevent himself from dropping to his knees.
Nagendra made a grab for the weapon, but was stopped by Cat, who punched him in the face. As he stumbled backwards, he dropped the statuette, which shattered into a thousand pieces. Before Nagendra could retrieve the microfilm from the debris, Catherine kneed him under the chin. He fell back heavily against his desk, but had no time to recover, as Cat began to pummel him around the head. While she dealt with the Thrushman, Illya surreptitiously pocketed the microfilm, and started to look around for his confiscated equipment. He finally found it all in a drawer, and was about to fire a sleep dart at Nagendra when Cat landed a knock-out punch.
“Time to go,” Illya slurred.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………
A few hours later, Illya was reluctantly released from medical, with strict instructions to rest for a couple of days. Following a brief search, he found Cat in the commissary with Napoleon. Solo’s body language broadcast to the world that he was hitting on the woman. Catherine’s, whilst friendly, clearly indicated she wasn’t interested in the brunet. Illya suppressed a smug smirk and joined them at their table. Cat’s body language instantly transformed. Napoleon looked at his partner sourly; he never liked it when he lost out to Illya.
“Did you get the microfilm analysed?” The Russian asked, as he sat down.
“Yes. It was full of lots of lovely details about THRUSH’s North Africa operations,” Napoleon told him. “Miss Felina has been telling me of her adventure. It seems she was the one who rescued you.”
“It was predestined,” Illya answered, enigmatically.
“What do you mean, Illya?” Cat asked, in a tone which sent both men’s pulses racing.
“In Egyptian mythology, the goddess Bastet defeated the serpent god, Apophis,” he explained. “The name Nagendra is an Indian name meaning ‘Lord of Snakes’.”
Without saying a word, Cat leant over and kissed Illya on the cheek. He immediately flushed bright red, but couldn’t help but enjoy the expression of disapproval on Napoleon’s face.
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no subject
Date: 2015-03-11 11:17 pm (UTC)Nice new female OC to add to the list of women who have dealings with UNCLE.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-11 11:23 pm (UTC)I like Cat too, and I'm certain she'll show up a few more times. There may even need to be a little trip to the Map Room one day ;-)
Thanks for reading, and I'm glad you liked it.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-11 11:44 pm (UTC)Love it when the blond gets the girl. This cat character of your's is interesting and able to hold her own. I hope to run across her in more of your fics.
Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge. Know what I mean?
no subject
Date: 2015-03-11 11:49 pm (UTC)It's subtle, but I think I can just make out your hint for more of her :-D She'll show up again. She's just the sort of feisty woman Illya needs in his life.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 12:26 am (UTC)I like the little word play at the end, too.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 01:20 am (UTC)I have a bit of an interest in Egyptology, so I had to get the Bastet and Apophis angle in somehow.
no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 02:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-03-12 08:46 am (UTC)