Friday the 13th Chapter 9

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Oooops, I almost forgot to post this!

                                                     

It was just after sunrise when the gunfire began again. Solo and Kuryakin were pinned down in a rocky outcrop, surrounded by a group of THRUSH mooks.

“You realize the date do you not?” Illya said as he got off a shot; ducking behind the large boulder as a bullet ricocheted off its surface.

“I do, but I think if it was unlucky for us today then we would have already been killed.” Napoleon responded.

“Perhaps it is just because they are poor shots and nothing more?”

“Maybe. I don’t know about you but I’m getting a little tired of this situation. What say we just go for it like Bonnie and Clyde or Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?”

“Napoleon may I remind you that none of them survived their last escape, so they were not good examples to choose.”

Solo canted his head to one side, thinking for a second.

“All right, how about Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock?”

“Television characters are the best you can come up with?”

“Well you didn’t like my first choices.”

“That is because they are dead.”

“So what don’t you like about Kirk and Spock chum?”

“Did I say I did not like them?”

“Well no, but…”

“So I suppose I must be Spock.”

“Well you would look cute with pointy ears,” Solo grinned.

“I would have preferred you said it was because of my flawless logic.”

“Well that too.”

Illya reached into his pocket, pulling out a hot pink rabbit’s foot along with a collection of other amulets.”

“So do you think we no longer need these?”

“Whoa, wait a minute tovarisch, let’s not push our luck,” Napoleon protested.

“Well if I am under the umbrella of the Solo luck at this point, then I think all will be fine. I say to hell with Friday the 13th.”

Napoleon studied his partner for a moment,finally agreeing with him wholeheartedly.

“Live long and prosper tovarisch,” he smiled.

“Peace and long life moy brat,” Illya replied; though neither of them used the Vulcan hand gesture.

They each had their Specials as well as another pair of pistols; cocked and ready they stepped out of their hiding place...guns blazing in both hands.

Within minutes the Thrushies had all been dispatched and the two U.N.C.L.E. agents walked amongst the dead and unconscious, doing a head count to be sure they’d gotten them all. Between the sleep darts and live rounds they had.

Illya, reaching his hand into his jacket pocket, pulled out his rabbit’s foot. Somehow it had been hit by a bullet, but must deflected the shot and saved the Russian from being wounded.

He held it up for Napoleon to see.

“I do not think I am willing to give my charms up after all.”

“Looks like you need a new rabbit’s foot partner mine,” the American took it from Illya’s hand, dangling the remnants of it in the air.

“No thank you, I think this one will do nicely,” Kuryakin snatched it back, shoving it in his breast pocket.

Comments

[bonniejean1953.livejournal.com]

Enjoyed this tale immensely. Thanks!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much! I'm glad you enjoyed it and I appreciate your taking the time to comment.