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100promptsTitle: All Down Hill from Here
Word Count: 4283
Characters: Napoleon Solo, Natalia Povlovsky, Gaby Teller, Illya Kuryakin
SL:The Man From U.N.C.L.E. When In Rome
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Rating: Mature
Prompt: #026 Meager for100prompts
Summary: Illya shook his head. “Your plan better work, cowboy,” Illya said looking over Napoleon’s shoulder.
“Have some faith, Peril. The plan will work,” Solo replied. Maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it, too.
A/N: Thanks to my Beta Somedeepmystery [AO3]
Disclaimer: The story is mine, but the characters do not belong to me.
The noise in the hall grew louder as people scrambled around desperate to escape the chaos. Solo swung around just in time to see the rest of his team head toward them. Time was of the essence. If they had any chance of getting out of that mansion alive, they had to move quickly.
“Did you find the others?” Gaby whispered loud enough for only Napoleon to hear.
“Yes, just down that hall. We’ll have to move fast,” he replied in a rush. “I’ll go first and the rest of you follow me. Don’t make it obvious,” he said before shouting a command in Spanish to the panicked guests.
Solo gripped his gun and pushed his way from the center of the crowd toward the side hallway. He hoped the young guard from earlier had abandoned his post to deal with the chaos. Solo wasn’t opposed to using his gun, but the boy was young. He wanted to avoid having to use his gun on the kid. The boy was just a soldier. They were built to follow orders. He had no personal stake in this fight. As Solo made his way down the hall, he heard the rapid fire of guns and clinched his rifle tighter.
“I’m really sticking my neck out for you this time, Solo.”
The words of Carl Davenport, his CIA contact echoed in his ears. Napoleon was sure that firing guns at the home of a foreign president by the CIA constituted as some kind of war crime. Stack that on top of the controlled explosion in the middle of town… Solo was not looking forward to his meeting with Waverly at all. Napoleon quickened his steps to a brisk stride. The rest of his team followed at a safe distance as to not draw too much attention to themselves. No one noticed or seemed to care that the foursome was heading in the wrong direction. They were preoccupied with the possible attack on the president. Was it another government coop? Had the United States turned their missiles back on their country? Did the prisoners escape from the prison and finally overrun the island? No one knew what was going on. Solo assumed that someone was securing the president while they figured it out. He turned the last corner and was relieved to see the young military man was gone. Solo sighed gratefully for the bit of fortune when he spotted the empty post. He furtively tried the door handle and found it locked.
“I can open it,” Natalia volunteered.
“No need,” he said producing the keys he had stolen from the soldier earlier that evening.
Natalia smiled in relief and watched closely as he sifted through the them until he found the right one. The door unlocked with a soft click. “Watch out for the stairs,” he said in a hushed tone as the group followed him down to the lowest level of the house. Illya held the back of the line and watched for any unwanted company. Solo followed the same pathway as before and led the rest of the team to the locked prison doors where Natalia’s father was being held.
“Natalia, your father’s in here,” Solo said stopping in front of the door. “Kirkoff should be about a few feet away. Illya and Gaby,” he instructed. The two spies gave him a brisk nod before moving further down the dank hallway. Solo turned back to Natalia. “What you're about to see…” he said thinking of the gaunt man behind the door. “We’ll need to move quickly, you understand?”
Natalia bobbed her head in response and Solo shifted his attention back to the keys in his hands. None of them worked. He examined the lock. It was easy enough to pick, but they had to move.
“Step back,” he said to his partner and pulled out his gun. Solo banged on the steel door, alerting Povlovsky. “Sergei, it’s me again,” he said through the door. “I’ll need you to take cover.”
Solo looked down the hall toward Illya and Gaby. Both men cocked their guns at the same time. Solo held up three fingers before turning back toward the door. One…he counted in silence. Two… three. On the third count, Solo and Illya let off a round at the same time. The sound of the gunshot echoed underground. Solo winced and hoped that no one on the floor above heard them. He ignored the slight ringing in his ear and stepped into the cell. This time Sergei was huddled in the corner opposite of the door away from the shower of bullets. As soon as Natalia saw her father, she ran into the older man’s arms.
“Papa!” she cried out.
Solo watched the reunion in grim silence. Natalia gently touched her father’s face, running her fingertips over the deep lines and creases. He aged considerably since the last time she saw him. His face was thin, and his cheeks were nearly sunken in.
“What did they do to you?” she said, outraged. Tears pooled in her round eyes.
Sergei cupped his daughter’s cheeks in his hands. “It doesn’t matter,” he spoke in Russian. “You are here now. You came for me.”
“Yes. And I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”
“No need to be sorry, little heart,” Sergei said resting his forehead against hers. “I am better now.”
“As much as I hate to break up this touching moment, we’ve got to go,” Solo said reminding Natalia of the time.
Sergei hesitated for a moment, looking over Solo’s Cuban military regalia. “He’s not Cuban, papa,” Natalia assured him. “He’s here to help us escape. You must trust us.”
Sergei nodded his head and followed his daughter and Solo out the small cell.
++++
Down the hall, Illya and Gaby burst into the second cell to find Kirkoff bruised and badly beaten. The German scientist looked up and grimaced at his intruders. “You again,” he spat recognizing Gaby.
“Shut up,” Illya commanded tightly.
“We’re going to get you out of here,” Gaby said, stepping forward. “Illya.”
The spy moved to the other side of Kirkoff. Instead of helping Gaby hoist him to his feet, he trained his gun at the other man’s head and pulled back the safety. “Give me the code,” he commanded in his steely Russian accent.
Kirkoff lifted his head and grinned through bloodstained teeth. “Not on your life. You get me out of here and then I’ll give you the code.”
“Have you given it to the Cubans?” Illya prodded.
“If I did, do you think I’d still be alive?”
“Come on, we don’t have time for this,” Gaby said helping Kirkoff to his feet.
Illya flexed his jaw, suppressing his agitation. Gaby was right, they had to move. As much as he would have enjoyed getting the code from him, they only had a limited amount of time to get out of that house. Illya gave Kirkoff a light shove out the door and followed him into the hallway.
“Good. Everyone is accounted for,” Solo said once everyone was within sight. “This way.” He led them back through the dank hall and up the stairs again. Solo lifted a finger to his lips and stuck his head outside of the door. The hallway was empty, giving it an eerie feeling. “All clear. Let’s go,” he said briskly.
The group moved down the hall in tandem. Solo led the way with his gun handy. Natalia reached beneath her skirt and pulled out the Smith and Wesson she carried with her back when they were in Rome. Solo hoped they wouldn’t have to use their guns at all. The mansion was crawling with military. They were outmanned and outgunned. The closer they got to the end of the hall he could hear the sound of confusion.
“There’s got to be another way out of here,” Gaby said, peaking around the corner. “We’re not getting through that,” she said eying one of the military guards.
Solo tried to picture the plans to the mansion in his head. “Natalia,” he said turning toward her. “In the plans, I remember a side door that goes in and out of the kitchen. Do you recall seeing it at all?
Natalia paused a moment to think. “Yes. That’s where the deliveries are made. I can take you to the kitchen. But we’ll have to figure out a way to get past that,” she said nodding her head.
Solo peered down the hall. They had to get by a crowd of people undetected with two half-starved prisoners and a pretend Russian diplomat. He could do it. Solo had faced bigger challenges in the past. “The women will go first. Then you and Kirkoff, Peril. Try to keep him on the inside and move fast. Then I’ll follow with Povlovsky.”
“I’ll take my father,” Natalia protested.
“No. Too dangerous. I need you and Gaby to go first. This is not up for debate, Natalia.”
Natalia conceded with an eye roll. “Fine.”
The air was thick with tension as they made their way to the other side of the hall. Solo could hear his heart beating in his ears as Natalia and Gaby stepped out of the shadows and crossed the hall. He held his breath until they were safely on the other side beckoning Illya to follow with Kirkoff. Beside him, Sergei muttered a few prayers in Russian and watched the two men crossover. When it was their turn, Solo gave Sergei a slight nod of his head and moved forward. The crowd was so wound up that none of the guards noticed them when they walked by. Once they were across the hall, Solo jogged ahead of the group with Natalia beside him. They followed the path to the kitchen together. Illya shoved Kirkoff forward again when the man began to slow down.
“Through there,” Natalia instructed, pointing toward a door.
They were almost there. Solo could taste freedom. Illya moved ahead of him, volunteering to check if everything was clear. He peered out the door and gave a slight nod. The back of the mansion was surprisingly quiet as they filed outside together. “They must have moved them to the other side of the house,” Solo whispered. “Let’s go.”
They moved briskly over the manicured lawn and ran toward the gate in the back. Solo’s stride slowed when he noticed the guards lining their exit as if they were waiting for them. He gripped the gun in his hand.
“Dammit,” Gaby muttered.
Solo’s jaw tightened as he tried to think of a plan. He counted three guards and a truck. Off to the left was a small building made of brick. “Hide behind that,” he instructed. “I’ll give you a signal and then you run.”
“Solo, wait,” Natalia said, grabbing his upper arm. “You don’t have to do this.”
Solo looked down at the hand wrapped around his jacket. “Yes, I do,” he said before taking off.
Napoleon straightened the green military jacket he wore and stepped out of the shadows. As soon as he was visible the men all saluted him. Luck was on their side again. He outranked all of them. Solo eyed one of the nearby trucks. “I need a transport,” he spoke confidently in Spanish.
“No one leaves the house, sir,” one of the officers spoke up. “I’m sorry. Orders.”
“I have a dignitary here from Russia. Our priority is to get him to safety. If your commanding officer hears about this…”
The men gripped their guns tighter. The officer who spoke earlier eyed Solo skeptically. He read the name on his uniform and looked at Napoleon’s face again before whispering something to the other two men. While he spoke, he kept his eyes trained on Solo.
“Sir, there was an explosion outside of the building and in the center of town. We cannot let anyone leave this place.”
“Well, you’re going to let me leave or I’ll make sure you’re all court-martialed for disobeying a direct order from your superior.” The men went silent as they debated what to do next. The leader of the group nodded his head reluctantly and stepped aside.
“Good. I’m glad you came to your senses. But I’m still going to have to report your insubordination,” Solo continued in Spanish. “Now, I want you all to stand over there. Turn around and keep your back turned to me. Do not turn around no matter what.”
“Yes, sir!” they shouted and took their positions.
Solo lifted his arm and beckoned the others to join him. He kept his eyes on the soldiers to make sure they didn’t turn around as his team moved toward the truck. Natalia helped her father in the jeep beside her, followed by Gaby, Kirkoff, and Illya. Solo waited until they were all secured in the vehicle before climbing into the driver’s side. He felt around for the key and realized it wasn’t there.
“Private Diaz,” he said calling over one of the soldiers. “Where are the keys to this vehicle?”
“I have them, sir,” the officer said, walking over to the truck. Diaz patted himself down for the key.
Solo watched him carefully and kept his hand wrapped around his gun. He placed his finger on the trigger and held his breath. A few seconds later, the soldier handed Solo the key. He could feel the tension in the car ebb the moment it fell into his palm. “Soldier,” he said and turned the key in the ignition. Solo started the truck and gently lifted his foot off the break. The jeep rolled forward slowly. As they drove by, the soldier peered inside spotting Povlovsky and Kirkoff.
“Wait! Stop!” he yelled out.
Solo slammed his foot down on the gas and took off. The jeep skidded across the gravel as he drove frantically down the road, trying to avoid the rough terrain. Behind them, the soldiers piled into another car and took chase. Illya pulled himself up and shot at the soldiers from the backseat of the jeep. Bullets sparked against metal, lighting up the night sky. Solo kept his head low as enemy fire whizzed past him.
“Everyone stay down!” he shouted.
Natalia held her father close to her and tried to shield his body against any stray bullets.
“Give me your gun!” Gaby yelled at Natalia. Over the last few months, Gaby had become quite skilled with them. The Russian handed her pistol over to Gaby and the younger spy began firing off shots along with Illya. Solo took a shoulder sharply as they sped down the side of the cliff. Illya tilted to the side nearly losing his balance but continued to shoot at the car behind them. The soldiers were moving in closer. Solo floored the jeep but couldn’t make it go any faster. A cloud of dust puffed up behind them obscuring Illya and Gaby’s view. A bullet grazed Gaby’s arm causing her to cry out in shock. Illya lowered himself down beside her.
“Keep shooting!” she said to Illya. “It’s nothing. I’ll be alright.” She turned her body so she could see Solo. “Go left!” Gaby yelled from the back seat as bullets continued to whiz over their heads.
“We’ll go flying off the side of this road!” Solo called back.
“Trust me!”
Solo looked at her through the rearview mirror. She stared back at him with determination in her eyes. Solo gave her a slight nod of his head. She was the driver. He knew he could trust her. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pulled the car sharply to the left. The vehicle fishtailed wildly for a few moments before he was able to regain control of it. Behind them, the soldiers tried to do the same. Their truck fished tailed hard to the right sending them over the cliff and down into the jagged ocean rocks below. Solo looked through the rearview mirror and gave Gaby a slight smile. She did well, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. They needed to find a way to get off the island. Solo trained his eyes back on the road while Illya carefully tended to Gaby’s wound.
“Well, that takes care of those guys,” Natalia said from the backseat. “But how the hell are we going to get off this island?” she asked reading his mind.
“By boat,” Povlovsky said. “There are docks nearby.”
“Good idea, if we can find one big enough and fast enough to hold us all,” Natalia said.
Sergei shook his head and pointed to Kirkoff. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”
Solo slowed the vehicle so he could get a better look at their prisoner. His glassy eyes were wide open, staring unseeingly into the distance. Everyone turned their gaze toward Kirkoff. The bullet that grazed Gaby’s arm had met another target, piercing Kirkoff center mass, killing him.
“Damn,” Solo muttered. They got Kirkoff- or his body rather, but they hadn’t managed to get the code from him.
“He didn’t tell them,” Illya said.
“How do you know?” Solo asked, bringing the car to a stop.
“We asked him. If he had given them the code, he would be dead by now,” Gaby interjected.
That was a fair point. Kirkoff was badly beaten, but he stood his ground. Solo supposed money was more important to him than his life. Without the code, the bomb the Cubans intended to build was nothing but a shell. Or it could take years for them to crack it. By then he was sure someone else hellbent on destruction would design something bigger and deadlier. Isn’t that how the world worked anyway? Hopefully, he’d fulfill his sentence by then.
“Alright,” he said putting the car back into drive. “We’ll leave the body. Find a boat and hopefully get a signal out to Waverly.”
Illya peeled off his jacket and placed it over Kirkoff’s face. The car was silent as Solo drove the last few miles to a boating dock. When they arrived the lights were out, casting everything into deep shadows. Solo parked the car off to the side of the road where the bushes were thick and overgrown. He climbed out of the jeep first, leading the way. They were looking for a boat that would get them out of there as quickly and silently as possible.
“This one,” Illya said heading toward a Starcraft docked close by.
Solo shook his head and motioned for the team to keep moving. “No. That boat isn’t fast enough.”
“It has good mileage,” Illya argued.
“But what good is mileage if we’re going at a snail’s pace?” Solo groused.
“If I drive, we won’t go at snail’s pace.”
“First off, you don’t drive a boat. You pilot it,” Solo corrected the Soviet Spy.
“Oh, will you two just!” Gaby and Natalia and exclaimed at the same time.
“We’ll take that boat there,” Solo nodded toward a Glastron.
Illya shook his head. “Fine,” he conceded. “If you want low mileage.”
Solo rolled his eyes. He was no expert on boats, but he was pretty sure the Glastron would get the job done. They needed to get off that island as quickly as possible. Solo climbed in first with Natalia’s father close behind him. He assisted the frail man into the boat before turning to help Natalia and Gaby. Illya got in last and began unhitching the boat from the dock. Solo placed his hand under the lip of the dashboard and felt around for the key. Sometimes boat owners kept spares somewhere on the boat. After a few minutes of searching, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a penlight.
“What is hold up?” Illya whispered from the aft of the boat.
“No key.”
“I told you we should have taken the other one,” Illya snarked.
Solo continued to feel around with the light as his guide. He stuck his head beneath the wheel and searched the floor of the boat. A small bump protruded from beneath the plastic mat. The spy carefully peeled it up to expose the key.
“And I told you we’ve got the right boat,” Solo replied showing them all the key. He put it into the ignition and turned it. The boat came to life instantly. Relief flooded the team as Solo navigated it away from the dock toward the open waters.
“Are you alright, papa?” Natalia asked her father. She looked around the small boat for a blanket and placed it around his shoulders. The old man nodded and rested his head on her shoulder wearily.
Solo nodded his head toward her. He was glad they were able to rescue Natalia’s father successfully. He thought about Kirkoff’s body in the back of the jeep. Waverly wanted them to bring him in alive, but sometimes things didn’t always go to plan. The most important thing was they all made it out alive. He’d call the mission a success.
++++
Illya sat down beside Gaby. He discarded his disguise as soon as they were safely on the boat and went to find her a first aid kit. “Show me your arm,” he said to her. Gaby peeled back her fingers to reveal the surface wound. Illya stared at the red exposed flesh before his eyes met hers again. When he realized the bullet had hit her, for a few short moments all his worst fears had come to the surface. He imagined her body lying in the back of the jeep. Illya didn’t fear much, but the thought of losing Gaby made him terribly afraid.
“It’s just a scratch,” Gaby said hoarsely.
It was more than scratch, but it wouldn’t require any stitches. If the wound healed correctly, there would only be a faint scar. Illya liked the brave front she was putting on for him. He’d seen the fear in eyes when it happened. Illya began to dress her wound. He cleaned it with alcohol making her flinch beneath his touch. Gaby gritted her teeth and continued to stare at the dark waters that surrounded them.
“It’s done,” he said. His tone was gentle.
Gaby looked down at her fresh bandages. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Illya nodded his head. “You were strong. I like my woman strong.” His words echoed back to their first mission in Italy.
“Except, I’m not your woman,” Gaby said looking him in the eye. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Illya was silent for a moment as he studied the pinched expression on her face. She was right. He didn’t have to pretend anymore. “I won’t,” he said firmly.
Illya placed his hands at Gaby’s waist and gathered her close. Her lips parted into a slight ‘oh’ of surprise. Without further hesitation, Illya covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. She responded immediately, melting into his arms. Illya’s hands gently caressed her back as he deepened the kiss. Her lips were soft and pliant. Gaby threaded her hands through his hair and pressed herself against him. After a few moments, they pulled away for some air. He studied the dreamy expression on Gaby’s face and dipped his head for another kiss. His lips were about to touch hers again when Solo’s voice broke through the hazy fog in his brain.
“I see you two have finally gotten to it,” Napoleon said from the front of the boat.
“What? Got to what? What did I miss?” Natalia asked groggily beside her father.
“Peril finally stopped beating around the bush and made his move. I could hear the smacking all the way up here.”
“Oh. It’s about time,” Natalia said and closed her eyes again. “Congratulations.”
Illya looked between Natalia and Solo. He started to respond to his partner’s glib comments when the boat suddenly came to halting stop in the middle of the ocean. The engine spurted then went silent. Solo turned around and began fiddling with controls. They were out of gas.
“I told you,” Illya said.
Solo pressed his lips together and began tapping on the boat’s display panel. The engine was completely dead. They were stranded.
“What’s going on now?” Natalia said, sitting up again.
“Cowboy picked wrong boat,” Illya explained. “We are stranded in middle of ocean.”
“Now, we don’t know that. It might need a jump,” Solo said in his defense.
“Right, and who’s going to give it to us?” Gaby asked.
“Good thing I put tracker in all our shoes.” Illya’s voice brimmed with pride.
“Hopefully it’ll have a good signal this far out at sea,” Solo said.
“It does. Russian Tracker always has good signal.”
Solo rolled his eyes and sat down beside Natalia and her father. Illya was glad he had the foresight to put trackers on all of them just in case. He was starting to learn after months of working with Solo, a fail-safe was always a necessary precaution.
“What do we do now?” Gaby asked Illya as he settled down beside her.
“We wait.”
Gaby looked up at Illya with a soft sparkle in her eyes. Even though their moment was ruined by Cowboy, he didn’t regret kissing her. He only wished for better timing. Next time, Illya thought to himself. He settled down beside Gaby again at the back of the boat. “Are you cold?” he asked when he saw her shiver.
“Yes. Now come and keep your woman warm.” she said, and to his surprise, she took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder before resting her cheek against his chest. Illya smiled in the darkness. He hoped Waverly wasn’t in too much of a hurry to rescue them.
Word Count: 4283
Characters: Napoleon Solo, Natalia Povlovsky, Gaby Teller, Illya Kuryakin
SL:The Man From U.N.C.L.E. When In Rome
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Rating: Mature
Prompt: #026 Meager for
100promptsSummary: Illya shook his head. “Your plan better work, cowboy,” Illya said looking over Napoleon’s shoulder.
“Have some faith, Peril. The plan will work,” Solo replied. Maybe if he said it enough, he’d start to believe it, too.
A/N: Thanks to my Beta Somedeepmystery [AO3]
Disclaimer: The story is mine, but the characters do not belong to me.
The noise in the hall grew louder as people scrambled around desperate to escape the chaos. Solo swung around just in time to see the rest of his team head toward them. Time was of the essence. If they had any chance of getting out of that mansion alive, they had to move quickly.
“Did you find the others?” Gaby whispered loud enough for only Napoleon to hear.
“Yes, just down that hall. We’ll have to move fast,” he replied in a rush. “I’ll go first and the rest of you follow me. Don’t make it obvious,” he said before shouting a command in Spanish to the panicked guests.
Solo gripped his gun and pushed his way from the center of the crowd toward the side hallway. He hoped the young guard from earlier had abandoned his post to deal with the chaos. Solo wasn’t opposed to using his gun, but the boy was young. He wanted to avoid having to use his gun on the kid. The boy was just a soldier. They were built to follow orders. He had no personal stake in this fight. As Solo made his way down the hall, he heard the rapid fire of guns and clinched his rifle tighter.
“I’m really sticking my neck out for you this time, Solo.”
The words of Carl Davenport, his CIA contact echoed in his ears. Napoleon was sure that firing guns at the home of a foreign president by the CIA constituted as some kind of war crime. Stack that on top of the controlled explosion in the middle of town… Solo was not looking forward to his meeting with Waverly at all. Napoleon quickened his steps to a brisk stride. The rest of his team followed at a safe distance as to not draw too much attention to themselves. No one noticed or seemed to care that the foursome was heading in the wrong direction. They were preoccupied with the possible attack on the president. Was it another government coop? Had the United States turned their missiles back on their country? Did the prisoners escape from the prison and finally overrun the island? No one knew what was going on. Solo assumed that someone was securing the president while they figured it out. He turned the last corner and was relieved to see the young military man was gone. Solo sighed gratefully for the bit of fortune when he spotted the empty post. He furtively tried the door handle and found it locked.
“I can open it,” Natalia volunteered.
“No need,” he said producing the keys he had stolen from the soldier earlier that evening.
Natalia smiled in relief and watched closely as he sifted through the them until he found the right one. The door unlocked with a soft click. “Watch out for the stairs,” he said in a hushed tone as the group followed him down to the lowest level of the house. Illya held the back of the line and watched for any unwanted company. Solo followed the same pathway as before and led the rest of the team to the locked prison doors where Natalia’s father was being held.
“Natalia, your father’s in here,” Solo said stopping in front of the door. “Kirkoff should be about a few feet away. Illya and Gaby,” he instructed. The two spies gave him a brisk nod before moving further down the dank hallway. Solo turned back to Natalia. “What you're about to see…” he said thinking of the gaunt man behind the door. “We’ll need to move quickly, you understand?”
Natalia bobbed her head in response and Solo shifted his attention back to the keys in his hands. None of them worked. He examined the lock. It was easy enough to pick, but they had to move.
“Step back,” he said to his partner and pulled out his gun. Solo banged on the steel door, alerting Povlovsky. “Sergei, it’s me again,” he said through the door. “I’ll need you to take cover.”
Solo looked down the hall toward Illya and Gaby. Both men cocked their guns at the same time. Solo held up three fingers before turning back toward the door. One…he counted in silence. Two… three. On the third count, Solo and Illya let off a round at the same time. The sound of the gunshot echoed underground. Solo winced and hoped that no one on the floor above heard them. He ignored the slight ringing in his ear and stepped into the cell. This time Sergei was huddled in the corner opposite of the door away from the shower of bullets. As soon as Natalia saw her father, she ran into the older man’s arms.
“Papa!” she cried out.
Solo watched the reunion in grim silence. Natalia gently touched her father’s face, running her fingertips over the deep lines and creases. He aged considerably since the last time she saw him. His face was thin, and his cheeks were nearly sunken in.
“What did they do to you?” she said, outraged. Tears pooled in her round eyes.
Sergei cupped his daughter’s cheeks in his hands. “It doesn’t matter,” he spoke in Russian. “You are here now. You came for me.”
“Yes. And I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner.”
“No need to be sorry, little heart,” Sergei said resting his forehead against hers. “I am better now.”
“As much as I hate to break up this touching moment, we’ve got to go,” Solo said reminding Natalia of the time.
Sergei hesitated for a moment, looking over Solo’s Cuban military regalia. “He’s not Cuban, papa,” Natalia assured him. “He’s here to help us escape. You must trust us.”
Sergei nodded his head and followed his daughter and Solo out the small cell.
++++
Down the hall, Illya and Gaby burst into the second cell to find Kirkoff bruised and badly beaten. The German scientist looked up and grimaced at his intruders. “You again,” he spat recognizing Gaby.
“Shut up,” Illya commanded tightly.
“We’re going to get you out of here,” Gaby said, stepping forward. “Illya.”
The spy moved to the other side of Kirkoff. Instead of helping Gaby hoist him to his feet, he trained his gun at the other man’s head and pulled back the safety. “Give me the code,” he commanded in his steely Russian accent.
Kirkoff lifted his head and grinned through bloodstained teeth. “Not on your life. You get me out of here and then I’ll give you the code.”
“Have you given it to the Cubans?” Illya prodded.
“If I did, do you think I’d still be alive?”
“Come on, we don’t have time for this,” Gaby said helping Kirkoff to his feet.
Illya flexed his jaw, suppressing his agitation. Gaby was right, they had to move. As much as he would have enjoyed getting the code from him, they only had a limited amount of time to get out of that house. Illya gave Kirkoff a light shove out the door and followed him into the hallway.
“Good. Everyone is accounted for,” Solo said once everyone was within sight. “This way.” He led them back through the dank hall and up the stairs again. Solo lifted a finger to his lips and stuck his head outside of the door. The hallway was empty, giving it an eerie feeling. “All clear. Let’s go,” he said briskly.
The group moved down the hall in tandem. Solo led the way with his gun handy. Natalia reached beneath her skirt and pulled out the Smith and Wesson she carried with her back when they were in Rome. Solo hoped they wouldn’t have to use their guns at all. The mansion was crawling with military. They were outmanned and outgunned. The closer they got to the end of the hall he could hear the sound of confusion.
“There’s got to be another way out of here,” Gaby said, peaking around the corner. “We’re not getting through that,” she said eying one of the military guards.
Solo tried to picture the plans to the mansion in his head. “Natalia,” he said turning toward her. “In the plans, I remember a side door that goes in and out of the kitchen. Do you recall seeing it at all?
Natalia paused a moment to think. “Yes. That’s where the deliveries are made. I can take you to the kitchen. But we’ll have to figure out a way to get past that,” she said nodding her head.
Solo peered down the hall. They had to get by a crowd of people undetected with two half-starved prisoners and a pretend Russian diplomat. He could do it. Solo had faced bigger challenges in the past. “The women will go first. Then you and Kirkoff, Peril. Try to keep him on the inside and move fast. Then I’ll follow with Povlovsky.”
“I’ll take my father,” Natalia protested.
“No. Too dangerous. I need you and Gaby to go first. This is not up for debate, Natalia.”
Natalia conceded with an eye roll. “Fine.”
The air was thick with tension as they made their way to the other side of the hall. Solo could hear his heart beating in his ears as Natalia and Gaby stepped out of the shadows and crossed the hall. He held his breath until they were safely on the other side beckoning Illya to follow with Kirkoff. Beside him, Sergei muttered a few prayers in Russian and watched the two men crossover. When it was their turn, Solo gave Sergei a slight nod of his head and moved forward. The crowd was so wound up that none of the guards noticed them when they walked by. Once they were across the hall, Solo jogged ahead of the group with Natalia beside him. They followed the path to the kitchen together. Illya shoved Kirkoff forward again when the man began to slow down.
“Through there,” Natalia instructed, pointing toward a door.
They were almost there. Solo could taste freedom. Illya moved ahead of him, volunteering to check if everything was clear. He peered out the door and gave a slight nod. The back of the mansion was surprisingly quiet as they filed outside together. “They must have moved them to the other side of the house,” Solo whispered. “Let’s go.”
They moved briskly over the manicured lawn and ran toward the gate in the back. Solo’s stride slowed when he noticed the guards lining their exit as if they were waiting for them. He gripped the gun in his hand.
“Dammit,” Gaby muttered.
Solo’s jaw tightened as he tried to think of a plan. He counted three guards and a truck. Off to the left was a small building made of brick. “Hide behind that,” he instructed. “I’ll give you a signal and then you run.”
“Solo, wait,” Natalia said, grabbing his upper arm. “You don’t have to do this.”
Solo looked down at the hand wrapped around his jacket. “Yes, I do,” he said before taking off.
Napoleon straightened the green military jacket he wore and stepped out of the shadows. As soon as he was visible the men all saluted him. Luck was on their side again. He outranked all of them. Solo eyed one of the nearby trucks. “I need a transport,” he spoke confidently in Spanish.
“No one leaves the house, sir,” one of the officers spoke up. “I’m sorry. Orders.”
“I have a dignitary here from Russia. Our priority is to get him to safety. If your commanding officer hears about this…”
The men gripped their guns tighter. The officer who spoke earlier eyed Solo skeptically. He read the name on his uniform and looked at Napoleon’s face again before whispering something to the other two men. While he spoke, he kept his eyes trained on Solo.
“Sir, there was an explosion outside of the building and in the center of town. We cannot let anyone leave this place.”
“Well, you’re going to let me leave or I’ll make sure you’re all court-martialed for disobeying a direct order from your superior.” The men went silent as they debated what to do next. The leader of the group nodded his head reluctantly and stepped aside.
“Good. I’m glad you came to your senses. But I’m still going to have to report your insubordination,” Solo continued in Spanish. “Now, I want you all to stand over there. Turn around and keep your back turned to me. Do not turn around no matter what.”
“Yes, sir!” they shouted and took their positions.
Solo lifted his arm and beckoned the others to join him. He kept his eyes on the soldiers to make sure they didn’t turn around as his team moved toward the truck. Natalia helped her father in the jeep beside her, followed by Gaby, Kirkoff, and Illya. Solo waited until they were all secured in the vehicle before climbing into the driver’s side. He felt around for the key and realized it wasn’t there.
“Private Diaz,” he said calling over one of the soldiers. “Where are the keys to this vehicle?”
“I have them, sir,” the officer said, walking over to the truck. Diaz patted himself down for the key.
Solo watched him carefully and kept his hand wrapped around his gun. He placed his finger on the trigger and held his breath. A few seconds later, the soldier handed Solo the key. He could feel the tension in the car ebb the moment it fell into his palm. “Soldier,” he said and turned the key in the ignition. Solo started the truck and gently lifted his foot off the break. The jeep rolled forward slowly. As they drove by, the soldier peered inside spotting Povlovsky and Kirkoff.
“Wait! Stop!” he yelled out.
Solo slammed his foot down on the gas and took off. The jeep skidded across the gravel as he drove frantically down the road, trying to avoid the rough terrain. Behind them, the soldiers piled into another car and took chase. Illya pulled himself up and shot at the soldiers from the backseat of the jeep. Bullets sparked against metal, lighting up the night sky. Solo kept his head low as enemy fire whizzed past him.
“Everyone stay down!” he shouted.
Natalia held her father close to her and tried to shield his body against any stray bullets.
“Give me your gun!” Gaby yelled at Natalia. Over the last few months, Gaby had become quite skilled with them. The Russian handed her pistol over to Gaby and the younger spy began firing off shots along with Illya. Solo took a shoulder sharply as they sped down the side of the cliff. Illya tilted to the side nearly losing his balance but continued to shoot at the car behind them. The soldiers were moving in closer. Solo floored the jeep but couldn’t make it go any faster. A cloud of dust puffed up behind them obscuring Illya and Gaby’s view. A bullet grazed Gaby’s arm causing her to cry out in shock. Illya lowered himself down beside her.
“Keep shooting!” she said to Illya. “It’s nothing. I’ll be alright.” She turned her body so she could see Solo. “Go left!” Gaby yelled from the back seat as bullets continued to whiz over their heads.
“We’ll go flying off the side of this road!” Solo called back.
“Trust me!”
Solo looked at her through the rearview mirror. She stared back at him with determination in her eyes. Solo gave her a slight nod of his head. She was the driver. He knew he could trust her. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and pulled the car sharply to the left. The vehicle fishtailed wildly for a few moments before he was able to regain control of it. Behind them, the soldiers tried to do the same. Their truck fished tailed hard to the right sending them over the cliff and down into the jagged ocean rocks below. Solo looked through the rearview mirror and gave Gaby a slight smile. She did well, but they weren’t out of the woods yet. They needed to find a way to get off the island. Solo trained his eyes back on the road while Illya carefully tended to Gaby’s wound.
“Well, that takes care of those guys,” Natalia said from the backseat. “But how the hell are we going to get off this island?” she asked reading his mind.
“By boat,” Povlovsky said. “There are docks nearby.”
“Good idea, if we can find one big enough and fast enough to hold us all,” Natalia said.
Sergei shook his head and pointed to Kirkoff. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”
Solo slowed the vehicle so he could get a better look at their prisoner. His glassy eyes were wide open, staring unseeingly into the distance. Everyone turned their gaze toward Kirkoff. The bullet that grazed Gaby’s arm had met another target, piercing Kirkoff center mass, killing him.
“Damn,” Solo muttered. They got Kirkoff- or his body rather, but they hadn’t managed to get the code from him.
“He didn’t tell them,” Illya said.
“How do you know?” Solo asked, bringing the car to a stop.
“We asked him. If he had given them the code, he would be dead by now,” Gaby interjected.
That was a fair point. Kirkoff was badly beaten, but he stood his ground. Solo supposed money was more important to him than his life. Without the code, the bomb the Cubans intended to build was nothing but a shell. Or it could take years for them to crack it. By then he was sure someone else hellbent on destruction would design something bigger and deadlier. Isn’t that how the world worked anyway? Hopefully, he’d fulfill his sentence by then.
“Alright,” he said putting the car back into drive. “We’ll leave the body. Find a boat and hopefully get a signal out to Waverly.”
Illya peeled off his jacket and placed it over Kirkoff’s face. The car was silent as Solo drove the last few miles to a boating dock. When they arrived the lights were out, casting everything into deep shadows. Solo parked the car off to the side of the road where the bushes were thick and overgrown. He climbed out of the jeep first, leading the way. They were looking for a boat that would get them out of there as quickly and silently as possible.
“This one,” Illya said heading toward a Starcraft docked close by.
Solo shook his head and motioned for the team to keep moving. “No. That boat isn’t fast enough.”
“It has good mileage,” Illya argued.
“But what good is mileage if we’re going at a snail’s pace?” Solo groused.
“If I drive, we won’t go at snail’s pace.”
“First off, you don’t drive a boat. You pilot it,” Solo corrected the Soviet Spy.
“Oh, will you two just!” Gaby and Natalia and exclaimed at the same time.
“We’ll take that boat there,” Solo nodded toward a Glastron.
Illya shook his head. “Fine,” he conceded. “If you want low mileage.”
Solo rolled his eyes. He was no expert on boats, but he was pretty sure the Glastron would get the job done. They needed to get off that island as quickly as possible. Solo climbed in first with Natalia’s father close behind him. He assisted the frail man into the boat before turning to help Natalia and Gaby. Illya got in last and began unhitching the boat from the dock. Solo placed his hand under the lip of the dashboard and felt around for the key. Sometimes boat owners kept spares somewhere on the boat. After a few minutes of searching, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a penlight.
“What is hold up?” Illya whispered from the aft of the boat.
“No key.”
“I told you we should have taken the other one,” Illya snarked.
Solo continued to feel around with the light as his guide. He stuck his head beneath the wheel and searched the floor of the boat. A small bump protruded from beneath the plastic mat. The spy carefully peeled it up to expose the key.
“And I told you we’ve got the right boat,” Solo replied showing them all the key. He put it into the ignition and turned it. The boat came to life instantly. Relief flooded the team as Solo navigated it away from the dock toward the open waters.
“Are you alright, papa?” Natalia asked her father. She looked around the small boat for a blanket and placed it around his shoulders. The old man nodded and rested his head on her shoulder wearily.
Solo nodded his head toward her. He was glad they were able to rescue Natalia’s father successfully. He thought about Kirkoff’s body in the back of the jeep. Waverly wanted them to bring him in alive, but sometimes things didn’t always go to plan. The most important thing was they all made it out alive. He’d call the mission a success.
++++
Illya sat down beside Gaby. He discarded his disguise as soon as they were safely on the boat and went to find her a first aid kit. “Show me your arm,” he said to her. Gaby peeled back her fingers to reveal the surface wound. Illya stared at the red exposed flesh before his eyes met hers again. When he realized the bullet had hit her, for a few short moments all his worst fears had come to the surface. He imagined her body lying in the back of the jeep. Illya didn’t fear much, but the thought of losing Gaby made him terribly afraid.
“It’s just a scratch,” Gaby said hoarsely.
It was more than scratch, but it wouldn’t require any stitches. If the wound healed correctly, there would only be a faint scar. Illya liked the brave front she was putting on for him. He’d seen the fear in eyes when it happened. Illya began to dress her wound. He cleaned it with alcohol making her flinch beneath his touch. Gaby gritted her teeth and continued to stare at the dark waters that surrounded them.
“It’s done,” he said. His tone was gentle.
Gaby looked down at her fresh bandages. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Illya nodded his head. “You were strong. I like my woman strong.” His words echoed back to their first mission in Italy.
“Except, I’m not your woman,” Gaby said looking him in the eye. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
Illya was silent for a moment as he studied the pinched expression on her face. She was right. He didn’t have to pretend anymore. “I won’t,” he said firmly.
Illya placed his hands at Gaby’s waist and gathered her close. Her lips parted into a slight ‘oh’ of surprise. Without further hesitation, Illya covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. She responded immediately, melting into his arms. Illya’s hands gently caressed her back as he deepened the kiss. Her lips were soft and pliant. Gaby threaded her hands through his hair and pressed herself against him. After a few moments, they pulled away for some air. He studied the dreamy expression on Gaby’s face and dipped his head for another kiss. His lips were about to touch hers again when Solo’s voice broke through the hazy fog in his brain.
“I see you two have finally gotten to it,” Napoleon said from the front of the boat.
“What? Got to what? What did I miss?” Natalia asked groggily beside her father.
“Peril finally stopped beating around the bush and made his move. I could hear the smacking all the way up here.”
“Oh. It’s about time,” Natalia said and closed her eyes again. “Congratulations.”
Illya looked between Natalia and Solo. He started to respond to his partner’s glib comments when the boat suddenly came to halting stop in the middle of the ocean. The engine spurted then went silent. Solo turned around and began fiddling with controls. They were out of gas.
“I told you,” Illya said.
Solo pressed his lips together and began tapping on the boat’s display panel. The engine was completely dead. They were stranded.
“What’s going on now?” Natalia said, sitting up again.
“Cowboy picked wrong boat,” Illya explained. “We are stranded in middle of ocean.”
“Now, we don’t know that. It might need a jump,” Solo said in his defense.
“Right, and who’s going to give it to us?” Gaby asked.
“Good thing I put tracker in all our shoes.” Illya’s voice brimmed with pride.
“Hopefully it’ll have a good signal this far out at sea,” Solo said.
“It does. Russian Tracker always has good signal.”
Solo rolled his eyes and sat down beside Natalia and her father. Illya was glad he had the foresight to put trackers on all of them just in case. He was starting to learn after months of working with Solo, a fail-safe was always a necessary precaution.
“What do we do now?” Gaby asked Illya as he settled down beside her.
“We wait.”
Gaby looked up at Illya with a soft sparkle in her eyes. Even though their moment was ruined by Cowboy, he didn’t regret kissing her. He only wished for better timing. Next time, Illya thought to himself. He settled down beside Gaby again at the back of the boat. “Are you cold?” he asked when he saw her shiver.
“Yes. Now come and keep your woman warm.” she said, and to his surprise, she took his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder before resting her cheek against his chest. Illya smiled in the darkness. He hoped Waverly wasn’t in too much of a hurry to rescue them.
