The Energy Shield AffairThis is a featured page

by Jkkitty

Napoleon Solo, UNCLE's Northwest CEA placed his hand on his partners shoulders. Illya Nichovetch Kuryakin, number two in Section 2. Illya had put the down agent's head in his lap while the paramedics were attempting to place her on a stretcher.

"Tovarisch, they need to get her to the hospital now."

Illya finally noticed his partner standing there, "What if she does not make it? How can I leave her go?"

"She's strong, a stubborn Russian like you. No mere bullet will do her in. Let them help her." Illya nodded and waved them to take her, "Hurry," he whispered as they placed her in the ambulance.

He then turned and walked toward the car.

"I have something to take care of," he told Napoleon, "and will be back later."

Napoleon slid into the passenger sit. "I'm coming with you."

"No, I am going to kill him. You do not want to be involved."

"Illya, you know how much I like your sister. I am coming."

They pulled up in front of the building where the shooter hid. Illya pulled his gun and headed in with Napoleon on his heels. April and Mark had the place surrounded with other UNCLE agents who watched as the two progressed. Although anger drove both men on, Illya blind fury prevented him from seeing the consequences of his actions. As they approached the room the shooter was in, Napoleon tried to reach Illya again.

"Illya, you could be deported and then it's the gulag or death. Jo wouldn't want this. I can't allow you to do this." Illya cold steel look pierced him, "Then do not enter with me."

Napoleon looked into his eyes, the fact that this man could be a dangerous enemy and quite lethal didn't escape his knowledge. Unwilling to be the one that had to testify against his friend, Napoleon stopped in the doorway and as a last effort questioned, "What will Jo do without you?"

Illya entered the room and saw the Thrush agent in front of him, "I surrender," the shooter spit out at him, "So you can't do anything to me."

Napoleon heard the shot and lowered his head. It was over, how he was going to save his friend now.

Then he felt a gun being placed into his hand, "You are right, she will need me now if she lives. But I promise you, if she does not survive I will finish what I began."

Napoleon glanced toward the room with a questioning look.

"He will not be running anywhere for a long time to come. Let's get back to the hospital, but keep my gun for a while will you? Just in case I change my mind," Illya answered the unasked question.

The partners walked past the other agents. The CEA looked from his partner to the gathered agents, "Pack him up gentlemen. Seems he has a leg wound," and continued walking.


Surgery

Illya and Napoleon arrived back at the hospital as the surgeon was ready to take Jo into surgery. Illya thought about her. Josephina Nichovia Kuryakin, one of Section 2 few female agents, his sister who he had just found a few years ago might not live through the night. He was not willing to lose her now.

When Napoleon asked her chances, the doctor only shook his head.

"I'm sorry. I can't make promises. If she survives the surgery, if there is no brain damage, if she regained conscience, only then will we will know her chances."

He placed his hand on Illya and Napoleon's shoulder, "I'll do my best for her."

The two men spent the day into the early evening waiting for news and thinking about all the ifs. Other agents stopped by to check in with them. Mark Slate and April Dancer had arrived carrying food, knowing neither man would leave even long enough to eat. Waverly even stopped by to check not only on his wounded agent, but his two agents who were waiting for news.

Finally the doctor emerged from the surgery suite. "She has survived the surgery. However, her brain will need time to heal. She will be kept in a chemically induced coma until the swelling and bruising decreases."

"I don't understand why that is necessary," Napoleon wanted, no needed, a reason for this delay in waking her up.

"Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, the brain is soft tissue encased in bone. To prevent it from injury, the tissue is surrounded by fluid which allows it to float without damage. However, when there is a shock to the brain, it hit the bones in a whiplash motion damaging both sides of the tissue. It then bruises the tissue, blood vessels get torn, and nerves injured."

Napoleon nodded his understanding to this point; Illya stared at the wall saying nothing.

"Good. Now the brain also is responsible for all the functions of the body. We need to allow the brain time to heal. It can only do it if we shut it down, and let it rest."

llya spoke for the first time since Jo went into surgery, "Will she be okay? Herself?"

"Sorry Illya, I can't answer that question until she wakes up. We can only hope. For the next few weeks, we will keep her in a coma, and then slowly let her come out of it. But you must remember that she may not come out immediately."

The two men looked at the doctor, "Thank you," Napoleon said, "Can we see her now?"

"Sure, but make it fast. She can't have any simulation, so I would prefer after seeing her if you go home and get some rest."

On the way home, Napoleon's communicator beeped. "Solo, here."

"Mr. Solo is Mr. Kuryakin with you?"

"Yes sir."

"Fine. I would like to see both of you in my office tomorrow afternoon at 1 pm. We have found an interest piece of information on our prisoner. The two of you will be checking it out."

"But sir."

"Mr. Solo I am sure the two of you would like to sit around the hospital and wait for Miss Kuryakin to wake up. However, I need this checked out, and the two of you need something to help you pass the time. Tomorrow at 1 gentlemen," and disconnected.

Napoleon was anger. "How can he do this?"

"Napoleon," Illya finally broke his silence, "He is right. Jo would not want us to do this. You and I would go crazy waiting for her to wake up. It makes the most sense."

There were times that Napoleon hated Illya practical approach to everything, but he was right.

"Okay, Tovarisch. First, however, we'll go to my apartment and get drunk."

Volka and Scotch were brought out. Glasses set before the two of them. They drank and talked about life—their lives.

"Illya do you ever regret the life we lead?"

"Napoleon, you know I was ordered to UNCLE. I did not have a choice. All my life, I have followed orders."

"Maybe I should ask if this life we lead has given you regrets?"

"Isn't that the same question?"

Taking another drink, "Okay. How about is there something that this job has prevented you from doing that you what you really want to do?"

After downing another vodka, "What is it you truly want to know Napoleon. I am too drunk to try to figure you out."

"Illya, are you okay with your sister and I being together." It was a question he had for a long time, but never had the nerve to ask.

"I am a romantic at heart you continuously tell me. What do you think?" "Your silence often leaves me guessing. So what do you have to say?" Illya asked Napoleon, "What are you intentions with my sister?"

"Excuse me, my friend. What do you mean?" swallowing the rest of his scotch.

As he poured them each another drink "Just what I asked. What are your intentions toward my sister? I hope you are not using her as filler for your empty nights. I do not want her hurt; she has experienced enough of that in her young life already. You may be my partner, but she is the only family I have left."

Napoleon thought it over before answering, "I know I love her, but we both are unwilling to change our position at UNCLE. I have eight years before retirement, Jo twelve. We have talked about it and have reached a decision. We'll not stop what we are doing but will be spending as much time together as we can."

"You know I said I will never let my sister marry an American," Illya reminded him before downing another drink.

Napoleon poured himself another scotch, "I am French Canadian, you know that don't you."

"You are American, Napoleon. French Canadian is your ancestry."

"Okay, but I do love her," Napoleon shrugged his shoulders and then wickedly smiled, "You want to flip for her."

By this time both men were extremely drunk and were laughing uncontrollably.

"I guess I was wrong about a few Americans. You do know in my country when a boy wants to date a girl he has to get permission from the head of her family to be allowed go out with her. That's me."

"You want me to ask your permission to see Jo?" Napoleon asked to have Illya spell out what he heard.

"It is the custom."

Napoleon stood, very unsteady, "Mr. Kuryakin, I ask for permission to go out with your sister," with a mock bow he slipped onto the couch.

"On one condition," Illya answered trying to focus on his partner, "You do not tell her that I said so. She would make both our lives unbearable."

Both men began laughing and agreed it probably be an excellent idea to keep this conversation from Jo. Finally unable to stay awake any longer, Illya retired to Napoleon's guest room unable to make it to his apartment. Napoleon fell across his bed fully clothed. Shouting woke Napoleon. He rushed, as well as he was able with the hangover he currently had, to his partner.


The Shooting

Napoleon was unsteady and accidentally fell over the coffee table, inadvertently coming into contact with his partner's arm. Illya slowly opened his eyes and instinct made him throw a punch at this attacker. His fist made contact with Napoleon's eye and he heard Solo yell out as he fell to the ground. Finally, he was able to see his partner through a hazed full vision.

"Sorry" he said, withholding a smile at seeing his partner lying on the floor.

"I was just reliving what happened today and what we might have done differently? I will be okay."

"Let's talk about it. I think we both need to get things straight in our minds," glancing at his friend, "I do know neither of us could have done anything to prevent this."

Illya, Jo, and Napoleon had the day off and decided to spend it sharing some of their favorite NY spots with each other. Illya had taken them to the New York Hall of Science which had been built in 1964 as a pavilion for the 1964-65 New York World's Fair and still served as a museum for student research. Illya found the simple inventions and hopes for the future interesting and often a resource for his own innovations. He had arranged with his friend to give them a tour of the site, and enjoyed explaining the discoveries within these walls. The small museum was a place he visited to get away from it all.

For lunch Jo took them to the Safehouse. It was a popular spy-theme restaurant and night spot that had open only a few years before. The outside sign on the building stated International Exports Ltd as part of the spy motif. A password was needed to enter and Jo had refused to divulge it to the other two. This meant they had to perform a 'secret mission' by doing the Monkey for 10 seconds. Although threating her, laughing they entered the site; they were met by hoots and whistles from the people who had watched them on the TV over the bar.***

Sitting in a section that was set up as an Asian restaurant, Napoleon had the Mediterranean Kiss & (don't) Tell, Illya the From Spy-lore & Legend, and Jo the Mata Hari's Asian Salad followed by a dessert called Diplomatic Immunity. After they ate, Mark and April joined them.

Napoleon led them to a Trolley to take them to his choice for the day. As they boarded the Trolley, a group of students followed them on. The five agents headed toward the back of the bus. Watching the students laugh and tease one another, each agent flashed back to their own childhood. Some good, some bad.

It wasn't till they felt the Trolley pull over and a man boarded that any of them saw something was wrong. A well-known minor Thrush agent, Clyce Strange, spotted them and pulled his gun and heading back out the door, "How did you know?" he shouted at them.

At the same moment Napoleon shouted, "Everyone down."

The agents headed down the aisle and out the door. Jo was first out, gun drawn. Clyce was waiting for them. He shot straight at her head. Only her last minute move prevented the bullet from lodging between her eyes. It hit her entering the far left side of her head just before her ear. Clyce turned and started running the opposite way.

Illya stopped to cover Jo. April and Mark took off after Clyce. Napoleon was torn. Did he follow the shooter or support his partner and lover.

"You two follow him and when he holds up, surround the area and call. I'm going to check on Jo."

When he arrived back at the spot Illya and Jo were located, he found his partner holding her in his lap. Anger poured out toward all around him. Tears filled his eyes; he was softly speaking to her of his hopes for their future. Someone had called for an ambulance which Napoleon could hear coming toward the scene. Napoleon laid his hand on Illya's shoulder,

"Tovarisch," he began. One look from his partner's eyes stopped any other conversation.

Go to Chapter 2


***Really Exist in Milwaukee, WI since 1966



jkkitty
jkkitty
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