Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin
Word Count: 492
Notes: A plot bunny jumped out at me, somewhat stealing from a movie (see if you can guess which one *g*).
Original Publication Date: 27 March 2009
Somewhere in California
The dark blue sedan sped along the twisty canyon road barely keeping traction. Machine gun fire rained down mere feet behind the car as a THRUSH helicopter tracked its prey below.
Inside the car were two very unpopular U.N.C.L.E. agents. Having recently escaped and subsequently blown the satrap in which they were being held sky high, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin were not home free yet.
First, they liberated the nearest vehicle to emerge unscathed from a well-executed Kuryakin-powered fireball. The next problem was making it along the narrow Tujunga Canyon Road evading whatever THRUSH had left to send after them.
Unfortunately for the fleeing agents, their pursuit took the form of a new prototype helicopter gunship, complete with a full load of air-to-ground missiles and a chain gun.
The whirring of the rotor blades mixed with the harsh metallic noise of bullets being discharged at an alarming rate.
Illya rolled down the window and leaned out clutching a machine gun. Before he could aim at the gunship, there was a massive whoosh as a missile overshot its mark and blew a hole in the road just ahead of the car. Napoleon wrenched the wheel to avoid the new pothole but there wasnt enough time. Illya was flung across the car as tires screeched, left became right and up became down.
There was a horrendous grinding noise of metal as the car rolled over and over, finally halting at the edge of the canyon. The passenger door hung open causing the car to rock slowly, teetering precariously on the edge. The gunship pilot decided his work was done and headed for the nearest intact THRUSH outpost.
A low groan from his partner alerted Napoleon that Illya was still alive. Solos vision cleared and he gasped aloud as the full situation dawned on him.
Nnnnghhhh Nap p-p-oleon?
Another low groan was echoed by a metallic creaking as the car teetered on the balance point.
Illya, do not move. Do you hear me? Do .not move!
Why? Whats the .oh.
The Russian agent was still fully inside the car but slumped over the dashboard. There was blood slowly trickling down his face, but following his realization he was fully conscious and no doubt adrenaline was doing its work keeping the pain away.
Facing the gaping door and the extremely long drop, he gulped and slowly leaned back. The sound of loose gravel tumbling into the abyss below him slowed his motion further. Napoleons breath hitched in his throat as he reached out towards his partner.
Napoleon wait! Youll unbalance it! He looked around assessing the situation. Solo could almost imagine the calculations going on inside the Russians head.
I need to think. Just stay still!
Napoleon snorted in amusement and his hand froze in a semi-outstretched position, hovering in mid air.
Im not going anywhere tovarisch. Take all the time you need.
There was a pause. Illya grinned at him.
Napoleon, I have a cunning plan.