Kick a Stone

Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin



Word Count:

Summary: Just a moment in a mission.

Table/Prompt: Inspired by Music Table Prompt: with violent anger, bitterly ~Carmina Burana and the LJ group Network_Command’s Seven Deadly Sins: Wrath


“You and your self righteous U.N.C.L.E. are going to come to an end…”

There was more but Napoleon tuned it out, the man had been going on like this for several minutes now, saying nothing substantial, just raving. Which was what Napoleon had determined he was, stark raving in fact, mad as any cliché he could think up. He worked at the bindings holding his hands hostage behind his back; he almost had the knot picked, if the THRUSH idiot du jour would just keep himself preoccupied a little bit longer. Unfortunately, the madman was preoccupied at the moment with trussing his partner up like a crown roast. When he was done doing that he promised no end of pain, though the unconscious Illya would not be aware of it to begin with. Napoleon wondered if THRUSH put something in the water of their various headquarters that made them all a little bit stupid. If he were a madman, he’d leave the unconscious one and wire up the awake one for torture. Of course, this mastermind of mayhem had good reason to want to take his ire out on Illya, it was Illya who had trashed his lab and was preparing to torch it when they were caught. Napoleon had managed to take out most of the guards while Illya finished setting the charges, but a well timed right hook had taken Napoleon down and when he managed to get back up it was to find Illya laying on the floor and the two remaining guards preparing a coup de grâce. He managed to stop them by getting himself captured and that was when the so called Doctor Vinchin arrived, ordering the guards to bring the prisoners to his workshop. He didn’t know if Illya had set a timer on the explosives or if they needed detonated. He didn’t know if Illya was going to wake up, he was bloody but breathing. He didn’t know where the two remaining guards disappeared to or when they would be returning. He did know that Vinchin was developing chemical weapons for THRUSH and that they had thought the lab empty when they came in to eradicate it. Vinchin wasn’t even supposed to be in the country; he was supposedly in Marseilles where another team of U.N.C.L.E. agents had been dispatched to take him out. The knot finally came loose and Napoleon waited for his moment.

Illya came to and knew immediately that the affair had gone pear-shaped. Medical might use four point restraints but they didn’t wrap wires of any kind around every limb and stick electrodes to a dozen different points of bare skin. They also rarely frothed at the mouth and spat invectives, that was his job when he’d been poked and prodded enough for one post-mission exam. Well, maybe not the frothing part. He wondered what had happened to his partner, all he could see from his limited vantage point was the white coat of the man slapping sticky pads to his bare chest and arms and temples. The man didn’t even seem to realize he’d awakened, so he closed his eyes again and concentrated on appearing harmlessly unaware. He tested the straps holding him to the table. They felt a little loose, like they weren’t attached very carefully to the table, that might work in his favour. If this lunatic would just turn around, he could try to pull the straps off, or perhaps even overturn the table and slip the bonds. He watched the red-faced man through slitted eyes, waiting.

“Once I have demonstrated my newest creation on your partner, I will wire you up and you will tell me every bit of information I want and then I will dispose of you just like I am going to do to your friend here, and U.N.C.L.E. will think twice about destroying my work…”

Finally! The man turned away from Illya and had his back to Napoleon. Two things happened at once, Napoleon threw the rope that had been binding his hands and looped it around the doctor to draw him close enough to choke and Illya exploded off the table, or tried to, succeeding in throwing the table he was strapped to away from them and dragging all kinds of wires out of the machinery to which they were attached. Napoleon dragged the doctor to him and got his hands then arms around his neck. A lift and twist later and the doctor was on the floor at his feet and he was getting the bonds off his ankles while Illya had gotten one arm free and was trying to push the overturned table off his back.

Napoleon lifted the table enough to unbuckle the straps while Illya pulled wired pads off his skin.

“There are at least two guards in the building. Please tell me you didn’t put the charges on a timer, or if you did that we have enough time to get out. I would rather die in bed, you know.”

“I am fully aware of where you like to die a little, I have the remote in my pocket.”

Napoleon just gave his partner a pained look. “They didn’t even take our communicators. Not very smart, this flock.”

“Or entirely too sure of themselves.”

“Let’s not count the teeth on the gift horse and just get the hell out of here.”

“And send them there while we’re at it.”

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