| Listening to the
bells ringing in the church outside, Napoleon Solo took
a deep breath and once again took a long look around his
cell. It reminded him of a stone hut he'd once holed up in during the aftermath of a disastrous raid on a THRUSH base in Latvia. Stone walls, dark stone fireplace, heavy wooden door - locked and bolted from the outside, of course. There was a dirty window big enough to get his hand through if he thought it would do any good. What a way to spend Christmas Eve. He'd had plans. A log fire, the largest turkey money could buy, fruit pudding drenched in brandy, a couple of bottles of expensive wine and a long afternoon in front of the television with a generous glass of port watching whatever ancient film was playing. So they weren't great plans. They didn't involve family. He didn't have any to speak of. None that he'd endanger by letting his enemies know of their existence at any rate. But the thoughts of warmth, food and alcohol on this one special day of the year had sustained him through plenty over the last couple of months. It wasn't to be. In an hour's time it would be Christmas Day and he doubted Santa would be climbing down this particular chimney. ~ At the eleventh chime, Illya Kuryakin signalled twice to the four men on his right. One of them nodded and led the other three forward, scooting around the bushes and out of sight. Illya turned to his left and gave a similar signal. Five more men moved out. For a minute or so he listened to the vague sounds in the undergrowth and watched his breath on the chilled air. 'Of all the places in all the world....' He shook the thought from his head with a wry smile. This wasn't any place to spend Christmas. Napoleon had had plans, he knew. Back at the hotel he'd checked into there was a log fire burning in an empty room. Tomorrow at lunchtime the restaurant would serve the biggest turkey he'd ever seen, with all the trimmings. The wine was cooling and the port was settling. All Illya had to do now was make sure his partner was there to enjoy it. ~ Napoleon started at the muffled sounds all around him. His heart leapt as he recognised the prelude to a rescue and he stood, his back hard against the wall next to the door, giving enough room for it to swing open. Despite being ready for it, he jumped in surprise when a plume of black dust followed a thud in the fireplace. His soot-covered partner got to his feet, grinned at Solo and then hurled himself against the far wall seconds before the chimney place and the stonework around it collapsed in a pile of rubble. Napoleon looked at him gratefully. "Nice." Illya smiled at the compliment. "As always." With a wave of his hand he indicated the dark, cold night beyond the settling cloud of mortar. "Your sleigh awaits." ~ The port was the best he'd ever tasted. Napoleon sipped from the delicate crystal glass, staring, hypnotised by the dancing flames in the grate. Outside it was still dark. Still time for Santa to come down his chimney. Glancing to his left, his eyes lingering on his freshly-showered partner asleep in the next chair, Solo thought perhaps he already had. |