MFUfic Round Robin 2 - Part 8
 
 

Deciding the time for action was now, before they landed and transfered to another plane, or anything worse, Illya flexed his muscles to get his blood moving again. They had already changed plane once, and this plane was a small one, barely capable of carrying four people, let alone being comfortable. In a way, Illya supposed, it was a blessing and a curse. Roland would pobably not have been killed if it where a  passenger flight, but then again, this was a plane he had some chance of flying.

Mentally, Illya revieuwed what he knew of this type of aircraft and of his female adversary. She was undoubtably one of the more lethal Thrush agents  he'd come across this year. She was also flying him to Kiev, where her and Roland's "masters" now awaited him. Kuryakin had no doubt he would be in for an uncomfortable meeting. On the other hand, the plane was small,  with  a fixed undercarriage. He knew the theory of landing such a beast, at least. Illya decided he'd spent enough time deliberating and moved stealthily forward. He stood behind the pilot's chair and waited untill his as yet unnamed companion thumbed off the radio she'd been talking to, noticing they had a half tank of kerosine, and that there was an "autopilot" option.

Grimly he reached forward and with a practised manouvre snapped her neck. As always, the snap of bones against bones made him grimace, but he hurriedly punched the "autopilot" button as he started to undo the harnass. Strapping himself in, he orientated himself with the map on the co-pilot's chair and a glance out of the window, and set towards Moskou instead.

"Would you like some coffee, Sir?"

Napoleon looked up to see a charming young stewardess with a coffee pot. Wordlessly he handed her his cup and when he recieved it back, he smiled at her but did not attempt to flirt. His mind was occupied with other thoughts, for when he'd left the office, he had found April and Mark waiting for him. Mark had ushered him into their car and sped off towards his appartment,  while April gave him what she had dubbed as "emergency rations" had told him how she had thought it great that he and Illya where finally 'out'.

Knowing the car could be (but it was very unlikely) bugged, and unwilling to give up the charade as he actually was starting to enjoy the idea, he peeked in the package. "Emergency rations" apparently consisted of chocolate (emergency food, he was told), a water based lubricant he didn't  recognise and a pack of condoms. At April's grin and wink, he packed them           away again and winked back.

As Napoleon's thoughts went around in circles from the office to packing to the airport to Illya, he nodded off. The stewardess with the coffee pot grinned and when she reached the head, she mentioned that he had fallen asleep to one of the stewards.

              


  Kuryakin, wasn't having much fun in the winds that where picking up over  the snowy land. Then, without warning the engine on the right side sputtered and failed, shortly followed by the left one. Never one to panic, Illya tried to locate a parachute, only to find there was none. He tapped the glass with the gas indicator, only to find it had been stuck! He glided     down as best he could, ignoring the radio's mutterings and when he saw an empty field, he took his chance. Pointing the nose down gently, he glided the plane in as best he could. At the last moment, a sidewind swept into the plane, causing it to buckle, Wrenching the yoke around, Illya fought the plane and wind for control, but the lumps in the ground made it              impossible and the plane flipped sideways.

A few minutes or hours later, Illya couldn't tell, he woke up. His entire  body was sore, screaming in pain and he was hanging upside down. Deciding that was the first order of business, he tried to unbuckle the harnass but  fighting gravity as well, ther was no give. He ended up slicing it open with a shard from the dashboard glass. As he fell down, he grunted when he  felt various other aches and pains make themselves known, and automatically  reached for his communicator, only to find he had left it at home. Really  wishing his partner was there now, to make fun of his flying, Illya stumbled outside into the blizzard. He had barely gotten fifteen paces before spots started dancing in front of his eyes. He hadn't gotten 20            before he collapsed face first in the cold. As his senses shut down on him, he thought he recognised a voice in the distance.

             


 
"What do you mean, missing?" Waverly asked Jeannette Wall, in charge of communications.

 "Exactly what I mean, missing. According to the Moskou Air Trafic Control Kuryakin's plane was supposed to land at Kiev. It didn't. They tried hailing her, and nobody responded. They went into the uncertainty phase ten minutes after they failed to land on time and could not be raised. A half hour later, they tried to organise a Search and Rescue operation, but the            weather is apparently hindering them. There are several blizzards in the area of Kiev.  It is standard procedure to wait untill they have blown out" she reported crisply.

"What about radar?" Waverly prompted, not yet satisfied even though he knew standard procedures for aircraft as well.

"They where flying under radar or outside a TMA and outside the radar's  reach Sir " Jeannette reminded him.

"Very well, keep a track of the emergency frequencies and keep me informed."

              

Napoleon awoke to the feeling that his head was pounding. He recognised the feeling of being drugged all too well, so played possum hoping to learn something, but apparently his captor was not fooled. Bloodred nails lifted his chin, and he saw no advantage in faking sleep so he opened his eyes to the sights of what seemed to be a well-equipted dungeon including whips, chains and manacles and Angelique.

It was all he could do to keep from groaning aloud.
Next??...Next?? To part 9