Quickly Napoleon closed the door behind them, and slid a garbage can in
front of it.  Not that it would slow anybody down for long, but at least it
would give them a warning if or rather *when* their attackers followed them.
That done, he and Illya used the parked cars as cover to get several meters
away from the door.

"It would appear that my obituary was not suitably...convincing," said Illya
dryly, as they crouched behind a Cadillac.

"Well those guys certainly weren't there to pay their respects."  Napoleon
took a closer look at Illya, concerned to see how pale the younger man was.
But then, after what Illya had been through in the last 24 hours, that was
hardly surprising.  Napoleon felt a twinge of guilt over what had happened
between them last night.  He should have waited until the crisis had
passed...until Illya was fully recovered from the crash.  Now his friend's
life could be in danger because Napoleon wasn't able to keep it in his
pants.  He had been told before that his sexual appetites would be the death
of him, but Napoleon knew he would never forgive himself if they turned out
to be the death of Illya.  "I'm sorry," he said almost to himself, even as
he scanned the garage for any signs of the intruders or their accomplices.

"So you should be," said Illya.  "I did not have nearly enough breakfast.
Next time you will require more food."  Assuming that you want there to be a
next time, he added silently, hoping that the answer would be in the
affirmative.

Napoleon couldn't stop a smile from appearing on his face.  "I'll bear that
in mind...for next time," he said, squeezing Illya warmly on the shoulder.

Illya caught Napoleon's hand in his and held it there for a few seconds.
But a few seconds was all they could spare.  "We should move," he said,
reluctantly.  "I trust that as an experienced agent you have an escape route
already planned out?"

"Well now that you mention it.  Do you see that ventilation grille over
there?"  Napoleon pointed towards the sidewall.  "Well if we can get to it,
the air duct behind it has a passageway that just happens to lead into the
sewers.  It's not on any plans of the building...not any more at least, so
with a bit of luck, THRUSH, or whoever those nasty guys upstairs were, won't
know anything about it.  Or at least that's what the security guys at
U.N.C.L.E. told me when I moved in."  He started to move off, only to be
stopped by Illya's hand on his arm.  "What?"

"And what if the same person who knew I was going to be on that road
yesterday also knows about your escape route?"

Napoleon bit his lip, "I don't think we have any choice...and at least if we
take the fight into the sewers, there's less chance of any innocent people
showing up and getting hurt in the crossfire.  Do you agree?"

Illya nodded, "We could be walking into a trap...but it's not like we have
much of a choice.  Lead the way my friend, where you go, I will follow you."
Always and forever, he added silently.

---

This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.