Illya and Gaby - The Frenchman (The Man From U.N.C.L.E)

Chapter 10 - Dark Water

Chapter 10

Illya struggled against Napoleon's grip for a long moment, until the American jerked him back, pulling him out of his panic.

Napoleon laid his heavy hands on Illya's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "We will get her back, man. We will."

With a deep, shuddering breath, Illya nodded his agreement, sharply. He wasn't sure he really believed it, but he wanted to. God, how he wanted to. He looked back at the wake of the ship, sending ripples out across the bay.

They ran along the docks, half crouched and avoiding lights as much as possible, looking for a quick boat that could catch up with the rapidly disappearing barge. Solo leapt upon a small skiff, hissing through his teeth as he ran his fingers over the wheel.

"Mmmmm. Kuryakin, I think we've found our ride."

"This one."

Solo turned to see Illya standing behind the wheel of a sleek little raceboat, painted a deep navy blue. Solo raced across the dock and slid into the leather seat beside Illya.

"Let's go get our girl back."

The water was cold, thanks to the chilly nights, and Illya couldn't help shuddering in the fine spray the boat kicked up. The back of the barge grew slowly but steadily closer as their little boat zipped across the water. Solo peered at the back of the ship through his little spyglass, which he'd started keeping in his pockets at all times lately.

Two guards stood at the back of the boat. They held guns, but seemed less than concerned about being attacked, as neither stood at attention, and looked to be chatting absently with each other.

"Low security, from the back anyway." Solo called back, and Illya nodded sharply in response.

When they came within 200 yards of the ship, just out of earshot, Illya gave them a burst of speed and cut the engines, letting the boat slip toward the barge silently. He and Solo prepared themselves, loading guns, checking weapons as they sped across the dark water.

Illya reached out and stopped them just before the boat clanked against the side of the ship while Solo stepped up and jumped to grab the small ladder welded into the metal. He dragged himself up, with Illya close behind, until he reached the top. Solo peered over the rail, watching the two so-called guards talk amongst each other. He nodded to Illya, and they climbed smoothly over the edge and krept along the dark spaces at the base of the wall.

In unison, the two took out their targets in a swift, familiar series of movement that ended seconds later with both guards unconscious in a shadow. Unfortunately, as they made their way up a flight of stairs, voices began to drift down from above.

Illya peered up over the edge of the upper deck, and his hand clenched at his side. Napoleon glanced at his trembling fist and rose to peek over the edge too. Gaby sat in the middle of the deck, tied to a chair with thick ropes. Dread flooded through Solo and he sank down below the edge.

Illya's fist shook, and he took a shaky breath.

"Kuryakin?" Napoleon hissed. "Illya!"

But Illya couldn't hear him now.

***

Sorry for the crazy delays, I think I'll have it tied off in the next couple months though! It's been a weird few years y'all.