I watched as he was ahead of me, his gun drawn, moving cautiously with that funny little elliptical walk of his. If I had only a view of feet moving in front of me, I could pick out Illya's among them in a heartbeat because of that distinctive walk of his.
Suddenly three shots rang out in succession and watched as he stopped in his tracks, crumpling to the ground in a heap.
My heart sank, but still hoping that he was alive as I ducked down to avoid the next barrage of gunfire coming in my direction. But the shooter gave away is position as I'd seen the muzzle flash from his gun and took careful aim at him.
He toppled forward, falling down a few feet away from me from his perch a top the wall.
I stood carefully, even though I was sure there was only one of them, heading immediately to my partner. He was alive, his pulse strong as I rolled him over to his back looking for his wound.
He'd been grazed on the temple and there was a through and through in his shoulder, to which I applied pressure with my handkerchief, hoping to slow the bleeding.
"Illya?" I whispered his name, then gave him a few gentle pats on his face.
Those baby blues fluttered open, but they seemed strange, out of focus.
"Hey buddy, can you get up?"
He cleared his throat. "Napoleon, I seem not to be able to see."
The calmness with which he spoke was surely masking an inner feeling of panic that I suspected he was experiencing at suddenly finding himself blind as a bat.
"Come on tovarisch, I'll help you."
He got up to his feet as we made our way back to headquarters where I saw him safely up to medical, then proceeded to make my report and deliver the microdot to the Old Man. But all the while my thoughts were on my friend, worrying if he'd lost his eyesight for good.
Illya was released home from medical a few days later and the Doctors seemed confident his sight would return once the swelling had gone down around the optic nerve.
Staying with him for a few days in his apartment was not problem as my own place was only up one floor. Even though he was stubbornly determined to be independent and manage on his own, he needed help with a few things as he was still lacking the use of one of his arm as well; realizing that, he finally surrendered to my presence
A week later he regained his eyesight, not telling me but rather choosing to show me by means of a demonstration; he removed his arm from the sling and suddenly started juggling three shot glasses in front of me.
The smile on his face was priceless.
I finally left him alone as he sat in his glory, reading one of those damn scientific journals, while downing a shot of vodka from one of the glasses. Though he was the one who was blind, I found that it was bothering me a lot, perhaps even more so than Illya as he had handled it with a quiet grace that truly amazed me.
Wandering along the streets, as usual being aware and cautious of my surroundings; I finally found myself at one of the entrances to Central Park. A bench beneath the tall green trees called to me and I simply sat there people watching, looking at the colors of the plants and the flowers...taking it all in and wondering how I would have felt if it had been me and not Illya who had been blind.
It was almost uncanny when a young man stopped beside my bench, opening up a guitar case, taking out the instrument and after a quick tuning began to sing.
"Amazing Grace how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind but now I see."
Some of the words just jumped out at me like a flashing neon sign.
"Though many danger, toils and snares we have already come. T''was grace that brought us safe thus far, and grace that leads us home."
Yes grace had saved a wretch like me and Illya too, many times over. We've been blind figuratively and literally now. And now we both see the world I think, through different eyes.