New story! All I can say about this one is: poor Illya. I hope you like it, let me know what you think :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters

"What time did Solo say he would be back?", Gaby asked. She was trying to keep her tone casual but Illya could sense that she was getting nervous.

They were taking some downtime in their hotel room after a particularly tricky mission in London. As usual, Napoleon had decided to spend the evening out to celebrate.

"He didn't say.", Illya replied. "Why are you worrying about him? Cowboy can take care of himself."

"I know, it's just that it's getting late and he said he wouldn't be out too long…"

"You're always acting like you're his mother.", Illya said, amused. "Besides, you don't need to worry, I know exactly where Cowboy is."

"You do?"

Illya nodded.

"You want me to show you?", he said, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

He went to his room and came back holding his tracking device.

"You put a tracker in his shoe again?", Gaby sighed, looking at the dot on the screen. "You two are like children.", she said, shaking her head.

Illya's smile grew wider. With his ruffled hair and the grin on his face, he looked like a little boy who had pulled a good prank. Gaby couldn't help but smile.

"See, Cowboy's heading back, he'll be here in five minutes."

10 minutes later

"Shouldn't that dot be moving? You said that Solo would be here soon, it's been more than five minutes already."

Illya looked at the unmoving dot and frowned.

"According to this he is right outside the hotel. Maybe he's too drunk and can't figure out how to get in.", the thought made him chuckle.

"Or maybe he found your tracker and got rid of it outside and he's heading up right now."

"Hmm, doubtful…"

They waited in silence for a while.

"Maybe we should go check if he's okay…", Gaby finally said.

Illya looked at her and saw the worry in her eyes.

"Okay, I will go get him. But don't count on me to take care of him if he's drunk and starts throwing up everywhere.", he answered, as he got up and headed towards the door.

On the way down the stairs Illya realized that he had forgotten to take his jacket. Hopefully he wouldn't need it. As soon as he stepped out he felt the chilly night air, it was raining too. He cursed as he scanned the area in front of the hotel. Solo wasn't there. He cursed again. Where was the stupid American? Then he heard what sounded like a scuffle. The noise was coming from a narrow street just around the corner. Illya noticed a black truck parked in the shadows near the street, the back was open. Warning bells started to ring in his head, he couldn't shake the impression that something was wrong. As he got closer he could make out Solo's voice. He turned the corner and spotted his partner. He was not alone, four men, all dressed in black, surrounded him. One man had his arms hooked under Napoleon's armpits and was immobilizing him. Another man was punching him in the stomach. Illya saw Napoleon double over and the man who was holding him pushed him to the ground. He cursed for the third time and charged at the nearest man.

Napoleon was facedown on the ground, gasping, still trying to recover from the blow he had taken to the stomach when he heard something that sounded like a roar. He turned his head and spotted the familiar silhouette of his partner.

Excellent timing, Peril.

Thanks to the element of surprise and to his colossal strength, Illya had already taken down two of the men and was fighting the one who had punched Napoleon. The fourth man, who had pushed Solo to the ground had managed to slip some handcuffs around his wrists and was using his weight to prevent him from getting up.

Unbeknownst to Napoleon and Illya, two other men had gotten out of the truck and were observing the fight.

"This one is Kuryakin, KGB agent. He's one of Solo's partners.", one of the men commented.

The man next to him took out a gun and aimed it at Illya's back.

"He's remarkably strong. I'll kill him before he completely wipes out our team."

"Wait. He's Solo's partner and he came to rescue him. So it's reasonable to assume that they care about each other. We could take him too. Use him as leverage, to make sure Solo cooperates… Shoot him but don't kill him."

The other man was playing with his gun, spinning it around his finger.

"Anywhere you want me to shoot him in particular?"

"No, just try to make it non-fatal. Our good doctor will patch him up."

" 'Try'? You're insulting me.", the gunman answered with a smile as he attached a sound suppressor to the barrel of his gun.

"Very impressive Mr Kuryakin."

Illya, who was about to punch his half-conscious opponent, froze mid-gesture and spun around. He hadn't heard the two men approaching. One of them was holding a gun and pointing it at him. Illya looked at the gun, looked up, saw the man take a deep breath, then he heard a muffled 'bang' and felt something hit him in the shoulder.

"Peril?..."

That was Napoleon, he sounded worried. Illya felt something trickle down his arm. He touched his shoulder, looked at his hand, there was blood on it. He turned his head to look at his shoulder, there was a hole there, a bullet hole. The man had shot him. Damn, that was going to hurt when the adrenaline wore off. Actually, Illya was already starting to feel a burning pain.

"Illya, behind you!"

But the warning came too late. Distracted by the hole and the increasing pain in his shoulder, Illya hadn't noticed that the man he had been fighting had recovered and was now standing right behind him. His opponent kicked him behind the knees and he fell to the ground. Then he felt the man's arm around his neck, the hand on the back of his head. Then came the familiar pressure on his carotid arteries. He knew what was going to happen next, but he suddenly felt too weak to struggle and let himself drift into unconsciousness.

A few minutes later, at the hotel

After a while, when she realized that Illya wasn't coming back with Napoleon, Gaby decided to go down and see what was going on. Once in the street she found no trace of her partners. She waited half an hour in the cold for them to show up. Eventually she went back up to their room, worried sick. Then she decided to check Illya's tracking device and her heart missed a beat. The dot was gone, the tracker was no longer active.

Illya, Solo, where are you? What's going on?

Half an hour later

I'm beginning to think Peril was right when he said I have the worst luck in the world…

Napoleon and Illya had been shoved into the back of the truck and they were now heading towards an unknown destination. Four of the men were with them in the back, two of them were pointing guns at the two agents. They were also holding flashlights. The two other men were the gunman who had shot Illya and the man who had been standing next to him and appeared to be the leader of the group. Napoleon glanced worriedly at his partner. Illya's opponent had kept him in a chokehold long enough for one of the other thugs to cuff his hands behind his back, then he had regained consciousness. Illya was now sitting up against the inside wall of the truck. He was trying his best to hide it but Napoleon could tell that he was in pain.

The gunman, who was sitting next to Illya, grabbed a flashlight and leaned closer to the Russian, he started examining his wound. Then he shot a glance at the leader and smiled.

"A nice, clean through-and-through wound to the deltoid, missed the artery. See, you should never doubt my legendary precision. To be honest I'm actually surprised myself."

He turned his attention back to Illya.

"You're a lucky fellow.", he said, patting the Russian on his injured shoulder, causing him to cry out. "Oops, sorry.", the gunman added, his tone falsely apologetic, then he chuckled.

Napoleon decided that it was time to ask some questions. He doubted he was going to get any answers but at least it would take the attention away from Illya and give him some respite. He cleared his throat.

"Sorry, you all seem to be very nice people. And I don't mean to be rude or anything but, why exactly are we here?", he asked, addressing the leader.

"Patience Mr Solo. We'll soon tell you everything you need to know. For now let's just say that we invited you because we need you to do something for us. And your partner, Mr Kuryakin, is here as insurance."

The man knew their names, that was never a good sign.

"Well I see a small flaw in your plan. Mr Kuryakin won't be much use to you if he dies from that bullet wound."

"Oh don't worry. As my colleague was explaining, the wound is not life threatening. We can easily control the bleeding until we get to our destination. Then we'll introduce him to our doctor, one of the best, he'll take good care of him."

The cruel smile on the leader's face made Napoleon uneasy and he fell silent. He watched as the gunman produced a gauze strip from what looked like a med-kit and started wrapping it tightly around Illya's shoulder. The man pulled on the strip one last time to make the bandage even tighter and Napoleon winced as Illya cried out again. Then the man used tape to hold the gauze in place.

Napoleon sighed inwardly. It had been such a lovely night…

At least we're both alive, that's something…

End of chapter 1.

I know bullet wounds to the shoulder can be really messy but let's just say that Illya is really (kinda) lucky :)