Two men staggered out the of entrance at the top of the ancient pyramid, one dragging the other as a violent plume of dust and debris exploded behind them, knocking them both down to the roughly hewn stone platform where human sacrifices were once offered to the gods.
One of them pushed himself up onto his hands, choking and gagging on the contaminants that filled his airway. His spasms slowing until finally he coughed intermittently as he reached over; rolling his now motionless companion onto his back.
"Napoleon?" Illya rasped, "NAPOLEON!" He yelled his partner's name, shaking him. The Russian leaned forward feeling for a pulse, listening closely to Solo's mouth and nose for a sign of respiration; looking for any indication of life.
Kuryakin let out a sigh of relief then began to cough again, as his partner suddenly sputtered, breathing desperately for air. He lifted Napoleon to a sitting position as he groaned; holding him up trying to help his ease his breathing.
"You alright?"
Solo tried to take a deep breath, then erupted into another spasm of coughing accompanied by a gasp, acknowledging a sharp pain as he grabbed his side.
"ribs...there's a pain, lower back," he said, trying to hold back another spasm of coughing.
"Probably broken ribs," Illya assessed," you may have sustained a spinal injury from that cap-stone that grazed you."
"Thank you doctor for your astute observations...you still have them?
Illya patted a bulging canvas bag that was slung over his shoulder.
"You just had to touch didn't you?" Napoleon said,"couldn't wait minute?"
"Well, we could not leave them there. How was I supposed to know it was booby-trapped?"
Kuryakin had lifted the objects from their resting place, triggering a trap that triggered the chamber to self destruct; sending columns and capstones falling one after the other like dominoes. With interior stones collapsing all around them; the two agents barely escaped with their lives as they ran out the exit at the top of the pyramid.
"Look, you go on ahead," Solo coughed, knowing they had to make a hasty retreat from the site. "I'll only slow you down."
"Not a chance. Remember we have had this discussion already... after the last time you left me to disastrous results. It works both ways my friend; I am not leaving you and that is final answer."
"Yes, David."
"Please, do not say that?" Illya said, still feeling a little uncomfortable being reminded of the madwoman that nearly killed him, thinking he was her son.
"O.K. no aruguments from me tovarisch. I don't exactly relish the idea of being abandoned in the jungle anyway." He tried wiping the dust from his face. "Hey we have any water?"
"Just enough for drinking, not for bathing, I am afraid."
Illya offered him a swig from the sole canteen that remained between the two of them, then took a quick swallow when Napoleon was finished.
"Do you think you can stand?"
"We'll find out?" Solo said as he put his hand on Illya's shoulder.
The two agents helped each other to rise, sending them both into another fit of coughing, Napoleon groaning just a little, trying to mask his distress. The Russian supported his American partner, not telling him of the pain in his own side; more than likely cracked ribs as well.
They looked out into nearly overgrown plaza of El Azuzul; in the center of it, facing the south side of the Olmec pyramid like a great sentinels stood the immense carvings of two stylized human figures facing the carved statue of a jaguar, erected there by ancient artisans.
Illya stopped for a moment, pulling the contents of the pouch, holding two small carved heads, examining and comparing their features to the thick lips and flat noses of the monoliths that stood beneath them in the plaza as they stared out with hollow gazes. They were similar but not exact; the ones in his hands were more like the colossal severed heads found at the other major Olmec sites.
The objects suddenly felt strangely warm to him, and seemed for a second or two that they had begun to vibrate then stopped; the Russian thinking it was the just the heat affecting his imagination as he returned them to the pouch.
"These are simple stone carvings" Napoleon asked, "why is Thrush so interested in them? I don't think going into the antiquities business is exactly their cup of tea?"
Illya placed his hand on the pouch; reassuring himself there was nothing strange about the artifacts...
"There are sixteen of the large Olmec heads at four sites, San Lorenzo has ten of them, La Venta three, Tres Zapotes two and Cobata has one...legend has it, there were eight smaller heads and it is said when they were united in the presence of any of the monoliths, great knowledge and power would be revealed.
"So we're chasing after Thrush as they chase after a legend,"Napoleon sighed.
"Apparently so? Thrush has three of them, and we have two, so..."
"So three left."
"Good to know that your keen mathematical skills were not affected by any of that falling debris." Illya quipped. "Napoleon, I find it is too much of a coincidence that Thrush came into the possession of those three carvings and then communications problems began in the area.
"Illya that's a pretty big stretch of the imagination don't you think...and this theory coming from a man who until year ago didn't believe in ghosts? I mean, stone heads are not exactly high tech?"
"I know, but trust me, I am beginning to accept the arcane my friend," the Russian smiled at him."and when it comes to Thrush; I now believe anything is possible."
"Do you have an idea where the other three heads are then?"
"Not sure yet; I am still thinking about it."
The heat and humidity were oppressive as they moved down the long stairs of the pyramid, until they finally reached it's base. The dust that still covering them mixed with their perspiration, creating a muddy silt on their skin and in their hair as they stopped to rest on the bottom steps; trying to get their bearings.
Illya looked out across the plaza again, shading his eyes with his hands; gazing up at the position of the sun, "We head that way, north," he said pointing towards the jungle where they would be forced to navigate again.
They had lost their jeep and supplies when it went toppling over the edge of a washed out road; having thrown themselves from it just before it plunged into the Rio Coatzacoalcos. It was dark and they hadn't seen that part of the primitive road was gone, until it was nearly too late. They lay on the muddy embankment, cursing their luck as they were now forced to travel through the jungle on foot to El Azuzul.
"Wait a minute," Napoleon said, undoing the strap to his wrist watch. He flipped it over to reveal a small compass attached to the back of it.
"And when were you going to tell me you had this?"
"Hey we didn't need it until now, you were doing just fine," Napoleon looked at the compass. "north is that way," he said, smiling as he made a slight correction in Illya's estimation, then shrugged." I was a boy scout, remember?"
"Oh yes...that is the reason why you get us lost every time you drive?" the Russian laughed, then coughed again.
"And where exactly is going north taking us?"
"To the archaeological site at San Lorenzo Tenochtitlán. The largest number of Olmec heads are there and I suspect Thrush will be as well...we find them, we find the other heads, I think?"
"So that's the plan then; let them find the heads for us then we take them away?"
"Yes? And if they have not found them; then we relieve them of the three they already have."
"O.K. that way then," Napoleon smiled as he pointed again toward their new direction, getting his partner to help support him as they headed off together into the jungle filled with a kaleidoscope of shapes, colors and aromas.
The jungle teemed with the sounds of life; surrounding them as they stopped after traveling for some time. Illya allowing Solo to rest under the pretense of checking the compass again; refusing to acknowledge his own pain. The Russian handed the canteen to his partner, after pretending to drink from it first; instead he wet his mouth with the water condensation on the large plant leaves around them.
"It would do for now," he thought," knowing that Solo was in a great deal of pain and needed the water more. Napoleon was trying to hide it but his pace was beginning to slow; his back injury was affecting his gait as he was beginning to limp badly.
In the distance, clouds loomed over the tops of the Tuxtla mountains, they were too far away to hear the rumbling of thunder but the flashes of lightning were visible. It could rain, or it could not; one never knew in this part of Mexico, as the two agents continued their trek through the dense jungle growth; suspecting the storms over the mountains would be coming their way soon enough.
Three weeks earlier Napoleon Solo stood with Alexander Waverly, watching in communications as the grid for the southwest United States began to cascade to a shut down, under what appeared to be an immense dampening field.
A complete systems overload occurred for the third time as local telephone and power companies worked frantically to resolve the issue from the first moment it happened; seeking to find the source of the problem but without success.
No one knew what was causing it. The grid would return to complete normalcy just as inexplicably as it would begin to fail, but each time the failure would extend farther than the last, affecting a larger region.
"Mr. Solo, I want you and Mr. Kuryakin to head to our office in New Mexico to investigate this. I suspect trouble is afoot, possibly our feathered adversaries being up to no good again. Thrush also seems to be making their presence known in Mexico, sources have indicated they have been stealing antiquities from several archaeological sites as well museums. I don't know if the two schemes are related or not as that remains to be seen." Waverly glanced around the communications room, "And just exactly where is Mr. Kuryakin, I thought he would have been here with you?"
"He went home sir and will be back shortly; he said he had a personal matter to attend to and wouldn't be gone long."
"Alright then. Make sure he is fully briefed; I expect you both to leave for the southwest this evening."
Waverly handed Napoleon a pair of airline tickets that would take them to the Greater Southwest International Airport in Texas, from there they would have to drive to the field office in Santa Fe; a long dusty and dry trip that Solo was not looking forward to.
Illya Kuryakin opened the wrought iron gate in front of his house in Washington Square, quickly jogging up the eleven stairs, skipping a few with a lively spring in his step. He unlocked the front door to the two story brownstone, stepping into the vestibule, punching in the alarm code then opening the inside door; he walked quietly into his home .
His son Demya was down in the basement apartment with Auntie Olga, his nanny. So he and his wife had the entire house to themselves. He slipped off his shoes, then his jacket, tie and then his shirt; dropping them like a trail as he walked up behind his wife where she stood at the kitchen sink.
"I hear ye?" she laughed at his attempt to creep up behind her.
"I must be getting careless," he said," as he leaned against her, slipping his hands up under her blouse, giving her breasts a playful squeeze with his hands. She could feel his arousal as he pressed his pelvis against her.
"Privacy is such a wonderful thing," he whispered as he began nibbling at her throat.
Elliott turned, wrapping her arms around his neck; kissing him on the lips, when he suddenly picked her up in his arms, carrying her to bottom of the stairs.
"Not going to take me all the way upstairs?" she giggled.
"Only if you do not want me to have enough strength to do what I came home for?"
"What? Yer getting old Kuryakin!" she laughed, running up the stairs, with Illya scrambling after her.
He followed her down the hall to their bedroom, closing and locking the door as Elliott stood beside their large bed, already beginning to remove her clothes.
Illya walked over to her, then the two of them finished removing each other's clothing frantically, as they kissed. Elliott climbed onto the edge of the bed when he grabbed her by the waist, holding her.
"No, stay there... just like that," Illya said, leaning over her, wrapping arms around her waist, as she knelt on her hands and knees,"I have been doing some reading," he whispered, "they say this position is most advantageous for conception."
"Good God, ye make it sound like one of yer lab experim...oooooooh!" Elliott moaned as her husband suddenly slipped inside her.
"Better? he whispered as he gently moved with her.
"Mmmm, oh yes."
He made love to Elliott slowly, calming down from their initial excitement; pleasuring her with his steady rhythm, then as he began rock faster, he reached down with his hand, massaging her with his fingers until she reached orgasm. He paused feeling her climax, then thrust once, then again as her contractions made him surrender to his own pleasure with a long moan. Illya stayed there holding his wife in his embrace for a moment, then kissing her on the shoulder; he flopped down beside her on the bed; his heart still racing.
"Wow," she said," not bad for a quickie? It is nice not having ta worry about a little pair of curious eyes now isn't it?" she smiled. They were both happy that Demya had his own bedroom now, giving them the solitude they both craved when being intimate. Demmy had become more and more insistent about wanting a baby brother, especially seeing so many other children with siblings across the street in Washington Square Park when he would be taken there to play, but not understanding why he did no have a brother to play with like the other children. It was then that Elliott and Illya decided it was the right time to have another child.
"Mmm huh," Illya mumbled; his eyes closed, agreeing with her description of their love-making as he started to drift to sleep.
"Oh no ye don't. Ye have ta get back to headquarters remember?"
"I know, but a nap would be nice right now," he smiled, then rolled to his side facing her. He reached over, looking into her eyes; tracing his fingers around her face, then her throat, then down to her breasts again. "They say that three is the charm?" he smiled.
"Let's hope so darlin'? What are the odds of me getting pregnant three times, not trying and now that we want ta make a baby, we can't? Maybe three tries will be the charm?"
Elliott reached out with her hand, stroking him until he became erect again, then pushing Illya to his back; she lowered herself, slipping on top of him as he lay his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes concentrating on her undulating movements.
Suddenly his communicator chirrped, making the Russian moan for a different reason.
"Don't answer it," she whispered breathlessly.
"Have to," he said reaching for it on the night stand.
"Kuryakin here."
"Hey, when are you coming?"
"Excuse me?" Illya blurted out, while his wife was still on top of him.
"back to headquarters, when are you coming back? We just got a new assignment and I need to fill you in."
Illya moaned just a little as Elliott giggled, making her movement faster.
"What did you say?" Napoleon asked.
"Nothing. mmmbe there soon, out." he ended the call abruptly and rolled his wife over, pulling her beneath him; thrusting into her again, harder this time until she let out a scream of delight. He arched his back as he moaned, bringing a quick conclusion to their second round of love-making. It was their last chance to try again to conceive a child for a while, as Elliott would be leaving that night for an assignment that would keep her away from home for at least a month if not longer...
"Love you," she whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed, getting dressed. " I guess I'll see ye whenever I get back from Tokoyo...any clue where ye are headed?"
He shook his head," I will let you know...love you Annushka," he said kissing deeply as he said good bye, then left.