The fire popped and crackled as it came to life, illuminating the cave in which Napoleon and Illya found themselves. Sitting cross – legged on the cave floor, Napoleon looked uneasily back at the rear of the cave; it stretched off into the distance and was unexplored by them. "Do you think there are any wild animals back there?" he asked his partner sotto voce. "I really don't feel like being some bear's midnight snack."
The Russian shrugged as he poked the fire. "We are armed if anything is back there," he replied noncommittally, "If it would make you feel better, we'll sleep in shifts. I'm not tired now so if you want to nap, go ahead."
Napoleon shook off his jacket. "I'm awake."
They sat silently staring at the fire. They felt reasonably safe because the satrap they had escaped from earlier had gone up in flames thanks to Illya's incendiary devices and the few THRUSH who had managed to get out were low – level goons more interested in saving their own skins than in finding them. Napoleon had managed to regain possession of his communicator and activated its homing signal, so they knew help was on the way; when it would get there was anyone's guess. They were about a three and a half hours' drive north of Billings, Montana high up in the mountains.
"Illya?"
"Hmmm?"
"May I ask you a personal question?"
The blond looked up and regarded his partner through narrowed eyes. "This is a change of pace; you've made of habit of asking me personal questions. What do you want to know?"
"Are you ever…ah, are you ever afraid? I mean, we've been in some horrific situations where it seemed questionable that we would live another ten minutes and I've never seen you flinch except from pain."
Illya grunted and turned his attention back to the flames. "Why do you want to know that?"
"I guess because I know I've been afraid. Like during The Gurnius Affair, I was afraid that you might go too far and permanently damage me."
"I know," Illya whispered.
"And that time you rescued me and we had to swim to get to the boat* through choppy water with the sun setting, I was scared."
"I promised you I would not let you drown."
"I know, but I was still scared. You're the only one who knows my fear, but I don't think I've ever seen fear in you. So I ask again: Are you ever afraid?"
Illya leaned against the wall of the cave. He looked out into the night and sighed heavily. "I have known fear, moy brot, I have known terror. Through no fault of their own, most of my family left me behind because they were killed during and after The Great Patriotic War. Several times while I was with the KGB and GRU, I was left to my own devices when missions went badly and barely managed to save myself." He looked down at his hands and then into Napoleon's eyes. "The reason you do not see fear in me is because I have no fear of losing my life. I will either live or die; sometimes I think I do not care which. But I fear losing you, Napoleon. You are all the family I have left. My biggest fears are being abandoned and losing my family. If you were to die, both of those fears would be realized. That is why I would give my life to protect you."
Napoleon saw naked emotion standing in the Russian's eyes as what he had just been told washed over him. "I'm surprised you told me that," he remarked sincerely, "I'm honored and just so you know: I would give my life to protect you, too."
Picking up a stick to toss into the fire Illya replied, "There is something about a fire that is primal. It can bring out the truth. So. Now you know what I am afraid of, Napoleon. Are you sorry you asked?"
"No, Partner Mine. I'm glad that you trust me enough to answer truthfully." He looked at his watch. "It's almost midnight. Get some sleep; that's an order. I'll wake you at four to relieve me." He watched as the blond nodded and stretched out, back to the fire, and fell asleep in less than three minutes. Not for the first time, he marveled at how quickly the Russian could go from fully awake to practically unconscious in no time at all. With one last glance behind him, he settled in to keep an eye out for danger. He looked at his slumbering partner and resisted the urge to ruffle his hair, knowing how life – threatening such a move would be. Let's do our best, Partner, to not lose each other. Gently picking up another stick to place on the fire he thought, I love you, too, moy brot.