Illya clung tightly to the rope, refusing to look down at what he knew waited far below. The dragon looked up at him in anticipation, flicking its forked tongue and swishing its gigantic tail. The creature's ancestors had been ordinary Komodo dragons, but THRUSH had manipulated their DNA, creating a hybrid that was then infused with growth hormones and pituitary and thyroid gland extracts, until the final result was a being that was about the size of a minivan. THRUSH used the monster to guard its prisoners at the former estate on Breckenridge Lane, which had been converted into holding cells for a secret lab.
He would have found a pack of rottweilers to have been less intimidating, but of course THRUSH always had to be over the top in everything they did. At least they hadn't found a way to make the thing exhale fire...yet, Illya thought grimly. Its hide was so tough that no weapon in UNCLE'S stockpile could penetrate it.
The girl was young, barely older than a teenager. Her eyes were wide with fright as she watched from the window in her tiny cell. Illya had no idea where she'd come from or what diabolical plans THRUSH had for her. He only knew that she needed his help, that he was her only hope.
At last he reached the window, where he looked inside and saw that she was standing on a small stool. He reached in for her, pulling her up and out of the window. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and her legs around his middle, holding on for dear life.
"Are you ready?" he asked her.
"Yes." Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Here we go, then." He began the arduous journey back across the rope to the fence at the other end, his efforts made considerably more difficult by the extra weight he now carried.
The creature below snarled hungrily. Illya wondered how often it was fed. Probably not very often at all, he concluded.
At last they reached the fence on the other side, and with a surge of relief, Illya swung himself and the girl over its edge.
They were about halfway down when the girl cried out," I can't move! My foot's stuck!"
Illya quickly climbed back up to where he could reach her and discovered that her shoe was firmly entrenched inside one of the fence's grooves. He struggled with it for several minutes, then finally gave up and gently removed her foot from the shoe.
"We will just have to leave it there," he said apologetically.
"I don't care," she replied. "I just want to get away from here."
At last they reached the ground, where they dashed for the getaway car. Illya drove and drove until he knew that they were out of danger. Then he glanced at his companion, realizing for the first time that he didn't even know her name.
"Thank you so much for saving me," she told him.
"I was happy to have been of assistance." He smiled gallantly.
"I'm Desdemona," she told him.
"My name is Illya Kuryakin," he replied.
"I've never heard that name before."
"Where do you live?" he asked.
She gave him directions to her home, and he drove her there. "Thank you so much again, Illya," she told him. "I don't know what would have happened to me if you hadn't shown up when you did."
"I am glad that I was able to help," he replied. "And it was a pleasure to meet you, although I wish it could have been under better circumstances. Perhaps we could meet again sometime, under more pleasant ones."
She gave a radiant smile. "I think I'd like that a lot."
He smiled back. "It is a date, then." As he drove back to UNCLE headquarters, he concluded that he couldn't be more pleased with the outcome of the day's adventures.