"We could use a map."
"Huh?"
"A map, Napoleon. We could use a map."
Napoleon Solo had driven in to the Thrush hideout, and did his regular superb job of freeing his partner from their clutches. Napoleon should have been able to get them back to civilization, too, except that he now sported a bloody gash just over his right eye, and he had been unable to tell Illya which way to head. Solos's disorientation was both annoying and worrisome to the blond U.N.C.L.E. agent.
"Why?"
Illya Kuryakin rolled his eyes, threw caution to the wind, and headed left out of the long, tree-lined driveway. He could see a Thrush car in pursuit, and he could hear the gunshots just missing their own vehicle.
"Because you cannot remember how to get out of here."
"So? 's not important," Napoleon slurred.
"Why is it not important, Napoleon? I would hate to allow your excellent rescue to go to waste by being re-captured."
"Boom."
Illya looked at his partner. He knew Napoleon had been hit hard, but his worry quotient was rising with every new word that came out of his injured friend's mouth.
"I fear we may need to call in for an air rescue, my friend," Illya said, deep concern in the tone of his voice.
"I'll be fine."
"Boom is fine?"
"Yes, Illya. Boom is fine." Napoleon lifted his finger and said, "Wait," then pointed his finger to the rear of the car. Illya looked in the rearview mirror just in time to see the Thrush car explode.
"Well, I guess boom is fine," Illya finally agreed.
"'m glad you see it my way," Napoleon countered. "I'm going to pass out now." Napoleon Solo made his pronouncement and his head promptly landed on Kuryakin's shoulder. Illya looked down at the top of his friend's head, shook his own head, and reached into his partner's jacket pocket for his communicator.
"Open channel D," he said as he left the remnants of the 'boom' in their dust.
The End.