Solo and Gaby walked down the empty hallways in a brisk walk.
Solo's fingers wrapped tightly around her healthy arm as if he was afraid he would lose her otherwise.
Gaby's head swam from the joy and all the unanswered questions.
But she was able to keep up with the tall man.
Somewhere in her battered body had been a reserve of strength and she was now gladly using it.
Every now and then she allowed herself to look at her partner, who now wore the costom mask all the soldiers of her uncle wore.
Hiding his beautiful face.
How did he find her?

She was certain they had changed places a couple of times and after they had taken her beloved ring, she had almost lost hope.
Where was Illya?
When her uncle would catch just one of them…
The thought let ice cold thread twist in her gut.
She tripped over her own feet and Solo kept her from falling, pushing her into another hallway.
Gaby could feel his eyes on her.

"I'm fine!" She puffed, trying to get her labored breath under control.

"You don't look fine, Gabs!" His voice lacked all the jokes he usually packed into his voice and Gaby knew that these past days?
Weeks?
Hadn't been easy for him either.

"We thought you were dead!" He whispered and she wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly.

Had Illya thought she was dead?

"I'm not easily killed!" She sighed and closed her eyes briefly.

Solo chuckled. "You are one tough cookie!" Gently he brushed a hair strand from her face.

He still couldn't believe that he had found her.
She looked terrible to say the least.
Over her old bruises were new ones forming and she winced everytime he brushed over her other arm.
What would Illya do if he saw her like this?

So battered.
So broken.
She was strong.
The strongest woman he had ever encountered.
The wounds would heal and with everything else they would help her.

"Let's get you home! I know a certain Russian, who can't wait to meet you!" She gave him a small smile, swallowing all the comments forming on her tongue.

But then her eyes widened in a sudden panic.

"He's not here, is he?"

The maps had been pinned to the wall of their room.
Solo had starred at them for several minutes as if he had wanted to imprint them.
The way to the compound and the layout of it.
It hadn't taken Illya long to figure out were Gaby was at the moment and now the red needle marked the location of the compound.
To their surprise it hadn't been that far away.
Apparently there were a lot of abandoned compounds in this area.

"You sure she is there, Peril?" Solo had asked again and squinted at the maps.

He could feel the murder stare of his partner on him.
Luckily looks couldn't kill or Solo was probably the most killed man on planet earth.

"No, I'm not sure! I like wild goose chase!" The Russian had rolled his eyes at him and turned.

"What are you doing?" Solo had asked careful.

"Getting ready!" Illya had huffed and changed his clothes into his usual work clothes.

The disappearing into the bathroom or in any other room to change had been long dismissed and it didn't bother them to change in front of one another.
Even though the two men always turned their back if it was Gaby.

"You know the possibility of finding her is low and if we find her, we don't know how she is…" Illya had frozen, looking at his American partner, crossing his arms.

"She could be in terrible shape, Peril. She might not recognize us!" The Russian's finger had tapped his rhythm.

"I'll deal with it when it comes to it!" He had rumbled impatiently and Solo had risen one of his eyebrows.

"Do you? And how do you intend to stay calm when you see her? When she looks at you with a swollen eye and dried blood all over her face? When she cries out in agony because she can't stand on her broken leg? Or when she complains about not getting enough air? Do you really stay calm, when she shays away from you or begs you not to hurt her anymore with tears streaming down her face? Do you really stay calm? It took you less in the past to rip a man's throat out!" To Solo's surprise the Russian had stayed calm and had stared him down with his blue eyes.

"I will carry her and deal with other people after. Priority is to get her out!"

"You really think you can handle it?"

"Да!"

The tall Russian had grabbed his duffel bag and was about to head out the door, but Solo had stepped into his path.

"What Cowboy? Do you want to analyze me more? Do I have to pass some of your psychology tests?" Illya had asked mockingly and Solo had sighed tiredly.

"You know I once made a promise" The bewildered look he had gotten from Illya would have made him laugh any other day.

"I can't let you go! Walking into the lion's den and probably get caught!" Illya rolled his eyes at that.

"Very funny cowboy! What will you…"

Before Illya could have finished his sentence Solo had punched him and the tall man's eyes rolled back.
When Illya had fallen, Napoleon could have sworn the room had trembled from the impact.
Rubbing his hurting knuckles he had stepped next to the unconscious man.
With a tired sigh he had looked at the Russian.

"I'm sorry my friend, but I promised her to protect you and we both know you might not handle it. If her uncle gets you she will never forgive me!" He had grabbed one of the cushions and had put his friend's head on it.
Along his jaw was already a bruise forming.
At least Gaby would see that he had tried.

"I promise I will get her and there will be no need for you to be angry with me!" Solo had left then for the compound, leaving his comrade with a bruise and a headache when he woke up.

"Our Russian bear has probably just woken up and wants to kill me!" Solo joked and pulled her up a flight of stairs.

"Thank you!" Gaby whispered nearly inaudible.

Napoleon didn't know how grateful the small German woman was for him leaving his comrade behind.
She probably couldn't have dealt with Illya walking around here.
So close to her uncle, who wanted to get his hands on the tall Russian.
Solo nodded shortly as his attention was drawn to a full packed garage.
Row on row of black jeeps filled the huge space.
Inviting to pick one as their getaway car.

The bitter cold wind, heavy with snow, blew into the the garage and made Gaby shiver.
Solo pulled one of the warm coats next to them and draped it over the small woman shoulders.

"We will be out here in no time, let's go!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front of the garage.

"Will you hotwire a car?" She asked curiously as they made their way to the gaping entry.

She could smell her freedom and could hardly contain her giddiness.
Solo dangled a pair of keys in front of her.

"No need!"

Something had drawn her attention to look outside the garage and her heart froze.
Solo must have sensed it as he followed her gaze and his grip around her arm tightened.

"Shit!" He swore under his breath.

"Solo", she swallowed hard and tears threatened to come, "you have to leave!"

"No! I'm not leaving you here!" He hissed under his breath.

Not far from them stood a group next to a helicopter.
One of the men was unmistakenly her uncle and they all had just turned to them.
A smile crossed her uncle's face and with his left hand he waved at two soldiers.

"You have to!", her voice turning into steel, "Please!"

"Gaby!"

"I'll be okay! You will get me!" She didn't dare to look at her friend.

"I can't leave you here. He's going to kill me… he.." His grip didn't falter.

Panic was rising inside of her.
If her uncle caught Solo.
She didn't want to imagine this.
He would have her like he wanted.
He would have full control over her.

"You have to go! Please!" She begged panic seeping into her voice.

"Peril will…" Solo tried again his fingers digging into her arm.

"It's okay! He will understand! Please take care…" She couldn't finish her sentence as two soldiers jogged up to them.

"So why does my uncle let me be dragged up here?" Gaby snarled at the two men.

They ignored her as usual and grabbed her arms.
She felt the loss of Solo's hand like a physical blow.
Her heart turning heavy with every step they took away from him.
The snow crunching under their shoes.
Don't look back.
Don't look back.
She chanted in her head.
It was hard not to do it.
Gaby wanted to cry and yell.
She had tasted freedom and now they ripped it away from her in a matter of a second.