The chopper was visible on the horizon; it would be landing in minutes to take Napoleon and the wounded Illya to UNCLE Los Angeles, leaving the Nevada desert behind.

The CEA curled around his partner, putting his head down to protect Illya's from the sand being kicked up by the rotors.

The UNCLE Medical team leapt out with a stretcher, stabilized Illya on it and the group hunched over to the chopper, secured the stretcher, got strapped into their seats and the chopper rose into the air.

He held Illya's hand and thought, You're a Crown Prince, too, moy droog.

This drabble references my tales "Like a Phoenix from Ashes" and "The Stand In"