Act XII: Finale
The sounds of the ballroom faded as they moved down the hall. This was new territory for Illya, but not unfamiliar; Talia's description was very accurate.
She stopped him before the first turn in the hallway. "I'll go ahead and disable the cameras. I have a feedback loop ready to go." She disappeared around the corner and was gone for less than five minutes. "Let's go. There's two guards in the first hall."
Illya slipped her a small aerosol sprayer. "Spray it right under his nose. He'll drop instantly." She took the cylinder with a shaky hand. "They should be out for a minimum of 10 minutes."
The stepped up to the doorway and Talia entered her code. The door slid open and she stepped through with Illya right behind. Two guards already had their rifles leveled at them as soon as the door was open.
"Oh! I'm sorry, I think I left my bag in the lab." Talia chatted cheerily, ignored the guns and walked right up to them.
"He can't be in here, ma'm," the first guard said.
He allowed Talia to step next to him as he eyed Illya. "Oh, him? He's harmless."
"Still, he needs to . . ."
His protest ended as Illya spritzed his face at the exact moment Talia sprayed the second guard. They both fell silently. Talia took Illya's hand and led him down the hall. When they reached the first door she whispered, "Communications. Wait here." She slipped inside and re-appeared seconds later. "Number three down. One more in the main computer room."
Illya gave her his sprayer and she entered her code. She bit her lower lip nervously and stepped in when the door unlocked, and again reappeared seconds later.
"Why am I here?" Illya teased as she grabbed his hand and dragged him in.
"You still have to get us out." The comment was supposed to be a joke but her shaky smile didn't pull it off. She checked the door, and then her watch. "It's secure now. We have 5 minutes until the feedback loop times out and the cameras come back online." She unfastened the billowy silk skirt and dropped it to the floor revealing a sleek, black bodysuit underneath. She nervously tied the silk blouse at her waist.
He met her eyes as she pulled her hair back into a practical ponytail. "Talia," he said gently. "I am truly sorry about David."
Her smile was fragile and her eyes shiny with emotion. "Don't be, Illyuska," she replied. "He was lost to them before I ever came along. It has just taken me this long to figure that out. Now let's quit wasting time."
Illya got back to business and went directly to the seemingly endless racks of punch cards. "We'll have to destroy these. There are too many to carry. The tapes will be enough." He applied an accelerant to the cards along with an incendiary device.
"I agree," she said crisply as she removed the reels. "There are two reels we need. The rest can go up with the lab." She stacked the reels by the door and applied magnets to the rest of the reels to destroy the data.
Illya quickly wired the lab for total destruction. Talia wrapped the ungainly reels in a lab coat and peeked out into the hallway. "Still quiet." She kicked the billowy pile of skirt away from the door. "Pity. There's enough material there to clothe a family of gypsies," she quipped. "You ready, comrade?"
He grinned. "Always. Time?"
"Three minutes. Let's move." They darted out of the main computer room and into the communications room. They stepped over the unconscious guard and Illya planted more explosives in record time.
Talia pointed at a small room on the side. "Phone trunk."
Illya planted the last of the explosives in the little room and set the timer to coincide closely with the others. "When this basement goes, the whole upper structure should collapse into the pit. I've wired all the supporting walls. This compound will be rendered useless to anyone."
"Ninety five seconds, Illya, we have to go. Now." She hugged the wrapped tapes to her chest.
"Your wish is my command." He took her elbow and they fled.
They passed the guards and slipped out the door. Music from the party drifted down the hallway and grew fainter as they moved away in the opposite direction.
"There are a few innocent lives in that room," Talia commented as they made their way to Marcus' office.
"There will be time to get out. The ballroom isn't over any basement area, and there are doors that go directly outside." He propelled her urgently down the hallway by her elbow, his internal clock counting down. It would be close, very close.
Talia stopped him before they made the turn to the final hall. "Two guards," she whispered. With her hands full with the ungainly reels Illya readied the gas. They walked briskly around the corner as if they belonged there.
"Have you two had anything to eat?" Talia asked cheerily as they walked up to the wary pair. Her smile threw them and they didn't even raise the rifles. Illya sprayed the first one and chopped the second before they realized what was happening. The first one had fallen in the hall, but the second rebounded off the office door before he fell. Talia checked the hall to see if anyone heard while Illya approached the door.
In a flash, he picked the lock, pulled her inside and softly closed the door behind them. A breeze fluttered the drapes in the open window as moonlight spilled onto the patterned carpet, making a bright path to escape. Talia went directly to the window, but Illya stopped just inside the door.
"Come, we're almost there," she said, breathless with excitement.
The little hairs on the agent's neck were standing at attention. The incoming breeze now seemed icy. "Wait, Talia." Alarms were going off in his mind. "Who opened the window?"
"I did."
The deep voice caused Talia to gasp and spin around. The tapes fell from the lab coat to the floor with a thud; a small table lamp snapped on. In the dark recesses of the room a figure, backed by two other dark forms, stepped forward. Illya froze with his hand on the butt of his gun.
In the yellow of the meager light, David Danzig's face was hard and lined. His eyes had a glimmer of sadness. His hand held a pistol directed at Talia.
"David!" She breathed, her eyes wide.
"Talia. I'm such a fool." He motioned the men towards Illya, and they disarmed him. "Marcus never did trust you, you know. I should have listened to him." He stepped in close to her. "I defended you to him and my father." He stroked her cheek with a finger as she stood there, transfixed. "I loved you Talia. Did you ever love me?"
"Yes," she whispered. "I did."
He nodded towards Illya. "And according to this man," he indicated one of the shadows with a nod of his head, "your cousin Androv is 100 pounds heavier and two inches taller." He locked his eyes on Illya. "Who is that man, Talia?"
Illya spoke. "My name is Illya Kuryakin and I'm from U.N.C.L.E."
"U.N.C.L.E?" Angrily, David turned and raised his arm to Talia. The sound of the slap was loud and sharp and she flew against the wall. She slid to the floor with a look of absolute horror on her face.
The henchmen instantly subdued the agent when he began to leap to her defense. David was in front of the struggling agent in a heartbeat and pressed the pistol to his forehead. "Are there more of you? Answer me!"
Illya stopped struggling. One of the goons gripped his injured arm and he could feel the wound tear open again, but he stood stock-still. His eyes burned with blue fire as he locked his gaze on David Danzig. "You don't have much time," he said calmly.
The next moment found them thrown to the floor as an explosion rocked the foundation of the mansion. Illya, expecting it, continued the motion and managed to roll to his feet, but the bucking floor and loose items flying about the room made it difficult to stay there. Everyone else in the room had been knocked to the floor. One of the henchmen's rifles skittered to Illya's feet.
He kicked the closest goon in the face, retrieved the rifle and managed to make it to Talia's side. "Come," he barked as he pulled her up.
There was another explosion, and the walls shook. Parts of the ceiling rained down on them and pictures popped from the walls and crashed to the floor. They moved towards the window, but the crack of gunfire made them duck down. The shot shattered the windowpane just in front of Illya's face and peppered him with shards. A second shot made him reel back as it skimmed his shoulder.
Illya slammed into Talia and drove her back. Another shot, barely heard above the sounds of the rumbling house, pushed him on. His thigh burned and he realized he'd been hit. Adrenalin blocked the pain and fueled his survival instincts as he pushed her out the door and back into the hallway where they stumbled over the unconscious guards.
"Up," he barked, eyeing a stairway at the end of the hall.
They could hear the screams of the party guests mixed with the sounds of the collapsing house. Thick, black smoke, hot with fire, billowed down the hallway and made their eyes water instantly. The floor rolled and gaping holes opened around them.
Getting up the stairs was like trying to swim up a waterfall; the floorboards shook, the walls rocked and the railing fell away from under their hands. Gasping and coughing from the smoke and heat they fell to their knees at the top of the stairs.
"Move!" Illya ordered. He heard another 'pop!' and felt a sting high in his back, in the shoulder of his injured arm. He pushed Talia forward as he fell to the floor. He rolled to his side, brought up the rifle and blindly returned fire. He heard an unearthly scream in response from somewhere in the maelstrom below.
"Illya!" Talia yelled over the destruction. "Over here!"
The agent was unable to hold the rifle any longer because the fingers of his hand suddenly lost their feeling. It clattered to the floor and he pulled himself towards her voice with his good arm. Suddenly he felt hands on him, and he was helped him to his feet. Inky smoke veiled Talia's face. "There's a door," she coughed.
"Leave me," he rasped. "It's impossible. Save yourself, Talia!"
Her grip only tightened. "I won't leave you. Come on!" She moved in close so he could see her face. The fierce determination in her eyes made him move. They stumbled through an opening in the wall that used to be an elegant French door to a small patio.
Escape was ten feet below them. He focused on that alone as he helped Talia over the marble railing where she hit the grass below and rolled. He threw his leg over to follow her but was yanked backwards at the moment he let go of the railing.
Illya crashed into David and they fell to the patio floor in a tangled mass, David's rifle sandwiched between them. They exchanged blows and a roundhouse punch sent the agent against the wall where he left a trail of blood as he slid down into a sit. David jumped to his feet and brought up the barrel of the rifle. His hair was frizzed and singed, his eyes wild, and his features deeply shadowed by soot and flame. His hands shook with fury as he aimed the weapon.
With a desperate sweep of his leg, Illya took out David's feet as the trigger was pulled. Bits of stucco stung his face when the bullet hit the wall, which Illya ignored as he scrambled to the downed man. The agent grabbed the rifle's barrel and yanked it from David's loosened grip. Pain lanced through the agent's body with every move he made, but he managed to get to his knees and slam the rifle butt against David's head when he tried to rise. He fell and didn't move.
Another explosion in a different direction and the sound of gunfire announced Napoleon's arrival and a route to safety. Illya pulled himself up to the railing and caught a glimpse of agents spilling like ants through a breach in the wall before his sight was obscured by thick smoke.
"Illya!" Talia screamed from below. Shrapnel shot through the air on hot wind, and Talia covered her head with her arms at the onslaught. Illya managed to roll over the smooth marble railing and landed with a painful thud on the grass near her. Bright lights flashed in his vision, and he wasn't sure if they were real or in his mind.
Talia pulled him to his feet and he found his balance. He wrapped his good arm around her waist and they moved quickly across the manicured expanse of lawn now strewn with embers and debris. The heat from the fire on the backs of their necks forced them towards the breach in the wall. The pain in his leg made him thankful for the adrenalin that kept him moving.
Burning shrapnel from numerous explosions rained down as they fought to keep their feet on the shaking ground. Talia stumbled and Illya managed to pull her up without breaking stride. They locked arm in arm, comforted by the gritty sweatiness of their skin against skin. The darkness around them throbbed red.
"Almost there!" Illya encouraged, his smoke-singed voice raw.
Napoleon beckoned them from the edge of the blasted wall. His eyes sparked with a fiery reflection as he lay down cover fire for the pair. Bullets zinged through the air as the assault force continued to spread out from the breach. Illya made eye contact with his partner, the grim determination that drove him very clear in the icy blue. They were almost home, when Illya heard a projectile whiz by his ear.
When he heard the shot Solo ducked and shouldered his rifle in one smooth motion to cover his friend. Through his gun site he found David Danzig on the second floor balcony, raging flames behind and below him. The careful time he took to aim the next shot indicated to Solo that he knew there was no escape; he intended his last act on this Earth to be one of a true Danzig: Revenge.
Solo snapped off a shot in response that hit low, and cursed. The figure on the balcony didn't even flinch. As the agent adjusted his targeting he saw the muzzle flash of Danzig's second shot through his gun sites. He squeezed off his own shot almost simultaneously, and the figure on the porch collapsed.
"Talia!" Illya's voice was ragged, the shout impossibly loud.
Solo looked up in time to see his partner fall with his arms wrapped protectively around the woman. The momentum of her fall carried them just into the breach and safety before they both hit the ground. Illya managed to twist and cushion her fall with his body. Napoleon reached their side as his partner struggled to a sit.
"Talia!" Illya whispered urgently, cradling her head in his lap. "We made it!" His voice was tight and raw with emotion as he held her face with the palms of his bloody hands.
Kneeling by her Solo saw the blossoming rose of blood seep through the front of her blouse. He took her wrist, felt the weak pulse and knew between that and her hugely dilated eyes, that there wasn't a thing they could do for her. Sorrow made him hoarse as he spoke.
"Talia, thank you." Her eyes told him that was all he needed to say. She gave him a weak smile. Then her lashes quivered as her eyes sought out her true love.
"Illya." Her whispery voice was barely audible over the surrounding chaos. When she found his face, her eyes were dull.
"I'm here," he replied gruffly. He pulled her close to his heart.
Feeling like an intruder Napoleon, backed away. Sounds of the assault were growing faint as the U.N.C.L.E. contingency overtook the compound. Distant shouts and occasional gunfire were the only noises that punctured the sound of the inferno.
The sound of running feet coming up behind made him half-turn. April, dressed in black, erupted from the darkness. His arm automatically barred her from any further intrusion on the couple. She stopped with a small gasp when she took in the scene and gave Napoleon a questioning glance. When he shook his head once in response April's eyes immediately turned watery. She placed a grimy hand over her mouth; her gun hand dangled at her side. Needing some human contact, Solo put his arm around her shoulders and they watched their friend and partner say goodbye.
In voices so soft that only they could hear, Illya Kuryakin and Talia Inova shared their thoughts. "We made it," she breathed softly in their native tongue. Her lips floated into a whisper of a smile.
"Yes," Illya murmured, stroking her cheek. "Yes, we did."
"You said it was impossible."
He forced the small sob that escaped his throat into a chuckle. "Of course I did. You know I'm pessimistic by nature." The searing pain from his injuries was nothing next to the pain he felt in his heart; it grew and grew until he was sure it was going to choke the life out of him, but he wasn't going to let her see that. Their last minutes would be only between them and shared not with the pain. He carefully moved the hair from her forehead with gentle fingers. "I suppose you are thrilled to prove me wrong."
"Again." She finished, her momentary bright smile giving way to a grimace. "Oh!"
"Shhh, I'm here, love. I will always be here." He whispered in her ear then kissed her temple.
"I know. You have always been with me." Her voice was growing more and more weary with each passing second. Her dark eyes drifted shut.
"I will always love you, Talia Alina," Illya finally confessed. He found an odd strength in actually speaking the words. For a moment it seemed like this would all go away; that the words alone would simply fix everything and change their lives forever in a way he could now clearly see. But inside he knew it wasn't to be, and could only hope that she saw the same fleeting vision from his confession.
"We really did make it." The lines of pain drained away from her face and were replaced with a brilliant smile and a moment of sparkle in her eyes as she opened them wide and looked deep into his soul. "I love you, Illya Nickovetch." The last of her breath left her body with those words while the life left her eyes with a brief flicker of farewell.
With a ragged sob, Illya stroked her pale cheek one last time and ever so gently closed her eyes with a shaking hand.
Epilogue
Napoleon wondered if it was possible to delay your own body from healing by sheer will, and if so, that's what Illya had done for the days that followed the end of their last mission. The inscrutable blond had carried himself with cool aloofness as he arranged for the delivery of Talia Alina Inova's body to what was left of her family in the Ukraine. He turned down Napoleon's offer to go with him and accompanied the coffin alone.
Illya Kuryakin returned to New York four days later a bit more pale if that was possible, red eyed and close mouthed. True, Illya was far from talkative, but even the minimal chat that was usually the norm between them dried up completely. He surrendered himself to the Medical Wing as soon as he arrived home and slept solidly for five days.
Finally, with a few days' off after his release from Medical, he was back to work. Napoleon noticed that his partner still moved stiffly, but, as usual, didn't complain. There was still some healing to be done. When they entered their office on his first day of active duty the blond agent stopped just inside the door. Solo nearly ran over him.
"What?" Solo said when he noted Illya's disapproving stare.
"My desk is empty."
Solo glanced at the clear desktop. "How about that?" he said in amusement. He circled around the surprised agent to get to his own desk. "Gee, do you think maybe your partner actually took the time to do the reports?" The sarcastic tone in his voice made the corner of Illya's mouth twitch as a grin was suppressed. Napoleon flopped into his chair and put his feet on the desk.
Finally, Illya moved stiffly to his own chair and sat slowly down. "I was actually looking forward to being busy," he admitted, and began to rearrange the items on his desk. "I guess I'll have to …" his voice stopped when he opened the top drawer.
He stared for a moment, and then picked up the plastic temporary ID card from the drawer. His lips tightened into a thin line as he studied the small photo on the card next to Talia's name. After a moment, his face softened and he slipped the card into the breast pocket of his shirt, on the side over his heart. His cheeks flushed lightly and he met Solo's eyes. "Thank you," he said quietly.
"You're welcome," Solo replied. "Now let's get back to work. Waverly's waiting." He dragged his feet off the desk, stood, and stepped toward the door.
"The world needs saving again, I suppose," Illya sighed as he shut the drawer, rose, and fell in behind his partner. "And you owe me lunch. You were late breaching the wall."
"What?!" Napoleon protested as he opened the door. "How do you figure that?"
And the debate was on.
FINIS