Chapter 8. This one's a long one. I hope you'll enjoy it :)

Unknown location, Gaby's p.o.v.

Gaby watched as Illya used Napoleon's belt to secure the balled up piece of shirt tightly against the wound. Illya didn't seem too worried about the bleeding. Thankfully, the cut he had made wasn't too deep. The first stab wound was still plugged by the knife and the bleeding was minimal. Still Illya had also taken the time to dress it as best as he could. The fact that Napoleon was still unconscious didn't seem to worry Illya too much either; he had told her that the effects of the drug could last longer depending on the individual. Apparently Napoleon's pulse was back to normal and Illya had added that Solo was still unconscious because he was a fragile American. Gaby felt as if her every breath was a sigh of relief, it had been a close call. Of course, Napoleon would need medical attention soon but at least he wasn't in immediate danger. Still she was anxious for him to regain consciousness, his impression of a corpse was a little too convincing. A few minutes earlier Illya and her had discussed what they should do next. Their unexpected ally from the CIA had used a portable radio communication device to contact his superiors who had, in turn, contacted the MI6. Hopefully help was coming but they had agreed that contacting Waverly themselves might speed things up. The plan was to find a way to free Illya and use the radio transmitter to contact their boss. After a quick inspection of the control panel, Gaby had found the switch which controlled the opening and closing of the only way out of the room Illya and Napoleon were in. Illya had insisted that he wanted her to stay in the control room. According to him, the chances of them being spotted by guards would be doubled if they were both roaming the building. Gaby had almost protested but she knew he would have used any pretext he could find to keep her away from danger. Besides, mister CIA-guy looked like he wasn't in the best shape and she wanted to have a look at where he had been shot and see if there was anything she could do to help him. The man deserved it. If it hadn't been for him, her partners would have died and who knows what would have happened to her. Thanks to his knowledge of the building, the agent had even been able to provide Illya with directions to find the radio transmitter and reach the control room as well as information on the number of guards and how to avoid them. The other reason that had convinced her to stay put was that Napoleon would be left alone and she wanted to be able to keep an eye on him and talk to him if he woke up. She would lock the door again once Illya was out; that way she would be sure that no one could get in and harm Napoleon.

Once he was done dressing Solo's wounds, Illya got to his feet. Gaby saw him pick up the knife and he turned towards the camera. He was ready. She stared at his black and white image on the screen. His blond hair was damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead, he had a smear of Napoleon's blood on his face, where he had absentmindedly scratched his cheek. He looked tired. Her eyes shifted to the knife in his hand and she thought about the guns the guards would certainly be carrying.

"Please don't get yourself killed."

Gaby cringed inwardly, she had definitely sounded more emotional than she had intended. She almost welcomed Illya's frown and irritated tone.

"I know my job."

"Just be careful, okay?"

His frown lessened slightly. He looked straight into the camera and nodded. A few seconds later, he had disappeared through the opening at the back of the room. Gaby sighed as she engaged the locking mechanism of the door. She could tell Illya was shaken. She had noticed the way he avoided looking at Napoleon's face when he was taking care of his wounds. She could tell he was angry too, and it worried her. She knew how unpredictable and impulsive Illya could be when he was angry. The CIA agent's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Sorry I can't be more helpful, but I think your Russian friend has a better chance than me of reaching the radio room quickly and without attracting the guards' attention."

She turned to look at him. He was sitting up against the wall to the left of the control panel. It struck her how different he seemed now from her first impression of him. Then again, he did undercover work, deceiving appearances were part of his job. Stripped of his cover he seemed to be a rather nice guy.

"You've been extremely helpful already, you deserve to rest for a while. I'm sure my partner will be fine.", she answered with a comforting smile.

He'd better be…

The agent tried to adjust his position and hissed in pain as his back rubbed against one of the pipes running along the wall. Gaby sighed again, she should really be having a look at the man's injuries. Her eyes fell on the scientist's gun which she had set down on the control panel earlier.

Or maybe I should go find Illya. He doesn't have a gun and he might need one…

The agent's voice jerked her out of her thoughts again, but this time it was considerably louder and more urgent. Unfortunately, the warning came too late. She cried out in surprise as she felt something grab her legs and pull violently. Just as she was losing her balance and going down, she understood what was happening.

I didn't hit hard enough…

Gaby fell hard, banging her elbow against the floor. Before she could get up, a hand grabbed her by the hair, pulled her to her feet and roughly pushed her toward the center of the room. She immediately spun around and found herself face to face with the scientist. He was still bleeding from a gash on his scalp and a couple of bumps had sprouted on his head, including a particularly spectacular one with a tuft of hair on top which looked like a palm tree on a desert island. He had the gun in his hand.

"Surprised, Miss Teller? Don't beat yourself up, you did hit me pretty hard, even managed to knock me out. Good thing I have a hard head."

She was surprised indeed, and he definitely had an incredibly hard head. She had been sure that she had hit him with enough force to crack his skull.

He motioned for her to move closer to the wall against which the CIA agent was sitting up.

"That way I'll be able to keep an eye on you both. I don't want anyone sneaking up on me, this time."

Without turning around, the scientist stepped backwards until he reached the control panel, He flicked a switch and Gaby heard the distant wail of an alarm. Then he pressed a button, activated the microphone and spoke calmly, his eyes never leaving Gaby's face.

"Kuryakin has escaped, find him and bring him to me. You may rough him up a little but I want him alive. He still has some unfinished business he needs to attend to."

He switched off the microphone, glanced at the screen and smiled.

"I see Kuryakin took the time to dress his partner's wounds. Good thing Solo hasn't bled out, we'll be able to pick up where we left off once my men find Kuryakin. And once that's taken care of, I will kill you, Miss Teller. Right in front of Kuryakin. What? You didn't think I was going to let you go free after your little stunt, did you?"

Gaby glared at him. What had she been thinking. She should have slit the man's throat with the scalpel while he was unconscious. She had been too preoccupied with Napoleon's fate, then too busy talking to Illya.

Still aiming the gun at them, the scientist walked over to a small cabinet, opened a drawer and pulled out two pairs of handcuffs which he tossed toward Gaby.

"Since we don't want any more hmm…accidents, I'll let you cuff your new friend to that pipe above his head, then you will cuff yourself to that other pipe right here."

With no other choice but to comply, Gaby picked up the handcuffs and walked over to the CIA agent. He couldn't suppress a gasp of pain as she raised his arms above his head to wrap the cuffs around the pipe and clip the second cuff around his wrist. Then she cuffed herself to a length of pipe to the right of the agent. The scientist stepped closer to her, dragging the chair behind him. He checked her cuffs, making sure they were tight enough and pushed the chair against the back of her legs, forcing her to sit down.

"Make yourself comfortable, Miss Teller. You won't be going anywhere."

He went to check the CIA agent's handcuffs. Then, he stepped back, apparently satisfied, and gave an exaggerated sigh.

"Now", he said, looking down at the CIA agent. "I think there are some things we need to discuss, young man."

Unknown location, Illya's p.o.v.

Illya was lost, and very much pissed off. Everything had been going relatively well until he had reached the stairs leading to the room where the radio transmitter was hidden. Thanks to the information provided by the American, he had managed to move quickly without encountering any guards. Then all hell had broken loose. The sudden, deafening blare of an alarm had almost made him jump out of his skin. A few seconds later he had heard shouts and footsteps coming his way and had had no choice but to turn back and try to get as far as he could from the guards. After several minutes of half-crouched running and silent cursing, he had stopped to assess the situation. Someone had activated the alarm, which meant that someone knew he had escaped. And if that someone knew he had escaped, it meant that they had been or still were in the control room. Precisely where he had told Gaby to stay because he had thought she would be safer there.

Good thinking, Illya…

He needed to get to the control room, and fast. The problem was that he had no idea how to get there. The convoluted detour he had made to escape the guards had caused him to lose his bearings. He had tried to trace his steps back but couldn't seem to find the damn stairs from which he had started. He had been wandering for a few minutes when he started hearing footsteps again. Running footsteps. Someone knew he was there. As silently as he could he turned the corner of the corridor and flattened himself against the wall. He waited, willing his hammering heart to quiet down. The footsteps stopped abruptly and he heard the sound of a door opening and slamming shut almost immediately after. Hesitantly, Illya left his hiding spot. Judging by the footsteps he had heard, it had been just one man. Maybe he could overpower him and get his hands on a gun. He stepped back into the corridor and carefully approached the only door. Slowly, he pressed down on the handle and cracked the door open. He risked a glance inside and almost smiled. He was looking at a restroom. That explained the running footsteps. He could hear the man relieving himself at the back of the room. Getting his hands on that gun was going to be easier than he had expected. Illya took one last glance over his shoulder to check that no one was coming from the other side of the corridor…and found himself looking at the butt of a handgun. He didn't even have time to see his opponent before the butt of the gun smashed into the side of his head. The blow wasn't strong enough to crack his skull but still enough to stun him. Staggering away from the door, he didn't even see the second blow coming. This time he fell to his knees, awkwardly raising his hands to protect his head. He felt a knee driven into his back and he toppled forward. His attacker used his weight to pin him down and pulled his arms behind his back, first the right arm, then the left one. Illya's hazy thoughts suddenly cleared as he heard the distinctive clicking sound and felt the metal around his wrists. Handcuffs. The pressure on his back disappeared and he was able to roll to a sitting position. The guard, who looked almost as tall as him and slightly bigger, had his gun pointed at Illya's face.

"Get up, Kuryakin, someone's expecting you."

As Illya awkwardly got to his feet, the meaning of the guard's words sunk in. Their captor was still alive. He was the one who had activated the alarm. And Gaby was with him. The guard grabbed him by the elbow and shoved him forward. As Illya started walking, he contemplated the irony of the situation. The man was probably taking him to the very room he had been looking for. The only problem was that his hands were cuffed behind his back and he had a gun pointed at the back of his head. All that because he had been too distracted by the sound of someone emptying their bladder. He could think of more glorious ways of getting caught. Barely managing to bottle up his frustration and anger, he started thinking of a way to get rid of his close escort once the man had guided him where he wanted to be. His head was throbbing where he had been hit and he had to make an extra effort to concentrate. At least the alarm had stopped blaring.

Unknown location, Gaby's p.o.v.

"Sorry, will you excuse me one second?"

Gaby watched as the scientist walked over to the control panel and switched off the alarm.

"It gets on my nerves after a while.", he said, winking at her. Then he returned his attention to the CIA agent.

"So, tell me. Who are you? Actually no, no don't tell me, let me guess. It's more fun that way and it will pass the time until Kuryakin gets here."

Gaby felt her pulse speed up. She didn't like the cruel smile on the man's face and the way he was looking at the agent.

"Since you're helping them I assume you must be one of them, but Miss Teller didn't recognize you so you don't work with her, and you're clearly American. Maybe CIA then. I know they've always been interested in my work. And to think I would never have suspected you if you hadn't decided to get involved and spoil my fun. But tell me, am I on the right track so far?"

The agent stared at him defiantly and remained silent. It didn't seem to bother the scientist who went on.

"And since you're still alive after taking a bullet in the chest that had to be close to your heart and another bullet at close range in the back, my guess is that you're wearing a bulletproof vest. Am I right?"

Again, the agent remained silent.

" You're not very talkative. Too bad, I'm just going to have to test my theory then."

As he uttered these words, the scientist took a couple of steps back. Then he brought the gun up and shot the CIA agent in the chest. Gaby flinched as the gun went off. The agent let out a weird strangled sound as the bullet hit him, then he started gasping for breath.

"I heard it feels like getting punched by a heavyweight boxing champion or being hit with a baseball bat. What do you think?"

Still getting no answer from the gasping agent, the scientist turned to Gaby and smiled.

"I suppose he hasn't made up his mind yet."

Then he shifted his aim slightly to the right of the agent's chest and shot him again. This time he was rewarded with a cry of pain.

"Ooo, that really hurt, didn't it? Are you sure you still don't want to answer me? It would be a shame if I had to shoot you again in the exact same spot", the scientist said as he brought the gun up a third time.

"Yes…it hurts…", the agent answered between gasps.

As she heard the pain in the agent's voice, Gaby couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She felt partly responsible for what was happening to him and she desperately wanted to help him but she knew nothing she could say would stop the sadistic monster.

"I bet it hurts", the scientist went on. "You probably have a couple of broken ribs and possible internal bleeding. But I think we can do even better than that. Let's see what happens if I shoot you where you're not wearing any bulletproof clothing."

Gaby saw the CIA agent's eyes widen in fear and follow the barrel of the gun as it shifted toward his right leg.

"No!"

Just as she shouted, the gun went off. The agent let out a sharp scream and his face contorted in a grimace of pain. Gaby noticed his cuffed hands were balled up so tight that his knuckles were white. Her eyes shifted to his leg where a small bloodstain was slowly growing larger.

Please Illya, get us out of here…

Unknown location, Illya's p.o.v.

They had only been walking for a few minutes when Illya spotted the staircase he had been looking for. The guard pushed him up the steps and down a corridor. Thanks to the CIA guy's directions, Illya knew where he was, getting to the control room from there would be easy. But first he needed to get rid of the guard. Halfway across the corridor he abruptly stopped walking. He felt the gun bump slightly against the back of his head as the surprised guard failed to stop in time. Perfect. Now he knew exactly where the gun was and he could deduce the position of the guard and the distance that separated them. He ducked and moved his head to the side so that the hand holding the gun would rest on his shoulder and at the same time he thrust his heel as hard as he could into what he estimated to be the guard's groin. His foot connected with something and Illya heard a strangled gasp. Good. The gun clattered to the floor. Even better. Illya spun around. The man was still standing but he was too busy making sure that everything was still intact to pay attention to him. Illya closed the distance between them and headbutted the guard in the nose. The man's hands flew to his face and Illya seized the opportunity to ram a knee into his gut. This time the big guard fell to his hands and knees, gasping for breath. Illya didn't waste any time, he knelt down in front of the man, pushed his knee against the guard's left shoulder and slid his opposite heel behind the guard's right armpit until his knee and heel connected. Then he let himself fall forward, putting all his weight on the guard, until the man lay flat on his belly. At the same time he slipped his right foot into the hollow of his left knee, trapping the guard's right arm and neck between his legs. It definitely wasn't his favorite version of this choke but with his hands cuffed behind his back it was the best he could do. He tightened the choke, compressing the guard's carotid arteries and waited. It didn't take long before the man lost consciousness. Illya didn't let go. He wasn't taking any chances. After a couple of minutes, he finally let go of the guard's limp body. He quickly searched the man's pockets – as quickly as his cuffed hands allowed him to – and found the key to open the handcuffs. Unfortunately the guard had cuffed him in such a way that the locks were facing up. Even Cowboy couldn't have picked those open. Illya cursed softly. How was he supposed to use a gun or a knife with his hands cuffed behind his back? He knew he wasn't flexible enough to slide his hands under his butt and bring the handcuffs to the front. He tried it anyway but only managed to lose his balance and hurt his shoulder. He stood up, extremely annoyed and slightly embarassed, thankfully, no one had been there to witness his ridiculous acrobatics. He took the handcuffs key with him; Gaby might be able to free him if he got to her in time. Thinking about Gaby reminded him that he had no time to waste. As he hurried toward the control room he heard what sounded like a gunshot. He finally reached the short corridor leading to the room, and heard another gunshot. And a loud scream of pain. A man's voice.

At least it's not Gaby…

He quickly walked to the door and, straining his shoulders, managed to use his hands to press down on the handle. Thankfully the door didn't make any noise as he cracked it open. He let go of the handle and took a look inside. A man was standing with his back to him and had a gun in his hand. Judging by the burn scars, he was looking at their captor. Gaby was sitting on a chair. She was cuffed to a length of pipe but looked unharmed. A man was slumped against the wall with his hands also cuffed to a pipe above his head. Probably the CIA agent. He looked like he had been tortured and he was bleeding from a hole in his leg.

"I bet you're really starting to regret helping your fellow agents. Tell me, was it worth it?"

Illya recognized the cruel, taunting voice instantly. He felt his blood boil as he watched the man with the gun move closer to the CIA agent and viciously step on the gunshot wound in his leg.

Sadistic bastard…

Unknown location, Gaby's p.o.v.

Gaby averted her gaze, unable to watch as the scientist started crushing the agent's wounded leg with his foot. The poor man's screams were enough to make her feel sick. She desperately wanted to get out of this room. Her eyes shifted to the door and her heart missed a beat.

Illya..?

Her partner was standing silently behind the slightly ajar door and was looking straight at her. A wave of relief washed over her. Illya was alive. Illya had managed to escape the guards. Illya would get them out of this nightmare. He motioned with his head toward the scientist who was taking a break from his torture session to taunt the CIA agent. Gaby understood immediately what her partner had in mind. Of course, he would need a diversion. She took a deep breath and started sobbing. Her plan was to make as much noise as possible and monopolize the scientist's attention to allow Illya to sneak up on him. As her sobbing grew in intensity, she decided to add a touch of authenticity by loudly imploring her captor to stop torturing the agent. The scientist turned his attention to her. It was working. He smiled. His hideous, cruel, lopsided smile.

"You know what, I think you're right, Miss Teller. The poor young man is in terrible pain. Maybe it's time to end his suffering. After all, I don't really need him when I have you and you partners to play with."

He winked at her and placed the barrel of the gun against the agent's forehead.

End of chapter 8.

(as always thanks for the reviews :) )