The doctor attached the mechanism to a small square opening in the side of the weapon and laughed maniacally to himself, as it fit perfectly.
"And then the target will be annihilated without any damage done to it's surroundings. Now I wonder...what shall my first target be for our little test?" He stood, rubbing his scar with his thumb again, then pointed his index finger in the air. "Ah yes what better target but the birthplace of democracy, the city of Athens. It will signal the beginning of the end for democracy and the birth of Thrush's domination of the world!" He laughed aloud again, amused at the irony.
Napoleon looked left to his partner seated next to him; the Russian was struggling slightly and suddenly slumped over, leaning against him, as he seemed to barely have the strength to hold himself upright.
Then Napoleon felt it, Illyas hand touching his; shoving something into his fingers. He discerned from the the shape of it that it was a loc pic...the sly Russian must have had it secreted away in the back of his trousers.
Stavros continued fussing with the Antikythera, adjusting the settings and unaware of the two now free agents nodding to each other as they sprang from where they were seated, diving towards their guards and tackling them. They wrestled, getting in punches and being punched.
Stronghilos hurried in panic as he continued to adjust his settings, not willing to chance his plan being foiled.
One guard was on top of Napoleon, sitting on his chest, pummeling the agent with his fists, Illya had just dispatched the other, and flew at him, getting the man's head in a scissor lock, flipping him over to deliver a vicious chop to his throat. The Russian's eyes were drawn to the crystal cannon as it began to glow, then pulse rhythmically.
"Ni khuya sebe_no fucking way!" Illya cursed, shocked that his plan hadn't worked.
Stavros stepped back with a look of wicked satisfaction as the weapon powered up. "Yes!" he cried, the world will be ours!"
The solar cannon began to vibrate, shaking violently. It fired a burst of blinding white light, so bright that they all were forced to cover their eyes with their arms. Stronghilos howled with delight.
Napoleon delivered a right cross to the remaining guard, knocking him out cold, just as Astarte threw herself at Illya, screeching like a wild animal as she landed on his back, pulling out the stiletto, forcefully driving it down into the Russian and withdrawing it for a second attack.
Suddenly the ground beneath them began to sway, the solar cannon rocked violently. going out of control, this time it started firing short bursts of light in different directions as it began to rock back and forth.
"NO NO! This cannot be!" Stronghilos screamed.
The ground lurched, making the walls of the ancient fortress begin to teeter.
The death ray, pulsing and glowing pivoted in it support, completely turning around as it fired another burst of light, hitting the doctor, burning a hole completely through his chest. Stronghilos stood for just a second, with a look of complete shock in his eyes before he collapsed dead beside the device.
Napoleon grabbed the Antikythera, ripping it from the weapon and deactivating it as the earthquake continued to rock the ground beneath their feet.
Astarte screamed again as Illya staggered, trying to get the lunatic woman off his back; he turned their backs to a wall, slamming her against it several times. The ground beneath them surged and Napoleon watched as the wall behind Kuryakin and the girl collapsed backward, the momentum of the Russian shoving her against it taking the two of them with it as it fell over the rocky edge.
Napoleon fell with the next jolt, and as the as the aftershocks ended he pulled himself up, running to the spot where Illya had disappeared.
"ILLYA!" He yelled, not seeing him amidst the clouds of dust below.
"Illya?" he called again in disbelief, thinking his partner was gone.
The dust began to settle, and he heard a moan coming from below.
"Illya?"
He spotted the blond head sticking out from the the rubble, and climbed down carefully while bits of debris scattered from beneath his feet, sending them cascading down.
He found the Russian as he lay on his back, realizing the body of Astarte was beneath him and had broken his fall. He felt Illyas neck with a shaking hand for a pulse...he was alive.
Napoleon slapped his partner lightly on his dust covered cheek, "Illya, buddy wake up?"
The Russian looked at him a little cross-eyed."Mmmm Napoelon? Did you stop it?"
"Yes, come on tovarisch, we gotta get you out of here."
The cuts on Illyas face and other wounds were bleeding again, as Napoleon removed the chunks of stone and brick to free him.
"Can you move? You have any pain?'
Illya said nothing until Napoleon tried to lift him up and that was when he let out a yelp.
"Stoi...stop," He breathed heavily as he spoke, "it is my back, move slowly"
Napoleon supported Illya lifting him forward. Then he looked behind the Russian, protruding up near his scapula through his trapezius muscle was Astarte's stiletto.
"It's her knife tovarisch."
"Take it out," Illya groaned.
"But..."
"Just do it."
Napoleon pulled off his jacket first, ripping the linen apart as he knew he'd need a bandage and bit his lip as he pulled the narrow blade from beneath the Russian's skin.
Illya grimaced, sucking in air between his teeth as the knife slipped free, it was not deep wound, nor life threatening that Napoleon could see as he wrapped the cloth around it, tying it off under the arm.
"Easy," Illya cautioned, "I think there may be some broken ribs as well."
Napoleon looked down the hill, realizing it would be easier to go up then down, and helped his friend to his feet, supporting him as they climbed back to the top.
Once reaching the ruins of the plaza Napoleon set Illya down on the ground to rest. Kuryakin looked with dismay over at the weapon laying on its side, seemingly intact.
"It has to be destroyed Napoleon." he concluded, "here, take this."
He flipped open the heel of one on one of his shoes, withdrawing a grey ball of plastique, handing it to his partner.
Napoleon took the explosive solemnly, knowing that Illya was not happy about having to destroy a rare antiquity, but the reality was, it was too dangerous.
"So this was your plan? A little vague wasn't it?" He smiled jokingly.
"No it was not." Illya opened the other heel, taking out a small bronze gear wheel., " I had dissected the Antikythera and removed this piece." He held it up to the light between his thumb and index finger.
"It was the only one different from their other parts, inscribed on it is the image of the sun and the ancient Greek word for power. I presumed that it was instrumental to the workings of the cannon, and assumed wrongly that the piece having been removed, would prevent it from powering up."
"Well I think it did something to it, Stavros was upset that it seemed to be misfiring. It definitely wasn't working the way he had anticipated...do you think it might have triggered the earthquake?"
Illya shrugged, wincing in a moment of pain, "It seemed terribly coincidental? One wonders if the activation of this device was what may have precluded the earthquake and subsequent wave that engulphed Atlantis?"
Napoleon smiled, "You and your Atlantis myth. Well I guess we'll never know? Let's hope that it didn't hit Athens, but since that remains to be seen, let's blow this thing and get out of here, you need medical treatment my friend."
"You are correct on one count Napoleon, but I will be fine." Illya insisted as he hiked himself up to help. His partner ordered him to sit again, and he complied without argument, feeling worse than he was willing to admit. As he sat, he peered over the ledge realizing that the body of Astarte was gone.
"Napoleon, I am afraid Astarte was not quite as dead as you thought she was."
"What?"
"She is gone."
Solo shook his head in disgust. "All the more reason for us to get rid of this thing." he said, turning his attention back to the weapon, dividing the plastique into smaller portions, placing them at different spots on the weapon, then set the timer with his watch and stepped back.
"5-4-3-2-1," he counted down; there was a hiss and smoke. The crystals began to crack, crumbling; the shattered pieces falling to the ground, leaving nothing but the skeleton of a frame. Napoleon then picked up one of the guard's rifles smashing that part of the cannon as well.
Illya stared at the Antikythera that lay on the ground beside him. He picked up a rock, raising it in his hand to bring it down on the precious antiquity.
Suddenly he felt Napoleon grabbing his wrist, stopping him.
"No, it's useless now without the crystal cannon. Let it stay intact as an astrological computer and nothing more. We'll give it back to Hektor and Spyros."
"Thank you Napoleon, " Illya sighed, " that makes me feel better; I was torn over destroying it."
Solo helped his partner to his feet. "But you were ready to do what had to be done, and that's what counts enh. partner mine?" He smiled.
They returned to the jeep, finding a radio under the dashboard; allowing them to contact the Nereid Thetis. Much to their relief, they found out from Hektor that Athens was unharmed. They were still anchored in the port off Fira.
The lights from the cannon were somehow perceived as lightning and related to the earthquake and a minor eruption of Palea Kameni, the old volcano in the center of the caldera as it spewed forth sulphurous steam.
"Well that covers us for a good explanation," Napoleon sighed in relief. "Can you hang in for a trip back to Sronghilos' villa, our communicators are there and I think we need to report in on this to the old man?'
Illya nodded quietly, not uttering a complaint, holding his side while the bumpy ride jostled him as the Antikythera lay safely in his lap.
They arrived at the villa, Napoleon located their pens while Illya nosed about Stronghilos' workroom.
"There will be useful information in these," he said, pointing to the computers. He grabbed a pack of ciagarettes he saw lying on one of the desks, a Turkish brand and that surprised him given the political discord the countries of Greece and Turkey. Illya pulled one out, lighting it and taking a long drag on it, then he coughed hard, grabbing his side. He decided that wasn't a good idea, and not finding an ashtray, he extinguished the butt on the sole of his shoe.
Napoleon walked into the room waving their two communicators at his partner. "Open Channel D overseas relay and scramble please, "he spoke into one of them.
"Mr. Solo, I was becoming a bit concerned, what have you to report?"
"Sir, the Antikythera was apparently a controlling mechanism for an ancient Greek solar powered laser, sort of a death ray. Dr. Stronghilos and his cohorts have been dispatched and the laser has been destroyed, but not before it was fired, targeting the city of Athens. Apparently it missed, not firing as Stronghilos had planned, since Mr. Kuryakin made some, shall we say, minor adjustments to the device."
"The Antikythera is intact, except for one gear that he removed." Napoleon hesitated, " it's a legitimate piece of Greek history and is virtually useless as a control for a weapon that no longer exists. Mr. Kuryakin has informed me that it is still an astronomical calendar after all and of great archaeological importance. Might it be possible for us to return it to Mr. Michaelides and Mr. Giannopolous? It was after all their find."
There was a moment of silence at the other end, then Waverly made his pronouncement. "Though it is a valuable antiquity, it is still related to a very dangerous weapon. Our scanners picked up the powerful beams emitted by it, they landed at coordinates located in the Aegean at a distance of approximately 400 km. away from your location. Luckily there were no land masses in the vicinity, so no apparent harm has been done."
"The potential still exists for the mechanism to be used by Thrush, if in the event they were to develop their own version of the this death ray device. I am afraid we need to hang onto it for safe keeping. I will be sending in a cleanup team from our office in Rome to gather Stonghilos' belongings. You however, should keep the mechanism in your possession for safe-keeping. I expect you to bring it to New York upon your and Mr. Kuryakins return. How are you both physically, any injuries?"
"Mr. Kuryakin needs some attention, nothing major though."
"Why does that not surprise me, that young man seems to be quite injury prone? Very well then, I will see you for your debrief upon your return and no dawdling Mr. Solo."
"I understand sir, thank you. Solo out."
"Well that settles that." Illya said, "Perhaps someday when the world is rid of Thrush and their ilk; the Antikythera can be rediscovered?"
"Why Illya Kuryakin, that's rather optimistic of you?"
"Shhsush." the Russian smiled, "do not let that get out, it would not be good for my reputation."
Napoleon managed a little first aid on his partner, having found supplies and bandages in the villa, then the two made their way slowly down the cliff to the dock, having made arrangements for Aeneas to meet them there.
"Geiá sou! Ky'rios Solo! Eímai tóso eftychis pou sa kai Ky'rios Nickó_hello! Mister Solo! I am glad that you and Mister Nicko are alright," the young man called enthusiastically to them from the dingy.
"Schedón ectáxei_almost alright," Illya answered as he walked down the stone stairs of the dock, stepping gingerly across to the boat, holding his arm to his injured side.
"Eíste kakó Ky'rios Nickó_you are hurt Mister Nickó?"
"Tha éinai me chará Aineías_ I will be fine Aeneas." He then looked at Napoleon's blood-stained shirt,"We will both be fine, thank you."
Once on board the Nereid Thetis it was decided they would sail to Thessaloniki to return to the airport there. Waverly had ordered a private jet to pick them up, from there they would stop over in Rome for a debrief with the agent-in-charge for the clean up, then finally on to New York and back to the real world.
There had been no contact with home while on the mission, and both agents had driven the thought from their heads that Napoleon was due to be married soon. They were below deck cleaning themselves up, checking their wounds while trying to bring down the adrenaline levels.
Illya lay on the bunk stripped down to his shorts as Aeneas, who was studying to be a doctor, examined him, both agents humoring the young man. They could have seen to their own care, but thought it good to let Aeneas feel useful as all he had done was ferry everyone back and forth in the dingy during the course of their assignment.
Illya's wounds were cleaned, bandaged and stitched with a skilled hand, then treated with an antibiotic injection, luckily his ribs were only bruised and not broken. Aeneas, being quite clever managed to give the Russian a shot of morphine before he could protest, knowing what was best for him was a painless sleep.
Napoleon's injuries were small by comparison and needed only cleaning and bandaging and once that was taken care of, Aeneas left the agents alone.
Illya's eyelids were beginning to droop, even though he was fighting it. "You do remember, " Kuryakin said sleepily, " that your wedding is nearly two weeks away?" That question brought Napoleon back to reality.
"I know. I was trying not to think about it as there had been other things on my mind." he chuckled. " saving the world takes a bit of concentration.
Illya yawned, fighting back the effects of the morphine that was giving him a pleasant buzz, one that he could not control in spite of his best efforts. He hated such medication, but at the moment he could do nothing but enjoy the euphoria it had now induced.
He reminded himself to have a talk with Aeneas about his bedside manner and sneaking an injection to an unsuspecting patient.
"My wife will not be pleased," he said to Napoleon as he pointed to the visible cuts and bruises on his cheek and chin, " perhaps this will be healed before your nuptials. Bella howevver, will be happy, at leasst your face iss not..."he never finished the sentence as the morphine had finally kicked in.
Napoleon smiled, shaking his head at the snoring Russian. He paraphrased the words to an old Welsh song as he drew a sheet over Illya. "Sleep my friend and peace attend thee all through the night." He brushed his hand softly through the blond hair, knowing it was only possible when his friend was out cold from drugs.
Solo was feeling restless and decided to go up on deck. There were things on his mind, such as the fact that Astarte Lovely had escaped. He hoped she wouldn't continue in her vendetta against Kuryakin, but unfortunately he had a feeling she'd be back to haunt them, and UNCLE. He had doubts the clean up team would find her and suspected she had already mader her escape from Sontorini.
The issue of the Antikythera bothered him and he wished like Illya, that it could be returned to its finders; he hadn't given Hektor and Spyros the news yet and wasn't looking forward to doing so as he was sure they'd be upset.
The waters were a bit choppy making Solo glad that Illya was asleep rather than having to deal with being seasick.
He took over the helm for a bit, letting the power and freedom of the wind in the sails renew his spirits. Hektor stood beside him, gazing out to the water in a silent mood. He had seen Napoleon carrying the Antikythera with him when he boarded the boat, but was hesitant to ask him about it's disposition.
"Napoleon, the device...will you be giving it back to us?"
He sighed before answering, not happy about what he had to say, as he like Illya believed the piece belonged in a museum after all, the Greeks had said it was a national treasue.
Hektor watched the American agent's reaction to his question.
"Aftó eínai entáxei o filos mou. Katalavaíno_that is alright my friend. I understand."
"Sas efcharistó_ thank you. I appreciate that, maybe someday it will can be returned to you, but right now it's too dangerous, or so say the powers that be."
The winds began to pick up more as off in the horizon the sky was beginning to darken.
"Looks like we may have a storm my friend," Hektor said as he slapped Napoleon firmly on the back, "You are all right to handle this yes?"
Napoleon smiled at him, remembering the many times he'd been out alone in some powerful squalls on his own 30 ft. yacht, the Pursang.
He piloted the Thetis to the northern end of the island when his communicator sounded. It was an emergency alert signal. Hektor grabbed the wheel, taking over for Napoleon as he pulled the pen from his pocket.
"Solo here."
Waverly's voice was anxious as he responded.
"Mr. Solo we have detected strong seismic activity in the area near where the energy beam from the weapon struck. It registered 7.5 on the Richter scale, with continuing after shocks. There is now the possibility of a dangerous tsnumai heading in your direction. The authorities have been notified in an estimated 400 km. radius."
It was too late as Napoleon looked to the port side of the boat; there was a huge wave hurtling towards them. He spun the helm, trying to steer the Thetis straight into it, but there wasn't enough time.
The wave slammed broadside into the Nereid Thetis, sending her over to her side as she began to founder. They were all were thrown across the deck and into the sea, driven down by the impact and immense power.
Napoleon was dragged beneath the water, holding what breath he could until his lungs felt as though they were ready to explode. He struggled, kicking and paddling to regain the surface, until his head shot up through the water. He gasped heavily and began to nervously tread water as he looked about searching for the others. He hated being in the water, and oxymoron since he loved sailing...
Suddenly there was a flash of lightning, and the skies opened up sending down torrential rains. Winds blew the sea wildly and the thunder rolled like the beating of ancient drums in the heavens above him.
Several hundred years away Spyros and Aeneas waved as they fought against the sea, swimming towards him. Hektor's head surfaced beside him, bobbing up and down in the waves as he tried to keep himself beside the American.
Napoleon suddenly realized there was no sign of Illya. He turned his head back and forth in a panic, searching for any sign of the Russian.
"Shit!...ILLYA!" He called. "ILLYA!" There was no sign, nothing. Napoleon dove below the water, desperately searching for the boat, thinking his friend might still be trapped inside, there could be a pocket of air?" He and the others dove again and again, but the wave and the storm had churned up the sea bottom, making it impossible to see now in the once crystal clear water.
He dove one last time with dogged determination, but without success."Illya, oh Jesus?" Je whispered his friends name one last time.
"Éla_come on!" Hektor called, " we must go!"
The four of them stayed together, grabbing onto remnants of the Thetis' mast and swam for the north shore of the island nearly a mile away. They crawled out of the water amid the debris left from the backwash of the wave, collapsing in the gravelly black sand, heaving to catch their breath.
"See Zeus's anger subsides, " Spyros said pointing to the sky.
It was still dark in the distance as lightning bolts streaked across like wretched fingers. The storm was blowing off now and people who had retreated away from the beach when warned of the wave came out to help Solo and the others, bringing them towels and glasses of ouzo.
.
Illya was having a wonderful dream about his red-headed wife Elliott' they were in a garden on a sunny day with a picnic basket and blanket spread out, there was the laughter of children surrounding them...children. Another child was on the way. He smiled, but he could only see a blond head and a red head playing together. The new child would have red hair...but was it a boy or a girl, he could not tell?
Illya was ripped from his bliss as he was thrown violently from the bunk to to the ceiling of the cabin. He opened his eyes for a brief moment, but then felt a sharp pain in his head and passed out. When he awoke he was in total darkness, confused as to what had happened and couldn't get his bearings. Illya stumbled forward...in water. It was rising quickly, rushing from his ankles to his knees in seconds, soon it was up to his thighs. The Thetis was sinking and he needed to get out now.
The water level was to his chest when he finally found the hatch; he took a deep breath, swimming out. The water was murky and clouded, making it difficult to see. He felt a momentary panic not knowing which was was up, but took his best guess as to which direction it was. If Illya guessed wrong; he would drown.
His lungs began to strain as he searched for the surface, the momentum of his paddling finally propelling him through the water, breaking through to the top as he gasped for air. He shook his hair from his eyes, while the fierce waves slapped against him, stinging his skin. There was no sign of Napoleon or the others, but he called out for them anyway.
The morphine still in his system seemed to sap all his energy, making it difficult for him to stay afloat in the water. He could see the shoreline of the island and began to swim for it, but soon found himself in trouble. Illya was a very strong swimmer, but the combination of the drugs, the blood loss and the injury to his shoulder worked against him. He became exhausted, not even having the strength to tread water; he started to go under.
Illya Kuryakin took his last breath of air as he slipped quietly under the waves, clearing his head of all thoughts as he prepared himself for the end. He could hold his breath no longer as water began to enter his lungs. He closed his eyes, but then he felt a something bump against him, startling them open again.
He felt air against his face as he was pushed to the surface...then heard the squeals and clicks of a dolphin. The creature maintained contact with the Russian, keeping him from sinking back to the depths.
Kuryakin wrapped one of his arms around the mammal, grabbing hold of it's dorsal fin as it glided through the water. It was taking him towards the beach."
He could not believe the miracle that was happening to him and uttered a few words of thanks in Russian.
"Spacibo Bogu za sozdani takogo prekrasnogo sushchesta_thank you God for creating such a wonderful creature."
He held onto the dolphin as it brought him closer to shore, releasing his hold when he could feel the rocky bottom beneath his feet. He turned in the water facing the animal, speaking to it softly in Greek as he rubbed his hand to it's nose.
"An ídios o Poseidónas pou steílate, tóte tha prosférei tis efcharistíes niy pros ton ídio kai eseís o filos mou_ if Poseidon himself sent you, then I offer my thanks to him and you my friend."
The dolphin swam off, then shot up out of the water splashing it's tail; it appeared to dance on the water as it moved backwards away from the Russian and then disappeared as it dove into the Aegean.
He could see a small crowd gathered at the other end of the beach, and guessing by the color of the strand being black that he was at Baksedes at the northern end of the island. Illya walked slowly towards them, his feet crunching on the small volcanic pebbles beneath them.
There were a few men wrapped in towels sitting down surrounded by helpful locals as well as debris that must have washed up during the storm...wicker chairs, destroyed beach umbrellas, bits of clothing and driftwood were scattered everywhere.
As he got closer; he was pleased to see that it was Napoleon and the Greeks.
"Fine." There was a caustic tone to his voice as he walked up behind his partner, "leave me to drown after taking the trouble to save me at the fortress, he clicked his tongue jokingly, "you are a conundrum Napoleon Solo."
Napoleon looked up, smiling at the sight of his partner standing there in his briefs.
"Tovarisch!" He pushed himself up, grabbing the Russian in a bear hug.
"Napoleon I am alright...I am fine!" Illya laughed.
"Well I didn't think you were, I thought I'd lost you."
"I am like a bad penny; I keep turning up."
"No, never a bad penny my friend."
Napoleon finally released him, stepping back looking at his skinny partner, beat up bloody and scarred standing there is his clinging wet briefs.
"New look?"
"Yes," he smiled, "I believe it is called tighty-whities?"
"Well I think the wet look is a little bit revealing? He said tossing his towel to the Russian.
Napoleon laughed, shaking his head; amazed and relieved they had both cheated death again.
"Come my friend, " Illya hid his smile, " time to go home."
Napoleon placed his hand on his friend's uninjured shoulder and together they and the Greeks walked the distance to the town of Oia, around 3 km. away where they managed to get a taxi to take them back to Firostefani. The UNCLE clean-up crew had arrived at Stronghilos' villa and they'd hitch a ride with them to the Rome office.
There was no sign of Astarte and Napoleon surmised that she was already long gone and headed who knew where. He was sure they'd not seen the last of her.
Illya scrounged some of Stonghilos' clothing for the trip, and finally he and Napoleon said their good byes to Hektor, Spyros and Aeneas.
"Frontízoume tous fílous mo_take care my friends, " Hektor said as he gave the agents a fierce hug and kisses on each cheek." It is a shame the Antikythera was lost, but at least we are all still alive to remember the tale. Perhaps a new Greek legend will be born?"
"A nai," Illya said, "Échei epistrépsei stin archaía Átlantes_ ah yes, it has returned to the ancient Atlanteans who made it and that is perhaps where it best belongs, in their care."
.
To télos_finis
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author's note: special thanks to Avery for convincing me not to kill off Astarte, to laurose for loving the dolphins and to jkkitty for her enthusiasm and suggestions.