"Call, Mark! Tell him to call the medical chopper. We need them now!" Napoleon reached for Illya and found his arms were pinioned behind his back with heavy shackles. "Look for a key. In the desk or on one of the guards!" Napoleon was desperate to get the irons off.
"Here's one, Napoleon. It was on the big guy." Napoleon grabbed it from his agent. He worked with fumbling fingers to unlock the shackles but found that mud was packed in the keyhole and had dried to the consistency of concrete.
"Napoleon! Mark called. The 'copter is coming. I told him about Illya and his condition. He suggested that we bring him up to the office area. We can get him cleaned up there so the medics can work on him!"
"Okay, then." Napoleon stuffed the key in his pocket. Gently, he knelt down to pick Illya up. It was hard to get a good hold through the slippery muck. "Help me pick him up!" As Napoleon cradled Illya in his arms it was obvious that his partner had lost a dangerous amount of weight. He moved towards the cell door, "Make way!" He yelled. "You stay with the drugged guard," he ordered one agent. To the other one, "Come with me. I need you to open doors and help me on the stairs!" Together they moved rapidly through the long corridors and up to the main level. Eight minutes later they barged into the office.
"Napoleon, the medics should be here any minute," Mark said. He took one look at the mud-caked form in front of him. "Quick, there is a huge shower stall in the apartment that we found, also a large tub."
"Good! Let's start with the shower. While we're tending to him in the shower, start filling the tub. Make sure the water is at body temperature. I don't know what temperature is best for him would keep him from going further into shock.
"Mark, I'm going to need your help. Strip down and get in the shower." Napoleon's voice shook with worry. "I'll pass Illya over to you then I'll strip down. It's going to take both of us to support him as we rinse him off. We've also got to free the locks of mud so we can get him out of these damn shackles!" He called out to the agents gathered outside the door.
Mark stepped into the shower stall and adjusted the water temperature as well as the power of the spray. While a strong, jetted stream might help move the mud off of him faster a slow gentle stream would do less harm to Illya's skin.
Napoleon gently passed Illya over to Mark and stripped out of his clothes. He climbed into the shower and the two men started running water over their stricken friend sluicing the mud off of him. Several times they had to kick the thick goo away from the drain so the water would drain away.
After several minutes, Napoleon and Mark were able to see Illya's hair and skin through the thinning layers of mud. "Hold him steady, Mark. I need to get the key out of my pocket.." Napoleon grabbed his trousers and found the key. "Alright, Mark. Turn him over on his side so I can reach the locks." He inserted the key into the shackles on Illya's left wrist and gave it a twist. Nothing. He tried again. That time he felt the tumblers give and heard the most satisfying click as the lock released. He reached for the right wrist and easily unlocked that cuff.
"Here's hoping the same key works on the ankles!" He reached for one of the cuffs and it released with no problem. The last cuff proved to be stubborn and would not unlock, even after multiple tries. "Damn! Oh well, never mind. We can deal with that later. Mark, turn off the water and let's get him into the tub! We can finish cleaning him there and the buoyancy will put less strain on his body." One of the agents had found some bolt cutters and while he was not able to remove the last ankle cuff he was able to cut through the remaining chain links.
Not once, through the procedure did Illya make a sound, until Napoleon and Mark tried to bring his arms in front of him. For nearly, two months his arms had been locked behind him causing severe stiffness of his shoulders, elbows and wrists. He cried out in pain without regaining consciousness as they lifted him out of the shower and to the tub. Napoleon climbed in first and the men eased Illya into the tub where Napoleon held him with his chest to Illya's back letting his body float freely in the water or as freely one could with no fat for buoyancy.
It wasn't until then that the full extent of Illya's treatment was visible. "What did those bastards do to him? He looks like a holocaust victim! How can anyone recover from that?" one of the agents spoke with barely contained rage.
And he was right. Protruding cheeks made Illya's eyes appear sunken deep into his skull. From his hips down to his knees and ankles, bones protruded grotesquely. The man couldn't have weighed much more than 100 pounds. Horrible deep abrasions ringed the wrists and ankles. Each agent swiped at his eyes to brush away an errant tear.
Mark, still undressed, broke away from the group, "I'm going to kill those bastards!" Before anyone could stop him, and they didn't want to stop him, the sound of flesh beating on flesh was heard.
Napoleon ordered, "Stop him! Mark, stop!"
Mark came back in rubbing his knuckles. "Let, me finish them off Napoleon! How can you let them live seeing what they did to Illya!"
"I know, Mark, but I think the best way to deal with this is to hold them prisoner until Illya is well enough, if he survives this, to decide what he wants to do with them."
He looked down at his friend as his body floated in the water. "We need to get him out of here and ready for the helicopter. Men, find all the towels and blankets you can find. We need to get Illya dried off and keep him warm. Then lay him on the bed. Mark, help me get him out of the tub."
The medics arrived and took over caring for Illya and prepping him for the helicopter ride. As they worked on him, Napoleon and Mark found towels to dry off and got dressed. As they were doing so Mark noticed the gold thread monograms on the towels,TJW. It was the only clue to who the THRUSH official could be. He filed that away for future reference.
The medics hovered over their patient trying to find suitable veins to start life saving IV's. Severe dehydration made it impossible to find a useable vein. When each one was found it collapsed as the needles were being inserted. "Hell we can't even get the jugular vein! If we don't get fluids started I don't think he'll make it Boise."
"We have the right equipment to start an IO, let's do it! We can switch to intravenous after we get him settled in Boise." The medics opened a sterile package and withdrew a large hollow needle and inserted it Illya's shine bone. Immediately they began pumping in saline fluids and dextrose. Illya was loaded onto a gurney complete with IV bottles, blankets, and oxygen.
"Okay, Napoleon. We need to get him to Boise… now!"
Napoleon walked over to the gurney and clasped his friend's hand, noting his fingers were ice cold.
"I'm coming with you!"
"Sorry, Napoleon. You've seen the inside of the 'copter. There's no room for you. We're flying him directly to St. Luke's Hospital. You can catch up with him there." The medic saw the pained look in Napoleon's eyes.
"What are his chances?"
"I don't know, Napoleon. He's in a bad way, but we'll take care of him. St. Luke's is a good hospital. He'll get the best care possible. Now we gotta get out of here. See you soon!" Before anything else could be said they were gone.
Mark looked over to see Napoleon standing motionless as he watched the medics leave. He had never seen the man look so lost and alone.
IO stands for Intraosseous Infusion (IO Infusion): This is the process of injecting fluids, medications, or blood products into the bone using the tibia (shin bone) It allows for fluids to enter the vascular system quickly. Shouldn't be used for more than 24 hours