Act X: Over The Wall

When darkness fell Tuesday night, Illya was ready to go. He had darkened complexion and added a moustache, knowing the bad light would help. Dressed in a black coat and topped with a knit cap he turned off all the lights and waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark and for the household noises to settle down. He spent his time watching the security patrols and their patterns.

It was near midnight when he moved. He slipped out his bedroom window to the narrow ledge that ran the length of the building and used the worn bricks of the walls for finger holds. He sidled over to the downspout not far from his window. When he reached it, he waited for an opportunity in the guards' patrol.

When one came a few minutes later, a statement from Houdini crossed his mind: Safes were built to keep people from getting in, not getting out. "And the same thing can be said for security here," he mumbled to himself when he noticed the lack of interest in the façade of the building on the behalf of the guards. That would work for him now, but getting back would be a whole different affair.

He quickly rappelled down in the side of the building and landed softly in the shadows on the manicured lawn. He appraised his situation then, satisfied, pulled off his dark coat. Underneath was the security guard uniform. The black coat was stashed in the bushes by the downspout.

He kept to the shadows of the building and maintained body language that said he belonged there as he worked is way to the front gate. He knew where he wanted to go to scale the outside wall; his daily strolls had allowed plenty of time to study them.

When he reached the guardhouse he passed it without slowing. He was nearly out the pedestrian gate when a voice stopped him.

"Hey. Where's your partner?"

Illya stopped and waved an arm at the house. "Back there. Sick. Something at dinner. Did you eat in town?"

The guard laughed shortly. "He ate at that hole in the wall place, didn't he? I thought we warned everyone about that dive. You must be from the new bunch."

Eavesdropping on the guards' chatter had paid off. "Yeah, well, he's deaf as well as dumb."

"I'm not surprised. I think that's a requirement to work here. Doucat!" A guard close by snapped to attention.

"Sir?"

"Perimeter patrol." He motioned towards Illya who didn't have a chance to protest.

"Yes, sir." The young man trotted to the agent's side and they walked out together.

"Where's your rifle?" young Doucat asked.

"I won a bet and it's getting cleaned for me," Illya bluffed. He patted a lump on his hip. "I have my own sidearm. Let's split up. This will get done faster and then we can get some coffee." The agent turned from the young man before he could protest.

As Illya walked off alone Doucat stood for a moment with his mouth open to say something. After a second he closed it, shrugged, and went the opposite direction.

As soon as the front gate was out of sight and he was in the area he wanted, Illya pulled out the lump at his hip - a harpoon gun with cable. He knew there was a six foot dead camera area here and confirmed the location by the marks he'd made on the wall.  The only thing he'd have to avoid is the single team roving outside the walls. After listening carefully, he took a chance and shot the cable.

The first launch was successful. Quickly, he scaled the wall and rolled over the top in a low-profile maneuver and gathered the cable for his return trip. When the Russian dropped to the ground he ran low to the woods. He moved just inside the tree line until he was close to where he thought Napoleon was camped. He checked his watch; the electronic scanners were still enabled.

Illya entered the woods cautiously and tried not to rustle the brush. He slipped through easily at first but the shrubbery became thicker the deeper the entered. Finally, a sweep indicated he was out of electronic surveillance range and he hunkered down and pulled out his communicator pen. "Prince to pauper," he whispered.

It took a few moments for the reply. "Pauper here. And I'm surprised the Prince has graced us with his presence."

"There are new complications. The plan has to be moved up 24 hours." Illya heard voices in the background. The news was not going over well.

"Can do, but only half the serfs will be here. You may be on your own to get out. And there's a possibility that you may be uncovered. There's a missing bloodhound on the loose, last seen in the homeland."

Illya mulled that one over and caught the drift. "Understood. Prince out." Marcus wasn't taking any chances if he had investigators on Talia's tail. That puts both of us in danger. He pocketed the pen and turned go back when a noise to one side made him freeze; something was moving in the brush close by. He waited, his hands ready for attack, when a large shadow breezed by. Illya exhaled - it was a deer. Just as he straightened to move, a smaller form crashed through the brush just behind the bigger shadow.

"Hey! Who's there?" The security patrol had heard it, too.

The agent had to take cover. He lunged towards a large stand of brush as several gunshots split the night calm and white-hot pain seared his upper arm.

He stumbled and fell to his knees, then hugged his arm tightly to his chest. The cause of the second crash in the brush and the guards' attention crossed his path - a smaller deer. Another volley erupted behind the injured agent and the smaller deer dropped at Illya's feet. The frightened look in the creature's eye quickly faded to dullness with its death. Illya felt another bullet pluck his jacket and was knocked flat by something zinging across his temple.

Fighting unconsciousness he crawled around the dead deer and into the stand of thick bushes. Vision spinning, he made himself as small as possible and listened. His head and arm throbbed as he tried to make out anything in the inky darkness.

Voices came near and a slash of light rippled over the surroundings. The ray circled around the dark form on the ground and settled on it. "I got a deer!"

 "I shot, too. I could have been me!" A second beam merged with the first.

Two shadowy forms blended together in the darkness moved to the deer and stopped next to it. They hovered proudly over the dead creature as they reported in.

"It's Code 4. We just shot a deer making noise in the brush. Would the cook do venison for us?" The speaker kicked the form then pushed the rifle around to his back. "We're heading back to the open area before someone shoots us," he said. Stowing the radio, he tipped his head in the direction they came. "Let's go."

The shadows moved off and the agent let out a shaky breath. Being carefully silent he assessed his wounds when his vision slowed its spinning. The head wound was only a graze and had stopped bleeding already. He pulled the cap down to conceal it. As far as he could see, a bullet had gone cleanly through his upper arm. He pulled out the communicator and checked his watch to see if he was clear. He was, and called his partner.

"What was that?" Napoleon snapped.

"The wildlife flushed out some hunters," Illya said quietly. "I'm fine. A deer acted as my shield."

"So the guards aren't suspicious?"

"No. You're fine. I'm heading back now."

"Be careful, partner."

"Always. Prince out."

It took a few minutes to wrap the arm tight enough to stop the bleeding with a narrow strip of cloth torn from his uniform shirt. By the time he got to the edge of the woods and within sight of the outer wall, his vision was clear but his arm throbbed. His fingers felt numb. Climbing the wall was going to be difficult.

Illya rested a few minutes to gather strength and focus. He dashed to the wall and launched the cable and was able to make it to the top unspotted. Gathering the cable as he rolled over the top, he then dropped to the grass and knocked the breath out of himself when he hit the ground.

In a haze he wobbled to his feet, stashed away the cable and gun and stumbled towards the gate where he met up with Doucat. The young guard was puffing from the run around the perimeter zone. "Where were you? Did you fire your gun?"

Illya gasped for an entirely different reason unbeknownst to the young guard. He shook his swirling head and took the opportunity to steady himself. "Personally, I think it's a bit too late for target practice. Come on." They slowly tramped their way back through the gate and toward the house. "I'm going to find my lazy partner," Illya said, taking his leave from the excitable Doucat. He found a dark patch of ground near the downspout and collapsed in the shadows. He fought lightheadedness.

After a bit of rest he found the black jacket tucked away in the brush and covered the uniform. For a few long seconds he toyed with simply going through the front door before he filed that thought as 'not-in-this-lifetime'. Instead, he took the time to watch the guards and gather his strength.

He had no idea on how long he'd sat there. Time seemed to take on a surreal edge. With a final sigh he stood, fought off the dizziness, and began his ascent up the downspout focused on one step at a time. Finally, his head spinning and his arm screaming, he made it to the ledge and paused. Both his head and arm pounded. Eyes narrowed in determination he locked his sights on his destination and edged his way along. Luckily the moon was on the other side of the house and the guards still focused on the perimeter. He was able to get to the window of his room unspotted.

The window pushed it open easily and he bit his lip to hold back the gasp of pain when the temporary patch on his arm tore open. A motion inside the room made him jerk his head up and he came face to face with a shocked Talia. Without comment she helped him inside. He collapsed against the wall under the window and fought to see through the spinning stars in his vision.

She'd obviously been crying. Her eyes were bloodshot and watery, her voice shaky. "God, Illya, what happened? I was so worried! When you weren't here, I thought for sure. . ."

"I'm all right," he said through clenched teeth.

"You're bleeding," she stated flatly.

"I am now. It wasn't before."

"You've been shot!" She said, shocked, when she unwrapped the wound.

 "It went through. I've had worse, Talia. I'll be fine."

Talia found the graze on his temple when she yanked off the cap. Her fright turned into stubborn determination. She helped him out of the shirt, got a wet towel from the bathroom over his protests and cleaned off the area in awkward silence.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "Napoleon knows about the new timetable. This will all be over soon." He watched her eyes for a moment, trying to read her. "Why are you crying in the dark?"

She rubbed her nose nervously. "I'm afraid, Illya. I'm afraid for both you and David." The agent raised an eyebrow at that. She continued to clean the wounds, her words coming out more easily while her hands kept busy. She laughed a short, sad laugh. "When I first met him, he was different. He was curious about everything, fun, and smart. He's a brilliant man. When he's away from his family, he's the man I love. He's changed since we've been here, Illya, and I don't like it. I don't like it at all." She dropped the cloth and tore a bandage from one of the many pillowcases. "I have to confess that my reasons for betraying him are purely selfish. Without the program, David would have no reason to stay here. We'd have a chance at a life." Her eyes again became watery as she fought back the emotion. "Now that Marcus is dead, I think I may have lost David. Arthur needs him. David is moving too easily into Marcus' place."

Talia took a moment to steady herself. She rested her hands on top of the agent's and he could feel her trembling. "Illya, he wants revenge on four men coming here tomorrow." Her voice was tired and wavered as she fought unsuccessfully to keep the tears gathered in her eyes from spilling over. "He's sure one of them murdered Marcus, so he wants to destroy all of them. He wants revenge. He's not the David I fell in love with."

Illya had to suppress the urge to wipe the tears from her cheek. Instead he ducked his head and studied their hands. The desire to gather her in a comforting embrace was strong. She was right; David was lost and was on a path of no return. "I'm sorry, Talia."

She nodded absently and helped Illya to his feet and to the edge of the bed. They sat side by side in the shadowy room for many minutes. When she spoke, her voice was soft. "When I first met him, he reminded me of you."

Illya didn't know how to respond. He felt his heart flutter and turned his attention to getting dressed. He stood and picked up a clean shirt from the bedside table but before he could pull it on, Talia took his hand. The weary agent was forced stand and listen, the cool breeze from the window tingling his bare skin.

"He had the same excitement in discovery, the same quick brain; he was you, Illya. And I missed you so much." She stifled a sob, and took a breath. Her voice became stronger. "I need stability, Illya, and he can offer that. He has roots and holdings and history; and he does love me."

Illya caught her eyes and she met them with determination. After a moment he said quietly, "He has a strange way of showing it."

Talia's eyes flashed. "What do you know? You haven't been around him when he's away from here. He's . . . he's …" the tears started again, and her voice sounded defeated. "He's just like you." She quickly stood and turned to go. Illya's hand flashed out and caught her arm, stopping her in mid step.

"Are you sure he will go away with you when this is all over?"

"Yes. I'm sure he will come with me. He loves me."

"Talia," he said firmly, keeping his grip. "Just remember that Emily and Monica Danzig also wanted the security you seek. And they have it."

She turned on him, her eyes burning. "David wouldn't . . ."

"Put the family business ahead of you? You didn't think he be driven by revenge, either."

A heavy silence hung between them before Talia finally replied. "He hasn't done anything yet. And what about you, Illya? Isn't U.N.C.L.E. your 'family business' just like the Underground was before that?"

Taken aback, he dropped her arm. Neither of them moved or broke eye contact, but for Illya, suddenly everything looked different. The first impression he had was surprise. Then the weary agent allowed a door to open to his unconscious where he examined an idea from a new point of view.  It was an idea he had done his best to ignore since he'd first seen her in Brussels.

What he said next came from the heart, backed by truth, and both scared and comforted him.

"Yes. But I would leave it with the right incentive."

Where Illya's eyes did not waver, Talia's eyes widened like a frightened deer. Quickly she moved to the door where she paused over the knob.

Softly, she said, "I came up here to tell you something. The Program is finished." Then she fled, leaving in her wake an ex-lover with a new plan.

Act XI: The Train Station

The pressure was on for Napoleon and Neiman. Throughout the night a flurry of communications resulted in a little over half of the assault force being on site in time. It would have to do. Luckily, April and Mark were still in the area to handle the team.

Neiman located the phone lines a distance from the house and was able to get a partial list of Thrush names expected to arrive the next day. Eli Soloman, Dagmar Krinsky, Jean-Luc Arboneau and Devin Knight.

Solo rubbed his eyes when he heard the names. It was approaching dawn and he hadn't slept. His eyes felt like sandpaper. "All on the Thrush Council, I believe. All of them would kill their mother for advancement.  Marcus and Arthur Danzig would be in their element, but it sounds like more than David could handle. Any indication that they know Knight is responsible for Marcus' death?"

Neiman shrugged and slumped to the floor of the tent, exhausted. "No. I'm sure Marcus has the takeover set up to the last detail. David should have not problem if he has the stomach for it."

"True. And he has an impressive support system backing him. It sounds like the Danzigs are continuing as planned." His somber brown eyes tired but determined, the senior agent glanced out of the tent. "Come on. We have about an hour until dawn. Let's find the best place to breach the wall and assemble some explosives."  

++++++++++++  

Illya awoke with a start well after dawn. Sleep had been restless and pain-filled, but he'd managed to get in a few hours. When he rose from the bed his head swam and his arm reminded him of his injury. He rolled his shoulder, testing the extent of damage, and was pleased to find no loss of flexibility. It simpy hurt, and that could be ignored.

After his head stopped spinning he stood and looked in the mirror. The head wound was near the hairline and easily covered by his shaggy cut. Satisfied, he washed and dressed and went downstairs to eat.

The household was a hive of activity. Illya weaved between all the workers and found the kitchen in a barely controlled uproar. The cook, barking orders left and right, didn't verbally acknowledge the agent but shoved a full breakfast plate into his hands before he could open his mouth. Grateful, he backed out and ate the food as he walked through the rooms.

Talia's job was to sabotage the security cameras in the lab area while David was briefing the Thrush Council. They would have precious few minutes to set the explosives, retrieve the Program, and escape. Good timing would put the Council members in the area of the labs during the explosion. Perfect timing would allow the Council members to be captured by the assault team. Either way, he and Talia had to get the Program and safely escape with David in tow. Marcus' office offered the best way out. Since most of the sensitive items had already been moved to David's office, it would be empty and unguarded and it had a window that opened to the quiet side of the house. There was a good chance they would slip out unnoticed in the confusion.

After that, Talia would be gone.

He didn't regret what he'd said to her the night before. He knew that Talia had her mind set on finishing this and starting a new life with David. I just hope you know what you're getting into, Talia Alina, he thought.

He returned the empty plate to the kitchen and returned upstairs where he integrated his explosives into his tuxedo. Then, he tightly re-wrapped his injured arm and tested his mobility. It was tender, but still functional.

The guests would be arriving soon, and there would be cocktails and music in the ballroom beginning at 4:00. The briefing started at 5:00 and the tour at 5:30. They had a 30-minute window, and planned to be ready.  

+++++++++             

Talia hadn't slept well at all. She was tense, her stomach upset and her nerves rattled to the point of distraction. David made it clear that she was to see to the details of the gathering and she did so on automatic with no sense of accomplishment. It seemed to her like she was on a long walk to the gallows.

After tonight, everything would be different. After tonight, she and David would be embarking on their new life. If that was so, then why did this dread hang over her like a black cloud? Why did this feel so right and so wrong at the same time? 

The number of details that she attended to seemed endless. Finally, as the first of the guests drove through the gates, Talia felt everything was done and she had a moment to catch her breath. She turned the greeting duties over to Tonnie, who would show the guests to their suites, and retired to her room to dress.

She was ready shortly before 4:00 and surprised that David had not yet called for her. Checked the collar of her silk blouse and the waist of her flowing silk skirt one last time. Her hair was just the way he liked it - swept up with loose tendrils around her face. Her makeup was perfect and even covered the tired bags under her eyes. With a final steadying intake of breath Talia threw back her shoulders and decided to find him instead.

Would he leave with her and Illya tonight, or should she meet with him later, after the Program is gone? Or maybe she shouldn't leave at all and stay by his side. Even after the betrayal is discovered, surely he would see that she did it for him, for them. The David she knew would be happy to have his hands clean. Now was the time for her to feel him out and make the decision. Then she could tell Illya at the cocktail party.

The guard at David's dressing room announced her, much to her annoyance. That would change after tonight. She used to be able to move freely about his quarters, and planned on it being that way again.

She stepped in with an excited smile on her face. What she walked in on took her aback.

David wasn't alone. There was a beefy security guard, a harried-looking assistant, a prissy valet and Arthur. It was clear to her that David was the one firmly in charge. As he issued orders to the assistant Talia was shocked at how he sounded; he was Marcus reborn. His tone, his posture and his words were all Marcus.

Arthur was seated to one side and looked to be half the man he was a week ago. David, on the other hand, looked larger, confidant and empowered. He'd easily slipped into the vacancy left by his brother. It was obvious who was running the show now.

Talia mentally tried to slow her racing heart. There was still a chance, there had to be. When David glanced at her, he smiled.

"You look fabulous, Talia, my dear. I need to settle some details. Would you greet the guests downstairs? I will meet them in the conference room for the briefing."

She reasoned the brush off was due to nerves. "Certainly, David. I'll see you downstairs." Disappointed, she stepped out of the dressing area and out of his line of sight then paused.

"I will handle everything, Dad." Arthur said in a low, calm voice. Talia had to strain to hear the rest. "Tonight, I will personally kill those responsible for the death of my brother. Tomorrow, we will be invincible."

Talia felt the blood drain from her face and she slumped against the wall for support. At that moment, she knew she'd lost him. The David she knew was now the David that Arthur wanted.

There was only one person Talia Alina Inova could turn to now. Quietly, she slipped from the room.

She didn't hear David's private line ring or see his expression when the missing investigator requested to meet him privately on a most important matter.  

++++++++++  

The ballroom was sparkling with crystal and lights. The small band played popular dance songs and the dance floor was alive with Danzig business partners and Thrush Council members. Illya stayed to the sidelines and was doing an excellent job of not being noticed. He picked up from the buzz of the crowd that some guests were insulted that the Danzigs hadn't shown themselves yet, but most of the guests excused them because of the recent family tragedy.

Talia descended the stairs with her chin up. Her hands gathered the flowing skirt to free the hem from her feet as she moved downward. Her shoulders were back and her upswept hair framed an elegant profile. Everything about her carriage said she was the woman of the house. As she followed the sweeping turn of the stairs and approached the entry Illya saw her eyes. They told him everything; he'd seen that look before.

It was over with David Danzig.

He knew that she made a decision she hadn't wanted to make. Seeing that look again brought back a moment in full clarity that he had filed away in his mind long ago:

The sounds of the train station alone were confusing.  Along with the press of bodies in the winter chill, the smell of grease and the sight of hurrying people's icy breath coming out of their noses as they brushed by, it was enough to distract anyone's thoughts. The intense blond college student working his way determinedly to the train platform wasn't just anyone.

 Tight in his elbow was the hand of an old woman whose heart he could see racing in the pulse of her neck. Her eyes were wide with fear, but also glimmered with determination. Illya spared a look over his shoulder and saw Talia doggedly keeping on his heels with the old man caught in her elbow. The old man did not look well and Illya feared he would drop dead of a heart attack before they could board.

The final 'all aboard' caused the crowd to surge ahead like the tide at the beach. Illya ducked his head. "Hang on," he said lowly as he forced their way through a tiny hole in the crowd, successfully getting to the edge of the platform. The doors to the eastbound trains were impassable, so packed with bodies they were. Each set of eyes he saw was tired and wide with anxiety; it was a common look to those trying to escape the regime. Most of them would not make it, and they knew that. Illya knew, though, that this old couple would as all his clients before them had. Still, the stress to the old couple was understandable.

The train lurched forward once, and Illya knew it was now or never. He steered the old woman to the last doorway and politely chastised those that blocked it to make room for the couple. Desperation recognized desperation, and a small opening appeared as the train lurched once more.

Snow was beginning to fall and icy flakes blew over the platform as Illya helped the old woman and old man up the train stair; the old man slipped, and Talia leaned into him, bodily lifting him up.  She was attached to his arm in what Illya saw as determination stepped back to give her room to work. Talia stepped on the stair, still guiding the man. The train lurched again, and began to slowly chug forward. Talia stepped up another step.

"Talia," Illya warned, but he didn't get any further. She was now on the third step and the crowd in the doorway had swelled shut again. She turned and fixed her wide eyes on him, only her face clearly visible in the press of bodies. Illya opened his mouth to say something, anything, but her eyes told him it wouldn't do any good.

She had made a decision. She was leaving him.

The grip on the old man's arm that he had interpreted as determination was actually desperation; Talia Alina Inova was finally making a desperate attempt to find the stability she felt she needed, no matter the cost.

All Illya could do was stare in open-mouthed shock as the train gathered speed and moved away. He didn't believe she would do it. He didn't believe she would ever leave him. His breath was gone and his head swirled as the train took her from his sight. He didn't hear any of the crowd, or smell any of the damp station smells, or feel the snowflakes brushing his face as they tumbled at the will of the wind to the earth. All he felt was his heart, and it had turned as icy cold as the steel tracks taking his love away.

 And then he felt it shatter.

When Talia's foot touched the floor her eyes found his across the room. He didn't see the crowd between them or feel the heat of the room; he did feel his heartbeat, strong and full.

Talia reached him and he saw her eyes shimmering with tears she refused to shed. He found her hands escorted her to the dance floor, and then turned her to face him. Gently, he pulled her close, the flat of his hand lightly placed on her lower back. He felt the warmth of her body under the silk. The skirt flowed around them as they moved.

For those few moments they were in another place. They were in an alternate future and knew it was within their grasp.

For Illya, it was living day to day with a woman he respected and trusted, seeing her every morning and holding her close every night; a woman who knew him, his beginnings and his inner self. Before, it had been beyond his thinking, but now, with all that had happened to him since she had left and all that he had learned in that time, he knew that true happiness was what he had right now in his arms. He vowed to not let her go this time.

For Talia, it was like coming home. She regretted ever leaving him. This time she knew she would be happy. This time, she knew exactly what she had right here in her arms, and she couldn't push him away again. At that moment she realized that stability was not rock and mortar, it was trust and faith.

This the new world settled into their minds as a possibility to be dealt with when this affair was over. And it would be over, and they would prevail as they did all those other times, together, in the past.

"It's time," Talia whispered in a breathy voice. It was plain in her eyes that she wanted this over with as soon as possible so they could begin again.

Illya grinned. "I know," he replied, referring to more than just the mission here tonight.

She smiled in complete understanding and he escorted her from the floor. They were a team once again.  

+++++++++  

Neiman was breathless when he found the senior agent.  Solo was checking the final placements of explosives and confirming the location of the assault team. The expression on Neiman's face was enough to give the agent his instant, undivided attention.

"He's back," Neiman puffed. "The investigator. He's back and requested to meet with David in private, immediately. He wouldn't report over the phone. He's to meet with David in Marcus' study."

Solo's heart sank. "That's it, then. He knows and it's just a matter of minutes before David knows." He glanced at his watch: 5:00 straight up. Illya and Talia were committed. The investigator was no doubt enroute from the village and would be here in less than 10 minutes. In 15 minutes Illya's cover would be blown and he could be dead. "Can we stop him on the road?"

Neiman shook his head. "The road is lined with Danzig security from here to the village. If we take him out, they will discover the assault force."

"And since we have half the force we really need, we can't afford that." The CEA pressed his lips into a tight line. "It's up to Illya and Talia. They're on their own, for a while at least. If we don't get his signal in 20 minutes, we're going in. Inform April and Mark."

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