ext_143789 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
vysila.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-03-28 08:12 pm
vysila.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-03-28 08:12 pm
Entry tags:
Scheherazade by Lee the T (PG)
Fandom: MAN FROM UNCLE
Pairing: None, Gen
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
leethet
Author Website: Her works, both gen and slash, can be found on File 40
Why this must be read: Because this is the perfect story for showing the level of commitment Illya and Napoleon have, not only to each other, but to the job they've signed on to do. The scenario is one that's all too real for men who live and work in the shadowy arena of Cold War espionage, and the only way they survive is through their faith. This story makes me tear up every time I read it, and despite that it's one I re-read frequently.
Napoleon waded through his soggy mind in search of facts. Anton Karelian. Denmark. A case a year or so ago. Illya'd been on his own. Long-range missile thefts from a military base and a little private torture chamber for Karelian's own amusement.
"I thought you blew him up," Napoleon said to Illya.
"I tried," Illya replied.
To Karelian, Napoleon said, "You're supposed to be blown up. This smacks of impertinence."
Karelian's mouth thinned. "I intend to be still more impertinent, Mr. Solo. Even discourteous. Not to you, of course. You're to be sent on to Central in a few days. Your partner, however, will be the beneficiary of my new and improved interrogation techniques."
"New box, same soap powder," Illya said, meeting the man's eyes levelly.
Affecting puzzlement, Napoleon asked, "What is it you want to know? Where to find the best alfredo sauce? We were on holiday."
Karelian laughed softly. "You know, Mr. Kuryakin is easy to find when he is working. One simply follows the trail of explosions. I know the data that computer contained. I know Mr. Kuryakin was in the outpost before it blew up. I know he has those names."
"There was no time," Napoleon said. "We lost it all."
"I'm willing to take the chance that you are ... mistaken, Mr. Solo," Karelian said. He raised his unsteady hands, indicating his frail body. "I don't have a great deal of time left. Thanks in part to your associate, my ambitions have been curtailed. However, I still serve THRUSH and its goals. That is my legacy. But really, this doesn't concern you. I'm going to have a little chat with Mr. Kuryakin. If he cooperates, you'll both be sent alive and relatively undamaged to THRUSH Central."
"I know you want me to ask--" Illya began.
"No," Napoleon cut in. "Let me: And if he doesn't?"
Karelian laughed again, a faint exhalation and a slight lifting of his thin shoulders. "He will."
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do.
Scheherazade
Pairing: None, Gen
Author on LJ:
leethetAuthor Website: Her works, both gen and slash, can be found on File 40
Why this must be read: Because this is the perfect story for showing the level of commitment Illya and Napoleon have, not only to each other, but to the job they've signed on to do. The scenario is one that's all too real for men who live and work in the shadowy arena of Cold War espionage, and the only way they survive is through their faith. This story makes me tear up every time I read it, and despite that it's one I re-read frequently.
Napoleon waded through his soggy mind in search of facts. Anton Karelian. Denmark. A case a year or so ago. Illya'd been on his own. Long-range missile thefts from a military base and a little private torture chamber for Karelian's own amusement.
"I thought you blew him up," Napoleon said to Illya.
"I tried," Illya replied.
To Karelian, Napoleon said, "You're supposed to be blown up. This smacks of impertinence."
Karelian's mouth thinned. "I intend to be still more impertinent, Mr. Solo. Even discourteous. Not to you, of course. You're to be sent on to Central in a few days. Your partner, however, will be the beneficiary of my new and improved interrogation techniques."
"New box, same soap powder," Illya said, meeting the man's eyes levelly.
Affecting puzzlement, Napoleon asked, "What is it you want to know? Where to find the best alfredo sauce? We were on holiday."
Karelian laughed softly. "You know, Mr. Kuryakin is easy to find when he is working. One simply follows the trail of explosions. I know the data that computer contained. I know Mr. Kuryakin was in the outpost before it blew up. I know he has those names."
"There was no time," Napoleon said. "We lost it all."
"I'm willing to take the chance that you are ... mistaken, Mr. Solo," Karelian said. He raised his unsteady hands, indicating his frail body. "I don't have a great deal of time left. Thanks in part to your associate, my ambitions have been curtailed. However, I still serve THRUSH and its goals. That is my legacy. But really, this doesn't concern you. I'm going to have a little chat with Mr. Kuryakin. If he cooperates, you'll both be sent alive and relatively undamaged to THRUSH Central."
"I know you want me to ask--" Illya began.
"No," Napoleon cut in. "Let me: And if he doesn't?"
Karelian laughed again, a faint exhalation and a slight lifting of his thin shoulders. "He will."
I hope you enjoy this story as much as I do.
Scheherazade
no subject
And, yes, I cry, too, at this one.