Here is Chapter 9, finally :) . One last chapter after this one and the story will be complete

Criminals' base

Gun in hand, Gaby hurried down the corridors. A few minutes earlier, she had caught up with the part of her team that was inside the building. Most of the members of the organization present in the building had either been shot or captured. The situation was under control. There was only one tiny problem. The leader had escaped…and he had taken Solo hostage. Apparently they were heading towards the opposite side of the building, where she had left Illya. She had told her men to stay put, understanding that if the leader realized he was being followed, there was a risk that he would hurt Napoleon, or use him as a human shield. Then Gaby had contacted the rest of the team that had been in charge of securing the outside of the building. All the exits were guarded but she had a hunch that the leader was heading for the exit that she and her team had used to get in, it was the least conspicuous and was located near the garage. It was also closest to the road and would allow for an easier escape. She wanted her men outside to focus on this exit. She was heading there herself, hoping that Illya was still hiding and not wandering around the corridors where the leader could shoot him. Hoping that Napoleon wasn't hurt. Hoping that they would be able to neutralize the leader before he could kill Napoleon. Gaby sighed in frustration.

Damn…

Working with two partners that she cared about wasn't a picnic. Especially when, like a pair of well-trained synchronized swimmers, they decided to both get in trouble exactly at the same time. She could only save one partner at a time.

A few minutes earlier (criminals' base, opposite side)

Napoleon was trying to think as he stumbled after the leader, half-strangled by the rope around his neck.

Damn, who would have thought the guy was such a fast runner…

"You'd better hurry Mr Solo, if your little friends catch up with us and start shooting, I'll have to use you as a shield."

"That wasn't mentioned in the contract," Napoleon panted. "I hope I'm getting some kind of danger pay as compensation."

After a while they turned a corner and the man led Napoleon up several flights of stairs. Then the leader stopped abruptly, causing his prisoner to slightly lose his balance and the rope around his neck to tighten even more.

"It seems that we have managed to lose your colleagues, I think we can afford to stop for a bit.", the leader said.

He set his briefcase down and pulled his gun out of his holster. Napoleon was having a hard time catching his breath with the rope constricting his throat. Noticing that, the man stepped closer to him and loosened the noose slightly. Thankful that his windpipe was no longer reduced to the diameter of a hair, Napoleon took a moment to recuperate and scan his surroundings. They had reached the second floor and were standing on a platform surrounded by a railing.

The leader took a folding knife out of his pocket and used it to cut the rope binding his prisoner's wrists together. Napoleon almost sighed in relief as he was finally able to fully extend his arms without strangling himself. But he knew that the man wasn't letting him go free and whatever was going to happen next, he knew that he probably wasn't going to like it.

"So what's the plan, are you going to shoot me in the face?", Napoleon asked, eyeing the gun that was pointed at him.

"No, no Mr Solo. Tempting as it is, you can still be useful to me."

"Always glad to be of service", Napoleon answered with a forced smile.

The man produced a pair of handcuffs and tossed them to the agent. Still pointing his gun at Napoleon, he motioned for him to move closer to the railing.

"Now Mr Solo I want you to turn around, climb on that railing and sit on it. Once you're sitting comfortably, you will put those handcuffs around your wrists. And don't try anything stupid, my gun is still pointed at your back."

With the gun aimed at his back, Napoleon didn't really have any other options. He did as he was told, all the while trying to figure out what the leader's plan was.

"What I have in mind might not stop your friends from following me but it should slow they down a bit and keep them busy long enough to give me a comfortable head start. And there's even a chance that you might get out of here alive. Granted, it's a tiny chance but it's better than nothing, right?"

Sitting on the railing, his wrists cuffed in front of him, Napoleon was looking down at the floor twenty feet below. Was the man going to make him jump? How was him going 'splat' supposed to slow the others down? And how the hell was he supposed to survive that?

He felt a slight tug on the rope around his neck. He started to turn his head to see what was going on but the hard barrel of the gun against his temple stopped him.

"Ah ah, no cheating Mr Solo. You wouldn't want to spoil the surprise."

Then the leader was standing next to him, the gun still aimed at his head. The man used his free hand to make sure that the cuffs were secure, then he put the length of rope hanging from Napoleon's neck between the agent's hands.

"If I were you Mr Solo, I would hold on tight to that rope…"

And then it all made sense. As realization dawned on him, Napoleon barely had time to tighten his grip on the rope and brace himself before the leader shoved him over the railing. As he felt himself fall, he concentrated on keeping his grip on the rope and his arms flexed so that when the rope became taut, they would absorb the impact.

He was now dangling from the railing where the man had attached the other end of the rope. Luckily, the rope wasn't very long so his fall had been short and not too brutal, his arms hurt but at least he hadn't lost his grip. On the minus side, it was too long to allow him to reach for the railing and pull himself up. And with his hands cuffed together, letting go of the rope to grab the railing would have been impossible anyway. The handcuffs also meant that climbing up the rope was not an option.

So what are my options?..

Napoleon looked up, he knew that the leader was already gone. Was it wise to call for help? He had no idea where Gaby was. The whole episode on the platform had taken no more than five minutes. He didn't know how close the MI6 agents had been following but it could be a while before they got there. Yelling for help might speed things up. On the other hand, it was risky. The only thing missing for him to be the ultimate target was an actual bullseye painted on his chest. He didn't want to attract the attention of a guard and get shot.

Maybe I can swing my legs and use the momentum to reach the stairs…

A few attempts later, he was still hanging from the railing, winded and extremely annoyed.

Think, Solo… there has to be a way out of this…

But he was finding it increasingly hard to concentrate, he could feel his blood beating in his temples and the muscles in his arms were screaming. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. Napoleon realized now that he had wasted some precious time and that he should have started calling for help much earlier. And so he started shouting, as loud as he could.

At the same moment (criminals' base, first floor)

Illya opened his eyes. He had fallen asleep again. This was really developing into a bad habit. He blinked, his vision wasn't blurry anymore. Good. He slowly pushed himself up and winced. The pain in his head was still too intense for his liking but he was done resting. He picked up the gun which had fallen from his hand and took a few steps. A shout made him stop dead in his tracks. Now he knew what had woken him up. He had thought the shouting had been in his dreams. Someone was shouting for help. Someone who sounded suspiciously like his stupid American partner. Illya frowned, thinking back to what Gaby had told him. Solo was still in the hands of their captors. Could this be a trap? Maybe he should wait for Gaby to come back with her team. The shouting was coming from upstairs, it sounded more urgent and desperate now. Illya started heading in the direction of the voice. His partner was in trouble, it was his job to help him. And even if he wasn't in the best shape, he still knew how to do his job.

Criminals' base, second floor

Napoleon was getting desperate. It seemed that this area of the base was completely deserted. The guards had probably fled or been captured by Gaby's team. So he was not going to get shot. In other circumstances this would have been good news but since the alternative was being strangled to death by a piece of rope, it wasn't much comfort. He was still calling for help but his shouts were getting weaker. His muscles were burning and he was having a hard time keeping the rope from slipping through his sweaty palms.

So this is how I die? It's more original than a bullet in the head I suppose. At least it won't slow the others down. Unless they take some time to cut my hanging corpse down…

He opened his mouth to shout again but was stopped by a voice coming from above.

"Can't someone get some sleep around here?"

Napoleon looked up to see his partner standing on the platform, leaning over the railing, reaching for the rope. A wave of relief crashed over him as Illya started pulling him up. He concentrated on keeping his grip on the rope and, once he was high enough, used his feet to push himself up on the railing. One last pull and he was up on the platform. He sank to his knees and took a moment to catch his breath while Illya loosened the damn noose and removed it from around his neck. Napoleon realized that he was still holding on to the rope with a death grip. He finally let go and stretched his arms, trying to compose himself and to stop his hands from shaking.

"I'm glad you happened to be in the neighborhood, Peril, I was at the end of my rope."

"You should spend more time exercising, Cowboy."

"Hey, there's only so much time a human being can spend hanging from a rope in pull-up position. I'm actually surprised I lasted that long."

Illya shrugged, wincing slightly as he did so. Napoleon took a moment to observe his partner. He was leaning against the wall and looked like he was in bad shape. The agent felt a pang of gratitude as his gaze fell on the Russian's injured shoulder and broken fingers. It must have been extremely painful for him to pull his partner up on the platform.

"That's new…", Napoleon said, pointing at the bandage on Illya's chest. A fresh stain of blood was slowly spreading on the white gauze. "Did someone mistake you for a vampire? Not that it would surprise me…"

Illya briefly filled him in on what had happened since they had been separated. How he had managed to escape and kill the doctor, how he had wandered around the base looking for an exit, the fight and how he had hit his head falling down the stairs, how Gaby had saved him from being stabbed in the heart- "Are you blushing, Peril?"- how he should have left his stupid American partner hanging at the end of his rope to teach him a lesson…

Napoleon smiled.

"Sorry Peril, Anyway, I'm glad you're alive and I'm sure that deep down, you feel the same way about me. By the way, I don't suppose you have a hairpin on you?"

Illya stared at him blankly.

"I didn't think so. I guess that means I'm keeping the handcuffs for now. So what should we do now?"

"When I was exploring the base I found an exit not far from here. It was guarded but with the base under attack, it's likely that the guards have fled or been captured."

"That's probably the exit that the leader used after he left me hanging."

"We should go after him then."

"Hum, I wouldn't be too worried about him escaping. I'm pretty sure that the MI6 has all the exits covered. Gaby is probably already over there, supervising his capture. And don't think I haven't noticed the way you're leaning heavily on the wall and your occasional wince of pain, you are in no condition to go after anyone. You should probably stay here and take it easy. I'll go find the others, and come back with a doctor."

"No. I'm not staying here. I can make it to the exit."

"Are you sure, Peril?"

"I will be fine. I'm not a fragile American. Besides, the sooner I get out of here, the sooner I can receive medical attention."

"That's settled then", Napoleon said, walking over to the Russian and presenting his shoulder to him.

Illya gazed at it stupidly for a few seconds before he understood and begrudgingly accepted to lean on his partner.

Napoleon smiled as they started heading in the direction of the exit. It felt good to finally have his stubborn and irritable partner back.

End of chapter 9

Yay, Napoleon and Illya are finally reunited, now they just need to find Gaby and the trio will be complete once again :)