The End - For Sinthia

[red_peril]

(Takes place one week after this entry. http://red-peril.dreamwidth.org/2504.html)

He tucked his shirt into his pants, the bulletproof vest with it's squib packs of blood in place. Illya didn't even have time to text Sinthia to let her know that the conclusion of the mission was happening now. His handlers had intercepted him on his way to work as he stopped to get coffee that morning before heading to Ivan's restaurant.



"Are you ready for this, Kuryakin?" his FBI handler asked. Amanda was a petite older woman. She was just over five foot and had to crane her neck to look up at the very tall Russian agent.

"Da," he said curtly, adjusting his tie and putting on his jacket. The new thin fabric bulletproof vest was well hidden beneath his clothes. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"Nervous?" She asked, her cool green eyes searched his face for any trace of anxiety.

"I would be fool not to be," he told her. His face unreadable. "Listen if anything happens to me," he said pulling a hastily written note out of his pocket, "Get this to Sinthia, please." When she was about to protest, he continued, "She knows about the mission, I already told you that. Sinthia won't do anything to compromise it. And this only goes to her if something happens to me. If everything goes as planned, you can just throw it away."

"Just be careful in there, handsome. Don't make me have to deliver this," she said to the FSB agent as she slipped the letter into her bag.

With that he put his gun in its shoulder holster, buttoned his jacket, and stepped out of the trailer. It was parked in a vacant parking lot behind the coffee shop. Illya went in the back door, ordered coffee and by 7:00 am he was at Ivan's side as the old man picked up his grandchildren to take them to school. The rest of the day went fairly routinely.

"The Chechens new leader wants to meet," Ivan announced. "This afternoon. In a neutral location," Ivan said, amused. There was no such thing as a neutral location in New York. As it was, they would meet at a warehouse on the dock in Brighton Beach. There had been squabbling among the Chechens faction of the Vor since Anatoli, their previous leader, had been assassinated earlier in the week. Apparently some sort of truce seemed to be in order. The new man was wanting to heal old wounds between the two Vor factions.

They arrived at the warehouse exactly on time, Illya getting out of the car ahead of Ivan, as usual. Illya recognized the old warehouse. It was not the first time it had been used as a meet. It was strangely deserted. A single shipping container was sitting in the middle of the warehouse floor. "Wait," Drawing his weapon, Illya checked around the container and there was no one.

"There is no one here. Something is wrong," he said looking around the dark warehouse. He returned to Ivan's side. This was supposed to be a routine meeting and yet the Chechen were not here. "It feels like an ambush, boss. You need to get out of here."

Taking his advice, the old man headed back toward his limousine. Just as he was about to get in, a bullet zinged off the door frame and Illya shoved Ivan inside the back seat of the car. "Stay down! Drive!"

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. Illya knew he would be hit, that was the plan. He turned to return fire but didn't have a chance. Of course, that was when the Chechens decided to join the party.

Three bullets slammed into his chest exploding the squibs and making it look as though he had been fatally hit. But even with the bulletproof vest on, it felt like someone hit him with a sledge hammer. Gasping for air, Illya slumped back against the open door of the car.

But the Chechen didn't know the shots weren't being fired in their direction and they opened up on Ivan's car. He felt another searing pain as a slug tore through his thigh. Two more shots hit him in the chest and the shoulder. He felt like he was falling in slow motion as the car moved away and he collapsed just as another bullet struck him, this time in the head. He had no idea if Ivan managed to escape the authorities or if the task force had caught him. Everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~

Under the circumstances, Amanda didn't think that just a note dropped off at Ms. Schmidt's workplace was sufficient. At least, she wouldn't want to get such a note in the mail with no explanation if her boyfriend had been the one who had been critically injured. She went against orders to track Sinthia down and headed to the auction house where she worked.

"Ms. Schmidt? I'm afraid need you to come with me." Amanda Bergen told her, as she showed the woman her FBI credentials.

Comments

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"Desperate only for you," he grinned. "Although there is one very handsome young male nurse on day shift who is tempting," Illya teased, chuckling at the kiss to his nose.

"You did?" He had expected her to bring the safety razor she usually used. The straight razor was very sharp. The handle was beautifully carved. "That is beautiful." Illya trusted her completely and lifted his chin toward her.

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"You'll have to point him out to me, I want to know what you consider handsome," Sinthia laughed, arranging the razor once opened so she could hold it. "I did have to practice some with this, but I've gotten good at it."

The shaving itself was smooth and practiced, and Sinthia was careful not to cut him, kissing his skin once it was clean before moving to his lips.

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He brushed his left hand over his smooth chin when she finished and smiled at her, "You are quite good." He kissed her back, chaste at first, and then opening his lips to slide his tongue between her lips. He kissed her deeply and hungrily.

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She accepted that kiss, the intimacy and his obvious hunger, smiling a little as she nipped at his lip, happy he still desired her. Her hands slid down his body once she'd set the razor aside, careful not to jar any of his still-healing joints but unwilling to wait much longer.

"I practiced for you."

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"Thank you," he very much appreciated her skill. Illya slid his left arm around her waist, drawing her closer. "It has been too damn long since I have been with you."

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She stepped closer between his spread legs, aware enough to not to make him overextend his thigh to make room for her as she looked down at his face. "It has been," she agreed, cupping his face with her fingertips; it had been close to three weeks now, and she missed him just as much as he did her. "But what do you intend to do about it?"

They couldn't very easily have sex--not penetrative sex, anyway--here, and she certainly wasn't risking it in a room with no lock on the door, but he had one working hand and a mouth, and Illya was a smart boy. Sinthia couldn't resist grinning at him. "Can you stand up?" she asked.

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"I do not know, but I'm sure we can manage something," Illya said, grinning. He turned his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. It wouldn't be easy, but he liked a challenge. "Oh yes, I can do that," he stood and leaned down to kiss her neck.

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She tilted her head back, face up to rub her cheek against his, taking his hands and spreading them on her belly and ribs, smiling up against his lips when they kiss. "Help me out of my jeans and I'll help you."

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"Better lock door," he said. The lock wasn't much and could be opened from the outside in an emergency. The bathroom was also small, they had limited space to work in. Illya reached down with his left hand and unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans. He was still shirtless, giving her a lot more skin to touch.

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"I can rig the lock," she murmured, teeth closing on Illya's lip gently as she kissed him, splaying her hands all over him as she smiled.

"If you want to be uninterrupted."

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"Yes please," though he didn't imagine they would be interrupted. Now that his thigh was healed, and most of the bruises were gone, the nurses didn't check on him as often. Still, he didn't want to be walked in on. Illya touched her where ever he could single handedly. Sliding his free left hand up beneath her blouse.

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The safety lock was easy to stick; her hair tie did nicely, keeping the lock mechanism from turning or being popped from the outside. Sinthia moved closer, fingers touching everywhere she could on him and kissing his smooth face in between laughs and a gentle gasp when his fingers slid between her legs.

"I missed how your hands feel, Illya," she murmured. "I miss not being with you."

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"Clever," he grinned, though it was awkward to use his fingers on her in this position. "My hands have missed touching you." He caught sight of them in the bathroom mirror. "Turn around so your back is to me," he suggested. It would feel less awkward and he could watch her face in the mirror.

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"Why?" she asked, before doing it anyway; she could see them clearly in the mirror, the outline of her shoulders seeming small in comparison to Illya's naked chest, muscular and decorated as he still was.

She leaned back against him, pushing up the material of her shirt so he'd be able to skim him hands over her belly, or cup her breasts unimpeded. "Hard to kiss you this way."

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"It will be better position for me to touch you with my left hand," he said, and his pants were down enough so that he could rub his cock against her ass. "And I want to watch your face in the mirror when you come," he growled in her ear. Illya touched every bit of skin that he could before sinking his hand again down in her pants. This was a much more natural position for him. He could kiss her neck and shoulders and watch the beautiful faces she made while he manipulated her.

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"Mmm," she hummed and it dissolved into a chuckle as he growled into her ear: she wiggled back against him to feel his cock slide against her skin, and his hand into her underwear, fingers searching. "You were were distracted without me."

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"I was. I certainly am not now," he kissed her shoulder and her neck, his fingers finding what they were searching for. He rubbed her clit, watching her face in the mirror.

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"No, I'd say you're right on target," she murmured, rising to her toes as she tilted her head back with a soft sigh, edging into a groan as his fingers found their goal. She reached back for him too, one hand rubbing his hip and thigh as she rocked her hips into his hand and against his cock. "Only downside to this position, I can't kiss you," Sinthia managed, rubbing her cheek to his.

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He leaned down farther, "You think not? Just turn your head." Illya kissed her mouth when she did and her lips met his. Though it was not easy to do still wearing the splint keeping his right arm immobile. His abused ribs protested, and he pulled back from her hissing in pain. "Dammit. You are right, I don't think this position is going to work," he admitted.

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"Don't hurt yourself," Sinthia chuckled. "I don't want to have to call a nurse."

She turned, and lifted Illya's hand, kissing his palm before rising up to kiss his lips slowly, and sweetly and deeply. "Let me take care of you first."

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Illya sighed in frustration, but happily kissed her back when she turned around to him. "Okay," he breathed.

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"The minute you're out of here and we're home," Sinthia murmured, lips close to his, "We're going to make love for hours. Until then, though, you have to let someone else take the lead." She wrapped her hand around Illya's cock, fingers curling around the stiff length of him, stroking as she kissed him and let her mouth wander down his neck and across his shoulders.

"I missed you so much," she whispered. "At night."

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"Absolutely," he looked forward of that. Illya gasped in pleasure as she stroked him, happy to let her take the lead, so to speak. "I have missed you every moment of the day..." a moan escaped him and he rocked his hips, thrusting into her hand.

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Sinthia hummed as she stroked him, laying her cheek on his uninjured shoulder. "Isn't missing that what I'm making up for?" she asked, a half-laugh in her voice.

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"Da, my love," he turned his head and bent a little to capture her lips as she stroked him. His one good hand roamed over her back, sliding down to grip her ass firmly and pull her toward him. It was not going to take him long to come like this. His movements becoming a little erratic as he thrust faster into her hand. Illya shuddered, "You are so good with your hands..." he gasped.