Illya felt paralysed when he heard the gunshot. It rang painfully in his ears as the two men on both sides of him grasped him tighter. He was wrong. He was afraid of dying. He was afraid of not continuing to live and see more. He was ashamed of having to die so helpless and useless.
But his head did not hurt. Was that normal? He thought, as he looked up to try and see any blood. There was none. This is not how he had imagined dying.
He finally looked up again, and amazingly, he had not been shot. The man who had previously been holding the gun was now sprawled on the floor drenched in a pool of dark red blood. The absence of the man standing in front of the door revealed another man in a dapper coat and jacket. The man raised an eyebrow when he saw Illya and a smile formed at the side of his mouth.
"Peril, nice to see you."
I'm never going to live this down, Illya rolled his eyes.
The two men were still grasping him tightly, and Albert was reaching for his weapon. But Solo was already pointing his gun at Albert, ready to shoot.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Solo poised the gun in front of Albert's head, the trigger ready to be pulled. "Put the gun down."
"Are you one of those CIA dogs?" Albert jeered at Solo, spitting at him.
"Yes, and I'm well trained."
All of a sudden, a dozen agents appeared behind Solo, all heavily armed with snipers. They wore a mixture of KGB and CIA bulletproof jackets. Albert and his two henchmen had no choice but to kneel down with their hands behind their heads.
"You'll pay for this..."
Before Albert could finish his sentence, he was dragged away by two KGB agents. Illya got up from the ground and awkwardly faced Solo.
"You took your time, Cowboy." Illya tried to remain serious, but he could not help smiling a little.
Solo slapped the Russian agent on the back. "You're welcome, Peril."
"Gaby?"
"I wouldn't let her come inside," Solo grinned. "It took a lot of agents to hold her back. It was borderline scary."