The Deadly Game

More by luck than skill both agents landed on the only patch of sand on the whole beach but both had acquired several more bruises. Solo was particularly dismayed to find the knees missing from his trousers and two nasty looking grazes shining red through the holes.
    "Solo here," he said relieved that the communicator had stopped Crawshaw’s laughter.
    "I need to talk, Napoleon."
    "Mark, I think there is a problem with that…"
    "I must…"
    "I’ll call back, Mark. I see Illya!"
    They ran awkwardly across the gravel towards the boats where Solo had seen Kuryakin. Because of the storm warning the entire small offshore boats were pulled high up the beach and all showed the need for a new coat of paint. Looking at the disrepair Solo wondered why nobody from this village had ever been drowned; perhaps there were ghosts of sailors who protected them. Crawshaw fired the first round and was rewarded firstly by a bullet from Kuryakin’s gun removing a thin line of skin from the back of his hand and secondly from the wrath of Solo knocking him to the ground where he banged his elbow onto a stone.
    "Do not fire at him."
    Crawshaw watched in amazement as Solo ran towards a small rickety shed. There were no evasive maneuvers, his gun stayed at his side the whole time. Kuryakin was crazy yet Solo stilled seemed to trust him with his life. Then the situation turned from the sublime to the ridiculous. Solo sat down in front of the shed and faced Kuryakin who was only yards away with his back to one of the boats. Wordlessly Solo raised his gun and carefully aimed, Kuryakin did the same and simultaneously they fired. Both missed. Crawshaw began to run towards Solo and both guns turned towards him so that as he ran small stones were kicked up by the bullets pelting him and causing numerous tiny bruises.
    "What are you doing?" he yelled after managing to zigzag his way to flop exhausted next to Solo.
    "This is a private fight, keep out of it!"
    For the next ten minutes Crawshaw watched as the battle became fiercer and an outline of bullet holes began to surround Solo.
    "Clip!"
    Crawshaw remained squatting on the ground with his gun resting on his knee, for he knew the instant he moved, two lethal guns would be aimed in his direction. He could only wonder if when these two so-called friends ran out of ammunition whether they would use the abundance of stones to throw at each other.
    "Napoleon, why don’t you just use the tranquil…"
    "Clip!"
    "That’s the last one."
    Both guns fired simultaneously, spitting flame and death. Kuryakin jerked slightly as he was pushed back onto the wooden boat and his gun dropped to the floor.
    "I said don’t shoot him!" said Solo pushing Crawshaw to the ground.
    "I was you," he said waving his gun in front of Solo showing that it didn’t even contain a clip. Kuryakin was on his feet gun in his left hand, he looked straight at Solo and ran towards the sea. The look he gave was of being lost and hurt, not just physically but mentally.
    "We have a sniper," shouted Solo.
    "Napoleon, you shot him, there is no sniper and now we have no ammo."
    "Illya always used to say that in a snap shot I pull to the right. That wasn’t a snap shot, it was aimed to finish the right side of the outline."
    "So?"
    "Illya was hit in the right shoulder, that’s my left. I aimed right and even if I was wrong, I pull right. I didn’t shoot him."
    "What now?" Crawshaw asked watching Kuryakin standing with his back to the sea, lost and alone.

    "I think I just lost us the game. I thought I could build his trust. You were right, I should have used tranquillisers."
    "Get down!" shouted Crawshaw as a small aeroplane skimmed over the top of their heads and headed for Kuryakin. With no ammunition between them all they could do was watch and shout warnings as Kuryakin stood his ground. The little plane dipped slightly and a rope dropped from the two man cockpit. As Kuryakin grabbed it with one hand the plane tilted dangerously and its cloth covering rippled in the wind. Then the engine gave a loud roar, stuttered then roared again and with Kuryakin hanging precariously on the swinging rope headed along the coast.
    "We lost him!" Solo said sadly.