Napoleon signalled to his partner, letting him know he was running low on ammunition. Illya tossed him his last clip, with a grim look, knowing after that, sleep darts were all they’d have left.

Solo got off a few lucky shots, taking down two of their assailants, leaving two more to even up the odds.  He changed the clip in his Special and stood quickly at the window of the old saloon in which they’d taken refuge, hitting a third and just as he was ducking...that’s when he took a bullet to the shoulder.

He fell backwards with a soft thud, hitting the rickety floor board.

Illya scrambled to him across the floor and pulling off his jacket, he applied pressure to the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding.

“Don’t worry about me, just get the last...” Napoleon passed out.

“Give it up Kuryakin,” a deep voice spoke from behind him.”He was pointing a rifle directly at the Russian. “Stay on your knees and toss your gun.”

Illya complied, clasping his hands on top of his head.

“Now turn around slowly,”

“My partner needs help before he bleeds out.”

“You think I care,” the man scowled,” Now where’s that package?”

Illya smiled knowingly,” Somewhere you will never find it.”

“FIne you want to play that game?” He redirected the rifle at Solo.’Want him to die for sure?” He watched and laughed as the Russian shook his head no.” I didn’t think so.”

Illya unclasped his hands, pointing to an old brass spittoon on the floor in front of the wormhole ridden bar.

The man turned his head following Illya’s hand, and with that distraction Napoleon raised his pistol and fired twice... a double-tap straight to the heart.

“Nice,”Illya said, returning to putting pressure on Solo’s wound.

“Yeah, four zip.” Napoleon tried smiling as he sat up.

“Make that three and a half, since you being so careless at getting yourself wounded negates...” Illya started in as he helped his partner to his feet.

“Oh right, this coming from the man who missed all his shots.”

“Napoleon, I could leave you here to die you know.”