"What you're looking at gentlemen is a photograph of a cemetery on the outskirts of Dublin…"
Napoleon Solo was all smiles as he amended his boss's narrative.
"Ireland? I take it we're on our way to the Emerald Isle."
The bushy eyebrows of the Continental Chief rose in mild amusement at what he would say next.
"Ohio, Mr. Solo. Dublin, Ohio. United States of America."
Kuryakin offered a rare smile, baring his teeth in a manner that made him appear nearly predatory. In some ways he was.
The Chief resumed his dialogue on the photograph.
"This cemetery has reportedly been the site of some rather strange goings on.'
At the raised eyebrows of both agents, Waverly waggled his finger and laughed timidly.
"Oh no, gentlemen. Nothing otherworldly, although this does appear to be an appropriate setting for that type of thing. No, the reports seem to indicate that some criminal activity is centered here, although nothing specific has been cited. We do have information, however…'
Papers were shuffled as Alexander Waverly searched for the report he needed…
"Where the devil…? Oh, here they are…"
Waverly handed out copies to Solo and Kuryakin of the report from which he was quoting now.
"On February 3rd, this year, two men were seen carrying a large box into the historic site known as Saint Ignatius Church Cemetery. An observer noticed this happening at about ten o'clock in the morning. The two men seemed to disappear from sight about midway into the cemetery, leaving no trace of where they had gone.'
Napoleon caught a sideways glance at his partner, each of them wondering how this could be UNCLE business.
"Because of the curiosity of the person who witnessed this strange event, he was compelled to remain and wait for the two men to reappear, which they did, two hours later. Emerging from behind one of the headstones, the men seemed to come from nowhere before retracing their steps out of the cemetery and to their car."
"So, what do you make of it Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin?"
Illya had nothing to offer, and waited to hear what Napoleon might say in response to this strange tale.
"Well… ahh… If these two aren't ghosts, then I would assume… hmmm… perhaps a hidden staircase of some sort…?"
Waverly harrumphed into his unlit pipe.
"Is that a question, Mr. Solo, or do you think that there is actually a staircase?"
Napoleon started to try and formulate a response but was cut off by Waverly.
"Never mind, Mr. Solo. Of course these aren't ghosts, and the police have checked the grounds and not located any kind of secret entrance to an underground facility. The men did, quite literally, disappear. Your jobs, Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, is to find out how they did and what is going on in Dublin, Ohio. You will leave today."
The two agents exchanged looks and rose from the table, more unsure of the mission now than when they had entered the door earlier.
The flight was uneventful, the arrival even less so. Solo and Kuryakin took possession of a rental car and headed for Dublin with a barely discernible sense of restlessness and foreboding.
"What do you suppose has created this strange situation? It is hardly acceptable to believe that people are actually disappearing in a graveyard."
Napoleon's reply from the passenger seat was non-committal, as was his opinion of this seemingly useless mission.
"What I can't understand is how it fits into our concerns. So far there isn't a link between this … whatever it is, and any criminal activity."
Illya's brow creased as he considered that statement.
"Well, Mr. Waverly seems to think so. He used that exact term in introducing this scenario. Do you suppose there's something that he did not tell us?"
Napoleon shook his head, not able to understand why their boss would withhold information about the situation.
"I don't think so. But, there is something about this that makes me think THRUSH could be involved. Mainly because it's so weird, perhaps."
Upon their arrival in Dublin, the two agents found a motel and checked in, glad to find a double room with a café nearby. Illya's first order of business was a meal, and he refused to go looking at cemeteries until he'd had a good one.
When at last Napoleon and Illya made their way to the Saint Ignatius Church Cemetery the day was becoming shrouded in a light fog, not unusual for the locale. Illya parked the car behind a stand of trees that bordered the old churchyard, and the two men settled in for a night of surveillance.
It was not long into the evening when two men appeared in a panel truck, parking just outside the gate to the cemetery. They appeared to be carrying suitcases, something that alerted Solo and Kuryakin to the probability that there was a need for supplies wherever the subjects were heading.
Without making a sound, the UNCLE agents slipped out of their car and followed their prey, hoping to see any openings that might lead to the supposed hidden facility beneath the old graveyard.
Illya pointed to what appeared to be a destination as a dim light began to glow among the fog shrouded headstones. He slipped noiselessly along a parallel path to the men they followed, coming up behind them just as they began to disappear behind a large monument. To Napoleon's surprise, all three men were suddenly gone from sight. Illya had been swallowed by whatever opening was there, hidden from sight but somehow physically present.
Napoleon crept to where he had last seen his partner, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of a crack or crevice. Running his fingers along the base of the large monument, he was able to discern the faintest evidence of warm air coming from beneath the surface.
"And so from Heav'n to deepest Hell; O fall
From what high state of bliss into what woe!"
Why Napoleon should find himself quoting Milton did not stop him for continuing to explore the source of the air. If it was indeed a secret entrance, obviously overlooked by whoever had done the previous search, then Solo was determined to get inside and join Kuryakin. It wouldn't do to be left topside when the storm was bound to be raging below.
Indeed, there was a storm below, and in its midst, the center of it actually, was Illya. The Russian had fallen in behind the two men he followed, only to be met by them and another, more familiar individual. He was only moderately relieved that no one had chosen to hit him on the head or otherwise heap violence upon him. That bit of luck was leveraged by the unhappy realization that the person who now stood opposite him was an old enemy, and certainly bore nothing like goodwill for the blond.
"Ah, Mr. Kuryakin. Is it just my good luck to find you here, or might it get even better by finding your partner, Mr. Solo, is following close behind?"
"Count Zark. Forgive me if I do not consider this a pleasant surprise."
Illya could have fallen into worse hands, but not much worse than the man who had terrorized him with bats. He wasn't certain which part of that affair had caused him the most distress, however; Clementine had certainly worn his patience with her constant mispronunciation of his name. He decided that bats were the worst of it.
"I am most pleased to welcome you to my new and improved laboratory. As you might guess, there are some of my pets close by, although they dwell in a farther extension of this facility. There are caves at the extreme southern end of this system, and I am quite certain that they will be happy to greet you… again."
That's when someone finally struck Illya on the head, rendering him senseless as he was carried away to the dreaded bat caves.
While this was going on, Napoleon was trying to decide on his course of action. Illya was down below, but was it best to try and barge into this stronghold, or wait until someone emerged? He decided on the latter course of action, settling in for however long it might take and hoping that his partner wasn't being mistreated, at least not too badly.
Napoleon didn't have to wait very long, for within the first thirty minutes of his watch another person approached the monument, looking around first before running his hand down the right side and stopping, seemingly to press a protruding element on the structure that caused the light from below to appear. The man, dressed in black, descended quickly into the now fading light, but not so quickly that Napoleon couldn't catch up to it and jump down into the opening. He toppled the man, delivering a quick and decisive chop to the base of his neck.
Looking around and trying to discern the environment into which he had fallen, Napoleon could see two other men at a long laboratory table full of equipment and vials. He didn't waste any time pulling his victim into the recesses of a hallway that led down what appeared to be a winding corridor that became earthen walls and rock. He heard more than saw something that made his skin crawl. Recognizing the distinctive accent, Solo immediately knew his opponent: Count Zark.
"Aha, Mr. Solo has joined us, I see. Pity you wasted your efforts on my assistant, as you can see we have been expecting you."
Napoleon straightened up and surveyed the room. He turned again to Zark, a smile on his face that belied his concerns, both about his partner and the situation facing him.
"I see you found yourself another creepy cave in which to continue your … ah, experiments. I don't suppose you have your bats with you."
Zark emitted the laugh for which he was now known. Napoleon thought it an affectation, although it did carry a certain sense of the man's sinister intentions.
"My lovely pets are already welcoming your partner, Mr. Kuryakin. I am happy to let you join him.'
With that, Zark motioned for one of his men to escort Napoleon down the dark passageway that he had noticed earlier. Wanting to see the condition of his friend, Napoleon obliged, figuring to even the odds after he knew where Illya was.
"Watch yourself, this one is not to be trusted."
The henchman nodded, sure of himself as he prodded Napoleon with a gun as they made their way down the tunnel.
Illya was just coming back to consciousness as he felt a nipping sensation on his hand. Quickly batting the blood sucker away, he jumped to his feet, faltering slightly at the sense of déjà vu that overwhelmed him.
"Chyort! Not again, get away you…"
Illya heard the approaching footsteps and fell in behind a protruding rock. He would happily clobber the next person he saw and make his getaway. With some relief, he watched as Napoleon approached with one of Zark's men at his back. Instinctively the Russian knew that Napoleon would be expecting him to mount an offensive alongside his partner.
When the two men got close enough, Illya stepped out suddenly, startling Napoleon's escort. That gave Solo just enough time to turn on the man and disarm him, while Illya delivered a decisive blow to the man's jaw. He was out immediately.
"I see you've decided to take a little breather with your friends here… I thought you didn't like bats."
The blond rolled his eyes, glad for the opportunity to engage his friend but anxious to finish this business with Zark.
"Very funny, Napoleon. Now, shall we once again disable Count Zark's operation?"
Napoleon's grin answered the question completely.
Creeping back down the corridor that led to Zark's laboratory, Napoleon and Illya checked for monitors and sensors, hoping that there would be no warning of their approach. When they arrived at the mouth of the tunnel, Zark was overseeing one of his men as he poured a foaming concoction into a glass beaker; something that the two agents assumed was part of the focus of this operation. It would be important to leave this structure intact, since destroying it would jeopardize the cemetery above it. Mr. Waverly had made mention of the historical value of this site, after all.
Illya made his way around the laboratory while Napoleon walked directly to where Zark stood. By the time the vampirish figure was aware of Solo's presence, the Russian had taken out the other two men in the room. Zark was alone now, his only hope of escape in one of his mysterious acts of magic.
"Give it up Zark. We have you this time, there's no place to escape."
Zark looked around at his fallen men, took stock of his lack of options. THRUSH had abandoned him when his aerial attack on the world's airports had failed. Now this operation was at an end. Perhaps this was not the life he had envisioned, although…
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Mr. Solo. Perhaps there is a deal, as you Americans say, that we can make."
Illya snorted in derision.
"Don't trust him, Napoleon. He'll just do another disappearing act."
Zark laughed again, that neurotic sounding attempt to evoke terror.
"You judge me harshly, Mr. Kuryakin, but accurately I must confess."
With another flourish of his cape and yet more of his cackling laugh, a plume of smoke appeared, driving back Solo and Kuryakin just enough to hinder them from grasping at the disappearing figure of Zark.
"How? He did it again."
Before Illya could respond to his partner, the dreaded sound of flapping bat wings prompted the men to dive below the lab tables, giving them only minimal coverage as Zark's pets blackened the room, sweeping past and into the unexplored caverns beyond.
As each of them rose slowly from their sheltered spaces, it was evident the bats had done more than fly by. The room was in a shambles, beakers turned over and equipment shredded from the onslaught of the frenzied swarm.
"What, exactly, do we say about this?"
Napoleon just looked around him, at the destruction and then his partner. Shrugging off an answer, he started towards the previously hidden staircase and towards the light of day.
Once above ground, Solo opened his communicator.
"Open Channel D, Solo here…"
"Yes, Mr. Solo. I've been waiting to hear from you. Report please."
Napoleon looked around the peaceful surroundings of the cemetery, his ability to describe the flurry of activity he and Illya had just experienced slightly hindered by his own incredulity.
"Well, sir… It seems that Count Zark has made another appearance. Unfortunately … ahem, well… he has also made another disappearance. I'm sorry to say that we lost him."
The absence of a reply did not immediately concern Napoleon. He'd suffered worse. Finally, Waverly resumed the dialogue.
"I see. And what do you have in his absence? I assume he left behind something of this mysterious project."
How to answer that?
"Yes, well there is a lab. Unfortunately… You see, the bats destroyed what was left of the equipment and some experiments that seemed to be going on."
"Bats, Mr. Solo? Count Zark had more bats?"
"Yes sir, it seems he has an endless supply of them. These followed him out in a swarm and destroyed everything in their path. You can have a clean up crew come in and try to salvage something of it, but…"
"But what, Mr. Solo?"
Napoleon watched as Illya climbed up out of the subterranean lab now, his expression telling of the utter waste below.
"I don't think we're going to have much to go on . Should we remain here, sir, or return to Headquarters?"
Waverly was considering the situation as he formulated his reply.
"I uh… wait for the clean up crew, Mr. Solo. I shall dispatch them immediately. After you apprise them of the situation then you and Mr. Kuryakin return to New York and file your reports.'
Illya was listening, obviously anxious to get this over with.
"Oh, and… uh, Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin?"
"I'm here sir."
"Yes, quite right. Gentlemen, Count Zark is someone we can expect to hear from again, I fear. He and THRUSH have not come to terms, making him the worst kind of freelancing lunatic. He will try and outdo his former colleagues in whatever dastardly deeds he can construct."
Napoleon and Illya exchanged glances that betrayed a subtle layer of dread. Zark and his bats were not something either man wanted to encounter again anytime soon. As it was, the blond's skin was peppered with bite marks that would require treatment, possibly for rabies.
"All right sir, we'll be vigilant to watch for any signs of activity. I'm sorry we lost him, Mr. Waverly."
"Next time, Mr. Solo. Waverly out."
By the time the clean up crew had arrived it was time for Illya to eat again, and for Napoleon to call and cancel his date with Lorena Vincent. He had hoped to be back in time, but she promised to see him another night.
"Where shall we eat? I'm starving and I don't want to fly without a meal on the ground."
Napoleon stopped to stare at his partner. He wondered once more at the Russian's capacity for eating large quantities of food, under any and all circumstances.
"You need to get checked out by medical as soon as we return to New York. Are you sure you want to do that on a full stomach?"
The response was given without a moment's hesitation.
"My stomach will not be full when we return, it will have suffered a three hour flight, not to mention waiting in the airport and driving back to headquarters. Bozhe moi, I shall need two meals. Thank you for reminding me, Napoleon."
Illya didn't let his friend see the smile on his face as walked away. Bats or no bats, he would not go hungry.