Napoleon Solo had been away on assignment for just over a month when he received news. He simply refused to accept it, and now he stood at a precipice, not literally but figuratively. A decision had to be made, and it was one he didn't want to make.
Alexander Waverly told him it was time to take on a new partner, since the passing of Illya Kuryakin at the hands of THRUSH that had taken place several months ago.
There were few times that Solo would question one of Mr. Waverly's decisions, but this would be one of them. He didn't want a new partner, as that would be admitting Illya was indeed dead. He wasn't ready to do that, for his heart of hearts, he felt...no he knew Illya Kuryakin was alive out there, where ever he was? The body had never been found.
The Russian disappeared and was presumed dead while dealing with a supposed satrapy on a small island somewhere in the the South Pacific.
At first Napoleon thought Illya lucky to have garnered the assignment in a lush tropical setting, with all those gorgeous native women. Though knowing Kuryakin, he'd be more fascinated in the flora and fauna, than the girls.
He knew the Russian definitely liked women, but Illya's self control when around them never ceased to amaze the American.
.
Waverly tossed a few files on the conference table, sending them around to his CEA.
"Take a look at these; I want you to choose your own partner this time, rather than me just assigning you one. That much of a courtesy I will give you Mr. Solo."
Napoleon picked up one of the folders, thumbing through it without interest before he let his anger rise to the surface and get the better of him.'
"No sir, I don't think so," he said rather pointedly, sharply tossing the file down to the table.
"You don't think so what, Mr. Solo?" Waverly replied calmly.
"I'm not going to pick a new partner or be assigned one. I already have one. Illya...Mr. Kuryakin is alive."
"And how do you know this?" The Old Man's bushy eyebrows arched in surprise.
"I can feel it."
"Don't be ridiculous, that's your confounded friendship for this man influencing your instincts. I told you no good would come of the two of you being too familiar with each other. Partnerships are meant for a working relationship and not this...buddy buddy kinship. Now, pick a partner and get over it young man."
"No sir, I won't back down. I'm standing my ground on this one, no disrespect meant." Napoleon sat straight in his chair, looking indignant.
"Well you are being disrespectful, to me and to the rules of the Command." Waverly picked up his pipe, contemplating lighting it up to keep himself calm, as even he could let his temper loose at times. This perhaps would be one of them.
"I know I have in the past let you go in search of Mr. Kuryakin, but this time there was irrefutable proof he was killed when the satrapy blew up, taking out half the island in the process. His weapon was found as well as remnants of clothing containing his identification. There was simply nothing left of him to search for."
"I don't believe he's dead."
"Confound it man, you must stop this nonsense now!" Waverly pounded his fist on the table. "Get over it and move on!"
"There's nothing to get over. Illya Kuryakin is alive. I'm standing my ground on this and won't be turned around." Napoleon answered defiantly.
"That's your final answer?"
"Yes sir it is."
Waverly huffed, not happy at his next decision. "Mr. Solo, you are hereby suspended until further notice. The issue will be taken before Section I in regards to you refusing to comply with a direct order. You realize your career with the Command could be in jeopardy?"
"Yes sir I do, but you can stand me up at the gates of hell if you want, but I'm not backing down on this," Napoleon rose from his seat and without another word, he walked out of Alexander Waverly's conference room.
Would he regret this decision? Perhaps, but he wasn't going give up on his partner; Illya Kuryakin was his best friend, it was as simple as that. Now Napoleon just needed to prove he was right about him being alive and find the missing Russian.
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A blond man woke, face down in the sand and shaking his throbbing head; he lifted himself up by his arms, finding himself in a near state of undress. with his clothes ripped to shreds. He had no idea why he was in this condition, nor where he was for that matter, and suddenly realized he didn't know who he was either.
His muscles ached as he finally got to his feet, and looking around he could see clouds of acrid smoke lingering in the air.
"What happened here?" He asked himself as he walked down the empty strand, not seeing another soul. It hurt with every step he took, and finally grabbing his side, as it was painful to breath; he sat down, not sure what to do.
Feeling exhausted, he laid down while letting the warmth of the hot sand soothe his aches. He dozed off into a blessed sleep.
Strange dreams filled his head; explosions, gunshots...screams. There was an image of a man, though it was blurry. He was a handsome fellow, with dark hair and what looked like a cleft chin.
The blond awoke with a start as a voice spoke to him.
"Aloha oe," a pretty dark haired girl was speaking to him. "Mister are you all right?"
He reached up with his hand, shielding his eyes from the sun. " I am not quite sure."
"Were you caught it that big explosion...your clothes sure look like it."
"Honestly I do not know...where is this place?"
She looked at him rather strangely. "It is Kama Atoll, not far from my island. We took our canoes and came over to check things out. The explosion took away half the atoll, like it was a volcanic explosion or something."
"Did you find anyone else alive?"
"Not a soul, you're the only one.." She watched as Illya tried to rise, still in pain.
"You're hurt, please let me help you?"
"No I am fine," for some reason that answer felt very familiar to him as if he'd said it many times in the past.
He began to swoon and the woman grabbed hold of him, steadying him on his feet. She guided him to the shore line and into one of the waiting canoes, with some of the men helping the blond stranger get in.
Their passenger curled up in a ball, trying not to show his pain.
As the canoe was pushed into the water, and paddled away, a new problem developed in the choppy water. The stranger became seasick, breaking out in a cold sweat and looking paler than he already was.
He was embarrassed by it, and after vomiting over the side, he wiped his mouth with what was left of his shirt sleeve, and closed his eyes as he tried to fight off the nausea.
When the canoes finally landed, the men made up a quick stretcher of sorts and carried him to one of the huts where he could be tended to.
At the moment, the best they could manage was to give some herbs to settle his stomach and water. The girl who found him, `Auli`i, tended to him with wet compresses on his forehead and cleaned his cuts.
Dr. Henderson was on the other side of the island, seeing to the birth of a baby and wouldn't be back for hours and when he finally returned, he was hurried along to help the blond stranger.
Illya Kuryakin was awake by this time, and tried smiling as the grey-haired physician looked over him, finding no serious injuries, just cuts and some very large bruises.. The doctor took a syringe from his medical bag, intending to give his patient something for the pain.
"What is that?" Illya asked.
"Morphine."
"No."
"Why not? You're in pain aren't you?"
"I do not know why, but no painkillers."
"How about some aspirin," the doctor asked gruffly. He was a former American Navy doctor, and after the war he'd returned to the island to marry a girl he'd met there, and there he stayed.
"Yes, aspirin will be fine, thank you." Illya tried not to be rude.
"So I hear a bit of an accent there," Henderson said."Where you from?"
"I do not know, nor do I know my name. I woke up on the beach on one of your nearby islands in this state. There had apparently been quite an explosion, so from my condition and what was left of my clothes, I think it is safe to say I might have been caught in the concussion."
"Speaking of concussion, how is your head?"
"A little headache."
"Nausea?
"Only when I was seasick."
Henderson smiled at that answer, examining him further, checking pupillary reaction, and doing vision tests.
"No sign of a concussion that I can see, though you have a good sized lump on your head. You should just take it easy for a few days, and hopefully things will start to come back to you." He patted his patient on the shoulder.
`Auli`i came inside to check on Illya. "How is he Uncle Mike?"
"Uncle?" Illya asked, feeling that word was of significance to him.
"Yes `Auli'i is the daughter of my wife's brother," Henderson answered. "and in answer to your question young lady, I think the patient will make a full recovery, given a little time and some tender loving care.."
"That's good to hear,' she smiled. "Have you remembered your name?"
"Sorry, no."
"Then we have to call you something, we can't just say, 'hey you."
Illya laughed at that, but held his head as that made it hurt more.
"Then by all means, give me a name please?"
"Well your eyes are what stand out to me, they are a beautiful shade of blue, so I will call you Maka Nani, which means beautiful eyes."
"Thank you, I think?" Illya smiled.
Weeks turned into months, and Maka Nani recovered fully, except for his memory. His dreams were becoming more vivid though, and the man with the dark hair and beguiling smile haunted him every night.
Maka Nani had a knack for fixing things, especially anything electronic and soon repaired the shortwave radio that was so essential to maintain communications with the outside world. He made himself as useful as he could and in return Dr. Henderson let man have at his library, as he seemed insatiable when it came to knowledge.
There was a monthly supply ship that visited the island and Dr. Henderson suggested Maka Nani take it back to Hawaii, on the off chance things there might help jog his memory.
He politely refused, thinking he needed to remain in this area... the nearby Atoll was of some importance and if anyone, perhaps this dark-haired man, came looking for him, then he needed to stay put.
The island had a small town with general store, a school for the local children, as well as a bar, and high atop one of the hills was a simple white church. `Auli`i tried taking Maka Nani there for Sunday services, but he refused, saying he did not believe in God. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he just did.
Instead he headed to the bar in town, as he'd become friendly with the proprietor, an old sea dog named Donovan. There while sitting over a couple of warm beers, the man would tell him his stories of the war in the Pacific.
They seemed to bring Maka Nani some recollections when Donovan would talk about the roar on the big guns on the battleships.
There was a deep seeded memory of his hearing such loud explosions on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't place it, like so many other things. Once in awhile he would do or say something that was automatic and most likely old habit, still he had no recollection of why he did or said certain things.
He walked behind the bar to get him and Donovan two more beers, when a pelican flew inside, past the saloon doors, slamming right into the blond's back. The beer bottles went flying, exploding everywhere, and he let out a word that wasn't English. "Chyort!" He yelped, but stopped himself cocking his head to one side, wondering what he'd just said.
"Hey, I know that lingo...that's Russkie. Hey don't mind Wally there," Donovan said, referring to the pelican." He stops in for a beer once in awhile. Odd sort of bird but he's friendly.
"Bird?" Maka Nani repeated the word, again feeling it had another meaning. He massaged his temple with his fingertips, "Yes that was Russian...and I am Russian, I think."
"Well good on ye mate," a man said, walking into the bar. It was Tommy 'Guns' Hoolihan, Donovan's buddy from Australia. "So you remembered something else."
"I guess?" Maka Nani shrugged.
"So maybe you were a seaman on a Russian frigate and fell overboard," Tommy suggested.
"Nah," Donovan chimed in. "He wasn't dressed like no sailor you dope."
"Crikey, now don't start with the name calling mate."
Donovan opened a beer, setting it down on the bar in front of Tommy, so hard at a bit of the drinks shot up from the neck of it.
"I wasn't calling you a name, I was stating a fact."
"Oh yeah, well here's a fact for you!" Tommy brought down his beer bottle on top of Donovan's head, and instantly a brawl ensued with every patron there suddenly joining in for the hell of it.
Maka Nani tried ducking out, but someone grabbed him, taking a swing. He dodged it easily, giving the man a karate chop to the neck. Two more men dove at him and he sent one flying across the room with a roundhouse kick and he dispatched the other with a wicked right uppercut to the jaw.
When he stopped, Donovan and the others were staring at him. "You some sort of Russkie spy or something?"
He looked down at his hands, realizing they seemed more like weapons.
"I do not know? Tell me, why do you two, who are supposed to be friends fight the way you do?"
"Aw, it has something to do with a hoochie-coochie girl in Manila...long story for another time," Donovan said, getting them more beers while the patrons helped clean up the place.*
Months passed and one day a small cargo ship, not the monthly supply one, dropped anchor in the harbor. Men armed with rather strange looking rifles disembarked and began taking islanders hostage.
Maka Nani was in his hut with Auli`i; the two of them were involved in a heated moment of serious necking. He'd developed an interest in her, and she with him, and they were just in the beginning stages of becoming intimate.
Though her family wanted them to marry, for some reason he refused, saying he wasn't allowed, as it was against the rules.
They looked at him, bewildered at that answer, and prayed Auli`i hadn't gotten herself involved with a lunatic.
A man stepped into their hut, pointing a rifle at the couple."Well look who we have here?" He said. "All right Kuryakin, you and the girl stand up slowly."
"Kuryakin?" Illya parotted back.
"Don't play games with me, you know damn well you're Illya Kuryakin from UNCLE. You were the little bastard who blew up half our island along with our satrapy. The boss is going to love getting hold of you. Now hands on your head, and no monkey business."
"Let the girl go, since your interest is in me."
"Shut up and get moving." He nudged them along with his rifle barrel.
"Maka Nani, I'm frightened," the girl whispered.
"Everything will be fine," Illya said, "trust me."
"Shut up you two and get moving.
Illya and Auli`i were led to Dr. Henderson's house, where the physician and the town elders were being held.
A bald man sat in a high-back wicker chair, sipping a cool drink, when he spotted the agent. He slowly put down his beverage on a nearby table and rose, walking with deliberation to Kuryakin. Without hesitation, he backhanded him. The guard grabbed Illya, pulling his arms back, holding him in place.
The Russian showed no reaction, and the man hit him repeatedly, again and again until Illya finally spat blood.
"I'm going to take great pleasure in making you suffer for what you did," Miles Grennan snickered.
"Leave him alone!"Auli`i cried out.
"And who do we have here?" Grennan reached out, taking the girl by the chin.' A lover perhaps, to show such concern?" The look in Illya's eyes gave the answer away."
Grennan, pulled at Auli`i's sarong, ripping it from her, leaving her nearly naked.
"You touch her and I will kill you!" Illya snarled.
"You are in no position to be making threats,"Grennan sneered. "Take the girl to the boat and put her in my quarters," he ordered one of the guards.
Illya tried diving at him, but a rifle butt smashed down on the agent's head, knocking him out.
"Take him to the boat too and lock him in the brig."
They dragged the unconscious agent and the struggling girl away as ordered.
"What do you want from us?"Henderson demanded.
"You and the people on this island are going to rebuild my satrapy for me here. We'll be off-loading the supplies tomorrow." Grennan gloated with an almost malignant pleasure.
"You'll never get away with this," the doctor challenged him.
"Oh but dear Doctor, I already have. You see, word has been spread there's a Typhus outbreak on the island, brought by a certain blond foreigner. So you've been quarantined; no one will come within miles of this place."
.
Napoleon, though suspended was not banned from headquarters and he spent much his time listening to THRUSH communications.
When he heard the broadcast about an island in the South pacific being made to look as though it was quarantined, he knew something was up, as it was near the Atoll where Illya was supposedly killed. Solo's mouth fell open when he heard the next communique...Illya Kuryakin had been taken prisoner.
"Yes!" Napoleon shouted out, jumping up from his chair and startling the communications specialist seated beside him.
He immediately informed Waverly of the news.
The Old Man smiled."Needless to say you are no longer on suspension Mr. Solo. Go find him, and stop whatever THRUSH is up to."
Napoleon boarded an UNCLE Learjet, heading first to California, and from there, he'd travel by boat to the island, along with him were April Dance and Mark Slate as his backup.
.
Donovan and Hoolihan got wind of the island being invaded, and grabbing their rifles they retreated into the jungle, but close enough to the shore line to check out the boat in the harbor.
When the arrived, they spotted a smaller boat pulling into a nearby lagoon. In it were two men and an auburn-haired woman all dressed in camouflage uniforms. Figuring they were part of the group taking over the island, they decided to take them hostage.
As Napoleon tied off the boat, he heard a rifle bolt cock behind him.
"Put your hands on your head and turn around," a gruff voice ordered.
"What are you blokes doing here invading our island? Tommy demanded.
"Now wait a minute, we're not invading. We're here to rescue a friend. His name is Illya Kuryakin," Napoleon said.
"Who?"
"He's Russian darling, long blond hair, blue eyes and about 5'7"...sort of slightly built." April chimed in.
Donovan and Tommy looked at each other in surprise.
"Oy so that's his name. Poor fella lost his memory in some sort of explosion. The locals here called him Maka Nani, for lack of a better name."
"Maka Nani?" April smiled, "That means beautiful eyes doesn't it?"
Napoleon sniffed. "So do you know where we can find our friend."
"He's on that freighter there along with his girlfriend Auli`i, being held hostage so's the islanders will cooperate. The people taking over the have a good bit of hurt planned for him I think. I hate to imagine what they're going to do to the girl."
"Girlfriend?" Napoleon cocked an eyebrow as he smiled. The little Russian had apparently been busy.
"Well, what say we help rid you of this pesky bird invasion, so we can rescue our friend and the girl." Napoleon said.
"Bird invasion mate, what the bloody hell are you talking about?"
"These people are part of an organization called THRUSH It stands for...well, let's just say their goal is to dominate the world. We're from an organization called UNCLE and we stop the baddies like THRUSH."
"They're as bad as they get," April added.
"Crikey, say no more. What do you need us to do?" Tommy offered his hand in friendship as did Donovan.
The agents, Donovan and Hoolihan gathered up the locals who hadn't been corralled yet, and along with every possible weapon they could find, from machetes, butcher knives, and even some vintage spears.
The simply invaded Henderson's home and overwhelmed the THRUSH guards by sheer numbers. The operation resulted in a few wounds to the locals, but nothing Dr. Henderson couldn't take care of.
Grennan, however, had returned to his boat and was unaware of what was going on.
"Now to get Illya and the girl, "Napoleon said. He Mark and April returned to their boat, but this time dressed in THRUSH uniforms, ready to head to the frigate.
There was a sudden explosion on the boat, making them all gasp.
"Illya," they said together.
.
Illya Kuryakin woke in a dank, mouldy brig, holding his hand to his throbbing head. His face still stung from Grennan's blow.
He felt different, and out of the blue, he said his name aloud. His memory had returned, no doubt brought on by the blow to his head.
Illya went immediately into escape mode, searching the cell for anything useful after he examined the lock on the cell door. It was a simple one, and all he needed was a piece of wire, and that he found above his head, wrapped around a light fixture to keep it in place.
Within minutes he had the cell door unlocked and he was padding barefoot down the unguarded corridor. He came to the cargo hold door and he turned the handle, hoping to find something there that could be used as a weapon.
Illya's eyes went wide, and he smiled, seeing a crate marked 'plastique.' That would do nicely. He took several bricks of the plastic explosives and timers and returned to the corridor.
He heard voices coming towards him, and ducked into an alcove to hide. Putting down the explosives; he prepared himself to do battle.
"Okay Ernie, I'm heading topside. You go check and see if Kuryakin is awake yet."
Illya waited, hearing the men separate, and carefully followed the one who was to be checking on him. As the guard saw the open brig door, he cursed.
Illya tapped him on the shoulder.
"Looking for me?" He slammed the started guard with his fist, knocking him out and took his uniform, dragging the man into cell, and locked him inside it.
Illya set about putting the explosives in strategic locations throughout the ship, setting the timers at an hour. That he estimated was more than enough time for him to find Auli`i. He was exploring the level where the cabin spaces where, when he heard a shrill scream.
It was Auli`i, and that cry led him to exactly the right cabin.
He slammed his shoulder against the louvered door, and bursting in, he found Grennan on top of the girl, trying to rape her.
He pulled away at the sound of the crash, turning in surprise to face the Russian. "How did you..."
Illya didn't let him finish, and smashed the rifle butt as hard as he could against Grennan's head, splitting his skull open.
Blood spattered on Auli`i and she sobbedas Illya took her into his arms to comfort her.
"Is he dead?"
"I told him I would kill him if he touched you, and I am a man of my word."
"You've gotten back your memory haven't you?"
"Yes, my name is indeed Illya Kuryakin and I work for an organization called UNCLE...he explained his background quickly as they needed to get off the ship before it was blown to bits.
Illya wrapped Auli`i in one of Grennan's suit jackets, and together they commandeered a small dinghy, making their escape. Just as they reached the shoreline the small freighter erupted in a spectacular explosion.
Minutes later, Napoleon spotted his partner walking along the beach with his arm wrapped around a pretty dark haired girl.
"Illya!' He shouted out, delighted to see his friend was indeed alive.
They two men grabbed each other in a bear hug, and released each other while still holding on, both sporting wide grins.
Introductions were made all around and once everything had been settled on the island and a cleanup crew ordered for the THRUSH captives, it was time to leave.
Dr. Henderson and the islanders walked the four agents to their boat, thanking them for the rescue. Napoleon gave them his card, telling them if THRUSH dared to return, they should contact him immediately.
Illya shook hands with Donovan and Tommy, saying his goodbyes, leaving Auli`i last to be dealt with.
Napoleon, April and Mark discreetly disappeared on board their small boat that would take them to the cargo ship, there they waited for Illya.
Auli'i, was beautiful, wrapped in a sky blue sarong, with her silky dark hair toppling down past her bare shoulders.
"I am sorry," Illya said, " but I must go. I know who I am now and I have a very important job to do. I will never forget you."
He took her in his arms, giving her one long passionate kiss.
When he released her, she said nothing. What was there to say? Auli`i somehow knew that when he regained his memory, he would no longer be hers...
Illya turned, joining his friends in the boat and the girl watched as it slowly disappeared into the horizon.
"A hui hou kakou... Nau ko'u aloha, Maka Nani_until we meet again...my love is yours, Beautiful Eyes." She whispered to the wind.
Five days later, Illya sat at the back table in the commissary in New York with April Dancer,and was a bit astonished at what she had just told him.
"You heard me right Napoleon risked his career with UNCLE to find you. He never for once believed you were dead, and when Mr. Waverly ordered him to select a new partner her refused. All of headquarters was amazed how he stood his ground for you and wouldn't back down. He was suspended for defying a direct order, the issue was up for review before Secion I. I'm just glad the Old Man let it slide, since Napoleon gave him proof you weren't dead."
"Thank goodness THRUSH has a bad habit of not guarding their radio transmissions," Napoleon said, pulling up a chair at the table.
"I would like to thank you for not giving up on me," Illya said.
"I stood my ground for you, so just you remember that tovarisch," Napoleon joked.
"Oh here it comes, the blackmail begins, "April giggled. "thing never change."
"Oh nooo, no blackmail Napoleon. You know I could go very easily back to that tropical paradise...there is a pretty girl there who would be very happy to see me," Illya chided.
"You know sometimes you're just no fun Kuryakin," Napoleon droned.
"Admit it, you missed me my friend, did you not?" Kuryakin grinned, which was something he rarely did.
"Very much so, chum. Very much so." Napoleon clapped a hand on the Russian's shoulder.
.
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* a little l 'homage' to the movie "Donovan's Reef"