The Prompt –

Something felt wrong, but {your choice} couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. {He/she} had no real reason {him/her} to feel such a sense of disquiet, yet {he/she} couldn't seem shake it.

The Theme– - Unease

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Something felt wrong, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. He had no real reason for him to feel such a sense of disquiet, yet he couldn't seem shake it.

As he walked along the sidewalk intending to enjoy the day, the feeling of unease began to grow within him. Yet he continued on, moving casually amongst the people going about their business, seemingly without a care in the world.

That's when he saw him, reflected in the glass of nearby shop window. The face of a well known THRUSH assassin named Hayden Colophus; he was the identical twin brother of the late Garrulax Colophus.*

Napoleon could never forget that face as well as the pain and suffering inflicted by Garrulax upon Illya.

The Thrushman was killed by Solo and now the brother, no doubt, wanted his revenge.

Continuing along, the UNCLE agent ducked in among sidewalk displays of fresh cut flowers; their colors heightened by the bright sunlight shining down upon them. It was an unseasonably warm day, but welcome as it had been a cold spring season so far.

As Napoleon turned to face his pursuer, he discovered that Colophus had disappeared into the crowd.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath.

After turning round a corner into a small alleyway Solo pulled his communicator to call his partner. He'd been on his way to meet the Russian for lunch at their favorite Chinese eatery, 'Changs.'

"Open Channel F- Kuryakin."

Seconds later Illya answered with a sigh, "Yes, you are going to be late as you have met a pretty girl."

"For once you're wrong partner. I'm being followed by Hayden Colophus, though right now he's disappeared."

There was an obvious pause before Kuryakin answered for his mind had jumped to the torture session he'd endured at the hand of Hayden's brother.

"You are sure it is him?"

"Is the Pope Catholic?"

"Napoleon please, now is not the time for your ridiculous sayings. Turn on your your communicator tracker, just in case. Where are you?"

"Done. I'm at the front of the alley just past Grover's Florist."

"I am on my way...stay put. Out."

Kuryakin turned on the homing signal on his own communicator. He was only a few minutes away by foot as he dashed out to the sidewalk

Chang was accustomed to his and Napoleon's sudden departures, and turned on his heels to return the tray of food to the kitchen. His two best customers would always eventually return to pay for the wasted food, and get a take out order to go.

He never asked what they did for a living but suspected they were some sort of international spies or crazy salesmen. They always seemed very competitive with each.

Illya hurried along the sidewalk, zigzagging in and out of the way as people stopped and stared at him. He was running against the flow of human traffic, making it all the more harder to move.

As his communicator beeped a strong signal, its tone changed to one continuous drone, telling him he'd arrived where his partner was waiting.

Illya entered the alleyway, catching his breath as he looked for Solo. There was no sign of him until he found an abandoned communicator on the ground.

He picked it up, shaking his head as he now feared the worst. Hayden Colophus had Napoleon.

Kuryakin decided it best to inform Mr. Waverly of the situation.

The Old Man seemed unshaken by the Russian's report, as if somehow he'd expected this to happen.

"Sir if Mister Solo manages to turn on the tracking device I implanted in his pinky ring last year, then I will be able to locate him if he is still in the near vicinity."

"Very well Mister Kuryakin. Keep me informed. Waverly out."

That seemed rather abrupt even to the Illya who himself was known for his brevity.

He supposed since because he was upset about the situation with Napoleon that it might have made him a bit sensitive, though to look at Kuryakin no one would know he was anything but calm, cool and collected.

A feeling of angst had risen in his throat like a bitter tasting bile, and he didn't like that at all.

Napoleon woke, finding himself laying on the floor of a seemingly sterile white room. He wasn't bound or gagged and as he rose slightly unsteady to his feet; his hand instantly went to a sore spot on his neck where he'd been hit with a sleep dart.

There was no sign of a door, or window and he appeared sealed in to wherever this was.

"Hello?" Oddly enough his voice sounded muffled, as if the room had been sound proofed, as one would expect a bit of echoing in a space that was completely a hard surface such as this.

Not receiving a reply Napoleon began walking the circumference of the room, feeling along the walls for any sort of seam.

He found nothing, and that made him concerned as eventually he'd run out of air.

Checking his pockets, it came as no surprise that he'd been relieved of his gun, communicator, watch and other gadgets. His explosive tie bar was gone but discreetly opening the hollowed out heel of his right shoe, he was relieved to find his explosive putty was there.

Napoleon sighed; without his watch, setting of the explosives would be problematic.

He carefully checked and hidden in his pocket square was a book of matches; those he could use to set off the explosives.

Still it would be close; there was no place for him to duck and take cover. He figured if he rolled up his handkerchief and used it as a fuse, that would work.

"Greetings Mister Solo," a voice suddenly startled him. A small microphone had descended through a hole in the ceiling.

"I take I have the pleasure of being addressed by Hayden Colophus."

"Very good. So you did recognize me."

"You and your brother...rather you have a rather distinctive face."

Napoleon was being kind in his choice of words as the Colophus brothers were both raven-haired and ghastly pale with small noses and broad, thin lips. They weren't ugly by any means though Solo imagined that most women might find them creepy and vampirish in appearance. Their outstanding feature were their eyes, they were violet not unlike the eyes of Elizabeth Taylor who compared to the brothers was a rare beauty.

"Yes my brother. You do understand why you're here then?"

"Dare I say revenge for killing him?"

"Oh very good Mister Solo. Yes, you are going to pay the price for your misdeed."

"My misdeed?" Napoleon snapped back."It was your brother who was torturing my partner to death, so I think it was he who was committing the misdeed. I merely stopped him."

"Merely? Merely? You refer to the death of my brother like it was a trifling matter?" Hayden's voice rose in pitch.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean for it to come across that way, but it was either my partner's life or your brother's. I had to make a choice."

The guilt Napoleon carried for being in part responsible for Illya's suffering as he refused to talk. Garrulax Colophus threatened to harm Kuryakin further unless Solo told him where he'd hidden his stolen plans, and Napoleon had to end it.

He lured Garrulax to him, letting him think he was going to give him what he wanted, but instead the bound Solo kicked the Thrushie under his chin, sending his head whipping back and breaking the man's neck. •

"Regardless, , you will still have to pay the price for that choice Mister Solo. It's your turn to feel the pain of torture, but there's no Russian here to rescue you. Unlike my brother who was a bit old fashioned in the way he worked, I'm more modern; I prefer technology to his ways. So shall we begin?"

Napoleon heard a faint, high pitched tone and as it began to increase in volume he tried covering his ears, but it was pointless.

He fell to the floor, writhing in pain as he held his head, and screamed as the sound increased to an unbearable pitch.

Then it stopped.

Solo had broken out in a sweat, and as he slowly rolled over, trying to sit up, he fell down again as he was experiencing dizziness.

Napoleon laid there unable to move, waiting for Hayden to gloat, but there was nothing. Not a sound, no gloating...nothing.

Suddenly he began to tingle, and where he was in contact with the floor, he felt an electric charge. He was hit with a jolt that sent him scrambling to his feet. The heels of his shoes were rubber and they acted as a ground against the current, yet his vertigo left him unable to stand on his own and he teetered against the wall.

Again he was shocked. Unable to move, Napoleon gasped as the current raged throughout his body. It finally ceased and he slipped down the wall, crumpling to the floor in a heap as he passed out.

Solo awoke feeling wetness on his face, but it wasn't perspiration. When he opened his eyes he realized the room was flooding with water.

Standing, his dizziness gone, Napoleon backed into a corner as the water quickly rose.

He swallowed his fear, as the one thing he'd been afraid of since he was a young boy was drowning. Of course he knew how to swim but the terrible memory of nearly drowning as a child in the lake near to his family's cabin in the Catskills never left him, nor did the fear.

His father, with a mighty heave, reached into the water and pulled him up to the dock. Napoleon had fallen overboard out of the row boat that had been tied up remembered looking upwards as he sank while the dark waters enveloped him and filled his lungs…

His father wasn't here to rescue him, neither was Illya.

Napoleon took a final deep breath as he tread water, floating near to the ceiling now. He forced himself to suppress his fear, just as he had each time he had to get into the water on while on a mission.

" Illya… " he thought to himself.

Colophus had left his ring on his finger, and he mentally chastised himself for forgetting the tracker Illya had installed in it as birthday gift last year.

All he had to do was turn the star sapphire stone to activate it and hope his partner was close enough to detect the signal, as surely the Russian was already searching for him.

Kuryakin sat, perspiring in the noon sun, on a nearby bench waiting impatiently; he was jolted to attention as his communicator came to life.

It was a homing signal and that meant Napoleon had activated his ring.

"Open Channel D- Waverly."

"Yes Mister Kuryakin, your report please."

"Mister Solo just activated his tracker sir. Given its limited range, he can not be far from where he disappeared."

"I'm sending agents to you to assist in the search. Keep your communicator open so they can locate you. In the meantime I suggest young man that you get a move on. The others will catch up to you shortly."

"Yes sir," Illya looked across the street, seeing Mark and April heading towards him. "Slate and Dancer have arrived."

"Good, Sanderson, Wilkins and Keller will be bringing up the rear as it were. Good luck."

"Thank you sir, Kuryakin out."

Mark and April joined him and they were quickly brought up to speed on the situation. The two synchronized their communicators with Illya's and together they fanned out to begin their search.

Napoleon sputtered and coughed up the water he'd swallowed. Just as he was no longer able to hold his breath, the water quickly drained and he found himself lying on the floor.

The electric shocks began again, though now that he was soaked the current carried through him worse than before. He was exhausted, unable to stand.

Each time he was hit with a jolt of electricity he shrieked as it coursed through his body. Then came the sound waves and the vertigo started again, followed by more shocks.

He knew he couldn't take much more of it and as he heaved and gasped, Napoleon called out.

"Just get it over with Hayden. Kill me. That's what you want isn't it? At least I didn't make your brother suffer. It was quick and painless. I'm telling you the truth when I say I didn't mean to kill him. I was only try to stop him from hurting my partner any further."

Colophus laughed. "Are you begging for your life Solo?"

"No...I'm asking for you to kill me. Just get it over with. You'll have your revenge then and it'll be over."

"Just because my brother's death was quick doesn't mean your's will be Solo. You're going to suffer for killing my brother, and it will be a prolonged suffering, an exquisite suffering. The point of revenge is not the ending but in the process of doing."

The room filled with a cloud of noxious green gas and Napoleon choked as it filled his lungs. He finally passed out again.

When he awoke this time he was naked and strapped to a cold stainless steel table. There were lights directly overhead but that's all he could see as he was surrounded by darkness.

"Now your real pain begins Napoleon Solo," Hayden stepped into the light wearing a surgical gown and gloves. He reached out, drawing a table filled with sharp instruments close to him.

He picked up a scalpel and slowly incised with it into the agent's shoulder.

Napoleon refused to cry out for the moment. That was the only control he had over this. All he could do was shake his head as he bit down, grinding his teeth with a groan.

Several minutes later Hayden held up a square of Napoleon's skin with a pair of tweezers.

"I'm going to flay you alive, one inch at a time Solo."

Napoleon swallowed hard, bracing himself for the next cut. He'd hold out as long as he could before the agony enveloped him.

The Thrushman began to slice into the skin again and as Solo's eyes uncontrollably filled with tears but then he saw Colophus stiffen, his eyes opening wide with surprise.

He realized there was a knife protruding from Hayden's throat, it was an engraved blade that Napoleon immediately recognized as that belonging to his partner.

Hayden gurgled as blood trickled from his mouth just before he fell away from the light; seconds later Illya appeared.

"It took you long enough to activate your homing device," Kuryakin said as he grabbed a towel to staunch Solo's bleeding shoulder.

"Wasn't thinking straight at the time, but better late than never, right?"

"Yes that is a truism if ever I heard one," Illya began to undo the straps that held Napoleon down.

April stepped into the light, unfazed by Napoleon's nudity and handed him his trousers and shirt.

"Glad to see you...no pun intended," she smiled.

"Glad to be able to still be seen," Napoleon slipped on his pants, though he needed Illya's help to hold him steady.

Once they were on, his trousers seemed a bit tight; the length of the legs were short as they'd apparently shrunken from being soaked and electrified.

"Mark and the others have rounded up Colophus' goons, though there were only a few of them,"she said.

"See my suit jacket anywhere?" Napoleon asked.

"You mean this?" Illya held up a jacket that now looked like it would fit April.

"Darling, I have a feeling Mr. Waverly may push for agents to wear clothing that's wash and wear," April chuckled as she helped steady Solo on one side. Illya was holding him the other side as they guided Napoleon towards the light of a now open doorway.

"Over my dead body," Solo mumbled in reply

"That was nearly the case," Illya reminded him. He pulled his communicator still open from tracking Solo.

"Channel D-Waverly."

"Please tell me you have good news Mister Kuryakin?"

"Yes sir, we have Solo."

"Jolly good. Well done. Waverly out." He hated being so short with such good news, but he had other matters to which to attend. News from Sir Roger Hollis, the head of MI5 had been in contact with Cabinet Secretary. Sir Norman Brook was being requested to speak to war minister John Profumo in regards to ending his relationship with a woman named Christine Keeler, a London showgirl and prostitute.

Profumo started the affair with the young woman, unaware that she was also sleeping with Yevgeny Ivanov, a naval attaché at the Soviet Embassy and reportedly a spy. She was involved with drug dealer Johnny Edgecombe as well.

The affair with Profumo had now become public as the press had released the story and was sending shockwaves throughout Britain.

Waverly still had many connections with London, both political and private, having once been a member of British Intelligence. This was a messy business and he'd offered the services of his agents to deal with the situation. He was waiting to hear back from Prime Minister Harold Macmillan…

Though his agents might think him cold as a fish at times, he did care; he just didn't always have the luxury of time to show it. There was often too much on his plate and he hoped that when the day came and Solo would step into his shoes as CCO, the man would be ready to juggle the many events that came across his desk.

Lisa Rogers, seeing the furrowed brow of her boss, spoke up."Good news about Mr. Solo."

"Yes, but one must take the good with the bad."

"May I get you some chamomile tea sir?"

"Tea? Why yes my dear, a good cuppa would be lovely."

He thanked his lucky stars to have excellent assistant on days like this...

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* ref to Short Affair story- "A lot of maybes"

Garrulax Colophus is a play on the genus Garrulax leucolophus, also known as the 'white-breasted laughingthrush.'