Illya Kuryakin stood beneath a spotlight, his hands cuffed behind his back; he was unsteady on his feet. His face was battered and bruised, with one of his eyes swollen shut from his interrogation.
Somewhere in front of him a voice spoke out from the darkness. He sounded Italian.
"So finally we have the famous Russian U.N.C.L.E. agent. Though you may not believe it, even after your interrogation; I'm going to give you one more opportunity to save yourself."
The voice was a member of the T.H.R.U.S.H. Council, the inner circle of the Hierarchy, though there was no face behind it, at least that's who Kuryakin assumed it was.
The shadows and the light masked their identities, not that he knew their identities anyway. The Hierarchy was careful when it came to guarding who was the members of their ruling Council.
"And what might that be?" Illya asked.
"Spy for us on the Command and you can write your own ticket."
"Why would I want to do that? I am loyal to U.N.C.L.E. and that for which it stands."
"Yet you were disloyal to the Soviet Union weren't you?"
"In what way?"
"You refused to spy for the KGB and provide intelligence to them."
"I do not work for KGB, I am a member of Soviet military intelligence and am on loan to…"he stopped himself, figuring he'd said enough.
"Oh it's more like the Soviet Union gave you up," the voice laughed."They said you would just be killed off as they thought you were virtually worthless to them. We know you are on your KGB's most wanted list. They consider you a traitor." *
That statement told Illya T.H.R.U.S.H. obviously had a source in GRU and KGB as well.
"Not true," he said. That was a lie on his part."I will never betray the U.N.C.L.E. no matter what you do to me."
"Oh let's just kill him and get it over with," an aristocratic sounding woman with a British accent spoke up. "We won't get anywhere even with continued interrogation; his conditioning is too strong. I fear we've used our truth serum on him too many times that he's most likely developed a resistance."
"Perhaps it is time then for us to change our formulas?" A German man spoke up.
"Now is not the time to discuss such things, the Italian ordered before turning his attention back to the UNCLE agent.
"Very well, since you will not cooperate Kuryakin then you have sealed your fate,"
"But guard not here, take him elsewhere," the British woman said." I do detest the sight of blood splattering."
"Wait," a familiar female voice spoke up."Where's the fun in that, darling? Can't we find another use for him, perhaps something less final than death?"
The Italian spoke to her. "Are you trying to save him because he's your lover's partner Miss Le Chien?"
"Oh please!" She stepped out of the darkness into the spotlight. Angelique grabbed a handful of Illya's hair, yanking hard on it. "I despise this insipid little man and I for one would like to see him suffer for a very long time in a humiliating sort of way."
Another voice spoke from the darkness, another man but this one had a distinctive French accent. "And what might you propose we do Mademoiselle Le Chien?"
She ran a red fingernail along Kuryakin's chin, facing him as she spoke. "Perhaps making him my personal slave who could wait on me hand and foot." Angelique made sure Illya saw her wink at him.
He wasn't sure what that meant at all.
Several members of the Council laughed aloud at that proposal.
"And how might you accomplish that? How could you get him to do this for you, when he clearly despises you."
Illya let out a laugh. "That is not the half of it," he mumbled.
Angelique flashed him a dirty look without the others seeing. Leaning in towards him, she jabbed him in the belly with her finger. She whispered ever so softly,"Just go along with it."
She turned back to the darkness and announced, "I will kill Napoleon Solo if the Russian refuses to do my bidding."
The Frenchman called out to her. "Oh that sounds deliciously evil. While you are tormenting him to your heart's content, eventually Mr. Kuryakin might see the error of his ways and give us the UNCLE secrets we want, or you Miss Le Chien, will kill his partner, mais oui?"
"I hardly think so," Illya spoke up."I will however, take 'the dog' up on her proposal to be her servant in order to keep her from killing my partner. I will not betray UNCLE to save Solo's life, that would be something he would understand and he would do the same if he were in my position."
"Quiet, and don't you dare address me that way again Russian," Angelique backhanded him.
Illya spat blood at her feet, earning him another slap.
"You nearly got blood on my new peau de soie shoes you pig!"
Kuryakin's nostrils flared, and he gave her a cold stare with his good eye.
"How self sacrificing of you, Russian. Now what is your decision?" Angelique asked."Will you be my slave or does Napoleon die?"
"If I say no, you will kill me and most likely him as well. I see it as a no win situation."
"On the contrary, if you deny me, only Solo dies and you will live out the rest of your natural life knowing you could have saved him. Of course, you will be mine to do with as I please...permanently. What that means is a long life of suffering because you forced me to kill my favorite lover. So does Solo die or live? It's your choice."
Kuryakin lowered his head in resignation. "He lives, and I will do as you bid."
"What darling, I couldn't quite hear you," Angelique droned.
"I will do as you bid. Are you happy?"
"Very,"she smiled "And does the Council approve?"
"We are unanimous Miss La Chien, you may have the UNCLE agent to do with as you will. Keep us up to date regarding your newest acquisition should anything change his mind regarding our request for information. We know of your sexual prowess with men..."
"Yes, I will," Angelique seemed to bow to them. This told Kuryakin she wasn't counted among them as an equal.
There were footsteps and a slight shuffling with the sound of a door opening and closing; the Council members were gone.
The platinum blonde stood in front of Illya, smiling at him as she lit a cigarette. She was wearing a somewhat tight black dress, the decolletage revealing her alabaster cleavage. Yet he had no desire for the bitch, despite what the Council thought of her abilities. She would never seduce him of that Kuryakin was sure.
"Eventually you'll light my cigarettes for me and will be at my beck and call wherever I am, unless I'm with Napoleon of course. You will make no attempt to contact him, UNCLE, or escape... otherwise he dies. Oh and yes, you will never attempt to harm me either, as I will leave instructions with others to kill Napoleon. Is that all clear?"
Illya said nothing.
"I don't like repeating myself Kuryakin."
"Yes."
"Yes what? I am your mistress after all."
"Yes it is clear, Mistress, "he answered through gritted teeth.
"That's much better. Now, guard may I have your belt please?"
"Excuse me Miss La Chien, my belt?"
"Yes you buffoon. Must I repeat myself to you as well?"
"No, Ma'am. My apologies." The guard slipped his belt from his trousers and offered it to her.
"Don't hand it to me you fool, put it around his neck, so that I can lead him along like a pet. Yes, I like that idea, my little golden haired pet...who better quickly learn obedience," she warned.
Angelique took hold of the end of the belt and led Illya from the spotlight and through a pair of doors that opened with a slight whoosh.
As they walked out, he squinted at the brightly lit corridor, following Angelique like a puppet on a string. He was still wondering what she was really up to. She did keep him from being executed; that wink had to have meant something else though.
After a short walk, they stepped onto an elevator as the doors opened, accompanied by the rifle carrying T.H.R.U.S.H. guard.
As soon as the doors closed and without warning, Angelique slammed her fist against the guard's Adam's apple, taking him down. She retrieved the handcuff keys from his belt and freed Illya, who promptly grabbed her by the throat, pushing her against the wall of the elevator.
"Stop it you fool! I'm helping you to escape!"She gasped.
"And why would you do that after you threatened to kill Napoleon?" He squeezed tighter.
"Threatening to kill him was just a ruse! I had to think of a way for them to surrender you to me. Napoleon would never forgive me if I knowingly let something happen to you. I'm aware you don't believe it, but I do have a soft spot in my heart for your partner."
"In your heart or between your legs," Illya snarled.
"Well there too," she smiled. "Quickly now, we only have a few seconds; you need to hit me hard."
Illya released her.
"When the elevator opens, go up the steps and press the yellow button, that will release the door to a dressing room in the back of a men's haberdasher. Head straight out to the street, hail a cab and don't look back to see where you are ...please? A small payment for my help. Oh and you'll want this." She held out his communicator pen. "We'll say nothing of this to Napoleon."
He shook his head and though he didn't like striking a woman, regardless of who she was...he did it, knocking her out.
Seconds later the elevator doors opened and it was as she had described. Doing as instructed, Kuryakin escaped through the small men's store, moving as calmly as he could so as to not draw undue attention to himself. He'd grabbed an overcoat and fedora left hanging in the dressing room, and that enabled him to hide his disheveled condition.
Exiting to the street Illya loudly whistled, hailing a cab and gave the driver the address for Del Floria's.
He didn't recognize where he was at all and at the moment there were no visible street signs.
"Where are we?" He asked the driver but the man was busy complaining while listening to a baseball game on the radio, not paying attention to his passenger.
Illya pulled his communicator and whispered into it.
"Open channel D- Kuryakin."
"Channel D...Illya, are you all right?" It was Heather McNabb manning communications.
"I will be once I reach headquarters. I am enroute there by taxi but am sans cash and will need someone waiting outside Del Floria's to pay the driver."
"Will do and glad you're alive and well."
"Alive yes, well? Not quite. Out."
After arriving at headquarters Illya was taken up to the Medical suite to be examined. His eye need to be seen to as well as a pair of cracked ribs, a number of deep lacerations and a dislocated shoulder. He'd been in worse shape than this before and for once would not be kept overnight for observation.
His arm in a sling, ribs wrapped and his eye bandaged; Kuryakin made his way down to Alexander Waverly for debrief after he'd been given a fresh change of clothing.
Though he was unaware of the passage of time, or exactly where he'd been held, Illya quickly found out he'd been missing for nearly ten days.
"I was brought before what I presumed to be the T.H.R.U.S.H. Council sir, though they were seated in darkness and I was kept under a spotlight. I could not see who they were nor did I recognize any of their voices.
They were trying to get me to betray U.N.C.L.E. but I refused even after their... mistreatment. They did however threaten to kill Mr. Solo if I did not cooperate, but I told them that he would refuse as well were in the same position. We would never betray the command. When I escaped, I exited in some sort of men's clothing store but I did not recognize the area at all. I neglected to get that information from the cabbie. I do apologize sir."
That was enough of the truth for it all to sound plausible. Angelique could have let them kill him, and followed through on her plan to enslave him if she'd really wanted. Napoleon would have been none the wiser, yet she chose to do the right thing, regardless of her reasoning. It was best to leave that all out of his report.
"Most admirable young man, and thank you for your continued loyalty in the face of death. I think perhaps you need a few days of light duty while you recover but for now, go home. Rest is the best medicine."
"Yes sir Mr. Waverly." Illya nodded. Rest would be a good thing, not just for his body but for his mind as well. He did not like being beholding to the likes of Angelique La Chien, yet he needed to resolve those feelings.
He could not accept that she would never kill Napoleon if T.H.R.U.S.H. ordered her to do so, perhaps the best thing to do was to just let it all go. What U.N.C.L.E. and his partner did not know would not hurt them.
A week later there was a coded knock at Illya's apartment door; it was Napoleon, back from his assignment.
They'd been in touch with each other prior to his return, and Solo was relieved Illya was alive.
"Hey there tovarisch," he called as he reset the door alarm."
"Welcome home my friend," Illya removed his reading glasses, offering his hand to his partner.
"Okay, let's have a look,"Napoleon said. He eyed the remainder of the cuts and bruises. "Not too bad. I read your report but why does my gut tell me there's something you're leaving out?"
"I have no idea what you are talking about, now would you like a cup of tea? I just made a fresh pot."
"Sure that'll be fine." Napoleon followed him into the kitchen. Once the tea was poured they sat down together at the table. Illya put out a plate of Oreo cookies, one of Solo's favorites.
"It used to be I couldn't tell whether you were lying to me or not, but…"
"Napoleon, will you give it a rest. I do not know what you are talking about."
"Really, that's not what a little bird told me a little while ago."
Kuryakin sneered. "That bitch Angelique asked me not to say anything…"
"Gotcha!" Napoleon jabbed a finger at him.
"You did not speak to her?"
"Nope."
Kuryakin was unhappy that he'd let himself be lured into a trap by his best friend."
"So tell me the truth Illya," Solo bit into a cookie.
After huffing the Russian revealed she'd saved his life, having said that Napoleon would never forgive her for letting something happen to his partner.
"Really? She did that for you because of me. Well don't that beat all."
"And you can not say a word to her about it." Illya was visibly upset. "She jeopardized her life to save mine but she did it for you, not for me."
"Oh she did it for herself, don't kid yourself," Napoleon laughed. "She is rather fond of my umm... love making techniques."
"I suspect it is more than mere sex."
"Mere?Listen pal, that's a word that can never be used in relation to me and my love making, capisce?"
"I meant no offense. Napoleon the woman claimed to care about you. She said you held a special place in her heart...is that how you feel about her?"
"I suppose so," Napoleon bit into another cookie, giving his partner a wink.
"That is even more dangerous than sleeping with the enemy is it not? What if you were ordered to dispose of her?"
"Then I'd do my job, just like you'd do Illya. I might not like it, but I'd do it. She'd do the same too, despite how she feels about me. It's part of the dirty little game of espionage. Betrayal is always a possibility, and I suppose that makes our sleeping together all the more exciting."
Illya raised his glass of tea and took a sip. He wasn't so sure if Napoleon was being that truthful about being able to kill Angelique, and something made him suspect the same of her.
He said nothing...
.
.
* ref to my story "First Kill," specifically chapter 3
A/N: La Chien translates to 'the dog' The last name was coined in fanon by Linda Cornett.