Napoleon held his breath as the ball bounced around the spinning roulette wheel. Ordinarily he would be hoping for the ball to settle on his chosen number but, this time, he didn't want the wheel to stop spinning at all.
Angelique smiled an enigmatic smile, raising her glass of champagne to the curve of her blood red lips.
Napoleon's mouth was dry. Any one of those spinning pockets spelled doom for Illya. This was no ordinary game of roulette. Each number dictated a form of execution. Black 17, Illya would be boiled alive. Red 14, he would be thrown to the alligators. Black 24, the most merciful, a simple bullet through his heart.
Angelique sipped her drink with feline grace.
Napoleon watched the little ball tumble round the wheel. His mind raced insanely, formulating and discarding plans with manic speed. His heart thudded against his rib cage, counting down the last minutes of Illya's existence.
The Russian himself lay insensible on the table, sprawled across the numbers which held his fate. The most valuable stake with which Napoleon had ever gambled, much more valuable than he had ever counted his own life.
The wheel span, the ball rattled and tumbled. Napoleon closed his eyes, as if in prayer.
Angelique continued to sip her drink.
Illya's face was serene, no hint of reproach. He had warned Napoleon, if ordered, Angelique would kill without qualm, but Napoleon had thought he hazarded only his own life. The dalliance was useful, the frisson piquant. The price, unbearable.
Angelique regarded him with assessing eyes, peeling away the calculated artifice of his façade. Appraising the turmoil beneath with chilling precision.
The wheel slowed, the little ball skipped capriciously, jumping tantalisingly from one possible resting place to another. Its increasingly erratic progress conjured an agony of horrifying images in Napoleon's imagination.
The Russian slept on, a gentle boyish smile on his lips.
Napoleon swallowed dryly.
Angelique reached out and touched one of the Russian's shiny black shoes, turning his foot slightly, as if measuring horseflesh at a fair. Napoleon's stomach convulsed in protest on his partner's behalf.
The wheel continued to slow, the rattle of the little ball's progress dropped in tone, as if it too had grasped the ultimate solemnity of its merry orbit.
Angelique turned her attention to the wheel, watching the decaying momentum of the little ball with cool disinterest.
''I've never begged'' said Napoleon quietly ''But you have the power to stop this.''
Angelique sipped her champagne.
''I'll give you what you want'' offered Napoleon.
Unperturbed, Angelique continued to sip her champagne.
''All of it'' surrendered Napoleon.
Angelique smiled ''THRUSH would be glad to see you out of the game.''
''All of it'' repeated Napoleon desperately.
''My days of being useful to THRUSH are limited'' Angelique mused aloud ''They are not interested in my brain, and I have little interest in the subjugation of mankind.''
''Just the subjugation of one man'' observed Napoleon bitterly.
Angelique inclined her head in acknowledgement ''I want you, Napoleon. All of you, not the crumbs of your bed, you scatter so freely. I want what you hold in reserve. What you give to the Russian. He is one who will never be numbered amongst your lovers, and yet it is he who has your heart.''
''You've spent too long in THRUSH if you think you can capture a man's heart in chains'' replied Napoleon.
''And you've spent too long in U.N.C.L.E., if you think I would settle for less'' responded Angelique.
''Marriage?'' confirmed Napoleon ''That is your price?''
''Not a sham, Napoleon'' bargained Angelique ''I want more of you than the Russian demands.''
''What Illya has, he has never demanded'' replied Napoleon ''Nor even requested, I gave my affection freely.''
The wheel slowed until it had almost stopped and the little ball settled irrevocably for Red 18.
Illya didn't stir.
''They'll force you to watch'' observed Angelique ''The dogs are small, lapdogs, hardly bigger than rats, but they are hungry. He will not be allowed the luxury of a swift death. You'll hear his screams until you die.''
''Marriage'' repeated Napoleon tonelessly.
''You'd have to leave U.N.C.L.E., they'd never accept it'' said Angelique ''But I would leave THRUSH.''
''For the suburbs and a white picket fence?'' suggested Napoleon sardonically.
''Or a ranch with a thousand head of cattle'' countered Angelique ''I want a husband, not a slave.''
''There are other ways'' reproached Napoleon.
''I've never liked the odds'' replied Angelique ''I prefer to be more certain of my investment. You will not stray while the Russian is the price of your infidelity.''
''Or my neglect?'' added Napoleon.
''The life of the Russian, in exchange for a life with me'' answered Angelique ''I flatter myself the proposal is not without its charm.''
Napoleon bowed in acknowledgement.
''Then I leave you to keep your word, Napoleon'' said Angelique, handing over a small case containing a phial of liquid and a syringe ''And I will keep mine.''
''You trust me?'' asked Napoleon ''To administer it? So he won't remember? Before he's shipped back to a life of contented obscurity in his homeland, just another agent for U.N.C.L.E. to file among the missing? Believing the lie because I tell them it's true?''
For a few inscrutable seconds, Angelique studied the face of her fiancé and then she replied with unassailable confidence ''I do.''
END
