*This story pre-dates "The Lost and Found Affair", both stories can be read independently but it wouldn't hurt to read both. Again, just borrowing Illya,Napoleon and the MFU for fun, not profit, as they are not owned by me. My stories are often centered around actual places and sometimes events, with my original fictional characters inserted to "play" with the boys...
"The Mind Control Affair"
"Great costume..." muttered Napoleon, with just a tinge of sarcasm in his voice" and just what the heck are you supposed to be?"
His words were directed to his partner who, clothed as usual in his black suit and black turtleneck, had added only one thing to his standard look; a small black mask covering his eyes...the type any child could buy in a five and dime store.
Illya stuck his chin out with pride" I am a cat burglar...is it not obvious?"
"Leave it to you to come up with a costume that cost you under a quarter... cheapskate!" sniped Solo."I thought you liked dressing up in disguises?"
"On an assignment when necessary...this is just a milk run at a masked ball, that we are not really attending. There is no need for anything complicated; as soon as we receive the information, we are out of here my friend," answered the Russian." once we deliver it to headquarters in the morning; we have an early flight to catch to New York!"
Napoleon huffed "party pooper..."
Illya ignored him.
"Actually" Kuryakin smiled ,"my costume cost me nothing as I borrowed from the son of le directeur de l'hotel... young Pierre told me was his Zorro mask, what ever that means...and I promised to return it to him in pristine condition. You Napoleon, however, could have shown a little more restraint in the choice of your attire...really, Napoleon Bonaparte? Even that is a little over the top for you!"
Solo straightened himself, looking rather indignant. "I think I look rather dashing!" he said, tucking his hand into the waistcoat, striking the classic Bonaparte pose."
Illya looked out at the myriad of costumed figures waltzing down below the balcony where they stood." I do not see how we are going to find our contact among all this...frockery."
"Will you stop being so negative" said Napoleon softly.
"How can I not be...we have no idea with whom we are speaking here; everyone is wearing a mask...this was a bad idea" said Illya.
"Well it wasn't mine...the contact set it up."Napoleon leaned on the white marble railing," Just keep your eye out for a woman..."
"The ballroom is filled with women, Napoleon!"
Solo finished his sentence..."a woman dressed as a French maid" ...he eyed his partner," You do know what a French maid is, don't you?"
Solo swore he heard the Russian growl at him.
The two UNCLE agents looked out over the hundreds of people from their vantage point as they moved to the landing at the top of a large sweeping marble staircase. It was New Year's Eve, Paris...
"What a night to be on a low-level courier job" Solo be-moaned "but...ours in not to reason why...c'est la vie" he said.
"There" said Illya" he nodded his head to the left"...I see her."
A petite woman; her red hair pulled up into a bun and wearing very short, black strapless French Maid's costume...the only thing on the woman's arms were little white linen cuffs at her wrists. She was walking towards the staircase and Illya could see her eyes darting about beneath her black lace mask, watching those around her has she moved through the crowd."
Napoleon pulled on the bottom of his waistcoat straightening it. "You wait here...cover me" he said as he walked past his partner"
"Gee, thanks..."mumbled Illya" oh, and try to improve your accent when you speak French this time?"
Solo ignored his partner's jab and strolled down the staircase, letting his right hand run along the cold marble hand rail as he descended to the bottom to where his contact stood waiting.
"Bonsoir Mademosielle," he smiled as he approached her with a slight bow.." it is a bit early for spring cleaning in London." he spoke the code phrase in French"
"Bonsoir Empereur Bonaparte, Ah mais je n'ai miles 'a parcourir avant de dormir_ah but I have miles to go before I sleep, she gave a little courtsy to him as she spoke the coded response.
Solo made note, her French along with her "curves" were impeccable, and he guessed she was a native, probably a section three operative from the Paris office.
"And you are?" he asked, flashing his smile at her.
"Oh pardonnez-moi Monsieur Napoléon. Vous pouvez m'appeler Eleé_ Pardon me Monsieur Napoleon, You may call me Elleé...would you like to take possession?"
"Mmmm most assuredly" he smiled, his libido kicking in "sounds like a delicious idea."
"Jay-sus! I knew this feckin' costume was a mistake! she blurted out, suddenly speaking English with a distinctly Irish accent and vernacular."Just keep yer mind on the job, boy-o!"
Someone drifted by them and she immediately and seamlessly switched back to her flawless French."So would you like to do it here or someplace quieter?" she practically hissed at him.
That statement would have normally meant the possibility of something more pleasurable to him but Solo realized this one had an "attitude" and he dropped his charm instantly. "Here is fine," he grabbed her hand suddenly leading her onto the dance floor to waltz, " so why not take it directly to headquarters yourself?' he whispered, leaning in to her as they danced.
She smelled wonderful...but Napoleon caught himself with a reminder that this one was probably trouble and decided to err on the side of caution and not make another pass at her."
"If I brought it myself, my cover might be blown...there's still more information forthcoming...so what brings UNCLE's best to a simple drop on New Year's Eve in Paris, a little below your league, isn't it?" she asked.
"My partner and I were in the area...luck of the draw I guess" he smiled.
"He is the slick one this "buachaill"_boy" her thoughts drifted in and out of her native language" thinks he's God's gift to a cailín and probably expects me to swoon at his feet..." she wondered where the Russian was, not far away she imagined, as she heard these two were pretty inseparable.
The waltz finally ended and Napoleon stepped back from the agent bowing to her as she offered him her hand.
"Merci Mademosielle," he said bluntly, as she passed a micro camera into his hand...then pulled her hand away as he tried to kiss it.
"De rien...Napoléon" she smiled and moved seductively, teasing the hell out of him for just fun, then disappeared into the myriad of Dukes, Duchesses and Devils swirling around her...thinking he and his accent were atrocious.
Solo palmed the camera into his vest pocket, then walked back up the stairs to his waiting partner.
"So what time is your date?" Illya asked dryly.
"Now why would you assume that?" he asked, as they walked toward the large double doors at the back of the staircase landing.
"You were making your usual moves on her" Illya laughed", it was plain enough."
"That obvious?" shrugged Napoleon, as they passed through the doors and into the cool night air, then walked down another flight of steps to the street; Napoleon handed a ticket to the valet for the car to be brought around.
"So the Solo charm did not work for once?" Illya said, taking a stab at deflating his partner's ego.
" 'fraid not...hope I'm not losing my touch" he answered adjusting his waistcoat again.
"I do not know my friend... shame," Illya clicked his tongue ", she had a REALLY nice body." said Kuryakin, making a rare observation about a woman to his partner.
At first he though Illya was taunting him, then understood his partner was serious.. "yeah, but this one had an attitude nastier than yours, don't think even you would have enjoyed her company," answered Napoleon, trying to rationalize his failure to charm the woman. "And besides, she was a little on the small side...being with her might have felt like it was molesting a child."
Illya ignored the insult as usual, but gave Solo a rather nasty look in return to his last remark about the woman's size. The valet appeared with the black Mercedes and the two agents climbed into it just as the clock struck midnight.
"Happy New Year Napoleon?"
"Happy New Year, tovarisch, if I a glass of champagne; I'd toast to happier times in the year to come..."
Illya drove the car away from the chateau, raising his left hand to his partner... the two bumping their fists together in lieu of the champagne.
"Za Vas_to you, my friend!" he said in Russian, sending the image of the sexy little red head in the maid's costume out his head, for the moment. He found he had been quite taken with her for some reason, which was rare for him...but they would probably not have a chance to meet, so he dismissed the idea.
"To you too and to l'amour," Solo added.
"Napoleon's toast brought the image right back again."
The senior agent's communicator suddenly chirped and he removed it quickly from from his waistcoat pocket. "Solo here" he answered.
"Mr. Solo, you and Mr. Kuryakin are needed in the Paris office immediately...you will be briefed upon arrival." Waverly out.
"The two agents looked at each other"...then sighed.
"Doesn't he ever sleep?" remarked Solo, as his partner turned the Mercedes around, heading toward the center of Paris.
Forty five minutes later, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin sat at the conference table with the head of UNCLE in Paris; Rene Duchamp, so named after his relative who was famed for his activity with the Resistance during the war. "it is most fortuitous that you were here in Paris at this time." Rene said to the two agents."Gentlemen, thank you for coming to help in this matter at such short notice...and of course on New Year's..."
"Oui...fortuite" Solo smiled, as his partner rolled his eyes, hidden behind his tinted reading glasses, and his hand. Neither of them really wanted to be there.
Duchamp flashed photographs of a French chateau on an overhead video monitor, as well as some of the documents passed via camera to them that evening by the UNCLE operative at the the New Year's masked ball. We have been monitoring the activity of this Thrush satrap located in Marseilles and have several agents there undercover...you met one of them this evening when she passed this information onto you." He handed Solo and Kuryakin folders with copies for the briefing.
"These documents outline a proposed test of a new "mind control" drug developed by Thrush...purported to be their most powerful yet. Unfortunately we know only the date the test will occur, we know nothing of the drug itself, the method of delivery, nor the the location of the test. I am afraid we are helpless and must wait until something happens and that something will happen two days from now." said Rene as he shook his head."Mr. Waverly has asked that you remain here until this supposed test takes place, to help with the investigation, after the fact."
"That's a lot of negatives...what about your agent that passed the intel to us?" asked Solo, "She said there was more information forthcoming? Have you been in contact with her again?"
"No...she contacts us. She is actually a section two agent out of the London office working for Harry Beldon, and is deep undercover along with her partner.
"Section two?"Napoleon leaned over to his partner "I thought April was the only woman in section two?"
"Apparently not..." whispered Kuryakin, then he spoke up "It will be something big" looking up from what ever it was he had been writing on his note pad...he adjusted his reading glasses on the bridge of his nose. Thrush likes their demonstrations to be on a grander scale...I have a very bad feeling about this one."
"And there's not a damn thing we can do about it" Napoleon swore tossing his file angrily onto the conference table.
Two days later somewhere in northern France, in a small village outside of Calais, dozens of corpses lay strewn everywhere. Solo and Kuryakin the senior agents on site walked among them wearing protective bio-hazard suits checking the bodies carefully. A cleanup team awaited the results of their preliminary reconnoiter.
Illya knelt, examining a man who was sitting on a bench, his throat had been slit by the bloody butcher knife still in the man's own hand...there was an old woman sitting next to him, with a plastic bag over her head...dead from suffocation. A young boy was hanging dead, dangling from a rope, strung up in a tree that was next to the bench. Such bizarre and gruesome scenes were repeated over and over as the two agents walked throughout the village.
"The all seemed to have died by their own hands" said the Russian..."I have never seen anything like this...the chemical Thrush used must be powerful indeed."
"Very macabre" added Napoleon" these bastards got an entire village of innocents to willingly kill themselves? What the hell sort of chemical could do that?"
Solo realized that Illya had been staring at the bodies of the children more than any of the others, watching as his partner would shake his head in disbelief. Illya was quite disturbed by the children's violent deaths.
"I do not know Napoleon" he paused "they have never hurt children before in all of their schemes..." the Russian observed, with just a tinge of emotion in his usually calm voice.
"Well they're apparently changing their m.o. not caring who they use to test their latest scheme" said Napoleon.
"Yes...Thrush is becoming more bloodthirsty and dangerous" added Kuryakin.
"Any ideas on the method of delivery?' asked Solo as he and his partner began their trek to the perimeter of the village.
"It is hard to say..."said Illya " I doubt it was ingested, there is no way that everyone would take it in at the same time...air born would be difficult to control. It is possible that it was delivered through multiple means... then somehow a command to commit suicide was delivered I suppose."
They had heard a number of radios still playing while they walked through the village, all tuned to the same radio station. Napoleon suddenly realized something..."The command, could it have been issued via the radio?"
"Yes quite possible," said Illya as he made mental note of the station and it's identification. Thinking to have the broadcast program from the last 24 hours checked. "The order could have been embedded subliminally in a special recording...remember what they did with Brahms Lullaby?" *
The two agents reached the the edge of the village, then removed their bio-hazard suits. "In the mean time, soil, water, flora and fauna samples need to be taken for testing...as well as anything they may have been eating..." Napoleon said giving his instructions to the team.
"Those tests, plus autopsy results will hopefully give some clue as to the chemicals used," said Illya " Once the samples and the bodies are removed, the village will have to be destroyed... I recommend by fire. This is going to be a difficult one to cover up..." he added
"I think a large petrol truck explosion in the middle of the night will provide an explanation...if one were to actually explode in the middle of the place...those houses would ignite like tinder in a second," said Napoleon.
"Agreed."
Solo pulled out his communicator "Open Channel D- overseas relay, Waverly"
"Yes Mr. Solo, what have you to report on the situation?"
"Sir, the entire village, men women and children have committed suicide en masse. Our team is going in now to recover the bodies and take samples. We suggest the village be torched...I can plant a story with the local newspapers and media that the village was tragically destroyed in the middle of the night by a petrol tanker explosion...killing all residents."
Approximate number of casualties Mr. Solo?"
"We counted 57 people dead sir. Not as large number that Mr. Kuryakin and I feared, but substantial losses none the less."
"Very well Mr. Solo, proceed with the plan..keep me informed of any further developments. This will be a difficult situation indeed to cover up...do your best." Waverly out.
The news of the terrible disaster near Calais made all the major wire services and the people of France were devastated by the terrible and senseless loss of such innocent lives...the odd thing was, no one could find out who owed the tanker truck.
A day later Solo and Kuryakin located the radio station, but by the time they arrived everything had been destroyed and the staff were also dead by their own hands. So the method of delivery for the command was at least confirmed...but there was no clue as to the content of command, if it were a simple spoken word or a subliminal message hidden behind a particular recording. Illya however, leaned toward the latter method.
A week later...there was still no conclusive test results on delivery method or the chemicals used. Illya sat at the conference table with his partner and Rene, going over the autopsy results on some of the victims.. He flipped a couple of pages checking the results several times.
"Every one of the victims so far is showing a virtually non-existent level of seratonin but conversely, their dopamine levels are off the chart." said Kuryakin.
"And that means in English?" asked Solo.
"Serotonin is a neural transmitter...sometimes called "the happiness hormone" despite not being a hormone... low levels can cause extreme sadness, depression. Dopamine, also a neural transmitter, in high levels can cause psychosis and schizophrenia." he answered.
"So these neural transmitter thingys...drove them crazy enough to commit suicide?" Solo asked.
"Not just crazy Napoleon... I believe they were driven to a feeling of utter despondency...the command that they received to kill themselves was probably a blessing to them to free themselves of their suffering", said the Russian coldly." it was a cruel death for these people.
But this also does not make sense to me...if Thrush is testing this mind control substance ...that makes people kill themselves, what purpose does that really serve? They are bent on world domination, not the elimination it's population. It seems odd that it is so "specific"...would they not want to control people for purposes other than committing suicide?" he paused for just a moment..." I have a feeling that we will see this drug manifest itself in other ways...it is about the taking away choice from the subject...their free will. If they manipulate the levels of serotonin and dopamine to varying levels in combination with other mind altering drugs; they may be able to control their subjects in uncounted ways...And even if we find out what it is they are using...there really can be no antidote against the two neural transmitters since they are natural to the body...this is most perplexing."
" Alors...this may be so Monsieur Kuryakin"said Rene," then we are no better off in what we know than when we started this investigation... we still do not know what the drug is; we only know what may be capable of doing."
They had reached an impasse in the investigation, so after reporting it's status to Alexander Waverly; he recalled Solo and Kuryakin to New York, having need of them to deal with a former acquaintance...Emory Partridge. Leaving the Paris office, with the operatives from London to continue to monitor and handle the situation.
* reference to "Her Master's Voice Affair "