Prompt: 354 – Mummy - Night at the Museum Affair- spikesgirl58 – Man from UNCLE
Title: Night at the Museum Affair
Fandom: man from UNCLE
Prompt: 354 – Mummy
Warnings: None really, except that this ISN'T fully beta'd yet.
Rating: G
Summary: Napoleon and Illya spend a night in the museum. Did that mummy move?
Napoleon Solo walked quietly, his footsteps silent against the polished marble floor. Every few steps, he would pause, look left and then right, then continue.
To either side of him, the museum exhibits remained silent testaments to the days that were. He didn't mind as much when he was in one of the art galleries, but the natural history wing was giving him the heebie-jeebies.
There was a small table set off to one side, behind an exhibit of a pack of four wolves taking down a deer. He ignored the way the wolves' eyes seemed to glint in the half light. Napoleon shook the image from his mind. An agent couldn't afford to let his imagination run wild. He took a sip of coffee from the paper cup and made a face. This stuff was even worse than the canteen's coffee
He sat down and flipped open the log book. He made a neat entry and took his communicator from his jacket pocket.
"Open Channel F, please. Illya, are you there?"
"Yes, and I rather wish I wasn't."
"Why?"
"I keep hearing… things."
"Where are you? I'm in the Natural History section and these wolves are looking hungrier by the minute. And I think one of the dinosaurs is flirting with me."
"She must in enraptured with you."
"Oh, Illya. Don't quit your day job."
"It's the night one I want to be rid of. I'm in the Egyptian wing - just me and about a hundred mummies. Do you know that if you stare at mummies long enough, they move? They do. I swear."
Napoleon chuckled. Illya loved to pull his leg. "Did you spot anything?"
"No, the crown jewels of Slovinka are safe and sound. I haven't seen hide or feather of THRUSH."
"Okay, well, stay in touch. I will contact the other agents… and stop playing with the senet boards."
"I'm not!"
"I saw how you were studying them this morning."
"I just thought it was interesting and I liked the playing pieces."
"They'll be counting them before you leave. I'll make sure of it. Solo out."
Illya capped his communicator and tucked it back away. Truly he had been joking about the mummies, but he had a very uneasy feeling here. Perhaps it was his history with Egypt and the fact that three times that country's desert had nearly killed him. The only thing that saved him the last time had been a tiny cat by the name of Bastet. He tossed his empty coffee cup in the trash and went back to work
He moved quickly through the mummy exhibit and stopped in front of a display case with hundreds of cat statues. Egypt had revered cats and worshipped them. They had mummified cats, erected huge temples to them and even prayed to a cat deity. The cats had never forgotten that. He ached to reach out and stroke the Bastet sarcophagus that was displayed. It was inlayed with precious jewels, but it was its eyes that captured his attention and imagination. They were so life-like, so knowing. Despite knowing better, he reached out and stroked the carved head. He could almost feel the responding purr.
The hair on the back of Illya's neck stood up and he whipped around. Nothing was changed and yet…
Clearing his throat, Illya moved to the case with the senet boards in them. Some of the boards were lovingly carved and inlayed with precious lapis lazuli. Others had markers of cut and polished glass. Some were more crudely made and the playing pieces were nothing but bit of wood. Everything was neatly stored underneath, so none of the pieces could get lost.
Who would ever know - Illya's thought was cut off as something musty and smelling of death suddenly enveloped his mouth and nose. Just for a moment, he managed to crank his head around and stare into the long dead face of a mummified corpse. Then, nothing.
Napoleon smiled affectionately at his communicator as he switched channels. "Open Channel G. Luis, how are you doing?" Luis had been stationed in the Greek and Roman wings. Napoleon frowned, checked his communicator and tried again. "Luis? Agent Hernandez, report."
When that didn't bring any response, Napoleon first impulse was to call Illya back, but Hillary Cook was closer. "Agent Cook, are you there?"
"Hi, Napoleon. How goes the world of Natural Wonders?"
Without meaning to, Napoleon glanced back at the display where the three wolves were still trying to bring the deer down. At least the deer had stamina. "Very selective. Listen, I was trying to raise Luis. Do you think you could pop over there and see if he's okay?"
"Sure. Nothing is happening in the historic world of fashion."
"Don't knock it. If it wasn't for fashion, we'd all be wearing…" Napoleon stopped just then.
"Napoleon?"
"There were four wolves…" He looked back and Napoleon's eyes widened as the wolf stalked towards him. He reached into his jacket for his weapon and something hit him in the small of the back, dropping him with a groan. A mass of gray fur covered his mouth and he choked. His last conscious sight was that of a yellow eye staring into his.
A blast of water caught Napoleon full in the face and he came to with a sputter and a curse. He looked around, confused, as he struggled to escape the knots that bound his wrists. They were in a vault?
"No need to try that. They will hold. Welcome back, Mr. Solo." He knew that voice.
"Francis Delany," Napoleon muttered. He was happy to see his colleagues, tied up but alive, not far from him.
"Ah, you do remember?"
"How could I forget? It takes a lot of talent to lose a tank, an entire military compound, and a jet, all before breakfast. Still as incompetent as always."
The kick to his side made Napoleon crumple back down to the floor. "You would do wise to remember who it was who brought you here. The wolf exhibit was a lovely place to hide. I could hear every word, every report."
"You mean you dressed up in cheap clothing just to get the drop on me?"
"And Mr. Kuryakin's mummy. You should have seen his face, Mr. Solo. He was truly terrified. A few drops of an hallucinogenic in your coffees and it was child's play."
Napoleon chanced a fast glance at Illya. The man merely looked murderous now. "Well, now I know why the coffee was so bad.
"Your compatriots were even easier." Delany held up a beautifully carved necklace. "Now, I and the Crown Jewels of Slovinka will be taking our leave of you. Perhaps someday, a week, a month, maybe longer, they will find your dead, withed corpses and you, too, can become relics on display. Relics of what happens to UNCLE agents who dare to cross swords with THRUSH's finest.
"You'll be the cause of World War Three. We were entrusted with those jewels," Hillary snapped and Delany laughed
"What a way to be remembered, eh? The man who started the recreation of the world. Darwin will have nothing on me."
Laughing, the man spun and pulled the heavy vault door behind him. Luis started to work anxiously at his bonds. Hillary was busy scanning the ceiling and walls. Only Illya was sitting calmly.
"Okay, agents, who wants to tell me why Agent Kuryakin isn't panicking?"
"Um, because we have a limited air supply and the more we struggle, the faster we use it up?" Luis asked, calming down.
"Because he has already formulated a plan and will soon be sharing it with us?" Hillary added, hopeful.
"Or he's a smart Russian who is about to spill his guts before I do." Napoleon crawled to Illya's side and began to work at the knots. "Why don't you entertain us while I get these ropes off?"
"I had the opportunity to spend some time with the custodial staff and the head janitor told me that all the vaults are on a timer and open at eight a.m. daily. They once had a young man separate from his tour and get stuck in one of the vaults. They were very nearly too late. As a result, the timing mechanisms were installed. We merely need to sit quietly for another three hours and we will be able to walk out of here."
"In the meantime, Delany will have escaped with the crown jewels and Slovinka will be proclaiming war on us," Napoleon pointed out. "They have nuclear devices, you know."
Illya twisted his hands free of the ropes and rubbed his wrists, then started on Napoleon's bonds. "I do know that. I also know that very few people will pay much attention to pot metal and paste jewels."
"You swapped out the real Crown Jewels?" Hillary's voice was quiet. "That's brilliant."
Illya inclined his head towards her. Once they were free of their prison, he would turn over the original pieces, carefully secreted away in a Bastet Sarcophagus and the various senet boards. The museum heads would not be happy that Illya had stolen the key from the head janitor and messed about in the displays, but he would remind them that sales at the museum's gift shop would have significantly diminished after a nuclear war had started.
Что ни делается, все к лучшему. - Whatever is done, is done for the best, Illya thought of an old Russian proverb and smiled. The world was safe thanks to a cat and a board game. Whoever said the time you spent at a museum was wasteful?