There are just some days when being an international enforcement agent doesn't quite measure up to the others. Sure, there are the nights of wining and dining beautiful women, seducing their secrets from them, the last minute escapes, the derring-do… and then there are the moments like this.
My newest suit, fresh from the tailor, hand stitched, with incredible attention to detail, and it was definitely showed signs of my capture, thanks to a less-than gentle THRUSH agent. A couple of the seams had been popped and one of the jacket pockets was torn. I was never going to hear the end of it from Waverly, but this thing set me back nearly $600, a small fortune, and I wasn't going to just let it go unrepaired.
Of course, if something didn't happen and happen soon, I wouldn't be hearing much of anything from anyone except possibly my eulogy. I was out of weapons, excuses, and time. When the THRUSH agents came back, they were going to rip my secrets from me one way or the other. Needless to say, I wasn't eagerly anticipating their return.
I was still pinning all my hopes on my partner. Things hadn't been good between us for awhile. He'd never really forgiven me for ensnaring him into Doc Wallach's examination and he didn't trust me. Anyone can tell you that trust is the most important thing between partner and I simply didn't have Illya's at the moment. Perhaps I should rephrase that, I had his professional trust. He knew he could count on me to watch his back and I on him, but that easy camaraderie we had was gone.
I'd also watched him being dragged from a pile of rubble, looking more dead than alive, when an explosive misfired and brought a wall down a minute early. Hell, he could be dead for all I knew, but that didn't feel right in my gut. I just knew he wasn't past tense… at least not yet.
The assignment had been simple enough. We were sent in to acquire a pair of THRUSH agents keen on defecting to America and UNCLE. The Russian, Yuri Yenkin, was an enforcement agent like Illya and me. He would be a prize, but it was the Czech that Waverly had his eye on. Vaclav Skounic was a higher up, equivalent to Mr. Waverly in some ways. He was willing to spill his guts and turn over closely guarded secrets in exchange for amnesty and UNCLE was willing to listen.
Locate and retrieve – it had seemed so easy on paper, but I should have realized that nothing was easy these days - not since Illya and I weren't on the same foot any more. We'd gotten in, found our targets and were on our way out when Illya smelled a rat. Granted, it was a beautiful and very mouth-watering redhead, but she was a rat all the same. By the time we'd realized it, though, it was too late.
I heard a cacophony of noise from down the hall. Screaming, a growling of some sort, something slick and wet sounding - I couldn't put my finger on it nor did I really want to for that matter. All I knew was that our packages were being very effectively dealt with in inevitable THRUSH fashion. I didn't want to even dwell upon what awaited me.
A rattle drew my attention and I moved, pressing back against the wall just to the side of the door. I'd already tried jumping the guard once and got a boot to the kidneys for my efforts, but perhaps they wouldn't expect me to try again.
The door creaked open and I froze, almost afraid to breath. The uniformed agent moved cautiously into the room and I was just ready to pounce when I recognize the hair and cut of the shoulders.
"Napoleon?" Illya hissed quietly scanning the room.
"Here," I said and he spun. He was a sight for sore eyes, battered, bruised, one arm in a makeshift splint, but I'd never seen anything so wonderful. I didn't know how he'd gotten here and I didn't much care.
"Why are you hiding?"
"I thought you were THRUSH," I said and watched his eyes narrow.
"For the moment, I am." He aimed a gun at my midsection and ordered. "Move."
We walked into the hallway and I watched Illya try to hide his injuries from causal observation. "Where are they keeping Yenkin and Skounic?" he whispered, mindful of the cameras that lined the corridors here.
"I've heard some pretty unsettling things coming from that direction." I pointed. "I suspect that's where the party is."
We surprised the guard at the door and I took him out. Illya was barely able to standby now and he pressed a retrieved gun into my hand.
"If it is not too late, you take them and get clear. I heard the doctors talking; they thought I was dead. Skounic swallowed several microfilm capsules. Unless they've reached down his throat and ripped them out, we need to get him safely to our side. "
"I'm not leaving you here."
"I have no intention of staying, but I'll be of more use here. After all, to them, I'm already dead." He leaned against the wall and I wondered just how far from the truth that statement was. "You ready?"
We crept into the room, shooting anything that moved. This, unfortunately, included two of the biggest lions I'd ever seen. The lioness looked up from the arm she was chewing on and went for Illya. He wouldn't have had a chance and I felt only the briefest pang of regret as I put a bullet between her eyes. The lion charged and I dropped him as well. The room was a mess of body parts, blood and gore. Obviously, THRUSH had taken a page out of history and, much as the Romans had sent the Christians off, THRUSH had sent their deserters to the lions
I heard an odd shuffle and glanced over my shoulder at my partner. He was holding a scraped and bruised hand to his head and panting. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a minute. He started to sway and I caught his shoulder. "You okay, partner?" My hand was shaking from left over adrenaline. It had been very close. A second more and that lion would have taken Illya down…
"Far from it, but better than I would have been if you'd not shot. Thank you." He reopened his eyes and studied me for a moment. I knew then that we'd turned the corner. The trust was back and I took a deep, thankful breath and then ruined the moment by gagging at the smell of blood. This never happens in the movies.
"Are the animals both dead?" Illya asked, his eyes still on me.
"Yes, why?"
Illya held out a jack knife with a trembling left hand. "They eat the organs and the soft tissue first. We need Skounic's stomach contents. The microfilm capsules will be in there."
"You're not seriously suggesting…" I looked over to where the two animals were stretched out amid the remains of body parts.
"Unless you have another idea, I'm afraid so. I'm in no shape, not with a broken arm and I need to go set some charges before we call for reinforcements. I'm going to take this place down to the bedrock."
****
In all of the less-than-pleasant things I have done in my life, cutting into an animal with a Swiss Army knife rates as the first or second. By the time I'd gotten to the lioness's stomach, my brand new suit was smeared with blood and gore. It was beyond rescue now.
I cut open her stomach and nearly lost mine at the stench that enveloped me. Some of the organs had been swallowed whole, but there was nothing that even vaguely resembled what I was looking for. Still, I took each one out and cut into it, just to be sure. I coughed and gagged while my fingers felt for anything capsule like.
I glanced up as Illya hobbled back into the room and grimaced at me. Needless to say, I was not the most pleasant thing to be looking at and I suspected it would take a month to get the stench out of my nose or from my body. Napoleon Solo, dashing spy about town, was more like a tower mass of filth. If only the ladies at Tavern on the Green or Delmonico's could see me now…
"Anything?" Illya braced himself against the wall.
"Not in her." I looked over at the lion and closed my eyes against the task that awaited me.
"You know what this means?" Illya had his communicator out, ready to call for reinforcements.
"I'm afraid so." My suit was completely and totally destroyed now, a bit more blood wasn't going to hurt it.
"Yes." Illya nodded to the lion, a slight smile playing on his lips, the first honest one I'd seen in a very long time. "Obviously, the Czech is in the male."