A Batty Affair

It was a dark and stormy night. Napoleon groaned as the trite description flitted through his head, even if it was apt. The warehouse district was basically deserted at this hour on a Saturday night but he kept alert as he approached the target building, knowing that Illya, circling around from the other direction, was doing the same. He reached the back entrance just as Illya rounded the corner.

When his partner arrived, Napoleon asked softy, "All clear?"

"No-one in sight, but there was an odd motorcycle hidden behind the dumpster," the Russian replied. "Not the transportation I'd expect a high ranking THRUSH to be using."

Napoleon thought for a moment. Their information had been somewhat vague - just word that "the big bird" would be meeting his confederates at this warehouse tonight.

"The assignment is to observe - see what they are planning," he said. "That may just be one of the guards. We should be able to avoid him, and if we're early we can be hidden in place when the boss arrives."

Illya nodded in agreement, but added with his usual pessimism, "Or the others could have all parked further away just as we did, and already be in there." Bending down to pick the lock on the door, he missed Napoleon shaking his head in amusement, and a moment later they were in the building.

Perhaps the Russian's suggestion was correct, for just ahead there were lights and noise. Whoever was there was not attempting to be quiet. An odd, squawky voice seemed to be calling out orders and there was the sound of a lot of movement. Creeping quietly up behind some barrels, the two UNCLE agents carefully peeked out to see what was happening. They both stared for a long moment, then eased back behind the barrels, wearing identical expressions of bemusement.

"Who - or what - the heck is that?" Napoleon whispered.

"I don't believe that is a THRUSH officer, although he said something about 'spreading the poison'", Illya replied. "Did you see the odd way he dressed and moved? It was almost like a - a penguin." He shook his head in disbelief and was about to speak again when a loud commotion came from the room.

"Now what?" Napoleon asked as they moved to look again.

The sight that met their eyes was no less fantastic than the first time, but now a fight was raging among the crates. Of the six workers who had been moving the boxes, two were tangled in a net that had been dropped over them. The other four were circling around a lone opponent, who was whirling, kicking and punching. The presumed leader - the odd penguin-like man - was hopping up and down, waving an umbrella and squawking angry orders to "get her" and "knock her out".

Without hesitation, the two UNCLE agents charged the fighting group, each engaging one of the attackers. Using the element of surprise they quickly dispatched the men and turned to see the woman taking out one of the remaining men with a judo flip into a wall. The other man fled on the heels of the boss.

Napoleon put a hand on the woman's shoulder but before he could speak he found himself flat on his back looking up at her. He shook his head slightly, thinking perhaps the fall had stunned him. Staring down at him was a slender woman dressed in a purple, figure-hugging suit with a short cape and, of all things, a bat-like mask over her head and upper face, leaving shoulder-length red hair showing.

"I, uh, come in peace?" Napoleon said gingerly, ignoring what sounded like a choked laugh from his partner.

The woman straightened from her defensive position and held out a hand to help him up.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding sorry at all. "You really shouldn't do that to someone in the middle of a fight. But thanks for your assistance in ending it."

"My mistake. You're really quite good. Perhaps you can tell us what was going on here? And who you are?" Napoleon smiled, turning on the charm.

"That was the Penguin and his cronies," she said. I'd hoped to catch him, but at least we prevented him from moving the toxic gas."

Napoleon was about to press her for her identity when her eyes widened and she gestured behind him. "Oh no! There they go!" He and Illya whipped about in time to see the two men who had been in the net making their getaway out the door. They turned back only to find that the mystery woman had vanished, and a moment later they heard the motorcycle start up and roar away.

"Well, my friend," Illya said. "This will make a very interesting report. Meanwhile, we'd better get some agents down here to handle the poison gas."

"Illya. You're not going to put down that I was flipped by that woman, are you?"

The Russian merely smiled.