"Ring around the rosie, pockets full of posies, ashes, ashes we all fall down."

A voice echoed in the darkness as Napoleon Solo woke. His head was pounding, and as he felt along the close walls, they were rough like stone, cold and damp to the touch. he was in some sort of cave.

Napoleon hadn't heard that rhyme since he was a little boy, and suddenly he had the image of a bouquet of nosegays fill his head, that and the thought of the songs association with the black death. His worries over his partner suddenly ratcheted up a notch.

"Illya?" He whispered, there was no answer, no breathing in the darkness as Solo groped around with his hands to see if the Russian was lying unconscious. No luck there...

He heard the voice echoing again..."Ring around the rosie, pockets full of posies, ashes, ashes we all fall down."

Napoleon stood slowly, reaching out with his arms to make sure there was standing room. Once he found it safe, he began to feel his way, he followed the voice as it continued to sing the rhyme.

The last thing he remembered was standing at the door to Professor Moriarity's house. Illya made a remark about hoping the man was not like his notorious namesake, the nemesis of the literary figure, Sherlock Holmes. Just as his partner rang the doorbell, the floor on the porch opened up beneath them, and down they went to some sort of tunnel.

"Ring around the rosie, pockets full of posies, ashes, ashes we all fall down." The echoing voice became louder.

He squinted as his eyes adjusted to a bright light that appeared at the end of the tunnel he was travelling. It opened to a larger cave, and there in the middle of it he saw the unmoving body of his partner dangling from a rope...it reminded him of the Alexander the Greater Affair except there was no innocent visible, and he wasn't trapped under a swinging pendulum...so maybe it wasn't exactly like that after all.

The voice repeated the rhyme but Solo couldn't find it's source. Was it real or simply a recording?

"Who are you?" He called out.

"Your worst nightmare,"

Solo had no recognition of the voice, yet he automatically reached for his weapon, not thinking it was gone.

"Haahahaahahaaa," a laugh bellowed. "Do you think I'd be that stupid to leave you armed." It was clear now, the voice had a Slavic accent.

"Hey it was worth a try. So what is it you want of me?" He spotted a single camera lens, and began to move slowly out of its range.

"To see you suffer of course. You're going to watch your Russian friend die. "

"Take me instead, let him go free. Your beef is with me..." he ventured that as a guess.

"No, Mr. Solo. There is no negotiation, no maneuvering on this. Mr. Kuryakin will die and you'll watch and know it's your fault. I'll let you live, and that'll hang heavy on your heart for as long as your miserable life lasts."

"There's nothing I can do to convince you otherwise?" Napoleon walked carefully around the cave, finding a wire leading from a small speaker. He followed it along while the voice droned on, recounting the loss of of a man and woman that brought her to revenge.

The wire led up to a hidden alcove, and there he saw the person speaking into a microphone, it was a young girl. He couldn't believe it at first as the speaker made her sound older.

She turned, catching his presence out of the corner of her eye, and she reached to press a large red button on her console, most likely to send Illya to his death.

Napoleon dove, grabbing the girl and tackling to her to the floor. She screamed, kicking her heels as he ripped one of the wires from the console and tied her hands and feet with it.

"Let me go you, you...murderering animal!" She screeched at him

Napoleon took hold of her chin, forcing her to be quiet and look directly at him. She couldn't have been any more than fourteen years old.

"Who are you, and why are you doing this?"

"My name is Ivanna Kurasov and you caused the death of my father! I want you to suffer!"

"Your father is...was Laslo Kurasov?*

"Yes! They killed him! You sent him to his death because of the con job you and your partner pulled. He was made to look the fool! My mother committed suicide after he died. Now I want you to pay for both their deaths! You should should suffer as I have suffered."

Napoleon frowned, thinking such a young life to be so full of anger and bitterness. "Not today, not tomorrow or ever, sweetheart, " he replied. " Your father was an evil man and brought his death on himself. Your mother made her own decision, and no one forced her to kill herself. The sooner you realize that, the sooner you'll get on with your life. If you play it right, you'll have a long one ahead of you. Take the right path and make up for the wrongful deeds of your father."

"Never!" She spat at him.

He shook his head. "So young to be that bitter..." Solo left her there, heading to his partner and carefully lowering him to safety. This was the ugly side to their business, when an innocent child could be drawn into a world of revenge and deceit. Who knows what her parents taught her to believe. Napoleon only hoped it wasn't too late to straighten her out, but that would be up to UNCLE Medical to help guide her to see the truth.

"Wake up tovarisch, you've missed the party." He gave Illya a gentle tap on the face.

"Mmmmm," Illya moaned. "Whaaa happened?" He finally opened his eyes,

"You're not going to believe it, " Napoleon said, undoing the man's bindings and helping him to his feet. "Something...well someone has come to haunt us, but not the way you'd expect. Does the name Kurasov ring a bell, tovarisch?"

Illya's eyes went wide at that name, thinking of their involvement with his fellow countrymen a few years earlier. "I heard he was dead."

"Ah yes, but his memory lingers on in a way you would never have guessed," Napoleon sadly nodded. "Come on buddy, I need to introduce you to someone..."

.

* "The Project Strigas Affair"