It all began with strange lights being spotted in the skies over Central Park; numbering from one to two seeming to fly in formation, moving across the sky and suddenly banking in opposite directions, disappearing at inexplicable speeds.
NORAD was at a loss to track them as were other branches of the U.S. defense system. Even airports using traditional radar were thrown off by these mysterious unidentified flying objects. Speculation, theories and rumors ran rampant
At first there was a panic, with some people thinking it was a pre-invasion tactic by the Soviets. Children were sent beneath their desks in duck and cover drills, and everyone was simply on edge.
There was hesitation bringing up the idea of these things being visitors from outer space, though there was talk of a secret installation called Groom Lake that was studying what was determined to be possible visitors to the planet. A government concern called "Project Blue Book" was doing just that, logging all the unexplained aerial phenomena as well as quietly investigating them.
The general public was unaware of this base, though rumors were beginning to spread. The curious called it Area 51, a remote detachment of Edwards Air Force Base, located 100 miles outside of Las Vegas in the southern portion of Nevada's high desert.
The myths of Area 51 were hard to dispute, since no one would speak on record about what was actually happening there. Even UNCLE with its top security clearance from its member nation of the United States was out in the dark on this one.
Being in the midst of the Cold War; the U.S. government preferred anonymity while pursuing some of the country's most covert projects. Conspiracy theories were left to popular imagination.
Illya Kuryakin dismissed the theory of UFOs or the possibility of these lights being a precursor of invasion by his homeland. The Soviet Union simply did not have such advanced technology. The only thing they had to do with outer space was the pioneering accomplishments in space flight that began with Sputnik-1. The program had its success and failures, but lacked the technical sophistication to match the aerial maneuverability of these night lights. The U.S. had nothing capable of that as well.
Alexander Waverly wanted these lights investigated, and that as they say was that.
Napoleon and Illya were assigned to the case, and found them setting up a stake out in Central Park. At least that was Napoleon's best guess as to what to do. They were armed with high speed tracking devices as well as state of the art photography and listening equipment, the best that R&D had.
Illya set up a listening station with a small parabolic dish that was able to pick up sound waves above the normal range of human hearing. If these things had any sort of propulsion system, he'd be able to pick them up. There was also a reel-to-reel tape recorder to capture those sounds if any.
He had no theory and being ever the pragmatist, he would wait until corroborative data could be gathered before he made any further judgements. Napoleon remained silent on the subject, as he was more of a 'seeing is believing' sort of guy.
And so they waited, in the tree line out at Sheep Meadow, the location only open from April to mid-October, dawn to dusk in fair weather. With that part of the park closed, the agents were sure not to be interrupted in their nocturnal surveillance.
Everything was ready and hours passed, but there were no sightings at all, and just before dawn they packed up, returning to headquarters with nothing to report.
'This was really an assignment for the scientific sections don't you think?" Napoleon yawned.
Illya followed suit, yawning as well. "I suppose that is why I was assigned to it, seeing as how I am enforcement and part of R&D and you being my partner, well..."
"Gee thanks. Feel like breakfast?"
"No, thank you. I will grab a bagel on the way home, as my bed is calling to me more than my stomach," Illya barely smiled.
"Wow that's a change, but I hear you partner."
Both were very aware they'd be repeating their nightly routine until these strange lights showed up again, if at all, as there was no set pattern to their appearance. The UNCLE agents wondered if they'd be bumping into people from NASA, the CIA, FBI, and of course Project Blue Book... a regular smorgasbord of American organizations. There was the possibility of Sheep Meadow becoming very crowded...
.
It was on their fourth night when the lights showed up, the satellite dish picked up a strange whirring sound first, and moments later two glowing red lights appeared in the sky.
They stopped moving, hovering in place and began to pulsate from red to green, starting slowly at first, then picking up speed. They suddenly separated, heading off at blinding speed in the different directions, and disappearing into the cloud cover.
"Well I'll be," Napoleon muttered.
"Precisely," Illya answered, equally as surprised. "Please tell me you got photographs?"
"Hey, that's what I was here for," he held up the camera."Let's get back to headquarters and get these developed asap."
"I am eager to hear the audio tapes as well."
The partners packed up their equipment and headed out, bringing their findings to Research and Development who were more than eager to get their hands on the evidence. They analyzed the photos, but were unable to enlarge them to a decent size to see any details, but the audio tapes were the treasure.
The recording was enhanced and the sound was definitely of an engine of sorts, masked by a modulating drone, yet is still was unclear as to what sort of engine it was that could propel a craft at such surprisings speeds. Kuryakin ran more tests on this own and came up with some interesting findings.
Illya and Napoleon presented their evidence to Alexander Waverly, still in his conference room at three in the morning.
"Yes we have these findings, gentlemen, but what do you make of them?" He asked, puffing away on his pipe as he looked at the photographs. The audio tape drew his attention more so.
"Oh there's definitely engines sir,"Illya said, but the high pitched modulations seem to mask that fact to anyone hearing it live."
"So you think this is a man-made device?" Waverly lowered his pipe to the crystal ashtray on the table.
"Most likely,"Illya said."I did some frequency tests, and the underlying sound does match that of a standard helicopter motor."
"Interesting," Waverly said. "Now, as to what purpose these so-called night lights are flying over the park? Theories gentlemen?"
The agents gave him blank stares, having no clue as what it was all about.
"Mr. Solo, you and Mr. Kuryakin will continue your surveillance. Perhaps using a high-speed camera to film the lights in motion this time, and set up one of our vans with a high-powered spotlight. That perhaps might illuminate the situation and give us some clear answers."
"Yes sir,"Napoleon nodded. He left the office, followed by his partner, heading for the commissary to see if there was anything left to eat, but a sandwich and a cup of coffee was the best he could hope for.
"I think I will pass, and head home," Illya said. "Good night."
"Night partner, sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite."
"Napoleon, I do not have bedbugs in my mattress. How could you think such a thing?" Illya cocked his head in dismay.
"I didn't mean it literally, it's just a saying that means you should sleep well."
"Why did you not just say that?" The Russian stared at him.
"I don't know, I guess next time I'll be more direct."
"Thank you, that would make our communications easier," Illya nodded, and headed down the grey corridor.
The next evening they returned to their stake out, this time with a black UNCLE surveillance van.
The recorder was running, with the satellite dish mounted on the roof of the van along with the spotlight; Illya sat in the back wearing headphones, listening carefully. Napoleon sat in the drivers seat of the van, searching with a pair of high-powered binoculars, while holding onto the movie camera to catch the lights as they moved.
Suddenly the sky lit up with billowing clouds above the city skyline, illuminated by an oncoming thunderstorm.
"Storm's coming tovarisch," Napoleon called to his partner still in the back of the van.
"I need to check the wind direction and adjust the dish," Illya answered, removing his headphones and pulling open the side door.
"Do it fast, it's not safe to be up on that roof with this lightning."
"Yes Mama," Ilya snickered, but jumped as a monstrous bolt of lightning streaked across the sky. "Hmm, this may be a bust with such a storm."
He climbed up on the roof of the van, checking the wind the old-fashioned way, sticking his finger in his mouth and holding it up in the air to determine the direction, and quickly fussing with the dish.
Illya looked up to the sky, spotting one of the lights hovering directly above him. It began pulsating quickly in color from red to green.
"Napoleon, company has arrived!" He called loudly, but the thunder muffled his voice.
The mysterious craft had an elongated, sort of saucer shape look to it, and as he stared upwards, studying it , a bright stream of white light suddenly streamed down, enveloping him.
"Illya? Did you just see that?" Solo called out to him. When there was no answer he stepped out of the van, calling out again.
"Illya!" His voice echoed in the emptiness of the meadow as thunder rumbled again.
There was no sign of him anywhere, and as Napoleon searched, the sky opened up in a deluge. He made a beeline back into the van, starting it up, turning on the headlights and wiper blades.
Pulling his communicator from his pocket; he tried contacting the Russian, but heard the chirp come from the back... Illya'd left his communicator pen lying near the recorder. Napoleon waited until the rain stopped, and began his search again. He knew something was definitely wrong, and called into headquarters for a backup team to help in the search.
Mark Slate, and Goran Kovač, a new agent, led the team. Goran, nicknamed Ranny, whose late parents were from the Bosnian region of Yugoslavia and was of the Muslim faith, the first in the Command. He was more American though, having been born in the Rockaways in Long Island. They brought with them a half-dozen Section III agents and continued searching well past sunrise, but without success.
"You know my grandmother used to tell stories from when she was a child, about strange lights in the sky hovering over her village back in Yugoslavia, and of people disappearing when they came round," Ranny said to Napoleon as they searched among the trees.
"Really, and don't tell me, these people were never heard from again," Solo replied sarcastically, thinking what he was hearing was just a bit of urban legend.
"No, they returned but were very traumatized and spoke of strange, grey-skinned people. Some of them were apparently examined by these creatures, and experimented upon."
"Oh please, little green...grey men, come on Ranny? This is New York City, and the twentieth century."
Ranny shook his head, disappointed the senior agent was dismissing what he had to say. "Then how can you account for Illya's disappearance?"
"Well I can't really, but I think he probably got himself lost in the rain, and is wandering the park somewhere, trying to find his way out...it's a big place."
"Your partner get lost guv?" Mark joined in the conversation,"Not a chance, now if it were you who disappeared I'd agree with the 'getting lost in the woods' scenario, but not Illya, mate."
Napoleon sighed his concern, not wanting to quit the search, but he had to return to headquarters as Waverly had ordered it.
Still dressed in his badly wrinkled suit, Solo along with Mark and Ranny went directly to the Old Man's conference room upon entering headquarters.
Napoleon reviewed what had happened, as a member of Research and Development rolled in a trolley with a movie projector on it, along with the reel-to-reel recorder from the van.
Window shutters were closed, and lights dimmed as the tech started the projector, and the tape as well, synchronizing the audio with the visual.
The view of the meadow with the lightning flashes was quite vivid, and several minutes into the audio, the strange whirring noise started. At this point Illya had exited and climbed onto the roof of the van. There was a bright flash of light, and the camera picked up in the reflection in the side view mirror, showing Illya being bathed in an intense white light. It was so bright the figure of the Russian disappeared, and when the light faded, Kuryakin was gone.
When the office lights were turned on, everyone stood there completely speechless.
Waverly broke the silence. "This is indeed perplexing. I'm afraid we have no recourse but to resume our surveillance in the park, hopefully Mr. Kuryakin will be returned if it was one of these so-called alien abductions. Hmmm, if it was that."
"Alien abduction sir? Do you really think that's possible?" Napoleon folded his hands quietly in front of him on the table, trying to maintain a calm demeanor, but inside he was troubled with concern for his partner. The thought of aliens seemed completely absurd to him.
"At this point Mr. Solo, I don't know what to believe. When you resume your operation in Sheep Meadow, you'll have an entire team to assist you, should these lights return. You are to be armed to the teeth on this one gentlemen, and don't hesitate to use your weapons if deemed necessary. We don't know what we're dealing with here... Stories of fiery lights in the sky and abductions have been documented throughout history, and now one of our own has gone missing. We are to assume at this point the two are connected and the situation is to be handled as if you are dealing with a hostile enemy. Am I clear on this?"
"Yes sir," the three agents nodded their agreement.
That night a near exhausted Solo, along with Mark Slate and Ranny Kovač, led a team of twenty agents back to Central Park.
It was around midnight when the lights appeared again, directly above the middle of open expanse of the meadow. As the agents zeroed in their carbines on the target, a glaring bright light shone down on the grass, and when it disappeared Illya was standing there.
The lights hovered a moment, and a took off at high-speed when Solo and the other began firing. The red glow flickered, and for a moment what looked like a helicopter appeared, a second later everything went black and the lights were simply gone, though the strange whirring sound could still be heard at a distance.
Solo took off, reaching Illya first, and stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the bruised face of his partner. His eyes were glassy, as he stared into nothingness.
"Hey buddy, you okay"Illya? Talk to me?" There was no reaction, or any sign of awareness. He just stood there, zombie like.
An UNCLE chopper arrived, medivacing Kuryakin to headquarters. After a complete examination in Medical, it was noted he had multiple puncture marks on his arms, and bruising...it was obvious every body cavity had been examined, probed and none too gently.
His blood tox indicated a substance, seemingly narcotic in origin and very much of this earth.
Hours later Illya's eyes became focused, more himself, and up to questioning. His voice was raspy as his throat and mouth were irritated. It seemed when the white light blinded him, he felt hands laid on him and a needle prick to his neck. When he awoke he was completely naked, strapped down to a cold metal table.
There were figures in hooded metallic coveralls surrounding him holding syringes and nasty looking medical instruments. When they stepped into the glow of an overhead light, he was shocked at first to see their long grey faces and overly large, slanted black eyes... completely dark with no irises.
He remembered screaming as they cut and injected him, but strangely as they hovered over him, he saw they were wearing latex gloves and had five-fingered hands. A cord of sorts fell down from under the hood of one of them and that's when he realized they were wearing masks. They inserted another probe, none too gently, and that was the last thing he remembered before he passed out.
"I think they were a fraud," Illya spoke, barely able to bring his voice above a whisper.
Medical insisted Kuryakin remain in Medical as he was too bruised and in pain from his ordeal, still he wanted to go with his partner who'd decided to return to the park to examine in daylight, the spot where his partner reappeared.
"Hey pal, we've got it under control. You take it easy for once." Napoleon was adamant Illya stayed put.
Solo, Slate and Kovač, returned to Sheep Meadow around noon, and searching the area, they found signs of a dark substance on the grass. Ranny reached down, impulsively touching it with his fingers.
"Don't do that, you don't know what it is," Solo snapped at him.
It was too late as Ranny rubbed it between his fingers and sniffed it. "Napoleon, this is motor oil."
He and Mark both agreed once they sniffed it as well. "I smell a rat," Napoleon said, "and don't say motor oil Mark."
"Took the words right out of my mouth mate," Mark grinned.
That night, the three agents and their squad waited again for the so-called visitors, but this time they brought rocket launchers, and when the red lights appeared, Napoleon and Mark carefully took aim.
The explosions lit up the night sky, as the rockets hit their targets. When the flames died down they discovered they were indeed helicopters, equipped with some sort of stealth mode that masked the sound of the engines. A cleanup team would take the wreckage to an UNCLE warehouse for further examination.
Inside one of the flying machines was a very familiar symbol of a bird. What THRUSH had been up to, there was no way to tell now, unless some stray intelligence was picked up over the airwaves.
Napoleon returned to headquarters, giving his report after which he headed up to Medical. He found his partner sleeping peacefully, and simply stood, staring at the dark bruises on the Russian's fair-skinned face. He shook his head at the lengths THRUSH would go to in order to lend authenticity to one of their bizarre schemes; trying to make Illya think he'd been abducted by space aliens.
Ranny walked into the room, his face looking rather cheerful. "You're not going to believe this,there were more lights sighted just outside Las Vegas," he whispered.
Napoleon guided him out into the hallway. "You know what my friend. I think we'll let the U.S military and Area 51 handle this one. I've had enough of flashing lights in the sky..."