Written By: Solo's Girl
Chapter 2
"They Are Not Alone."
Solo gave his hand a hard shake and looked at the bruised knuckles. The THRUSH's jaw was harder than he had expected. The agent laid the body in the straw pile and covered it with the blanket. He flipped the collar of the jacket up, held tight to the rifle and started towards the dungeon. Several other THRUSH guards passed him, but all they saw was the uniform and kept going.
"One moment," Greenbaum shouted.
Napoleon stopped in his tracks.
"Where are you going?"
"I received a signal that another UNCLE agent was spotted outside the wall. I was ordered to come at once," Napoleon said, "Sir."
"Very well. Go on," Greenbaum replied.
Solo snapped into a quick trot, the THRUSH weapon held tight in his hand. He was finally at the ground level when several other guards spotted him. Solo took a deep breath and with his most authoritative voice, told them of the "agent" outside. He quickly told each man what position to take and shook his head as they followed his orders.
He went down a narrow sloping passageway. It opened out into a long hallway. This Solo recognized immediately. He started down the hallway to the dungeon door. He took the touch from the bracket beside the door. Slowly he pushed the door open.
"Oh god," Napoleon said.
He ran in, shutting the door and bolting it behind him. Solo ran to his partner and examined the bloodied back. Illya jumped at his touch.
"Sorry Illya," Solo said, "Damn those bloody bastards." He cringed at the site of his partners back.
Working with the master-key he managed to get Kuryakin's feet free. After careful study he found the mechanism that lowered the manacles. He slowly let the Russian's body slide to the floor. Napoleon heard his friend moan in agony as his body folded on the floor. He ran over and removed the iron cuffs from Illya's hands.
Napoleon lifted his partner up and held him. He gave the Russian's face a gentle tap.
"Illya….Illya can you hear me?"
Two blue eyes fluttered open and looked up at the American. He mumbled something in Russian and Solo smiled.
"Hey I got here as quick as I could," Solo said. A strong wash of guilt overtook him.
He gave the blond hair a tussle and tried to pool his thoughts. He had to get Illya someplace safe and go on with the mission alone. How much more would Raven help him? Would she help him? First things first.
Napoleon took the end of Illya's tie and began to roll it up towards his face. He took the balled up tie and put it in his partner's mouth.
"Bite down on this," Solo said.
Illya was weak but bit down on the cloth. He moaned in pain as Napoleon stood him up and draped him over his shoulders. One arm firmly around Illya's legs the other clutching his arm, Solo carried him out of the dungeon and down the dark hallway. He found an unused room and put the injured agent inside on a small sofa styled lounge. He found a few blankets and once he was sure that the cuts on the blonds back were no longer bleeding he started towards the door.
"Nap…Napoleon.." Illya said weakly.
Solo returned to his partner.
"Illya don't talk," he said, "You need to rest.."
"Machines….some kind of machines to…." Kuryakin passed out.
Solo closed his eyes and said a prayer for his friend. He stood back up and went out the door, locking it behind him. He shifted the rifle on his shoulder once more and took off.
Illya drifted in and out of consciousness. He was awakened by the sounds of rustling fabric. A gentle hand began to stoke the back of his head. He stated to speak but was shushed. He relaxed at the tenderness of the hand on his hair and drifted back to sleep.
He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep. His eyes fluttered open. The Russian yawned and shifted on the small lounge. He realized the pain in his back wasn't as bad now. He could actually feel something warm pressed to the bare flesh. Illya stated to look back over his shoulder when the soft hand once more pressed to his head. He sighed at the relief from the pain and dozed off once more.
Carter opened the door to the dungeon. Fury overtook him and despite his best effort, found it near impossible to slam the seventeenth century door. He shouted for the guards.
"What happened to Kuryakin?" he shouted, his voice rolling thru the hallway like thunder.
Napoleon stopped on the steps. He heard the voice and knew it would only be a matter of time before they found his partner. His sharp ears picked up the sounds of the guards running thru the hallway pounding on doors, trying to open various rooms. Then, the blood froze in his veins as he heard something else.
Terrified cries, the sounds of THRUSH rifles being dropped to the floor, boots pounding the stone floors and what sounded like….a lion's roar. Over this din he could hear Carter shouting at his men, calling the cowards back to their post. Several of the guards shot past Napoleon without so much as a glance.
"What is going on down there?" Greenbaum shouted from the upper level.
Napoleon was trapped between the two THRUSH officers. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and was pulled back into one of the many hidden passages. The stone wall closed. He pressed an ear to the wall and listened.
"What the hell is going on?" Greenbaum shouted.
Carter stopped in front of him on the steps where only moments before, Solo had stood.
"I'm not sure," Carter replied, "The idiots were doing a search of some of the lower chambers. They must have set off so sort of special effects mechanism. There was a bright flash of light and some loud growling sound. They ran like scared rabbits. I'll have them all shot if it happens again."
"Did they find anything?"
"That's the problem," Carter said, "They didn't. They were searching for Kuryakin. He got out somehow."
"You IDIOT!" Greenbaum shouted, "Have you checked to see if Solo is still in the tower?"
Both THRUSH officers turned and headed back up the steps towards the tower.
Napoleon made a sigh of relief. He looked behind him to thank is rescuer, but no-one was there. His hand reached into the pocket of the uniform and found a pack of matches. Striking one he found himself alone in the passageway. Napoleon felt a chill run down his spine.
Slowly the agent made his way through the dark corridor. He had gone about fifty yards when he found a small wooden hook protruding from the wall. Solo couldn't help but smile. He shrugged his shoulders and took hold of it.
"If it works at headquarters…."he said an amused tone in his voice. He turned the hook.
There was a soft grinding of stone-on-stone. Solo watched for the wall to open. But to his dismay the wall did not begin to open. The floor did. He tried to keep his footing as the gap below him widened. He glanced down into the pit. No sloping walkway to slide down on, No hidden staircase, just a straight drop to the bottom. The agent clung to the hook with everything he had in him.
It took some maneuvering, but Solo managed to hold on and turn the hook back to its original position. He made a sigh of relief as the floor began to slide back into place. Once it was secured again, he released the hook and started on his way once more.
Napoleon made his way cautiously through the passageway. His eyes spotted a light moving ahead of him a few yards. He quickly but silently tried to catch up with it. Solo came around a corner and found a single candle sitting on the stone floor but no-one was around. He knelt down to look at it, when he saw a faint light coming thru the cracks at the base if the wall. The way out.
He blew out the candle and pressed his hands gently against the wall. It moved slowly open.
Solo found himself in a storage room of some sort. Crate after crate bearing the hideous THRUSH bird were stacked everywhere. Some open, most however still closed up tight. He looked to see if any of them said what was in them. Nothing. He moved through the room searching as he went. He came around the end of a line of crates.
A small console of some sort was being set up at the far end of the room. He walked over and looked at the blueprint. Another folder was lying on the console top. Solo reached over and flipped it open. He read the specs, worked the equations out in his own head to verify the plausibility and came to the same conclusions as the THRUSH scientist had. But his big question was why?
Greenbaum and Carter along with a group of guards came to the top of the tower. No-one on duty. They pressed the door open. A bone chilling rush of cold air blew over them. Carter motioned for the guards to go in and check for Solo.
Two of the men held their guns at the ready as they approached the straw pile. They poked at the blanket covering a figure beneath. One of the men gave the body a push with his foot.
"I think he froze to death, sir," the guard said.
Carter walked in and over to the men. He knelt down next to the body under the blanket and gave it a hard shove.
"Up Solo!" he shouted.
Cater grabbed the blanket and pulled it back. The Guards started back towards the door. Carter gasped in terror at the sight, falling back on the floor. Greenbaum stood, unable to move, pressed against the door.
The body beneath the blanket was badly decayed. It was as if he had been dead for a year or two. His THRUSH tags still hanging around his neck. The corners of his id card protruded through the thin flesh around his throat. Even in the grips of death, the body had a pose and expression of sheer terror to its continence.
Cater backed out of the room on his hands as quickly as he could, unable to find his legs until he was out of the tower room. He looked at Greenbaum. The guards looked at one another. They were ready to drop this entire assignment.
"What the hell is going on around here?" Greenbaum finally managed to say.
He looked at Carter and pointed a shaky finger at him. Carter stood up. He looked at the faces staring in his direction.
"What?" he said slowly.
The THRUSH walked over to the stained glass window and looked at his reflection. His once dark brown hair was now streaked grey at the temples and the front. He ran his fingers over his hair.
"You still think this place was such a good idea?" Greenbaum asked.
Napoleon shoved the folders inside the uniform jacket and slowly opened the door. After making sure the corridor was clear he started out staying close to the wall. The sounds of approaching feet in the hallway made Solo look for another means of escape. He tried several of the doors in the hallway only to find them locked. The sound of a lock clicking sent him into an attack position holding the rifle at the ready.
Raven looked cautiously into the hallway. She smiled at him and motioned the agent into the room.
"Any port in a storm," Solo said as he went quickly into the room.
"Did you find your partner?" she asked.
"What was left of him, yes," Solo said. His expression changed to one of guilt.
The woman stepped up behind him and put her hands on his shoulders.
"What's wrong?
"I was just thinking of what he went through," Napoleon said, "While I was pandering to my own lust. He is the best partner I have ever had. I should have…."
He felt the woman press the side of her face between his broad shoulders.
"You UNCLE agents really live by that code, don't you?"
Solo turned and looked at her.
"Yes we do," he said, "We are trained to protect each other while doing our jobs. An agent is expected to lay down his life for UNCLE and his partner. Unlike THRUSH, we can't simply dismiss an injured comrade in arms as no big deal."
Solo heard a soft sob. He looked at her as she turned away. He put a hand on her shoulder and felt her tremble. She tried to pull her emotions back in check.
"When I saw your file photo," she said, "I thought all that was there was a handsome face. You really have something special about you, Mr. Solo. Something that I'm not use to dealing with."
"It's called decency," Napoleon said, not being sarcastic, but brutally honest, "You have your moments as well, you know. THRUSH doesn't own you completely."
She turned and looked at him, tears still sitting in her eyes. She smiled and gently kissed his cheek.
"By the way," Solo said, "I forgot to thank you for pulling me into the passageway."
"I didn't pull you into any passageway!"
"Of course you did….Didn't you?"
"No I didn't"
"Then who did?"
The woman looked at him. Solo felt a chill.
Illya opened his eyes once more. He had heard the noise in the hallway but had been to out of it to care what it was. The room was warm and he realized that a fire was going in the large fireplace. He pushed his shirtsleeve back and carefully looked at his watch. They had been there nearly nine hours now. He wondered where Napoleon was and more importantly if he was safe.
The Russian felt a slight twinge in his back as he sat up. All things considered he felt fairly well. Stiff and a bit sore but the intense pain had somehow subsided. He reached up his hands and pressed them to his face to try and wipe away the sleepy feeling. One hand rubbed the back of his neck and he looked down at his clothes. He had just bought that suit.
Kuryakin looked towards the full length mirror across from him, He looked at his reflection then down at his clothes. His trousers were still intact but he somehow was dressed in a beautiful silk shirt. The soft white shirt had large flowing sleeves. A long cord looped through several neatly sewn holes and held the front of the shirt closed. The ends of the cords hung lose instead of being tied, the sigh of a scamp. His hands moved over the cloth.
He stood up and walked towards the mirror. It had to be Napoleon. He brought him in the room, removed his torn clothes and this was the only thing he could find to put on him. Illya looked in the mirror. He saw someone else's reflection in the distance behind him. He spun around.
Nothing. He was the only one in the room. He turned back to the mirror. He was the only one in it. He shook his head.
"Must be an effect from the loss of blood," he said low to himself.
Something flashed quickly in the fire-light. Illya's reflexes were still a bit slow, not too much. He looked back towards the small lounge. Illya pushed his blond hair back from his forehead and walked back to the small sofa.
Leaning against the head end was a beautiful bejeweled sword. He picked it up. Perfect balance, the workmanship was exquisite. Having been relieved of his UNCLE implements, the Russian took the sword and started towards the door. If he had learned anything from his friends the Gypsies, it was never question the acts of a greater power.
"So, are you going to tell me what is going on?" Solo said, "Or….."
There was a pounding on the door. Raven motioned for Solo to hide. Once he was out of sight she opened the door. Carter and Greenbaum stood panting for breath. She looked startled at Carter's hair.
"We have to get everything in place by tonight," Greenbaum said, "I want to get this operation underway and then get the hell out of here."
"Get your birds ready," Carter said, "We will have their part of the operation ready in an hour."
She nodded at the men. They turned and started to walk away. Greenbaum walked back to her. He looked at the woman. Solo quickly moved back into his hiding place.
"You haven't seen either of the UNCLE agents have you?" he asked softly brushing one finger against her cheek.
"Solo is in the tower isn't he?" she said, "And one of the guards said the other was in the dungeon.."
"That's right, they were in those areas," the THRUSH said, "But the Russian has disappeared and Solo…"
The woman's eyes widened.
"He's dead?" she asked.
Greenbaum looked at her. He turned and started to walk away. She saw him stop, his back still turned towards her.
"You do know what the penalty for betraying THRUSH is, don't you my dear?" he asked.
She felt a chill run down her spine.
"Yes."
"Good….Just making sure what side you were really on."
She quickly changed into her THRUSH uniform. Solo sat on the edge of the bed and watched her as she pulled her hair back and positioned her officer's cap. He smiled sheepishly as she placed her gun in the belt holster. There is just something about a woman who is heavily armed he thought.
Napoleon walked over to the door and opened it enough to peak out. He felt Raven step up behind him as he closed it once more. He smiled and looked at her. She reached up taking his face with her hands and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Solo took a deep breath and looked at her.
"Whatever happens," she said, "Stay out of the mist."
Solo looked down at her. He realized too late that her gun was missing from the holster. He felt a sharp hard thud on the back of his head. She stepped over him and caught the attention of two guards in hallway.
Illya was making his way cautiously through the empty hall. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. There should be guards on duty. There should be motion of some sort. But he was the only one there. A low moan caught his attention.
He stepped back and saw two guards, Napoleon in tow, making their way up the hallway. No-one else was around. The Russian clutched the sword tightly in both hands.
Doing his best Errol Flynn he leapt out in front of the guards. Thru his pain, Napoleon smiled. One of the guards let Solo go and grabbed his rifle. With one swing, Illya cut the gun in half. The sword was unusually easy to use, not as light as fencing foil, but still very maneuverable. He swung it once more and caught the guards arm taking a long slice from his uniform sleeve. The second guard relinquished his grip on Solo and went to help his partner.
Napoleon saw Illya skillfully swing the massive sword, thrust, parry, thrust. He watched as one of the men made the mistake of trying to get the sword away from the Russian. Illya stepped back, made a spin in the man's direction the sword flashed in the low light of the hallway. The THRUSH cried out in agony and clutched his arm. Napoleon saw the guards bloodied hand laying on the stone floor of the hall..
Solo grabbed the gun from the injured guard. By now the noise had attracted many more THRUSH to the scene. Napoleon opened fire, taking out as many as he could. He grabbed the other gun and continued to fire. They just kept coming. He had to duck a few times to avoid Illya's aim.
THRUSH after THRUSH fell to the floor, either by shot or parry. The Two U.N.C.L.E. agents held their ground. A guard managed to get hold of Solo pinning his arms behind him. Illya made a forceful thrust with the sword.
Kuryakin heard an agonizing cry of pain. The sword fell from his hand as he saw Napoleon shoved towards him. The Russian caught his partner. Solo slipped down in the blond's arms, down to his knees.
"Napoleon?"
Illya knelt down holding his partner. He looked down at his clothes. The brilliant white shirt was stained red. Napoleon's mouth dropped open as he fought to catch his breath. He looked up at his partner.
Once more Kuryakin looked down at the figure in his arms. A dark crimson color had begun to cover his partner's shirt and trousers. He saw the torn shirt cloth just above Solo's belt. Napoleon's eyes blinked and he said something low to his partner.
Illya lifted his bloodied hand to the side of Napoleon's face and pressed it close to his chest.
"Napoleon, I sorry," he whispered, "Oh god I am so sorry."
Solo reached up and touched his hand.
"Stay…stay out….of..mist…." Napoleon said slowly.
Solo's hand fell limp beside him.
For the first time in his career, Illya wept for a fellow agent.