"Don't hurt me! Take my money!" Wendell begged, backing away from the dangerous looking men with drawn guns .
"Don't you mean take Amy Solo's money?"
"What? Who are you guys?"
"Her nephew, Napoleon Solo and this is my associate."
"I thought she made you up! Who names their kid Napoleon?"
"Nevermind. Where are Amy's possessions?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
"Wrong answer. Illya?"
The Russian pulled a wicked – looking hypo from his pocket. Wendell opened his mouth to scream, but was silenced and jabbed at the same time.
"You'll answer now."