Napoleon Solo took a careful step, testing the flooring to see if it was weight bearing. Only then did he move forward before repeating the action again. Lightning flashed and he paused, then pulled out his communicator.
"The next time I complain about being bored with deskwork, remind me of this moment," he murmured into it.
"Trade you."
"Why, what are you doing?"
"Out in the elements, going through the trash heap out back. Apparently, they collected road kill."
Napoleon made a face at the thought of what that would have done to his suit. Mr. Waverly wasn't likely to be understanding of yet another dry cleaning charge to his business account.
"Napoleon?
"Yes?"
"Exactly what are we looking for? It can't be raccoon carcasses… can it?"
"Not likely." He stopped before a door and a wave of déjà vu made him catch his breath. "I'll get back to you. Solo out." He capped and put the pen away before Illya could say another word.
"I know this door, but it's impossible."
Suddenly, he was not the suave and sophisticated UNCLE agent of today. Instead he was a wild and fun-loving brother, determined to get his goodie-two-shoes sister in trouble.
One stormy day, he had his chance and he took it. Napoleon had long since learned not to look a gift horse in the mouth and lose an opportunity by hesitating.
Mom and Dad went into the city to do the monthly grocery shopping. It meant they would be gone for hours and as usual, Josie decided she was in charge.
Napoleon was still smarting from his loss of privileges, simply because he'd snuck out in the middle of the night to hang around with the gang. They hadn't done anything bad, well, not too bad, but that didn't mean squat when he came home and Dad was sitting on his bed waiting for him.
Napoleon was too big to spank, but that didn't mean his punishment was any less painful. He was grounded and his chores increased. When he finished with them, he had to do extra homework, something his teacher was happy to comply with. She always contended that Napoleon was too smart for his own good. It wasn't his fault she was boring.
The cellar had always sort of been off limits to them. It wasn't so much as there was some hidden treasures down there, it was more of keeping them away from the wood-burning furnace. Josie didn't like it because of the cobwebs and Dad's propensity for hanging game at the base of the stairs when he prepped it.
How Napoleon managed to talk her into it was a mystery. "Hey, Josie, there's something I want to show you in the basement."
"I bet there is. I don't want to see any dead rabbits, Napoleon."
"We haven't gone hunting in a month. I found something when I was stacking wood."
"What?"
"I need to show you."
She had tied on a kerchief to keep her hair free of webs and permitted him to lead the way.
"It's over here." Napoleon eased himself down the wooden stairs slowly and reached out to catch the pull cord for the light. It made the bulb dance as he tugged it, causing shadows careened in and out of sight.
"What?" She didn't sound convinced.
He walked carefully over the rough unfinished basement floor to a remote corner of the cellar. Here the shadows barely surrendered to the light of the 60-watt bulb. "There."
He pointed to a door, the paint so old that its color was a mystery. "There."
"So it's a door. Big deal." Still she came closer and studied it. "It's padlocked."
Napoleon pointed to a key. "But why? What could be down here that needed to be locked-" He held up his hand. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"It sounds like…" He laughed nervously. "Naw, it couldn't be."
"Couldn't be what?" Josie looked over her shoulder and then back. "I didn't hear anything."
"Mom had me help her clean out the office." This part was gospel truth. "And that's when I found it." Here came the lie and it was a whooper.
"Found what?"
"Travis's birth certificate."
Josie made a face, "Who's Travis?"
"Our big brother. Wait, you didn't know?"
"It's just us, Napoleon, you and me."
"Nope, first there was Travis. He didn't come out quite right, though." Napoleon pressed his ear against the door, listening. "Even as a baby, he was dangerous. When he was five, he tried to stab Mom with a knife. That's why she always keeps them locked up. Finally, Mom and Dad had to lock him up down here for their own safety and ours. It's why they won't let us come down here alone."
"I always wondered why," Josie said, slowly. Her eyes were growing ever wider.
"Hey, hey, Travis, are you in there?" Napoleon murmured quietly. "It's me, Napoleon, and Josie is with me, too." He listened. "No, I don't think that's a good idea."
"What?"
"He was wondering if we could let him out."
"But, Napoleon, being locked up in there isn't healthy." She was reaching for the key. "If he's truly sick, we need to help him, not lock him away."
It was exactly what Napoleon knew she would do. "I wouldn't."
"Well, I would." She unlocked the door and peered in. "Travis?"
Abruptly, Napoleon gave her a rough push and pulled the door closed behind her.
"NAPOLEON!" Josie sounded more mad than scared.
"Remember this the next time you want to go blabbing to Mom and Dad."
He took off, heading into town. Glen and Larry were surprised to see him, but clearly delighted he'd made good his escape. They sat through the double-header monster movie at the theatre and then went for sodas.
He was going to be in trouble for this, it but was so worth it. He arrived home and the compressor in the barn told him the milking was in full swing. Still, he knew he needed to go home and face the music…
Except there was no one there. Mom and Dad must have gotten stuck in the city because of the storm.
"Ye gods!" Even though he wasn't fond of his sister, he wasn't totally a jerk. He raced down the stairs to the door.
Napoleon pulled it open. "Josie?"
There was no answer. He took a step in and reached for the light switch. It flashed on and a face loomed right in front of his.
"Boo!"
He screamed and everything went black.
"Napoleon?" He woke up on the couch, a cool cloth on his forehead. His mother looked worried and more than a little concerned. "What on earth were you trying to prove?"
"P-p-prove?"
"That fallout shelter had been locked up for years. Heaven only knows what's living back there now."
"Fallout shelter?"
His father was there, too. "Uh huh. Your grandfather built it when he thought we were soon to be overrun by the Red Threat." He laughed then. "When we got home, Josie was trying to drag you up the stairs. Guess she scared you."
"What?"
"She told us how she lured you in there and then surprised you."
Napoleon looked at Josie and she smirked. "Now we're even."
His mother looked confused. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"
"Nothing, Mom, would you like me to start dinner?"
That startled her mother. Josie never offered to help. "Of course, that would be delightful."
His father helped him sit up. "You might want to go and get changed, too. You *um* had a little accident."
Napoleon hadn't realized it before, but his shorts were wet. He'd actually pissed himself by what he saw. Not Josie's face, but that of a lunatic, half crazed from isolation, wild eyed, drooling, and very, very angry.
"Hey, Napoleon are you okay?" He jumped at the sound of his partner's voice.
"What?"
"That's what I'm asking you. You haven't been answering your communicator. I thought you'd fallen through the floor. I got in here to find you staring at a wall."
"Not a wall, the door."
"There's no door there, Napoleon." A flash of lightning illuminated the hall behind Illya and for a moment, Napoleon would have sworn that he saw Travis standing there. "Come on, Mr. Waverly has scrapped the assignment."
"Um, Illya, do you have plans tonight?"
"Not aside from a shower and a change of clothes."
"Fancy a drink and maybe some dinner?" He managed a hollow laugh. "After said shower and change of clothes?"
"Sure. Any particular reason?"
"Just chasing away the ghosts of the past."
"Ghosts? You have ghosts?"
"Yeah, I'll tell you at dinner." Squaring his shoulders, he walked down the hallway and softly, ever so softly, he heard a faint, "Boo!"