It felt like a town that time had forgotten. Not that the overcast sky and drizzle helped matters. They made the cobblestones slick and while Napoleon had not fallen yet, the threat remained.

He had knocked upon door after door, mostly ignored, but the few who answered stared blankly at him and refused to respond to his plaintive, "Ma poti ajuta? L-ai văzut pe acest om? Can you help me? Have you seen this man?"

"Any luck?" Illya sounded as tired as Napoleon felt. Even handmade Italian shoes didn't help assuage the ache in his arches.

"Nothing. Either my pronunciation is total rubbish or they don't know anything."

"Or they do and they are too afraid to say anything."

"We're sure Maihita Net is here?" Napoleon started the walk back to the inn where they had let a room.

"So Intel has led us to believe." Illya continued to study his surroundings. "We're being watched." Curtains moved as if by an invisible wind as they passed.

"Have been all day," Napoleon said, quietly. "I'm sensing they know-"

"But are unwilling to say."

"Or too scared to. This guy's a butcher. It wouldn't be the first village he'd terrorized. Remember that town in Poland?"

"My nightmares do." Illya repressed a shudder. "Those kind of images stay with you. Those poor people."

"Better we catch this guy and put an end to his tyranny."

"But we can't catch what we can't find."

They arrived at the inn and Illya let Napoleon precede him. Instantly, the chatter in the room silenced and Napoleon walked up to the desk while Illya headed to the fireplace. "Our key, please?"

The young girl behind the counter nodded. "Will you require dinner?"

"Yes, please."

She glanced around and said. "I will bring you a tray in your room." Then she added, quietly. "The walls have ears here."

"Thank you."

Napoleon palmed the key and signaled to Illya.

Their room wasn't much, but it had a small fireplace and a comfortable bed. That was enough for Napoleon. He stretched out on it while Illya went down to hall to use the shared bathroom to shower off the day's disappointments.

He'd only arrived back a moment when there was a knock on the door. Illya moved quietly to where his suit hung and pulled his weapon. Only then did Napoleon open the door a crack.

It was the young woman from the front desk with a tray and at Napoleon's nod, the pistol went back into its holster.

There were Sarmale, spicy cabbage rolls, Mici, minced meat sausages and polenta, with Papanași, a cottage cheese and semolina mixture that was fried, then smothered in sour cream and blueberry jam. It was the Papanași that caught Illya's eye.

"My grandmother used to make these."

"Your grandmother was Romanian?" The girl, Ruxandra, asked as she set the tray down.

"My paternal grandfather was." Illya moved to help her.

"So, perhaps, not a stranger to our ways?" She offloaded the dishes and held the tray close to her, as if it was a shield.

"Not a stranger at all." Napoleon pulled out a chair. "Would you join us?"

She looked back at the door, then walked quickly to it and yanked it opened. The hall was empty.

"It is wise to be wary," she said, by way of explaining her actions. "The eyes and ears of Cel Rău are everywhere."

"Cel Rău?" Napoleon took his chair and started to portion the meal into threes.

"The Evil One," Illya translated.

"Yes, he is King of the Strigoi."

"Vampire?" Napoleon guessed.

"Close enough. An evil spirit."

"He lives on the hill. We dare not go up there or we will be struck down by them. He used to be like us, but then he went to the mountain and they possessed him. He came back and has done terrible things to us."

"Why don't you have him arrested?"

Ruxandra laughed bitterly. "My grandfather tried to have him arrested and he was killed. My father, he was so incensed, he attempted to kill Cel Rău. He was flayed and quartered in the town square."

"But surely he's just a man." Napoleon paused in his task and Illya shrugged.

"When you consider some of the stuff we've heard…" Illya sighed. "Do you know where he is?"

"Yes."

"Then tell us and we will stop him."

"You will die."

"Perhaps, or perhaps we will win and your town will be free."

"Look to the Black Mountain. There is a building. He is there." Ruxandra stood and clenched her fist. "Now, you must look as if you've used me."

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"For my delay or there will be suspicion and I will be visited in the night."

A few moments later, Ruxandra stumbled out of their room, her dress torn, her face stained with tears. She fell and looked fearfully over her shoulder. She got to her feet and made her way back downstairs. All of her men folk were angry, but they, too, had heard the questions these men had asked earlier and knew it was best not to interfere.

Inside their room, Napoleon had his communicator out and was talking with New York. "Sir, we have located Maihita Net. He has taken refuge outside a small town."

Illya pushed his food around on his plate as he listened. He knew all too well the fears and superstitions that haunted these small remote villages.

Napoleon tucked the communicator away. "Everything is being arranged."

"Now we just have to stay alive long enough to see it through."

"What do you mean?"

"Maihita Net's enemies had a frightening way of disappearing and we have made no secret of our search for him. Surely, he knows we are here."

"Probably. Ruxandra said the walls have ears and eyes." Napoleon lifted the fork to his mouth, but Illya caught his wrist and shook his head. Immediately, the utensil was replaced.

"Ruxandra?" he murmured.

"Possible, but also a victim." Illya went to his day pack and pulled out a handful of energy bars. "Not quite the same, but safer." He also placed his canteen on the table.

"And now we wait." Napoleon tore open a wrapped and began to chew unenthusiastically on the bar.

The door to their room creaked opened and a lone figure slipped in. It moved to the table and began to gather the dishes, ignoring the unmoving bodies of the two men.

At least until one of them grabbed her wrist. Illya's other hand clamped down over Ruxandra's mouth. She struggled in his arms, her eyes wide as Napoleon stood.

He brought the communicator to his mouth. "Do it now."

"It's too late," Illya whispered in her ear. "Cel Rău will be ours."

"No." She fought against him. "He has my mother, my daughter."

"If that is the case, then it is best we wish for them a fast and painless death." He released her. "Certainly, it was a consideration we weren't afforded."

"Don't you understand? We have no choice."

"There are always choices."

Napoleon's communicator chirped. "Open Channel D."

"We have him, sir."

"That quickly?"

"I'm sensing a trap," Illya said, pushing Ruxandra towards the bed.

"Jensen, be careful, this guy is known for his villainy. I'm willing to bet whomever you have, it's not who we want. Search that place from top to bottom and turn it inside out."

"Acknowledged."

Illya paced the small room while Napoleon contented himself to sit and study Ruxandra. Minutes stretched into an hour and then another. When both communicators went off at once, they exchanged knowing glances as Napoleon answered.

"Jensen here. We have him sir, the right one this time."

"Excellent, Jensen. Bring him to us. We will meet you in the town square." He looked over at Illya who was standing by the window.

"How many people did you find alive?" He listened and nodded. "Thank you. Yes, that will be fine. Kuryakin out." He blew out a big breath of air. "Ruxandra, we believe that we have found your mother and daughter alive and in reasonably good shape."

"Cel Rău?"

"Is no more and we will prove that to all of you. Call your village together."

Napoleon was surprised just how many people there were in the town. He'd not seen more than a dozen people since he'd been here, but now they seemed to be crawling out of the woodwork.

"I hope this doesn't get out of hand," he said to Illya, who nodded as he watched the crowd.

"We have a helicopter standing by. As soon as they have a chance to see him in custody, Section Three will whisk him away.

The town visibly reacted as the figure, flanked by UNCLE agents on either side, was dragged to the middle of the square. The restraints were just enough to permit him to stand, but not much else.

"He doesn't look so terrifying now, does he?" Napoleon asked Ruxandra as her young daughter clutched to her mother's skirt and whimpered.

"I'm sorry, Napoleon," she murmured.

"Not at all. You didn't know."

"Neither did you." At that Napoleon started to turn and his world went dark.

He woke to rain on his face. He was lying on his back in the center of the town square.

"You'll be fine in a minute." Illya was beside him, helping him sit up.

"Ouch, what hit me?"

"Probably the same thing that hit all of us."

"What?" A rush of adrenaline washed the remains of grogginess from him and he struggled to his feet. Around him, other agents were also in the process of waking up.

"Where's Cel Rău?"

"Gone. All that remains are his chains."

"Ruxandra?"

"Also gone. As far as I can tell, we are the only ones left."

"Waverly is going to have my guts for garters."

"Probably, but you had no way of knowing." Illya looked around at the now deserted village. "None of us could have guessed that the entire village was on his side. Back to the hunt now?"

Napoleon nodded and started to walk back to the hotel. At least he hoped his luggage would still be there. "He'll probably lay low for a few months, just enough time for his trail to go ice cold. We were so close." Something caught Napoleon's eye and he grabbed Illya's arm.

"What's wrong?"

Napoleon pointed up to a sign. "Do you remember that being there before?"

Illya stared up at the sight of a man hanging buy his arms in a crucified manner. Or at least he thought it was a man, much of the body and flesh had been torn from it.

"Is that…?"

"I think so."

"I guess Cel Rău was closer than we realized."

"Talk about your pound of flesh." Napoleon waved to some agents. "We're going to need a couple of ladders." He watched the men run off in search of them even as they were joined by others. "I hope it brought them peace, the villagers."

"After what we saw, I don't think anything would." Jensen's voice was tight with emotion. "And, honestly, I think that's better than he deserved."

"Perhaps he'll find the peace in the afterlife than eluded him in this one." Napoleon's eyes narrowed. "But I hope not. Let's go home."