Illya awoke, sitting in a dimly lit room with a splitting headache and his hands were tied behind his back.
The floor was hard, probably concrete...it felt cold against his rear end.
As he looked around he saw no sign of Susan. There was a window above him to his right that appeared to be boarded up with piece of new plywood, so unless there were bars on the other side of it, his little prison might not to be very secure.
The door wasn't barred, nor did there appear to be a lock, just a simple brass door handle. It looked to be made of wood and to have been freshly painted. The smell filled the room as well as did that of freshly cut wood.
This made him hope he'd been merely tucked away in a basement storage place. Illya was confident his escape could be managed but his concern was still for Susan.
The girl would be a valuable hostage and could be used against her grandfather and thereby UNCLE as well.
Illya squeezed his eyes closed for a second; his head was going to be handed to Alexander Waverly on a silver platter for this. He deserved it for fouling up and would face his punishment whenever and however it came. Right now Susan was his only concern.
Illya's eyes snapped open, listening as the door moaned while it slowly opened. A figure stood silhouetted against the light that streamed through.
A pale hand reached in, flicking a light switch and Illya closed his eyes, and squinted until they adjusted to the sudden brightness.
"Who are you and where is the child who was with me?" Illya called out.
"Shut up Kuryakin! You don't get to ask the questions here."
"Am I to presume you work for T.H.R.U.S.H."
"Good guess Russkie," the man snickered."And catching you is going to give me a big promotion."
"I will repeat myself, where is the girl?"!"
"What's she to you?"
It was at that moment Illya realized the goon didn't know who Susan was.
"Nothing, just a youngster who got left behind at the museum. I was going to take her to my hotel until her family could be located."
"Yeah right, you and a young girl. I bet you were planning to have a little dirty fun with her. No wait a second, I heard you liked boys or maybe you just like messing with kids."
Illya's nostrils flared. "I do no such thing! I am not a pervert, unlike members of your organization."
That earned him a slap in the face.
Kuryakin slowly turned his face back, glaring as he did. "For what reason do I have being pleasure of your company then, Mister...I do not believe I know your name though you know mine."
"Fair enough. The name's Evan Black and I'm looking to make a name for myself with the Hierarchy. I figure that if I captured and brought in the great Illya Kuryakin then I'd get some major points with the big shots and move up in the ladder, maybe get a satrapy of my own. It would be nice to be the boss for once."
"How ambitious of you, now as to the girl. I hope you will let her go as she has nothing to do with all of this."
"What's with the girl again? You seem awfully concerned about her."
"It is only because she is an innocent child. You were a child once and did not Evan Black posses a modicum of innocence at one time in his life. Do you not recall it?"
"Yeah I was a good kid once, but that was a long time ago."
"Perhaps in remembrance of your lost innocence, you could see fit to let the girl go. Then it will be just you and me, and if you do as I ask, I will cooperate," Illya spoke sharply this time.
"All right, don't get your nose out of joint. I'll let her go as long as you promise you'll do what you said and won't try to escape."
Illya didn't hesitate, "I give you my solemn word as an UNCLE agent."
Of course he was lying, but he had a feeling this Black character was a bit naive. It was worth taking the chance as long as it got Susan safely out of the picture.
"Done deal then. I gotta say it was pretty easy grabbing you, then again I really caught you off guard. I spotted you and the kid at the museum as I was casing it to maybe steal some paintings, I figured you were a safer bet. So I waited in the taxi I borrowed as I figured you'd need one after staying so late looking at all that artwork. And there you and the girl appeared and I pulled up in the cab. It was a piece of cake!"
"Such a clever plan," Illya droley replied. "I am surprised that a man of your abilities is not already a member of the T.H.R.U.S.H. Council."
Black raised his hand to strike Kuryakin again as the Russian's sarcasm wasn't lost on him, but he stopped himself. Maybe this would get him a seat on the Council?"
"Before you let the girl go, may I see her to say goodbye?" Illya asked in a soft, compliant tone of voice.
"Yeah, why not?" Evan said. He approached the agent, hefting up to sit on a single chair that was in the room. Evan redid the ropes on Illya's wrists, making them tighter, and for good measure he tied his ankles to the legs of the chair.
There he left Kuryakin, closing the door after himself.
Illya continued to work at loosening the binding on his wrist, though Black did a better job of restraining him this time.
A few minutes passed before the door creaked open again. Evan had Susan by the arm and was holding onto her tightly. She seemed to be unharmed as far as Illya could see.
"Hello young Miss, how are you?" Kuryakin asked.
"I'm fine, but this is weird, I must have fallen asleep in the taxi. I was in a bathroom and couldn't get out until this man came and got me. I thought you said we were going back to your hotel. Is this your hotel? It looks more like an office building.
"No this is not my hotel, though that was the plan, but I am sorry but I will not be able to help you find your parents. This gentleman is going to help instead." Illya only hoped the child didn't use his name.
"But what about you Mister," she understood by his formal greeting that she should say little, much less his name." You said you'd help me."
"I can not. I would suggest you go back to the museum where I found you and wait there for your parents to come looking you. You must be brave like the Emperor Napoleon." He hoped saying Solo's name wouldn't spook Black.
"Okay Mister. Bye and thanks."
Evan led her out, closing the door again behind himself.
Illya only hoped Evan Black wasn't lying as well…
.
Napoleon's reaction after being unable to locate Susan was to head back to t he National Gallery of Art as that's where Illya was going to take her.
However, this time of night it would be closed, but there might be a clue, a security guard he could speak to, a security tape...something that might help.
On his way to the museum Napoleon decided to try his communicator again.
.
Illya was still working away at his bindings when his communicator pen chirped to him. It was in the breast pocket of his suit and he was surprised the Thrushman hadn't relieved him of it.
After a bit of maneuvering and wiggling on his part, he was able to pull the antenna up, but there was no way he could assemble it to speak. He could only assume it was his partner looking for him, and hoped now that there was at least a signal, Napoleon could home in on the location of it with his own communicator.
.
As Solo's taxi pulled up in front of the museum, he spotted a lone figure curled up, sitting on the steps. He told the driver to wait, and quickly stepped out of the cab, calling to her.
"Susan!"
The girl looked up, her eyes widening at the sight of a familiar face.
"Napoleon! Some crazy man has Illya!" She ran to Solo, burying herself in his arms and hugging him.
He pulled her back, holding her at arm's length and looked her in her eyes. "It'll be all right."
Surprised there were no tears, he could see the fear in her eyes. "It's okay. Now tell me where's Illya?"
"I don't know exactly. We got in a taxi to go back to the hotel and then it was filled with a disgusting green gas. When I woke up, I was locked in a bathroom it looked like a bathroom...like one in an office, not someone's home. After a while some guy took me down to see Illya who was in a basement. I think he was tied up. He looked all right, but he pretended not to know me and told me I should come back here to the museum to wait for my family to find me, then he said I should be strong like Emperor Napoleon."
"The man brought you back here; didn't you see the route?"
"No Napoleon, he blindfolded me, telling me it was part of a stupid game, though I knew why he did it. I did count the time it took to get from where ever we were to the museum. It took about five minutes."
Napoleon grinned."Susan you are a credit to your family." He pulled his communicator, taking a chance and to his surprise Illya's communicator was active; he could home in on the signal.
Now here was a dilemma, he couldn't leave Susan sitting here by herself and there wasn't time to wait for another taxi to arrive. The ladies couldn't leave the children in the hotel to come and get her; the only thing he could do was take her with him.
He took her by the hand and led her back towards the cab.
"Look, I have to find Illya, but you'll have to come with me and I want you to promise me if I tell you to do something, you'll do it."
"Yes sir." She nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation.
As the cab drove on, Solo listened to the beeping of his communicator.
"Say what is that Mister," the driver asked," One of those new fangled pagers?"
"Yes ummm, that's exactly what it is. Sorry for the noise but I can't get it to shut off. Just keep driving until I tell you when to stop."
The signal became stronger and when their ride was just about five minutes, the tone became constant, one long beep indicating they'd arrived.
"Pull over here," Napoleon said.
As the cab came to a stop, he got out but told Susan to stay put.
They were in front of an empty office building, one of many in the area that were being built to expand the commercial side of the nation's capital.
He handed the driver extra fare money to take the girl back to the hotel and leaned over, looking Susan directly in the face.
"Now I want you to listen to me, this is important. Tell Mrs. Gracey if I'm not back within an hour, she should call the police and tell them there are two UNCLE agents in trouble. Give them this address. Understand?
"Yes sir," she hesitated, "please be careful?"
"I will sweetheart." He waved the driver on after closing the door. Waiting until they were out of sight, he drew his gun and quietly entered the building.
Susan had said a basement, and once inside there was a door indicating STAIRS. Napoleon opened it, peeking into the landing to make sure the coast was clear.
A red emergency light cast an eerie glow on the steps as he carefully descended.
As he placed his foot on the final step…
'BANG!' A shot rang out, hitting Solo in the head.
Napoleon went down hard, and he laid there at the bottom of the stairs.
Evan Black looked to see who it was he'd shot. He couldn't see the person's face it was at the guy was backlit by the red lighting, and he was just a shadowy figure.
"Shit!" He cursed when he saw who it was. He'd killed Napoleon Solo, if he'd known who it was he could have captured him too!
He cursed again and again as he went back inside to see to Kuryakin. Leaning down almost nose to nose with Illya, Evan spoke.
"Got some bad news for you comrade. I just killed your partner Solo. I don't know how he found you but I guess he was coming to rescue you. So you got anything to say?"
Before Illya could utter a word Black's eyes opened wide.
The only sound was a 'pfffft' of a muffled gun firing.
A sleep dart protruded from the Thrushman's neck and and he slowly sank go the floor, landing at Illya's feet, his mouth hanging open in a look of shock.
Standing in the doorway was Susan Waverly with an UNCLE special in her hands. She held the gun in a two-handed grip and remained motionless. Someone had obviously shown how to hold and use a weapon.
"Illya are you okay?" Her voice was a little shaky.
"Yes, fine. If you would just please untie me? We can use the ropes to secure our friend here as a sleep dart will only keep him unconscious for so long."
Once untied Illya took the gun away from her, and seeing the letter S on the grip it, he feared the worst was true.
"Where did you get this?"
"From Napoleon, he was laying at the bottom of the stairwell. Illya there's lots of blood...I think he might be dead." She finally began to tremble.
Illya rushed through the doorway, finding with great relief his partner sitting up and holding a bloody handkerchief to his head. Apparently he'd been grazed and head wounds tended to bleed heavily even if they weren't serious. When Napoleon went down, he hit his head against the stairwell railing and was knocked unconscious, leading Black to think Solo was indeed dead.
"I guess you didn't need me to rescue tovarisch, instead I was the one in trouble."
"On the contrary I did need rescuing and was freed by someone," Illya gave a wave for the girl to reveal herself.
"Susan!" Napoleon barked. "Didn't I send you back to the hotel?"
"Sorry Napoleon, but I had a feeling you'd need help. I made the driver turn around and bring me back."
"If I wouldn't probably pass out young lady, I'd put you over my knee and give you a good spanking for disobeying me. You promised me you'd listen."
"Sorry Napoleon, I lied."
Illya couldn't help but smile when he heard her say that.
"Who taught you to use a gun like that Susan?" He asked.
"My grandmother. She said there might be a time when a protection detail wasn't around. She showed me where my grandfather keeps his guns. They're locked up but I know where the key is kept. I can only touch them if there's an emergency….Thomas can't as he's too young, but I can. I kind of thought this was an emergency, so that's why I took your gun Napoleon."
"And does your grandfather know?" Solo asked.
"No sir it's grandma and my secret. You won't tell him will you?"
Both men looked at each other, not quite sure how to answer that.
.
A team was dispatched from the D.C. field office and while Napoleon awaited their arrival, along with a medical team, Illya took Susan back to the hotel.
They came up with a plan to keep both of their heads on their shoulders...and their jobs.
.
After arriving at the hotel, Illya offered his humblest apologies to Mrs. Gracey, telling her that she and Susan had a bite to eat at a local bistro and completely lost track of the time.
"Well, other than my heart pounding, no harm was done. There won't be a next time Mr. Kuryakin should you ever be dispatched to such a duty with us again," the woman wagged her finger at him. " Mr. Waverly will not hear of it this time, but don't think I won't if such an incident should ever occur in the future!"
Illya lowered his eyes in contrition."You have my word Mrs. Gracey. Lesson learned. I will not make the same mistake again."
"It's not Illya's fault,"Susan interrupted. "I asked to stop and get a hamburger. I was hungry."
"Now you stay out of this Miss Susan, this is an adult conversation and none of your business child. Off to bed with you now."
"Yes Ma'am." Susan smirked, winking at Kuryakin.
"Poor Mr. Solo is off looking for the two of you all for naught," Mrs. Gracey droned on." The poor man is going to be exhausted but I'm sure relieved you and most importantly Susan are fine. Now good night Mr. Kuryakin." She spun on her heels, heading off to make sure Susan was tucked in.
.
Napoleon finally made it back to the hotel and was relieved that Mrs. Gracey took the bait hook, line and sinker. He climbed into his bed and fell right to sleep, as did Illya.
The field trip was now at an end, and the next morning the bus load of girl scouts, their chaperones and the two UNCLE agents made their return trip, with a few pit stops, back to Ridgefield Connecticut.
Once the children were picked up by their parents, and Susan was safely delivered to the Waverly house, it was Solo and Kuryakin's intention to return to New York.
"Nonsense, you've been traumatized!" Estelle Waverly insisted they stay the night and recover before driving to New York.
"Beg pardon?" Napoleon swallowed hard, wondering how the hell she found out. He looked to Illya who appeared nothing other than calm and placid.
"Yes, spending the weekend with all those prepubescent girls, not to mention that woman Edna Gracey...she's intolerable!" Estelle said.
"Ohhh," Napoleon nodded," It wasn't that bad at all, was it tovarisch?"
Illya chimed in, "No not bad. The children were well behaved and very interested in the museum, especially Rodin's The Thinker, it was the piece de resistance of their trip for ...Thinking Day, I believe they called it."
Alexander Waverly was not happy that his agents had been waylaid by his wife, but knowing her stubbornness he didn't even try arguing with her. He agreed to them returning the next day. There were no assignments pending at the moment.
As Napoleon disappeared upstairs to freshen up in the guest room he and Illya would share, his communicator called his attention.
Illya had just walked behind him and deposited his valise on his bed, and tossed Napoleon's over to his own.
The American had already stretched out and knocked the bag to the floor as he sat up to answer the call.
"Solo here."
"Well it seems you had a bit of an exciting weekend Mr. Solo."
"Sir?" He didn't want to give anything away, though there was no doubt the Washington office had notified the Old Man regarding Evan Black."
"This Black fellow. Tell me how this happened. Weren't you on protection duty for my granddaughter?"
"And we were sir. Umm, Mr. Kuryakin was at the hotel and I decided to take a little break. I ummm, went back to the museum, and was waylaid by Black. He recognized me and apparently thought capturing me would help him climb up the ladder with THRUSH and get him some sort of promotion."
"Yes, upon further investigation, he is a rather low level operative. I was surprised he was able to get the drop on you Mr. Solo, very careless of you. Perhaps you need a refresher course at Survival School?"
" Oh sir, I really don't think that's necessary. He got me with some sort of sleeping gas as I got into what I thought was a innocent taxi ride back to the hotel. No one would have been able to prevent that." Napoleon looked over to his partner who had his hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.
"Very well, we'll speak further on it when you return to New York tomorrow. Waverly out."
As soon as he closed his communicator, Illya let go a belly laugh.
"Not funny! If anything you should be the one with the sword of Damocles hanging over your head." Solo kicked off his shoes, laying back on his bed. "You're the one who screwed up, not me."
"I did not, as you even said to Mr. Waverly,' no one would have been able to prevent that. Still I have learned a lesson from all this."
"What's that tovarisch?
"Never underestimate a Waverly."
"You mean Susan?"
"Yes and perhaps Mrs. Waverly as well…"