I told you that chapter 3 was coming soon

Unknown location, the next day, Napoleon's p.o.v.

Napoleon groaned as he was roused from sleep by two hands shaking him none too gently. His eyes opened and focused on the owner of those hands.

Why am I not surprised…

Illya was kneeling next to him, staring at him. As was the case most of the time, the Russian had that look on his face of someone who has just tasted something really bitter but is too polite to spit it out and has to put up with the bad taste.

"Ah, Peril.", Napoleon said, pushing himself up to a sitting position. "It's nice to see a familiar face when waking up in a strange place."

He looked around him. They were in a large room with blank, white walls and an uncharacteristically high ceiling. The only piece of furniture was a table at the far end of the room. He had woken up with a headache and the light reflecting on the white walls wasn't helping.

"I assume you are as confused as I am as to why we're here?", he said, glancing at his partner.

Illya shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Cowboy."

Napoleon struggled to remember what had happened before he had passed out. He had been drugged, no doubt about that. He had received a message from Waverly. Their boss had not heard from Gaby in a while, she was on an assignment and hadn't reported back, all attempts to contact her had failed. Illya and him were supposed to meet with Waverly so that they could be briefed on the situation. Napoleon remembered finding it convenient that a taxi had been driving down his street just as he was leaving his apartment. The driver had insisted on shaking his hand and he remembered feeling a sting on the inside of his palm. Then, the world had started to blur.

A bit too convenient indeed…

"So you were drugged too?", Napoleon asked Illya.

The Russian had gotten to his feet and was pacing.

"Yes."

"How long have you been conscious?"

"A while. You remain unconscious longer because you are weak."

Napoleon sighed and pushed himself to his feet.

Peril's definitely in a good mood.

He took a few steps, he was still a bit groggy but he was also intrigued by the table and wanted to have a look at what was on it.

"Weapons.", Illya said, as he saw Solo heading for the table. "Mostly knives and clubs. No guns."

At that moment, the sound of someone clearing their throat filled the room. A startled Solo spun around to locate the origin of the sound. His eyes settled on a speaker on the wall, close to the high ceiling.

"I'm glad to see that you are both awake. At last.", the voice went on. "You look so peaceful when you're asleep, Solo."

Napoleon frowned, the voice clearly belonged to a man and had a taunting quality, but more importantly it sounded vaguely familiar to him. It was hard to be sure, as the voice coming out of the speaker was slightly distorted, but he had a feeling that he had heard it before, he just couldn't place it. He turned to Illya, hoping to see his thoughts mirrored in his partner's gaze, but the only thing he could read in the Russian's eyes was that he was particularly annoyed.

It was clear from what the man had said that he was watching them. Napoleon looked up and spotted the cameras, he also spotted a screen, embedded in the wall, which he had not noticed before, next to one of the cameras at the far end of the room. The screen was blank. This inspection had taken him no more than ten seconds. He decided to speak before the voice could go on.

"So you can see us but we can't see you. It hardly seems fair." He saw Illya roll his eyes but he knew his partner understood what he was doing.

The speaker crackled as the disembodied voice sounded again.

"Let's just say I'm not much of a public person these days, Solo."

So he could hear them too. This meant that he and Illya would not be able to communicate freely.

"What's the screen for then?"

"Patience, Solo, I'm going to tell you everything you need to know. I've waited so long for this, I want to savor this moment, so be a dear and shut your damn mouth."

Napoleon was tempted to counter with one of his trademark witty lines but a frown from Illya made him think better of it.

"I know you're probably wondering why you're here and who I am.", the man gave a curt laugh. "For now, let's just say that I am an old friend."

"You'll have to forgive us", Napoleon cut in, ignoring the "Shut up, Cowboy!" vibe radiating from his partner. "We tend to meet a lot of nutcases in our line of work."

"Oh, you've probably forgotten about me Solo, but I haven't forgotten about you both. It has been a long, long time, and I thought a reunion was in order. Now let me explain why you're here. Like I said you might not remember me but some years ago you completely destroyed what mattered the most to me; my life's work. And you almost managed to kill me too. But I survived and here I am, ready to return the favor."

Well that narrows it down… It sounds like about 90% of our missions.

Napoleon wondered why their captor was intentionally remaining vague about his identity. Maybe he thought that it gave him more power over them, or maybe he was saving the big reveal for later, the man seemed to have a taste for the theatrical.

"But enough about me, I'm sure you're eager to know what I brought you here for. Well it's very simple actually, you are going to fight each other until one of you dies. Now, you're probably asking yourselves what could possibly motivate you to try and kill each other."

Oh I can think of one or two reasons…

"Which is why I'm going to provide you with a little incentive. If I may direct your attention to the screen…"

As the man uttered these words, the screen came to life and Napoleon had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The screen showed the remaining member of their trio, Gaby. She appeared to be tied to a chair and had a large piece of duct tape covering her mouth. She was conscious and was glaring at the camera, probably the same type of camera that their captor was using to watch them. Napoleon tore his gaze away from Gaby to glance at Illya. The Russian looked furious but he remained silent, probably aware that voicing his anger was pointless and might have bad consequences for Gaby.

"Very pretty, isn't she? Don't you worry, she's completely unharmed. Luckily for her, I don't have anything against her since she wasn't working with you on the mission that ruined my life. I'm only using her to hurt you. But I won't hesitate to kill her if you refuse to play along. And believe me I've had time to prepare for this, I know how to make her death extremely painful."

A sudden loud noise made Napoleon start. Illya had just slammed his fist down on the table – and on one of the sharp instruments lying there, judging by the blood that was dripping from his hand.

"Easy now, Kuryakin, you'll have plenty of time to spill blood while you're here, but for now let me finish. Here are the rules of the game."

The image on the screen changed and Gaby disappeared, replaced by a timer. The voice went on.

"See that timer, boys? It shows the time you have left to decide who is going to die. Since you already have a time constraint, I'm leaving it up to you to choose the method. As you can see on the table, I've provided a set of tools. Feel free to use them. As long as one of you dies before the end of the imparted time, I will let Miss Teller go free and unharmed. If you're both still alive after the deadline, I will kill Miss Teller. Now if you both die, I will also kill Miss Teller, there has to be a winner for her to survive. The winner will take her place and die a painful death after being subjected to horrible torture. So the one who dies in this room really doesn't get the short end of the stick. Think of it as mercy killing. But bear in mind that the one who gets out of this room will suffer horribly before they die. And don't waste your time trying to escape. The only way out of this room can only be opened from the outside. I know that Solo is quite the escape artist but I'm afraid there are no locks to pick this time. Now that you've been briefed, I'll leave you two alone to think about it and decide which role each of you is going to play."

I was right, our friend is definitely into theatrics…

As silence filled the room again, Napoleon became aware of the blood pulsing in his temples. He and Illya exchanged a glance.

What are we going to do now?

Unknown location, Gaby's p.o.v.

Of course Gaby had heard everything the man had said to Illya and Napoleon. She kept turning the words in her mind, trying to find a loophole, one glimpse of a solution. But this time it seemed that their situation was indeed hopeless. Her heart constricted as she imagined Illya and Napoleon fighting each other to save her. She didn't want to die but the thought of Napoleon being forced to kill Illya – or Illya to kill Napoleon, of course – to prevent her own death was unbearable. The boys had managed to communicate a little bit in Russian before the man had stopped them, threatening to hurt her if they talked again. He obviously didn't understand Russian. And neither did she so she had no idea what Napoleon and Illya had said to each other. Then the man had left the room for a short while, leaving his henchman to monitor her partners' actions. Instead of sitting at the control panel, the henchman had walked up to her chair and bent down until his mouth was close to her face. She had been saved by the sound of the scientist's footsteps in the corridor. The henchman had swiftly walked back to the control panel before her captor entered the room. She shot the younger man a worried glance. As if she didn't have enough on her plate.

"It seems that your partners are having some trouble getting started.", the scientist said, winking at her. "Let's give them a little nudge, shall we?"

End of chapter 3. (sorry for the long chapter)