Illya Kuryakin had now been missing for three days and so far there wasn't a single clue as to what had happened to him. Much to his frustration; Napoleon was having little success in the search for his partner's where abouts.
Elliott Kuryakin was away on assignment in Japan with her partner Ari Ziv, babysitting an ambassadors spoiled daughter and was unaware that her husband had gone missing again; leaving that news to be dropped in her lap when she returned to New York. Though Napoleon hoped Illya would be found safe and alive before Elliott arrived home.
But as each day passed, the same fear that gripped Solo's gut like a knot when Illya was missing in East Berlin for six weeks was back, growing stronger with the passage of time. As much as the Solo luck was touted; he thought that there was an equal pall of bad luck that seemed to hang over the Russian's head more often than not.
Olga Orloff the live-in nanny for the Kurakyin's son, as always had Demya, keeping the boy occupied; but was then unexectedly called to England as her sister had been hospitalized. This now complicated matters for Napoleon as he had been asked by the Kuryakins to be Demya's guardian should anything ever happen. For that reason he felt it was his responsibility to take care of the boy.
Napoleon had two options, send Demmy to Bella and her family, or stay with him at home at least giving the child some semblance of normalcy until one or both of his parents returned. He prayed it would be both.
Though the boy liked his Aunt Bella and her many nieces and nephews; the large family and volume level they generated seemed to upset Demya as he was more accustomed to a quiet home life with few playmates. For that reason Napoleon decided that the latter of his choices was the best option.
He would stay at the Kuryakin residence with his adoptive nephew. Alexander Waverly being very much aware of the situation assured Solo that unless it was of the utmost importance; he would not be sent into the field for now. It was times like these that the old man showed a greater compassion than usual towards his agents, since this was a monster of his own making...field agents with families.
Napoleon arrived, chilled from the crisp morning air. It was fall and foliage in the park across from the Kuryakin household was in it's full display of orange, red and yellow brightening up what was remained a grey day for him.
As he stood in the doorway, Olga offered him a telephone number that she could be reached at in England and was deeply concerned at having to leave the boy while his father was missing; but she had no choice.
"You sure you can do this ? He can be a handful? Remember if he starts to act up, speak to him in Russian. Oh the poor little thing, his papa gone again...poor Illuyshenka. Please find him Mr. Solo?
"Olga, I have just one question for you?" he flashed her his most charming smile, "just where is Demya?"
"Oh I'm so sorry, I was so busy worrying. He is asleep in his bed upstairs, moy malen'kii angel_my little angel. He doesn't know about his papa. And I assume you know his mama doesn't know either?"
"Yes I do."
A yellow taxi honked it's horn as it pulled up in front of the brownstone. "Oh there's my cab," she said shoving the paper with her phone number into his hand.
Napoleon tried to help her with her bag, but she wouldn't hear of it. Olga was a big woman and strong as a Russian bear, so he didn't feel ungentlemanly when she carried her suitcase down the stairs; handing it to the driver who took it from her with a grunt.
"God lady what'cha got in heah?" the man spoke with a thick Brooklyn accent.
Napoleon watched as the vehicle pulled away, locking the door once the taxi was out of sight, then he set the alarm code on the keypad just inside the hallway. He flicked a switch, turning the vestibule security camera on, then checked the image in the monitor before heading up to look in on Demya.
To the little boy it was life as usual; his mother and father off doing their jobs. He had stopped pestering about them bringing home a brother for him; being unusually astute for one so young, he realized that his continuing to ask upset his mother, so he stopped. He was surprisingly well adjusted, considering his home life and was exceptionally intelligent for a child his age, which sometimes made it difficult at times to dodge his very keen questioning.
Napoleon knelt beside Demya as he slept; feeling an overwhelming sense of of sadness, wondering if the child would ever see his father again.
"This great little kid could be orphaned at any moment in his young life, "he thought. It had come close to happening too many times already.
Illya and Elliott both wanted a second child but were having little success at producing another Kuryakin. Though in his mind Napoleon questioned if it was a wise decision to want to deliberately bring a second child into such a precarious life? But that was their business not his; though it made him think about his approaching marriage to Bella.
She had asked him outright if he wanted children and he had told her that he wouldn't mind having a couple of little Solo's running around some day, but now he wasn't so sure. Napoleon liked the idea of having a child of his own as he looked down at the blond boy sleeping peacefully. It was a warm and fuzzy feeling one rarely had in the world of espionage.
But was he so willing to risk leaving a child fatherless as Illya did? Could he do that? It was a difficult question that he would have to anwer soon, as Bella had the right to know if he decided against becoming a father.
Demya's blue eyes opened wide; looking so much like Illya's as the child focused on Napoleon's presence.
"Hi there." he smiled.
"Uncle Napoleon what are you doing here in my bedroom?"
"Auntie Olga had to go to England, so I'm here to stay with you while your mama and papa are away."
"How long will she be gone?"
"I don't know sweetheart, her sister is ill and she needs to help take care of her."
"She didn't say good bye."
"That's because you were asleep."
"What about my papa, he never said good bye to me this time. He said he would be home every night and we would play chess? But he hasn't come home." Demya had that same pouting look that his father had when he was unhappy.
Boris the cat chose that moment to jump up on top of the boy's stomach. Napoleon thanking her under his breath for distracting the boy from his questions about his father as the cat played with a shoe lace that Demya was now dangling above her head; she swatting at it as she let out a meow.
"You get tuna fish today Boris old girl," he said as he scratched her behind the ears, sending her purring into overdrive.
"Come on volchock_wolf cub, lets get you washed up and then some breakfast. How do blueberry pancakes sound?"
"No cereal?"
"Yes, cereal too, " he laughed, forgetting the boy had an appetite like his father's.
"Toast...and don't forget the toast and tea Uncle Napoleon."
"Don't worry I won't." he chuckled, "Yup, you are your father's son."
"And a banana, can I have scrambled eggs too?"
"No, and that's may I have scrambled eggs."
"Please?"
"We'll see how you do with the rest of your breakfast first, how does that sound?"
"I will eat it all I promise."
Demya suddenly looked very concerned. "Uncle Napoleon, do you know how to cook?"
Napoleon spent the morning trying to keep the younger Kuryakin occupied and deflecting more questions about his father. His mother had referred to him as a 'tornado' and that was right on the mark. He played hide and seek and in the process Demya destroyed a neatly stacked pile of laundry, a pile of periodicals and had dumped the contents of his toy chest across the living room floor and well pulling out the contents of a hall closet in he search for his Uncle. For a couple who had few belongings; they seemed to have accumulated a surprising amount of things. Books, games, toys and then of course there were Demya's belongings too. Though Illya's games and toys were more along the lines of experiments that he was always tinkering with.
Napoleon went from hide and seek to pony rides, tinker toys, coloring books, games of chess and it was barely noon.
But then just as his father would shut down when he was tired; thankfully Demmy did the same. He fell asleep on the couch, giving Napoleon a break to make some inquiries at headquarters before starting lunch, something simple this time that wouldn't require cooking; just peanut butter and jelly and a glass of milk and few cookies. Unless of course, the boy tried to weasel him into something else to eat. He smiled knowing that he would more than likely give in.
Demya again began to lose his steam late in the afternoon, finally settling into his Uncle Napoleon's lap asking for a story. The boy snuggled against him as he wrapped his arm around Demmy holding the boy as he rested against his chest. Napoleon grabbed a book of fairly tales by Hans Christian Anderson. Choosing the story called the 'The Most Incredible Thing;' he began to read it to him slowly with just a little drama.
"The one who could do the most incredible thing" he began, "should have the king's daughter and half the kingdom. The young men and even the old ones strained all their thoughts, sinews and muscles trying to do what would be judged as the most incredible thing."
"Judges were chosen from all the people as everyone competed in a great exibition of incredible things but all soon agreed that the most incredible was a huge clock in a case marvelously designed inside and out. On the stroke of heach hour a living figure came out which showed what hour was striking. There were twelve in all with moving figures." It was a short but clever story; he finally reached the conclusion. "And the princess married the one who made the work of art. All were glad and blessed him; there was not one who was jealous, and that was the most incredible thing of all. The end."
He looked down, realizing Demya was asleep in his arms. It felt good, to have such a little one so close, completely trusting and loving and that made Napoleon lean the other way, back to wanting children of his own someday. Yes, he decided that he wanted to be a father, feeling Demya's innocence had rekindled something within him. That wonderful spark of connection that Illya had with his son; Napoleon wanted that with a child of his own as well. He dozed off with a renewed feeling of hope, sleeping contentedly with the boy in his arms until he was woken by the ringing of the doorbell.
Napoleon looked at his watch, seeing it was just past five. That would be Bella. He laid Demmy carefully down on the the sofa as he answered the door.
She was there to take over for part of the the night shift, enabling Napoleon to go to headquarters to get some work done while trying to locate his partner but then the bonus was that he would return to spend the night with her.
He wrapped his arms around his Bellissima, kissing her passionately but she sensed the sadness that gripped him.
"Napoleon, I know you're going to find him. That's what you do right?"
He nodded silently, standing in the doorway when they both saw a pair of blue eyes peaking at them around the corner from the living room.
"Hey you..."Napoleon childed playfully, "It's not polite to eavesdrop." Demya ducked out of sight, giggling mischieviously.
Bella looked oddly at Napoleon.
"Well it's not?" he said to her in all seriousness.
She smiled at him. "This coming from a spy?"
He chuckled then shrugged, giving her a quick peck on the cheek as he headed out the door.
"I'll be back baby."
"You'll find him," she reassured as he disappeared down the street to his car.
Traffic was heavy as drove up East 14th Street, heading towards the Avenue of the Americas as Napoleon rehashed in his head the possibilities of what could have happened to Illya. But then his thoughts drifted to Mike Anderson, remembering the man had made threats against Illya that day in the gymnasium; swearing that Illya would pay?"
Why hadn't he thought of him before? He blamed the Russian for getting him dismissed from Uncle, in Solo's mind this made him a prime suspect. Anderson was supposed to report to medical for a check up on his injuries and to be deprogrammed this evening. He hoped he could to get to him before that happened as the process would wipe everything U.N.C.L.E. from his memory, including any information about Illya.
Napoleon pulled his communicator.
"Channel D- Waverly."
"Yes Mr. Solo?"
"Sir, I just recalled that Agent Anderson had made threats against Illy..Mr. Kuryakin, could he possibly be behind this? He was due for deprogram today wasn't he? I hope that hasn't been done yet."
"Unfortuately Mr. Anderson did not keep his appointment. We presently have his apartment under surveillance as it is of the utmost importance that he be deprogrammed as soon as possible."
"Sir, can a member of security meet me at Anderson's place? I think I'd like to have a look around if that's alright with you."
"Yes by all means Mr. Solo please do so. I suppose at the moment, Mr. Anderson is our only person of interest, as no other leads are panning out."
"I agree sir."
As usual Mr. Solo, keep me informed. Out."
Napoleon and the security agent easily broke into the apartment. The place seemed normal, spartan as most agent's abodes would tend to be as they were rarely home. Though this place wasn't nearly as austere as Kuryakin's old apartment had once been.
They searched, looking for anything that might be a clue to Anderson's involvement but found nothing. Right now he would continue as the only person of interest as there was nothing coming over the Thrush communications indicating any UNCLE agent had been taken captive or killed.
Nothing going on from Europe, the STASI and KGB being the likely supects. Waverly had contacted the C.I.A. and was assured they were not involved in the Russian's disappearance; though their word was not always reliable.
Anderson's apartment was kept under continued surveillance. Three days later he finally appeared and was taken immediately into custody, being brought to interrogation at headquarters.
Solo let the man sit for a while, knowing that he was familiar with standard interrogation techniques. Waverly stood with his CEA behind the two way mirror; studying the man as he sat impatiently at the table, seemingly annoyed.
"That does not look like a guilty man to me,"Waverly said as he puffed casually on his pipe, filling the viewing room with the heady odor of his special blend, Isle of Dogs #22. "See what you can do Mr. Solo, then report to me in my office."
Solo walked into the interrogation room, not saying a word as he closed the door behind him.
"What the fuck is going on here Solo? You have no right to hold me here. Remember I don't work for U.N.C.L.E. anymore?"
"So Mike where have you been? You missed your appointment with Dr. Schneider. He was very concerned about checking your injuries, after all they are technically our liability even though you don't work for us any more?"
"I'm so touched at the concern. And as to where I was, well it's none of your freakin' business. Where's that piss-ant partner of yours; maybe I'll talk to him; it'll give me a chance to give him a piece of my mind."
"Mr. Kuryakin will be down shortly, but I don't think you'd like him to conduct this little interrogation. You know we usually have to restrain him when he's alone with a prisoner. He takes his work quite seriously."
Anderson became aware of the tick tick tick of the clock on the wall; it's sound beginning to get on his nerves.
"Ugh...yeah that's right. I forgot about that. Maybe I don't want to talk to him after all. Hey, I'm not really a prisoner am I? I mean, I know I was supposed to report for debrief, but that's not a crime...is it?"
"Well tell me where you were and we'll see?"
Tick tick tick...
Anderson was perspiring heavily now and his voice went slightly up in pitch.
"No. I didn't do anything wrong, so why should I?" he said becoming a little more defiant. "Why do I have to give you an alibi? What's happened?"
Tick tick tick...
Napoleon suddenly grabbed him by the lapels, pulling him from the chair, shoving him up against the grey wall.
"I want to know where the hell you were for the last three days!" he growled.
Tick tick tick tick...