Stavros Stronghilos ran his thumb absent-mindedly along his facial scar, and adjusted the patch on his eye as he stared intently at the figure seated unconscious and bound to a chair on the terrace.
Napoleon's eyes opened slowly, squinting at the unexpected brightness of the sunlight; he was momentarily confused as the last thing he remembered was laying down on his bed still fully clothed as he fell asleep.
"Good morning Mr. Solo." Stavros greeted him coldly.
"That depends on your point of view" he shifted uncomfortably, "And why are you calling me that name? There better be a very good explanation as to why I am not in my bed right now and why you have me tied up." Napoleon seethed, continuing his ruse.
"Come now Mr. Solo...Mr. Napoleon Solo of U.N.C.L.E. I am afraid you can drop your little charade. You gave yourself away when you ventured into my workroom last night. How stupid of you to not even consider that I might have computerized surveillance equipment set up against just such an intrusion?"
"Oh well these little things happen," Napoleon smiled nonplussed, "One learns to deal with them."
"You realize I heard your entire conversation with Mr. Kuryakin, speaking of which; where is he?He has the Antikythera mechanism and I want it from him now."
Napoleon laughed. "Do you really think that we would give it to you?"
"No, I suppose not, but I had to ask." he smiled wickedly. Stronghilos ran his finger beneath the lapel of Napoleon's linen jacket and Solo readied himself thinking he was about to be hit.
Astarte walked onto the terrace looking quite unhappy and hung over from her dosing with the U.N.C.L.E. tranquilizer, apparently it had the same effect on her as T.H.R.U.S.H. sleep darts had on Illya, which tended to leave him more cranky that usual.
"One of those bumpkin archaeologists was just here looking for him Stavros. I said that Mr. Vaughn had returned to New York."
"Good, "Stavros said in satisfaction, " then his partner will undoubtedly know that we have Mr. Solo then."
The woman strode towards Napoleon. "You!" She seethed as she slapped Napoleon across the face.
He rotated his jaw, recovering from the impact of her blow and wondered if she were more angry over the failure seduce him or having had the tranquilizer used on her.
"Now now, temper my dear, we mustn't take things to heart, it was just part of the job," he smiled at her. "How's your head, by the way?"
Astarte backhanded him this time with a growl of displeasure.
"Enough for now!" Stavros ordered her to stop, "There will be time later for your games Astarte. Now tell me Mr. Solo, where is Illya Kuryakin?"
"Kuryakin is here?" Astarte blurted out.
"Don't be so naive my dear," Stavros said, "you should know by now that where Napoleon Solo is... Illya Kuryakin is not far away."
The woman's look became vicious. " I have some personal business to finish with that murderous Russian bastard. I look forward to getting my hands on him."
"Astarte, please?"Stavros interrupted her tirade,"Now Mr. Solo, back to the matter at hand. I want that device, so tell me where it is?"
Napoleon crinkled his nose in amusement, "No."
Stronghilos sighed witg impatience. "Fine then, we will take another route then shall we?"
Stronghilos snapped his fingers, calling two of his men to the terrace.
"Take Mr. Solo to the special room please? Astarte you may commence with your entertainment, but I warn you do not let things get out of hand."
"Stavros, you never let me have her fun anymore," she pouted as the followed behind the guards, dragging Solo off between the two of them.
"Well you may now do so, my dear. But keep it under control," he whispered to her before she followed after the guards.
Stavros picked up Napoleon's communicator from where it lay on the table beside him and opened it with a skilled hand, as he followed Astarte to her 'special room.' He was after all part of the science division of T.H.R.U.S.H. and completely familiar with many of the gadgets that his adversaries employed.
"Hello? He spoke into it. "I would like to speak to Mr. Kuryakin?"
"Just one moment please...Mr. Kuryakin is operating on Channel F.
I'll connect you."
The motor boat tied up to the Thetis and Illya reached down with his hand, helping the two climb on back board; he could see that Spyros was distraught.
"The woman Astarte... I've seen her with Stravros she answered the door and told me that Napoleon and had gone back to the museum in New York! I am sure he is in trouble!"
"Take it easy Spyros, slow down. I am sure you are correct, but we know how to deal with such situations...give me a moment. I will have to think this over as to what to do." Illya answered with no sign of emotion in his voice.
He walked away from the three of them, leaving them somewhat in a state of confusion as they were not accustomed to such things. They watched as Illya wandered away from them to the bow of the boat to mull over the situation.
A frontal assault, direct attack to the villa seemed like the only option, that was assuming that Napoleon was still there and alive and the Russian realized he would be the only one doing it. He could not involve the Greeks in that move, as it was too risky and he would not allow them as innocents to be put in further danger.
That was when his communicator chirpped, calling him from his thoughts.
He answered quickly, thinking that it was his partner and that Spyros had just made a mistake. "Kuryakin here...Napoleon?"
"No Mr. Kuryakin it is not. This is Adolph Starke, or perhaps at the moment you know of me as Dr. Stavros Stronghilos. I have your partner as my prisoner and in exchange for his safe release, I will take the Antikythera off your hands."
Illya suddenly heard Napoleon's voice in the background, calling out to him. "Don't do it tovarisch!" Then there was a loud noise and Solo's voice was silenced.
"As you just heard Mr. Solo's voice, that indeed verifies that I have him. Now do as I request and he will be released, unharmed."
"You need to give me a little time to make my decision doctor, as it is one that carries major implications and cannot be made lightly."
"Fine Mr. Kuryakin." the doctor spoke arrogantly, "You have one hour to do so. Be at my front door with the Antikythera in your hands or you will find Mr. Solos dead body at the bottom of the cliffs."
Hektor walked over to the Russian; seeing him put his communicator pen back into his pocket.
"Ákousa ton filo mou_I heard my friend. What are your going to do, surely you are not going to give it to him?"
This was something Illya had not anticipated. He went below changing from his bathing trunks and into a pair of black jeans and tee-shirt, then retrieveing the device from the table where he had reassembled it; he wrapped it in a towel, and returned above to the deck.
"Óchi parakaloúme na mito kánete aftó_no please do not do this? We can help you free your friend," Hektor and Spyros both pleaded with him.
Illya gestured firmly with his hand. "No...thank you my friends but I will not allow such a risk. I cannot permit collateral damage again," he said with the memory of Aphrodite Theohari in the back of his mind.
"Aeneas! Illya called, "Come, I need you to pilot the boat back to the dock for me.
Aeneas obeyed the Russian's stern order as Illya climbed down into the motorboat, lettiing loose the mooring rope and starting the engine. The curious dolphins leapt from the water alongside the dingy, following it eagerly this time right up to the dock. One of the creatures squealed and clicked as it stuck its head above the water looking at Kuryakin stepping up to the dock.
"Epistorofí stin Ainéias várka_go back to the boat Aneas."
"Allá_but?"
"Den epichéirí mata_no arguments."
Illya stood at the edge of the pier waiting until the young man departed as he had been told. The dolphin remained circling and splashing in the blue water as if it were trying to get the Russian's attention. Illya turned away, ignoring the creatures antics, and proceeded along the cobblestone walkway heading up the cliff through Fira, then onwards to Stronghilos' villa.
The winds were blowing wildly, moving the hot air around him, providing no relief as the fair-haird Russian moved along the pathway. and gusting strongly enough to make him shield his eyes from the fine dust in the swirling air.
He reached the villa at the appointed time; walking quickly up the steps. He pounded on the door, taking a step back, and drawing his special from his belt.
The door opened, and Stavros Stonghilos greeted him warmly, giving Illya a shiver in the midst of a strong gust of hot air as the man said his name.
"Welcome Mr. Kuryakin, please come in won't you?"
"No thank you. I believe we have an exchange to make?"
"Of course right down to business... no amenities of course. So true to your reputation."
Illya pointed his Walther directly at the man, giving him an icy blue-eyed stare, "Send Solo out and you can have this." Illya gestured to the bundle cradled in the crook of his left arm.
He suddenly felt something sharp jabbing him just under his chin. Trying not to move, he glanced to the side with his eyes, seeing Astarte Lovely holding the blade of her long stiletto. She reached over with her free hand, relieving him of his weapon.
Stavros smiled at him with satisfaction. "As I said Mr. Kuryakin, please come in."
Astarte held his own gun on him as he stepped through the doorway down into the courtyard.
"Oh and I'll take that, " Stavros said as he pulled the bundle from the Russian's arm." I suggest you raise your hands above your head and not make any sudden moves as Astarte apparently has some sort of personal anger issues anger you. No need to raise her ire any more than it is already."
Illya looked at the beautiful auburn-haired woman, dressed in a very tight white sleeveless jump suit, the front which was unzipped well below her cleavage. He wondered for a moment what this supposed issue was that she had with him, as he had never seen her before. He remembered faces, and one as especially as enticing as this one he would have surely been able to recall.
.
The room was dark, lit by several torches; there were several archaic torture devises house inside, an Iron Maiden, a rack and an a brazier stoked with hot coals, and a pair of iron pokers stuck in the middle of them.
Napoleon opened his eyes slowly, finding himself in pain as he looked down at the bloody red slash marks staining the front of his white shirt.
He suddenly remembered Astarte's game, how many cuts it would take before he passed out, judging from the blood on his clothing; it was quite a few. Then he heard a familiar voice beside him.
"It is about time you woke up."
"What are you doing here." Napoleon said as he saw his partner shackled to the wall beside him.
"Just hanging around waiting for you wake up so you can be rescued."
"Doesn't look like you're doing a very good job of it right now."
"Well if that is the attitude you are going to take..."
"Seriously, please don't tell me that you gave him the device?"
"All right, I will not tell you then."
"Illya?"
"Well not exactly, I did not give it to them willingly though I would have done so once you had been freed. That was the deal that I had with Stronghilos, you know."
Napoleon's words were a little sarcastic. "Well that went well, getting a little too trusting in your old age aren't you? You gave them exactly what they wanted and now they're going to activate a ...a decahedry thingy."
"Death ray?"
"Where did you come up with that?"
"That apparently is a more colloquial identification for it and it is a somewhat easier name to say than a solar-powered crystal decahedron cannon," Illya smiled.
"True it does roll off the tongue a little better. So you just gave T.H.R.U.S.H. a working death ray?"
"Napoleon, that remains to be seen," Illya said quietly."Trust me..."