Irae didn't feel good about lying to the Russian, but how could she tell him what she knew? She located an empty office and put through a call to Diamene who was unavailable. Asking the soldier answering the phone to please make certain the Lady gave her a call as soon as possible, she then turned her attention to the file from THRUSH.

Crane's work was impressive, if a touch ghoulish. The virus was an infiltration device designed to settle in the brain and make the victim susceptible to suggestions. Early successes gave way to brains that dissolved into mush killing the victim. Still, three weeks of susceptible could do a lot of damage in the right place. Solo and Kuryakin had survived longer than three weeks. Something that could be attributed to aggressive treatment or to the strain mutating. She drew what she saw under magnification. There were several differences from the original notes.

This was not the original virus and the likelihood of mutation to make it what she thought it might be was slim. Damn. She called Diamene again. This time the blond answered, her slow delivery of the language as she spoke a welcoming sound.

Quickly, Irae explained the situation as she saw it. "He carries," she ended. She sensed a smile on the other end of the line.

"Well, it's not contagious as long as he doesn't bite anyone … while his mouth is bleeding."

"My Lady, does it occur to you that in the midst of combat when he might very well be bleeding is generally the time he might take a bite out of someone?" She heard the sigh on the other end. "There is no way to feed him the stabilizer without telling him. I do not think this would go over well."

"As you say. It's keeping him out of the field for now. Let me think about this and consult a couple of medical personnel here. Call me tomorrow, about this time."

"Understood. How is the boy?"

"As well as can be expected. It was a shock, but he is … adapting."

Irae smiled. "Glad to hear it. The family is doing well also."

"They land on their feet, the Drakoci. Tomorrow, little one."

Irae considered the endearment. It was a long time since she had been "little one". She went back to the file, discovering that Crane developed an antidote in case someone on her staff who was necessary became infected, although it seemed from the records that no one was so important to Crane that she would hesitate to record their progress through the illness. Still, an antidote was an antidote. She hurried back to Illya with the information.

Illya looked up from his own attempt to deal with a cure for the virus. "You found something?"

"Crane had an antidote … or thought she had. Here." She pointed to the pertinent data. "It is antiviral, but untested. Apparently she preferred to watch her subjects become mindless zombies instead of curing them when the virus started taking out their brains instead of letting her manage them."

"Zombies. There are no zombies."

"You don't believe in voudun practitioners, Mr. Kuryakin?" she teased lightly, grinning at his frown. "OK. Bad joke. Mindless slaves are pretty useless anyway. It seems that the initial forays into this experiment were short lived and messy, not to mention they lost all ability to follow orders within days. You and Mr. Solo were lucky she waited to inject you until she had a more … stable version." She met Illya's glare. "Sorry, but really, in spite of the inconveniences, at least you're alive to work on a further cure," she reminded him.

"It would be better if THRUSH had injected all of its personnel with this stuff instead of only a few," he grumbled.

"And then we'd be out of a job, which might, in the long run, be much better than THRUSH continuing to cause us to be employed. Shall I have medical put this together?"

"Nyet. I want to analyze it first. There is no point in trusting the notes of a THRUSH agent. This might be the formula for an antidote and it might be something else," he reminded her, taking the file. "Good work, Miss Chase."

"Thank you, Mr. Kuryakin. Is there anything else you need? I was considering food. My internal clock thinks I missed lunch."

"No. Go eat." His attention was obviously on the file now.

Irae left, satisfied her own hunger and returned with a sandwich which she placed on a table away from where Illya was working. She cleared her throat to get his attention. "Since I know you've been in here for hours, I brought fuel. Take a break, give it a rest, eat, return with a fresh eye. My micro instructor was quite clear on the dangers of becoming too involved with material." She ignored the look the Russian gave her. "If Solo were here he would do the same thing. Oh, my." She laughed as Napoleon came thought he door with a sack and a bottle of water. "I think I'll just go see how the hunt is progressing." A trail of smothered giggles followed her out.

Napoleon raised an eyebrow until he saw the sandwich Chase had provided. "Ah. Someone else providing lunch?" He set the bag and Perrier down next to the plate, accepting the file as Illya handed it to him. "And this is?"

"Cure. In theory." He picked up the sandwich and wolfed it down between gulps of water. "It was never tested and there's no guarantee it will work on the virus I'm carrying." He shrugged and continued eating.

"We can test it on your blood?"

"Da. But a true test will be wiping it out of my system."

"Once we've seen whether it will … What the hell?" Klaxons were shrieking all over the building. Napoleon stepped into the hall and grabbed a running agent. "What's up?"

"We're under attack, Mr. Solo. You and Kuryakin stay here. We'll take care of it."

"I hate being protected," he muttered as he rejoined his partner. "Some sort of attack. I got told to stay here." They exchanged a look. "Stupid suggestion," he muttered as they left the lab.