PROLOGUE

May, 1963

Catacombs, Paris France

The floating debris was starting to clear from the explosion. Illya Kuryakin shook his head, moaned, and proceeded to get up, brushing stones and sand from himself. His ears were still ringing. He felt around for something to lean against as he reached for the matches he had in his pocket. Lighting one, he held the flame before him, and looked around...there! He found what he was searching for. The flame went out as he dropped to his knees and put his hand behind Napoleon Solo's head.

"You okay, Cowboy?"

Napoleon coughed a few times and groaned, "Yes, I think so...my ears are still ringing."

"Mine, too. It will stop soon."

Illya lit another match. As Napoleon struggled to get up, Illya found the lantern still intact, lit it and soon they were able to see their surroundings. They stood amidst nothing but rocks and sand. The exit was blocked.

"You're bleeding, Peril..." Napoleon pointed to Illya's temple.

"That's the least of our problems...I don't know how we're going to get out of here..."

Napoleon started to dust himself off as he walked slowly over the stones and cement looking intense. He turned to Illya.

"We got ourselves in a world of shit this time, Peril..."

"Tell me something I don't already know, Cowboy."