The two agents sat on the cave floor resting against the stone wall. They had been discussing and arguing for the past hour. "Napoleon, you need to win the competition! Brown, has such a vendetta against me that there is no way he will let me go scott free. It's important that you get that little girl back to her parents, or at least to her mother. I have a feeling that her father is going to be in jail for a long time after his deception."
"No, Illya! There is no way I'm going to let that bastard take you to THRUSH Central and get his jollies from having you tortured! You'll be able to find a way to get Lucinda to safety and make it back to UNCLE , I don't want anymore discussion about this. As senior agent I have made my decision. End of discussion."
The conversation was going in circles and they lapsed in an uneasy silence occasionally glaring at each other. Before long, Brown returned with his guards and Lucinda.
One of the guards carried two long ornate wooden cases. He placed them on a nearby table and opened them for the prisoners to see. Sitting inside each case was an épée with a gleaming blade. Missing from the tip of the blade was the spring loaded tip that measured the force of a touch when used in competition.
"My sources tell me that you both enjoy the art of fencing. That you, Kuryakin, have been teaching your partner for the past month or two. That both of you have become quite accomplished in the sport. So I am going to let you put on an exhibition for us. The winner will be released to escort Lucinda home.
"However, there is a bit of twist to this particular situation. Do not think you can just get by with slight taps to make a point. Each of you must draw blood at least once. The one who makes the second strike to draw blood wins."
The two agents looked at each other, both thinking that a light strike could draw blood without doing any real damage or harm to either of them.
"Ah, I can see from your expressions that you think this will be easy, a cake walk, so to speak. Well there is more to it. When you fight you must put true effort into it. The winner must make a strike that forces the blade at least five centimeters into your opponent's body. Only then will I declare the winner. And, in case you need a reminder…he drew a knife from his belt and held it to Lucinda's neck…if you decide to take it easy on each other there is another life, an innocent life, at stake.
"Now so your bodies aren't protected, you will strip down. Completely! No protective suits and no masks, and no clothes."
"This is ridiculous," Napoleon shouted as he approached the bars. He started to say more but stopped when Brown pressed his knife a little harder against Lucinda's neck.
"Mr. Solo, it seems you don't understand the rules very well. Do I need to draw innocent blood to make my instructions clear?"
The senior agent backed away, defeated. They had no choice. Slowly, the two UNCLE agents stripped down. The door opened and they were surrounded by guards and led out of their cell and down a long corridor. The end of the rock walled corridor opened into a large room that had been set up as an exhibition hall. Rows of chairs lined two sides of the room and flood lights shone on the center.
The guards pushed the two agents into the center of the room and were forced to face each other. Several of Brown's men sat in the chairs on the edge of the lighted area. Each armed with a sidearm in case the captors tried something funny.
The lights were slowly dimmed. Brown called out to the guard holding the épées. "Bring in the weapons! And make it fast…I want to get this started."
The guard tasked with caring for the weapons brought them forth. With the dimmed area around the chairs he misjudged a step and as he fell forward into the lighted circle he dropped the épées which scattered in two different directions.
"What the hell are you doing!" Brown screeched. "Pick them up, now and hand them to the prisoners and get it right!" He sounded nearly hysterical. The guard regained his balance, picked up the épées and handed one to each of the agents.
Brown regained his composure before saying, "Remember, when using épées a strike to any part of the body is legal. But you must draw blood. Dim the house lights. Contestants approach each other and salute!"
Kuryakin and Solo approached each other as ordered. "Napoleon," Illya whispered, "remember what I taught you. Watch the hips. Where they go so must I."
"Illya, we can't do this. I…I can't do this. We'll have to fake it and make it look good."
"You two must realize that I can hear you. I've told you the rules, now watch and take heed." Brown drew his knife lightly against Lucinda's arm making it bleed. She cried out. Brown brought her to the edge of the lighted area to show what he had done. Blood flowed from the wound he had created. "Try to defy me once again and the next cut will be deeper." He pulled her back from the light. "Begin!"
The two men separated and squared off. They started slowly as they gained familiarity with their weapons. The blades were longer and stiffer than the foils and fencing sabres they used when practicing. They were also heavier. Illya was having a bit of trouble flexing his wrist and hand due to the injury he received courtesy of the guard's rifle butt earlier in the day. He considered switching hands but realized that while he was indeed ambidextrous Napoleon had never practiced against a left-handed opponent which would put his friend at a disadvantage.
Each took steps toward the other, blades touching and causing the metal to sing as the blades scraped against each other. Illya stood back then stepped forward quickly and knocked Napoleon's blade aside before moving to score against him. Napoleon anticipated the move and used his blade to knock Illya's aside and thrust forward. His épée sliced a long scratch across Illya's chest.
"Illya! I'm sorry!"
"It is okay, my friend. We are doing what we must for the sake of the little girl. Play on!"
For the next few minutes the only sounds that could be heard was the ring of metal against metal, the quick foot steps of each as they approached, parried and attacked, and heavy breathing. Illya saw an opening and thrust forward landing the blade lightly against Napoleon's torso.
"Be careful, Kuryakin, your lack of force against Mr. Solo is not good for this little girl's health."
Illya heard the little girl scream. He took his attention off of Napoleon and yelled at Brown to stop!
As he turned to address Brown, Napoleon had already leapt into the air and struck Illya's left leg with the tip of his épée. Illya felt the tip against his skin and turned back to parry against the move. Unfortunately, that move caused the tip to drive further into his leg, exceeding the required depth by double-10 centimeters .
Illya dropped his épée and grabbed at his thigh. Napoleon dropped his and rushed to his partner.
"Enough! Mr. Solo, as much as it surprises me, you have one this competition. Guards take them back to their cell. Mr. Solo, in a while you will be released as promised."
Napoleon put Illya's arm over his shoulder and helped him back to the cell. The guards locked them up. Napoleon sat his partner down and helped him get into his clothes. He left the trousers off so he could address his friend's wound. It was a deep puncture wound with barely any bleeding. He yelled to the guard, "He needs some ice. Get me some ice, now!" The guard left. Fifteen minutes later he came back with ice. Brown accompanied him.
As Napoleon applied ice to Illya's wound the blond agent looked flushed. He looked up at Napoleon, "Napoleon, som…something… is wrong. I do not feel well, at all."
"And you shouldn't you filthy pig!. You've been poisoned! It won't be too long before you will be dead."