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section7mfuTitle: The Peaceful Meadows Affair, chapter twelve
Summary: Finding the missing people at last.
By Lucky_Ladybug
Chapter Twelve
Illya sat back on the storage room floor, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket. “This is what I remember about the code next to the name at the top of the page, which was someone I didn’t recognize.” He scrawled a series of numbers and letters.
Napoleon, Wye, and Ecks—who was still recovering and had his head on Wye’s lap—studied it with him. “P233LRL?” Wye frowned. “It sounds like jibberish to me.”
“What if the ‘P’ stood for Panel or Passageway?” Illya offered. “Then what would you make of the numbers?”
“233 is our house number,” Ecks said.
“So the panel in our house? Then what?” Wye countered. “LRL . . . it sounds like directions on a map.”
“It could be left, right, left,” Napoleon agreed.
“We saw a maze of passageways on the Council members’ street,” Illya said. “What if the passageways for all the other houses don’t only lead outside?”
“You mean that perhaps everything connects and there’s a small-scale version of the Paris catacombs running under the entire community,” Napoleon realized.
“Exactly,” Illya nodded. “LRL could indeed be directions, perhaps to cells where specific people are being kept.”
“Then let’s start lookin’, shall we?” Wye smirked. “Or you two can.” He looked down at Ecks, who still seemed pale. “I’m not leavin’ this one. I’m sure you’re not ready to be up and around goin’ through panels and tunnels, are you, Ecks?”
Ecks sighed, closing his eyes. “I’d like to say Yes, but realistically I know I’d slow everyone down. I’ll be alright, though. You should help them, Wye; they’ll round everyone up much faster.”
“Nah, the girls’ll help them,” Wye answered. “If there’s a motorcar around here, we can just go back to the house and you can rest in my room so as not to disturb the procession through your wall.”
Ecks smirked slightly at that.
“We’ll make sure you get back to the house,” Napoleon promised. “You shouldn’t have to rest on the floor.” He paused. “And thank you for what you did. I didn’t have the chance to tell you before.”
Ecks looked somewhat embarrassed or awkward. “There wasn’t any point in letting Pea kill you,” he grunted.
Illya stood and went into the outer office. “There’s a car out front,” he said. “I should be able to hotwire it if the keys aren’t here.”
“A man of many talents, some dubious,” Napoleon said, folding his arms as he leaned on the doorway for a moment.
“You’re only jealous,” Illya returned. He picked up a set of keys left on the desk. “I’ll try these.” He headed outside.
Napoleon turned back to the storage room, watching as Wye got up and tried to carefully help Ecks stand. “Do you need any help?” he asked.
“We’ve got it,” Wye answered.
Ecks stumbled into him and reached up, steadying himself by gripping Wye’s shoulder. Then, slowly, he began to button his shirt.
Napoleon caught a last glimpse of the scar left by the knife Illya had plunged into him in Hyde Park. It was a chilling injury, especially since Napoleon knew how deadly wounds in that area could be. And it was strange to think that tonight, Illya had saved Ecks’ life instead.
Strange, but rather nice.
Illya came back to the office doorway just as Ecks finished and pulled his coat closer around him. “The keys work,” he announced. “The car is up and running.”
“Good,” Napoleon nodded, pleased.
“And there’s an interesting sight outside,” Illya added. “In all the commotion, I didn’t see where the girls went. Now I know.”
“Jennifer said they were going to tell the residents what’s really been going on here,” Napoleon explained. He followed Illya outside, while Wye and Ecks trailed behind.
It was indeed interesting, to see a swarm of people converging on the office. Most were holding flashlights as well as assorted objects from their homes as weapons.
“Here they are!” Jennifer called. She hurried up to Napoleon. “What happened?”
“The Council is mostly dead,” Napoleon reported, “save for Marietta here.”
Marietta stared, suddenly aware of the burden now placed upon her. “Oh.” A hand flew to the pearls at her neck. “I guess that means I’m now the leader here.”
“If you want to bother keepin’ the place open,” Wye said, helping Ecks into the back of the car.
“What happened?” Jennifer frowned, her hands going to her hips. “Is he hurt?”
“He sure is, from savin’ Solo,” Wye said. “But he’ll be alright with some good rest.”
“I hope so,” Jennifer said, but Wye really wasn’t sure she was genuinely concerned.
“We’re going to rescue the missing people,” Illya said. “We believe they are trapped underneath the homes in tunnels like the ones on the Council members’ street.”
That brought indignant cries from some of the nearest residents. “We’ll help too,” one older man vowed.
“We don’t know what else might be down there,” Illya cautioned. “There could be guards.”
“We’ll take our chances,” a woman replied, tossing a pink feather boa over her shoulder. “Once they hear the Council’s dead, maybe they’ll give up.”
“That’s possible too,” Napoleon agreed. “We’re going to start on our street, with our houses.”
Illya climbed in on the driver’s side and, once Napoleon was inside as well, they drove off. The residents began to spread out, running to every nearby street.
“This is the most activity we’ve seen all at once since we arrived,” Illya noted, making sure to stay out of their way.
“It just goes to show that they only needed a spark to really get them going,” Napoleon said. “Harvey and the Council were keeping them in line with fear.”
“Or with the promise of order, for those who actually liked livin’ here,” Wye said.
“That too,” Illya said.
Ecks stayed mostly silent, gazing out the window and resting against the backseat.
Wye turned to look at him after a moment. “Are you alright?” he asked low.
“Yes,” Ecks insisted. “I’m still not fully up to par, but I will be.”
“I hope so,” Wye said. “Seein’ you layin’ apparently dead once was more than enough. Twice is more than anyone should have to bear. And I doubt we would have even got you back without Kuryakin rewiring the gun and shooting a different beam of energy at you.”
“It’s so strange to think of him being the one to save me,” Ecks confessed. “Especially that he would even want to.”
“Like he said, he owed you for savin’ Solo,” Wye replied. “And Solo was grateful, too. He tried to help me do CPR on you while Kuryakin was fiddlin’ around with that gun. Makes sense to me, them being honorable U.N.C.L.E. agents and all.”
“True.” Ecks looked slightly uncomfortable. It was somewhat eerie to think of people working on his body while he was unaware of it, but it bothered him far more to think of Wye being put through the torment of fearing he was gone.
“Did you . . . uh . . . have any unusual sensations this time?” Wye wondered, lowering his voice even more. He knew Ecks wouldn’t particularly want anyone other than him to know about his past near-death experience.
“Not this time,” Ecks replied. “I didn’t sense anything. As far as I know, it was more like I was asleep.”
Wye sighed, heavily. “You were probably still clingin’ to life then,” he said, a touch of relief in his voice.
“I think so,” Ecks agreed. “Unless I just don’t remember this time.” He frowned at that thought.
“Well, nevermind,” Wye replied. “It really doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you’re alive and well.”
Ecks had to agree.
Illya pulled up in front of their house. “We’ll let you know if we find anyone,” he said.
“You do that,” Wye said. “But try not to make too much noise down there.”
“Oh, I doubt you’ll have to worry about that,” Napoleon said. “Those tunnels must be soundproof. Otherwise, people would have been hearing cries for help.”
“And who knows what else,” Illya added.
“You make a good point,” Wye conceded.
“That said, if we get into trouble, we may try to get your attention anyway,” Illya said flatly.
The group left the car and headed up the walkway. Unlocking the door, Wye let them inside. They proceeded down the hall together before separating at the bedrooms.
“Have fun people-hunting,” Ecks said.
“If we find them alive, it will be fun,” Napoleon returned.
He and Illya went into Ecks’ room and were soon in the secret room and tapping out the code that opened the tunnel door. As they went down the steps, Illya reached up to turn on the overhanging bulb.
“It’s a veritable maze down here,” he said.
“The scenery is rather dull,” Napoleon commented. “All the pathways look alike.”
“Nevermind that,” Illya retorted. “Just concentrate on the directions and hope that Mr. Wye had it right.”
“Left, right, left,” Napoleon intoned. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
It wasn’t. And when they had made the final turn and started walking up another corridor, a voice soon called out to them. “Hey, you’re not Harvey or any of those creeps.”
“You’re right,” Napoleon said, relief washing over him that at least one person was still alive. He went over to stand in front of a cell door, looking in at a tough man with a crew cut. “We’re the U.N.C.L.E.”
“U.N.C.L.E.?” The stranger looked surprised. “This place actually got the attention of a big outfit like yours?”
“Naturally,” said Illya. “When people start vanishing without a trace, the authorities do take notice.”
“Not to mention worried loved ones,” Napoleon added. “Do you know if all the missing people are alive down here?”
“I think so,” the man replied. “We were all being kept down here while the Council figured out what to do with us. They didn’t want a lot of bodies buried in the place. And I guess they figured they couldn’t just turn us loose, like I thought they were going to when I broke one of their stupid rules.” He gripped the bars. “Do you have the keys?”
“We have something,” Napoleon said. “You’d better stand away from the door.” Removing the heel of his shoe, he took out a clay-like substance and pushed it into the lock. When Illya attached and lit the short fuse, the small explosion blew open the door.
“Hey, great!” the guy cheered. “Come on, let’s go find everyone else! I’m Frank, by the way.”
“Hello, Frank,” Napoleon said.
Illya paused, not acknowledging the introduction. “Do you hear that?”
Napoleon and Frank paused too. “It sounds like a whole stampede of elephants,” the stranger said in surprise.
Napoleon nodded. “Aha. Then the residents did manage to find their way down here. They all decided to come look.”
“Then everyone gets out even faster!” Frank smirked. “Oh, by the way, what happened to Harvey and them?”
“They’re dead,” Napoleon replied.
“Good riddance,” was the grunted response.
“Just answer us one more thing,” Illya said as they headed up the hall to the next cell. “Did everyone who was told to leave just follow orders and go outside once they were down here? Didn’t anyone decide to explore instead?”
“Probably,” Frank shrugged. “Me, I just wanted to get out as fast as I could. They’re all a bunch of nuts! So I went to a hotel and thought I was home free, but then they were mixed up in the racket too. I got drugged and woke up here.”
By now the other residents were filling the corridors, whooping and yelling and breaking down cell doors and locks with anything they could—shovels, rakes, even pliers. The prisoners spilled into the corridors, joining the celebration and helping to liberate others.
Napoleon and Illya turned around, taking in the entire scene. “This is not quite what I had in mind,” Napoleon said.
“What did you have in mind?” Illya wondered.
“I was picturing weakened, starving people, certainly not spry and able to celebrate like this,” Napoleon said. “This is much better.”
Illya nodded. “I wonder if Martin Jensen has been found yet.”
“I’m sure Jennifer is turning this place upside-down and inside-out to find him,” Napoleon said.
“I wish her luck.” Illya backed up against the wall to let a stream of people go past. “I wonder if she will pay Mr. Ecks and Mr. Wye for their services if she is the one to actually find her brother.”
Napoleon joined him. “Oh, I think they’ve earned their wages, after everything they’ve been through. And they did assist in figuring out the code that brought us down here.”
“True,” Illya conceded.
Jennifer practically glided past them then. “Oh! Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin!” she exclaimed in joy. “This is my brother Martin.” She indicated a brown-haired man she had linked arms with.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. Jensen,” Napoleon said, shaking his hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Well, thank you,” he said in amazement. “Say, what’s going on around here anyway? It’s like a complete revolution!”
“I’d say that’s a perfectly accurate term for what’s happening,” Napoleon said.
“Where is Marietta?” Illya asked. “Wasn’t she with you?” He looked to Jennifer, who blinked in surprise.
“Why, yes. She was here just a few minutes ago. I guess now I don’t know where she went,” Jennifer shrugged. “Maybe upstairs through one of these tunnels. I can hardly believe all of this is down here!”
“It’s certainly a sight to see,” Napoleon agreed. “But what makes you think Marietta went upstairs?”
Jennifer looked baffled at Napoleon’s interest. “I don’t know. Maybe it was something she said. Yes, that was it—she mentioned going to check on Ecks and Wye, since Ecks was hurt. Maybe she wants to talk to them more about her sister.”
“Probably,” Napoleon agreed. “And I suppose we should head upstairs too.”
“If we can get to any stairs,” Illya grunted. “Mr. Wye’s crack about a procession through the bedroom wasn’t incorrect.”
“Only no one will be able to get out if we don’t show them the code,” Napoleon realized. “Let’s get to that.”
Summary: Finding the missing people at last.
Chapter Twelve
Illya sat back on the storage room floor, pulling a small notepad out of his pocket. “This is what I remember about the code next to the name at the top of the page, which was someone I didn’t recognize.” He scrawled a series of numbers and letters.
Napoleon, Wye, and Ecks—who was still recovering and had his head on Wye’s lap—studied it with him. “P233LRL?” Wye frowned. “It sounds like jibberish to me.”
“What if the ‘P’ stood for Panel or Passageway?” Illya offered. “Then what would you make of the numbers?”
“233 is our house number,” Ecks said.
“So the panel in our house? Then what?” Wye countered. “LRL . . . it sounds like directions on a map.”
“It could be left, right, left,” Napoleon agreed.
“We saw a maze of passageways on the Council members’ street,” Illya said. “What if the passageways for all the other houses don’t only lead outside?”
“You mean that perhaps everything connects and there’s a small-scale version of the Paris catacombs running under the entire community,” Napoleon realized.
“Exactly,” Illya nodded. “LRL could indeed be directions, perhaps to cells where specific people are being kept.”
“Then let’s start lookin’, shall we?” Wye smirked. “Or you two can.” He looked down at Ecks, who still seemed pale. “I’m not leavin’ this one. I’m sure you’re not ready to be up and around goin’ through panels and tunnels, are you, Ecks?”
Ecks sighed, closing his eyes. “I’d like to say Yes, but realistically I know I’d slow everyone down. I’ll be alright, though. You should help them, Wye; they’ll round everyone up much faster.”
“Nah, the girls’ll help them,” Wye answered. “If there’s a motorcar around here, we can just go back to the house and you can rest in my room so as not to disturb the procession through your wall.”
Ecks smirked slightly at that.
“We’ll make sure you get back to the house,” Napoleon promised. “You shouldn’t have to rest on the floor.” He paused. “And thank you for what you did. I didn’t have the chance to tell you before.”
Ecks looked somewhat embarrassed or awkward. “There wasn’t any point in letting Pea kill you,” he grunted.
Illya stood and went into the outer office. “There’s a car out front,” he said. “I should be able to hotwire it if the keys aren’t here.”
“A man of many talents, some dubious,” Napoleon said, folding his arms as he leaned on the doorway for a moment.
“You’re only jealous,” Illya returned. He picked up a set of keys left on the desk. “I’ll try these.” He headed outside.
Napoleon turned back to the storage room, watching as Wye got up and tried to carefully help Ecks stand. “Do you need any help?” he asked.
“We’ve got it,” Wye answered.
Ecks stumbled into him and reached up, steadying himself by gripping Wye’s shoulder. Then, slowly, he began to button his shirt.
Napoleon caught a last glimpse of the scar left by the knife Illya had plunged into him in Hyde Park. It was a chilling injury, especially since Napoleon knew how deadly wounds in that area could be. And it was strange to think that tonight, Illya had saved Ecks’ life instead.
Strange, but rather nice.
Illya came back to the office doorway just as Ecks finished and pulled his coat closer around him. “The keys work,” he announced. “The car is up and running.”
“Good,” Napoleon nodded, pleased.
“And there’s an interesting sight outside,” Illya added. “In all the commotion, I didn’t see where the girls went. Now I know.”
“Jennifer said they were going to tell the residents what’s really been going on here,” Napoleon explained. He followed Illya outside, while Wye and Ecks trailed behind.
It was indeed interesting, to see a swarm of people converging on the office. Most were holding flashlights as well as assorted objects from their homes as weapons.
“Here they are!” Jennifer called. She hurried up to Napoleon. “What happened?”
“The Council is mostly dead,” Napoleon reported, “save for Marietta here.”
Marietta stared, suddenly aware of the burden now placed upon her. “Oh.” A hand flew to the pearls at her neck. “I guess that means I’m now the leader here.”
“If you want to bother keepin’ the place open,” Wye said, helping Ecks into the back of the car.
“What happened?” Jennifer frowned, her hands going to her hips. “Is he hurt?”
“He sure is, from savin’ Solo,” Wye said. “But he’ll be alright with some good rest.”
“I hope so,” Jennifer said, but Wye really wasn’t sure she was genuinely concerned.
“We’re going to rescue the missing people,” Illya said. “We believe they are trapped underneath the homes in tunnels like the ones on the Council members’ street.”
That brought indignant cries from some of the nearest residents. “We’ll help too,” one older man vowed.
“We don’t know what else might be down there,” Illya cautioned. “There could be guards.”
“We’ll take our chances,” a woman replied, tossing a pink feather boa over her shoulder. “Once they hear the Council’s dead, maybe they’ll give up.”
“That’s possible too,” Napoleon agreed. “We’re going to start on our street, with our houses.”
Illya climbed in on the driver’s side and, once Napoleon was inside as well, they drove off. The residents began to spread out, running to every nearby street.
“This is the most activity we’ve seen all at once since we arrived,” Illya noted, making sure to stay out of their way.
“It just goes to show that they only needed a spark to really get them going,” Napoleon said. “Harvey and the Council were keeping them in line with fear.”
“Or with the promise of order, for those who actually liked livin’ here,” Wye said.
“That too,” Illya said.
Ecks stayed mostly silent, gazing out the window and resting against the backseat.
Wye turned to look at him after a moment. “Are you alright?” he asked low.
“Yes,” Ecks insisted. “I’m still not fully up to par, but I will be.”
“I hope so,” Wye said. “Seein’ you layin’ apparently dead once was more than enough. Twice is more than anyone should have to bear. And I doubt we would have even got you back without Kuryakin rewiring the gun and shooting a different beam of energy at you.”
“It’s so strange to think of him being the one to save me,” Ecks confessed. “Especially that he would even want to.”
“Like he said, he owed you for savin’ Solo,” Wye replied. “And Solo was grateful, too. He tried to help me do CPR on you while Kuryakin was fiddlin’ around with that gun. Makes sense to me, them being honorable U.N.C.L.E. agents and all.”
“True.” Ecks looked slightly uncomfortable. It was somewhat eerie to think of people working on his body while he was unaware of it, but it bothered him far more to think of Wye being put through the torment of fearing he was gone.
“Did you . . . uh . . . have any unusual sensations this time?” Wye wondered, lowering his voice even more. He knew Ecks wouldn’t particularly want anyone other than him to know about his past near-death experience.
“Not this time,” Ecks replied. “I didn’t sense anything. As far as I know, it was more like I was asleep.”
Wye sighed, heavily. “You were probably still clingin’ to life then,” he said, a touch of relief in his voice.
“I think so,” Ecks agreed. “Unless I just don’t remember this time.” He frowned at that thought.
“Well, nevermind,” Wye replied. “It really doesn’t matter. The important thing is that you’re alive and well.”
Ecks had to agree.
Illya pulled up in front of their house. “We’ll let you know if we find anyone,” he said.
“You do that,” Wye said. “But try not to make too much noise down there.”
“Oh, I doubt you’ll have to worry about that,” Napoleon said. “Those tunnels must be soundproof. Otherwise, people would have been hearing cries for help.”
“And who knows what else,” Illya added.
“You make a good point,” Wye conceded.
“That said, if we get into trouble, we may try to get your attention anyway,” Illya said flatly.
The group left the car and headed up the walkway. Unlocking the door, Wye let them inside. They proceeded down the hall together before separating at the bedrooms.
“Have fun people-hunting,” Ecks said.
“If we find them alive, it will be fun,” Napoleon returned.
He and Illya went into Ecks’ room and were soon in the secret room and tapping out the code that opened the tunnel door. As they went down the steps, Illya reached up to turn on the overhanging bulb.
“It’s a veritable maze down here,” he said.
“The scenery is rather dull,” Napoleon commented. “All the pathways look alike.”
“Nevermind that,” Illya retorted. “Just concentrate on the directions and hope that Mr. Wye had it right.”
“Left, right, left,” Napoleon intoned. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
It wasn’t. And when they had made the final turn and started walking up another corridor, a voice soon called out to them. “Hey, you’re not Harvey or any of those creeps.”
“You’re right,” Napoleon said, relief washing over him that at least one person was still alive. He went over to stand in front of a cell door, looking in at a tough man with a crew cut. “We’re the U.N.C.L.E.”
“U.N.C.L.E.?” The stranger looked surprised. “This place actually got the attention of a big outfit like yours?”
“Naturally,” said Illya. “When people start vanishing without a trace, the authorities do take notice.”
“Not to mention worried loved ones,” Napoleon added. “Do you know if all the missing people are alive down here?”
“I think so,” the man replied. “We were all being kept down here while the Council figured out what to do with us. They didn’t want a lot of bodies buried in the place. And I guess they figured they couldn’t just turn us loose, like I thought they were going to when I broke one of their stupid rules.” He gripped the bars. “Do you have the keys?”
“We have something,” Napoleon said. “You’d better stand away from the door.” Removing the heel of his shoe, he took out a clay-like substance and pushed it into the lock. When Illya attached and lit the short fuse, the small explosion blew open the door.
“Hey, great!” the guy cheered. “Come on, let’s go find everyone else! I’m Frank, by the way.”
“Hello, Frank,” Napoleon said.
Illya paused, not acknowledging the introduction. “Do you hear that?”
Napoleon and Frank paused too. “It sounds like a whole stampede of elephants,” the stranger said in surprise.
Napoleon nodded. “Aha. Then the residents did manage to find their way down here. They all decided to come look.”
“Then everyone gets out even faster!” Frank smirked. “Oh, by the way, what happened to Harvey and them?”
“They’re dead,” Napoleon replied.
“Good riddance,” was the grunted response.
“Just answer us one more thing,” Illya said as they headed up the hall to the next cell. “Did everyone who was told to leave just follow orders and go outside once they were down here? Didn’t anyone decide to explore instead?”
“Probably,” Frank shrugged. “Me, I just wanted to get out as fast as I could. They’re all a bunch of nuts! So I went to a hotel and thought I was home free, but then they were mixed up in the racket too. I got drugged and woke up here.”
By now the other residents were filling the corridors, whooping and yelling and breaking down cell doors and locks with anything they could—shovels, rakes, even pliers. The prisoners spilled into the corridors, joining the celebration and helping to liberate others.
Napoleon and Illya turned around, taking in the entire scene. “This is not quite what I had in mind,” Napoleon said.
“What did you have in mind?” Illya wondered.
“I was picturing weakened, starving people, certainly not spry and able to celebrate like this,” Napoleon said. “This is much better.”
Illya nodded. “I wonder if Martin Jensen has been found yet.”
“I’m sure Jennifer is turning this place upside-down and inside-out to find him,” Napoleon said.
“I wish her luck.” Illya backed up against the wall to let a stream of people go past. “I wonder if she will pay Mr. Ecks and Mr. Wye for their services if she is the one to actually find her brother.”
Napoleon joined him. “Oh, I think they’ve earned their wages, after everything they’ve been through. And they did assist in figuring out the code that brought us down here.”
“True,” Illya conceded.
Jennifer practically glided past them then. “Oh! Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin!” she exclaimed in joy. “This is my brother Martin.” She indicated a brown-haired man she had linked arms with.
“It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. Jensen,” Napoleon said, shaking his hand. “We’ve heard so much about you.”
“Well, thank you,” he said in amazement. “Say, what’s going on around here anyway? It’s like a complete revolution!”
“I’d say that’s a perfectly accurate term for what’s happening,” Napoleon said.
“Where is Marietta?” Illya asked. “Wasn’t she with you?” He looked to Jennifer, who blinked in surprise.
“Why, yes. She was here just a few minutes ago. I guess now I don’t know where she went,” Jennifer shrugged. “Maybe upstairs through one of these tunnels. I can hardly believe all of this is down here!”
“It’s certainly a sight to see,” Napoleon agreed. “But what makes you think Marietta went upstairs?”
Jennifer looked baffled at Napoleon’s interest. “I don’t know. Maybe it was something she said. Yes, that was it—she mentioned going to check on Ecks and Wye, since Ecks was hurt. Maybe she wants to talk to them more about her sister.”
“Probably,” Napoleon agreed. “And I suppose we should head upstairs too.”
“If we can get to any stairs,” Illya grunted. “Mr. Wye’s crack about a procession through the bedroom wasn’t incorrect.”
“Only no one will be able to get out if we don’t show them the code,” Napoleon realized. “Let’s get to that.”
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Date: 2015-07-16 11:14 pm (UTC)