section7mfu | Need to Know - Short Affair

Prompts – Whip/Pink
Word Count (approx.) – 543

When Illya had failed to turn up at their rendezvous, after the conclusion of their latest assignment, Napoleon had given him an hour before he went looking. I hadn’t taken long to find the missing man. He was still in the building he was supposed to have taken the THRUSH research files from. It had been discovered that the Hierarchy were developing a new type of weapon and U.N.C.L.E. needed to know how to combat it. Napoleon located his partner, about to be interrogated, in the basement. He was hanging by his wrists from the pipes, and was stripped to the waist.

“You have two choices,” stated the man in front of Illya, “Tell me what I want to know now, or I shall whip it out of you.”

He unfurled the coiled bullwhip in his right hand and struck his captive across the chest. Illya gasped, twisting in his chains. The skin didn’t break, but it did turned a vivid shade of pink.

“That was a taster of what you will get if you don’t comply,” the man, known as Jack Ryman, continued.

“Why the whip?”

The question was so unexpected, that Ryman actually took a step back. Even Napoleon, who had been about to dart the man, held back on his shot.

“What do you mean?” Ryman demanded.

“I know from personal experience that THRUSH has many methods of interrogation at its disposal,” Illya explained, trying to ignore the burning in his shoulders. “Most of them are quicker and more sophisticated than the whip.”

From his position at the top of the basement stairs, Napoleon had to draw on every ounce of willpower to stop himself from asking Illya what he thought he was doing. The Russian seemed to be about to recommend better techniques to break him.

“It’s such a brutal instrument,” Illya went on. “Yet, despite the physical effort needed by the wielder, Thrushies of your ilk seem to prefer it. Is it a fetish?”

Solo rolled his eyes. One day, Illya was going to learn that goading a torturer was not a great idea. Although, he doubted it would be any time soon.

“Just what are you accusing me of?” Ryman bellowed, bringing the whip back for another blow.

Napoleon didn’t wait any longer, and darted him into a deep sleep. As Ryman fell, Solo descended the stairs and stood, with his arms folded in front of his partner.

“Are you going to help me down?” Illya asked after several silent seconds.

“Are you going to tell me what that was about?” Napoleon countered. “Why was it so important to know why he used a whip, and not something else?”

“It’s something which has always intrigued me,” the Russian told him. “With all the drugs, electrical devices and psychological methods they could use, why do so many of them resort to whipping?”

Releasing Illya’s wrists, Napoleon quickly located his shirt, jacket and weapon, and handed them to him.

“Next time you get the urge to question a Thrushie, Tovarisch, make sure it is you who has him captive. Doing it this way around will only get you beaten to a pulp.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Illya quipped, as he headed up the stairs and out the door.