section7mfu | The Eyes Have It - Picfic (two days late)

“Have you heard the news?”

Illya look up from his typewriter. He could tell by the grim expression on his partner’s face that the news he had wasn’t good.

“What’s happened?”

“The body of Jim Barton was fished out of the Potomac this morning,” Napoleon told him.

Illya frowned. Barton was a good agent, who had been missing for two days. When contact with an agent was lost, the others always told themselves it was because he was simply unable to be contacted, or to make contact. They never believed anyone dead until proved otherwise.

“I take it his cover was blown,” Illya commented. “Did he manage to get any information out to us?”

“No,” Solo replied. “Waverly is calling a meeting tomorrow afternoon to discuss a new strategy.”

Barton had been undercover with THRUSH, in one of their research and development labs, trying to get an insight on the latest in THRUSH technology. He’d been there for seven days before contact was lost, but had been unable to glean anything useful.

“Did he have any family?” asked Illya.

“No. His parents are both dead and he was an only child,” Solo replied. “It’ll be another U.N.C.L.E. funeral. Anyway, I’m done for the day. Fancy a drink?”

Illya looked down at his report and decided it could wait.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The following morning, Napoleon was exceedingly grateful that he had the morning off. As usual when he and Illya went out for a drink, it had turned into a competition, which he had lost. He vowed that he would one day learn how the small statured man could drink so much more than him. Groaning loudly, as his pounding head reminded him of the previous evening, Napoleon glanced over to his bedside clock. He was very surprised to see that it was already 11:30. Illya would be arriving any minute to pick him up. Sure enough, he heard his partner coming into the apartment, and calling out his name.

“I’ll be right out,” he called, and immediately regretted the volume.

Napoleon rolled out of bed and, not bothering to put his robe on over his pyjamas, he went to join Illya.

He found him in the kitchen making coffee. Annoyingly, he looked as fresh as a daisy.

“Good morning, Napoleon,” the Russian greeted, in a deliberately cheery tone. “I’ve brought up your mail.”

Solo picked up the pile of letters and shuffled through them. One caught his attention immediately, as it was addressed to Nathaniel Singleton. This was a pseudonym Napoleon often used, but any mail for that name went straight to special address owned by U.N.C.L.E. He opened it and was surprised to find a photograph of the smiling face of Jim Barton. Turning it over, he found a short note.

Hi,

I’ll be going away for some time. Look into my eyes and you will see why.

Jim

“What do you make of this?” he asked Illya, handing him the photograph.

Illya fished a small magnifying glass from his pocket and peered closely at the image.

“The pupil of the left eye looks a strange,” he finally said. “I think something is coded into the image. Remember how THRUSH coded their five year plan into the pattern of that dress?”

Napoleon suddenly felt very sober.

“Give me ten minutes to get ready. We need to get this to HQ.”

………………………………………………………………………………

Several hours later, Solo ad Kuryakin were summoned to Mr Waverly’s office. He gestured for them to sit down before he turned the lights off, and switched on the projector. A super-enlarged version of the left eye in the photograph was presented to them. At this size it was clear to see the unnatural pattern of the iris.

“It would seem that Mr Barton used THRUSH’s own technology to create this image,” he informed the two men. “Whilst it gives us no information on any technologies in development, it does give us the names and addresses of several key operatives.”

“Surely, given that they discovered him, the operatives mentioned will have moved elsewhere by now.”

“We’re working on the assumption that they only discovered who he was, and not what he managed to do,” Waverly explained. “We’ll be putting long term surveillance on all of the addresses and the operatives. In the meantime I want you to start building dossiers on each operative. Let’s take full advantage of Mr Barton’s gift to us.”

“Yes Sir,” both agents replied.