The Boo From U.N.C.L.E.- Chapter 5

[avery11.livejournal.com]

Genre: Gen
Prompt: "Wickedness comes in all shapes and forms."

The Boo From UNCLE

Chapter 5

Napoleon rocked back in his chair, affecting a posture of casual interest. Beneath the table, his nimble fingers slipped the safety off his Walther. “Well, well, as I live and breathe. Look, Illya, it's Harry Beldon.”

“'Live and breathe?'” The apparition laughed. “Not for long, Mr. Solo. I promise you, not for long.”

“We'll see about that.”

Illya scowled at the traitor who had very nearly taken down UNCLE's Section I. “He doesn't look any better dead than he did alive.”

Another laugh. “Appearances can be deceiving, Mr. Kuryakin. In point of fact, you're looking rather pale yourself.” It floated toward the table, and Illya fought back a wave of nausea. Its erratic, swirling insubstantiality, its ghoulish green color – everything about the spectre screamed evil incarnate.

“That's far enough.” Six agents raised their weapons.

“Foolish mortals! As though your bullets could harm me! I'm incorporeal, or hadn't you noticed?”

Illya snorted. “You are dead, or hadn't you noticed?”

“And I have you to thank for that, Mr. Kuryakin. It was your bullet that killed me – don't think for a moment that I've forgotten.”

“As I recall, you blew yourself up with a hand grenade.”

“Don't quibble!” For a moment, the bilious green fog surrounding Beldon grew dark and threatening. The air crackled with unexpressed energy. The fluorescent lightbulbs in the ceiling exploded, one by one, throwing the room into darkness. Napoleon and Illya leaped to their feet, poised for battle.

The moment passed. “No hard feelings,” it declared affably as the emergency backup lighting kicked in. “Actually, I'm eternally grateful. Dying is the best thing that's ever happened to me."

“I couldn't agree more.”

Beldon's arms, spread wide as vulture's wings, embraced the room. Its fur coat fluttered in the nonexistent breeze. ”There's incredible power in the realms beyond the veil! Intoxicating, and it's all mine! I feel wonderful! Unshackled! Invincible!”

Napleon nodded imperceptibly to George, who began taking covert readings of the apparition's energy levels. “No more stalling, Beldon. To what do we owe the dubious pleasure of your company?”

Beldon's grin seemed to expand. His eyes – if they could be called eyes – glittered with malevolence. “Come, come now, Mr. Solo. Haven't you guessed?”

Napoleon shrugged.

“No? What about you, Mr. Kuryakin? Surely a scientist of your caliber must have formed a hypothesis or two?”

Illya stared at the apparition in stony silence.

“We don't have time to play Twenty Questions,” Napoleon remarked smoothly. “Why don't you fill us in?”

“Certainly, certainly. Always happy to help out a colleague.” It cocked its head. “That's what we are, you know. Colleagues.”

“What we are is your enemy,” Illya snapped. “What you are is dead.”

“No need for open hostilities, Mr. Kuryakin – at least, not yet.” The apparation drifted closer. “You've seen Riley and Mr. Ecks and dear old Nestor passing through the veil into your world. Aren't you curious as to why I've sent them there?”

“You sent them?”

“Naturally.”

Beldon – or whatever the thing was – radiated a staggering sense of entitlement, a monstrous, overweaning ego. Napoleon wondered how they could use that flaw to their advantage. “But why send them? To frighten us? You'll find UNCLE personnel don't scare easily.”

It shook its head. “I'd forgotten how plodding you humans are. How limited your thinking.”

“Meaning?”

“Chyort!” Illya gasped. “It was a distraction!”

“Very good, Mr. Kuryakin. There's hope for you yet – although not much.”

Fear worried its way down Napoleon's spine. “Illya?”

“Beldon sent those other spirits to divert our attention – to distract us from his true purpose.”

Napoleon's eyes widened as understanding set in. “So while we were out chasing green blobs through gunmetal halls, he was – what?”

Illya glared at the apparition. "Perhaps Harry will tell us, if we ask very nicely."

Beldon's smile was chilling. “When was the last time any of you saw Alexander Waverly?”

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