The Boo from UNCLE - Chapter 7

[leethet.livejournal.com]

Alexander Waverly awoke with a start to the rattle of chains. He blinked; his eyes slowly adjusted to take in the sort of dank, stony dungeon usually associated with Victorian melodrama. Torches burned steadily in the corridor outside his gated cell. He sat up and affirmed that the chains rattling were on his wrists and ankles; not painful, but secure. He was still in his pyjamas, barefooted, and though he was cold and his head ached, he seemed uninjured. They had not, apparently, searched him or removed anything from his person.
Smiling inwardly, he made himself relatively comfortable on the cot which was the only furniture in the cell. He scanned the walls and corners for the expected closed-circuit camera, and, when he located it, peered into it and declaimed:
“I demand to know who has brought me here, and for what purpose.”
In a few minutes a small woman in a white coat, flanked by two hulks in black, appeared at the door to Waverly’s cell.
It took Waverly a moment to identify the woman.
“Dr … Egret, if I remember correctly?”
She smiled. “Mr Waverly. Head of UNCLE. Cut off the head, and the body dies.”
“That may be true of an animal,” Waverly observed drily. “UNCLE is hardier than that.”
“We’ll take the chance. First, of course, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
“You’ll find me singularly uninformative.”
“Well, it won’t be me asking,” she said, indicating the two bruisers at her back. “These gentlemen are surprisingly well-trained in the art of persuasion. When they’re finished with you, we’ll eliminate what’s left and THRUSH will sweep away the remains of UNCLE New York.”
“Better organizations than THRUSH have tried,” Waverly said. “In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn my people are triangulating upon your position even as we speak.” He’d activated the tracer embedded in his school ring, of course, the moment he’d awakened.
“It would surprise me a great deal,” Egret said with a wide, predatory grin. “Just now they’re attending to other concerns. Such as a complete power failure, and a spectral haunting on a massive scale.”
Waverly took this in in a flash, though he let none of what he was thinking show. Damn and drat. Until the power was back up at UNCLE no one there would receive his signal.
~*~*~
As Napoleon, Illya and the others stood frozen, a low gloating laugh floated through the control room, and the very air seemed to take on a subtle greenish glow.
Napoleon found he could breathe and move a little, as if he were fighting against a strong current or wind. He put his back into it and tried to move his body toward the open control room door. Illya and the others, taking his hint, leaned against the mysterious force as well.
The evil laugh returned and the door slid shut.
“Don’t bother, Mr. Solo,” came a voice as familiar as a Saturday matinee horror film. “I and my associates have control over this facility, and your fate. Complete control.”
Napoleon glanced at Illya. The Russian’s scowl told Solo the voice was familiar to him too.
Against the closed door as against a film screen, a wavering image took shape – a tall black haired man, cloaked in black, his posture dramatic and proud.
“Now I shall have my vengeance – I and many of the others you have wronged unto death. Our masked avenger has taken your leader, and we shall deal with the rest of you.”
“Count Zark?” Illya straightened up, with an effort, and Zark sneered at him.
“Indeed, Mr Kuryakin. And I have an associate here with me who is most anxious to speak to you particularly.” He waved an arm and beside him appeared a tall, shapely blonde woman, her face pale, her expression baleful. Her eyes focused laserlike hatred upon Illya.
Napoleon groaned inwardly. “Nazarone.” Are we going to have to face the spirits of every foe we’ve dispatched? This will be one long night.
Illya confronted the spirits with … well, spirit, Napoleon thought. “I don’t believe in ghosts. There is some sort of electrical field in this room, and I think you are part of it.”
“What you think,” Nazarone sneered, “means nothing to me. I have longed for my time of vengeance against you. You will suffer a thousandfold what I suffered.”
Zark chuckled. “The lady remembers you with great fondness, I see. As do I. Our masked avenger has brought us back from the other world to earn our vengeance, Kuryakin. You and Solo – and the rest of UNCLE – shall not survive this night.”
“Who is this masked avenger of which you speak so melodramatically?” Napoleon asked. Even as he spoke he was fighting the strange force holding him in place. If Illya was right – and he usually was – this electrical field had to be generated from something and someone corporeal.
“Mask, mask,” Illya muttered. “Beldon said something about that too. What does the word mean to you, Napoleon?”
Napoleon considered. George had managed to work his way between the two agents and the ladies – very gentlemanly, even if there wasn’t really much he, or any of them, could do to protect them at the moment.
The light went on – figuratively – for Napoleon. “Egret.”
Zark’s grin broadened.
“Never mind about that,” Nazarone said, inching sinuously forward, long-nailed hands shaped into claws as she reached for Illya. “Let me at him.”
Napoleon heard a faint click, then a hum. The greenish glow flickered.
Zark and Nazarone flickered.
Then the glow – and the ghosts – vanished.
Napoleon nearly fell over as the weird resistance field released its hold. He heard the gasps of the others, then a pool of light appeared as Illya flicked on a flashlight. It scanned the room, hit Napoleon, and Illya moved to him quickly.
“Napoleon,” Illya hissed, “I’m more sure than ever this is some kind of electrical field being generated by someone who is emphatically not a ghost.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Illya slipped a small boxy device from his pocket. “This is a portable EMC generator we have been working on in Section 7. I was able to turn it on – though it burned out immediately.”
“Ah.” Napoleon raised a brow. “Ha.”
“Well, it’s experimental. But I’m sure it was what dissipated that force field that was holding us. And the alleged ghosts.” He nodded at the door. “We need to get the power back on. The interference fields our anti-monitoring machines generate should be enough to stifle these ghostly visitors permanently.”
“Let’s go.” Napoleon looked at George. “Get the ladies back to the cafeteria and stay there. We’re going to try to get the power back on.”

Comments

[yumyumpm.livejournal.com]

Let's see we've seen Riley, Ecks, Nexor, Beldon,Nazorone, Zark and a live Dr. Egret. You've managed to advance things yet leave us in suspense. Good job.