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In case you missed the beginning, it started here.
~~~~~:
It was another twenty-four hours before the two partners were able to revisit the subject of Illya’s double. The Russian agent had been called into action once more, tailing the THRUSH courier until late in the evening. He had almost forgotten about the man in the pub until he awoke from a disturbing dream that had him meeting the man face to face, only to find that they both looked like Louie, the courier from THRUSH.
Napoleon hadn’t forgotten about Illya’s story of a look a like in the pub, but it was entirely possible that the resemblance was less than Illya imagined it to be. When he suggested this to his friend, the returning silence was deafening.
“Look Illya, I’ll go along with this idea of you having a double, but maybe we should go to Mr. Waverly with this before taking any action.
As Illya contemplated what type of response to give his friend, both of their communicators began to warble a familiar tune.
“It’s your turn.”
Napoleon feigned annoyance as he answered his.
“Solo here, along with Mr. Kuryakin.”
“Oh, I thought perhaps Illy…Mr. Kuryakin was alone.’
Illya and Napoleon exchanged puzzled expressions.
“What’s up … Sally?”
Illya silently mouthed the name with an implied question mark.
“Is Mr. Kuryakin able to speak, Mr. Solo?”
Illya took the pen like implement from Napoleon’s hand.
“Sally, this is Mr. Kuryakin. Is there a problem?”
The pause was full of questions on both ends of the conversation.
“Uh… well, you see … Communications picked up some chatter on a THRUSH channel, and it seemed to … well it indicated that you, or… at least they said the name Kuryakin … You’re at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. And it doesn’t look too good for you at the moment.”
Now Napoleon was interested.
“Sally, what exactly was said? And what do you mean by things not looking good for Illya?”
Another pause was endured.
“Let me read the transcript… hold on. Okay, here it is:
I have the Russian… Yeah, the little blond guy…”
Illya raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Umm… shall I go on?”
“Yes Sally, please continue.”
“You want me to what? It’ll make a mess in here but, whatever you say mister…
That’s where they lost the channel.”
“Thank you Sally, and you can assure everyone that Mr. Kuryakin is quite safe and he’s with me. Okay?”
“Yes Mr. Solo. I’ll send word back to Communications. Is there anything you want me to do?”
Illya shook his head, confirming to Napoleon that this would be their operation.
“We’ll be heading for the museum, so if you’ll please let Mr. Waverly know our destination, that will be all. Solo out.”
Napoleon looked at his partner with an intense scrutiny. Was it possible that there really was another Illya out there?
“Well tovarisch, I say we take a trip down to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and see if we can find your man.”
“He isn’t my man, Napoleon. He is simply a man who looks like me.”
The hum of irritation was very close to the surface now.
“Are you sure it isn’t the other way around? Perhaps you look like him.”
“Very funny. At least we know it isn’t a THRUSH plot, like the incident with your manufactured double.’
Illya paused in his stride towards the office door. His shoulders slumped slightly as he put his hand on the wall to steady himself.
“Napoleon, I do not have a twin. How…?”
As he came to stand beside his friend, the American slapped Illya on the back in an effort to lighten the sudden mood change.
“I don’t know, and we’re not likely to if we don’t get over to the Met and find this … look-a-like of yours.”
“Doppelgänger.”
Napoleon closed the office door and stood staring at Illya, his thoughts going now in a million different directions.
“What? A dopple… an evil twin? Illya, don’t go all Russian on me. This is perhaps extraordinary, but in no way is this some ghostly apparition sent to … you know. It isn’t a doppelganger. This is just a man who looks like you.”
That made the blond smile.
“Well, at least we got that straight. Let us go, my friend. The hunt is on.”