B Is For Bogus - ABC Affair
Jun. 9th, 2017 12:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
glenmered posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
section7mfuBwaahaahahahaa...
"Did you hear that?" Napoleon looked around suspiciously as he prodded his partner for a positive response to his question. Illya was standing as still as a statue, his pale complexion a few shades lighter than normal.
"I did. Why do these THRUSH have to be so bizarre? Why not a good old fashioned villain who simply commits a crime and then surrenders amidst a hail of gunfire? Why the special effects?" The Russian was not amused, nor was he at ease among the strange props that lined the room in which the two agents found themselves.
Bwahahahaha...
"Okay, that's enough of the nonsense...' Napoleon pulled out his Special and took aim at what he suspected was the source of the eerie sounds.
"One shot, one down. What do you say Illya?" And with that he fired at the reflection of a dark figure that had emerged from behind a colorful paper mache' flamingo. The flamingo waivered slightly as the dart whizzed past and struck its mark. A man in dark clothing and a hooded cape fell headlong into the mirror that had betrayed him. Napoleon and Illya ran to the spot, unwilling to allow this one to get away.
"What do we have here, hmmm?" Napoleon pulled back the hood and was surprised at the face revealed. Illya recognized him as well, swearing silently in Russian as he pulled the man up and onto his feet.
"Hector Billings? What are you doing here, and how did you get involved with THRUSH?" It was Napoleon asking the questions, but Billings kept his eye on the blond as he cowered now before the two men he had taunted previously. Hector worked in the commisary as a line cook. This had to be a mistake.
''Mr. Solo, you can do whatever you want to me. I am a harbinger of.. uh... harbinger of ... " The sleep dart had done its work, leaving nothing to do but get Hector back to Headquarters.
A full medical exam uncovered drugs in Hector's system other than the sedative from the dart. He had gone on one trip too many, and with all the talk of THRUSH and other criminals on UNCLE's radar, his foray into their world had been the result of his latest round of hallucinogens. This episode would lead to more stringent drug testing for UNCLE employees, and a medical leave of absence for Mr. Billings. No harm had been done, merely the empty threat that had led Solo and Kuryakin to the abandoned Fun House where they finally caught Doctor Harm.
"I wonder where he came up with that name?" Napoleon was still puzzling over the strange encounter with their deranged cook. Illya merely chalked it up to the current cultural influences and a young man's need to find a place of importance.
'' I suppose he felt invisible at his job, behind the scenes as it were. It was the wrong direction, obviously, but with time he may see the cause of his behavior and turn around, do something meaningful." Napoleon just stared at his partner, almost unbelieving at the philosophic turn of things, especially from the taciturn Russian.
"Yeah, well... Listen, are you hungry?"
"Famished."
"Let's go eat, my treat."
That usually solved everything.
"Did you hear that?" Napoleon looked around suspiciously as he prodded his partner for a positive response to his question. Illya was standing as still as a statue, his pale complexion a few shades lighter than normal.
"I did. Why do these THRUSH have to be so bizarre? Why not a good old fashioned villain who simply commits a crime and then surrenders amidst a hail of gunfire? Why the special effects?" The Russian was not amused, nor was he at ease among the strange props that lined the room in which the two agents found themselves.
Bwahahahaha...
"Okay, that's enough of the nonsense...' Napoleon pulled out his Special and took aim at what he suspected was the source of the eerie sounds.
"One shot, one down. What do you say Illya?" And with that he fired at the reflection of a dark figure that had emerged from behind a colorful paper mache' flamingo. The flamingo waivered slightly as the dart whizzed past and struck its mark. A man in dark clothing and a hooded cape fell headlong into the mirror that had betrayed him. Napoleon and Illya ran to the spot, unwilling to allow this one to get away.
"What do we have here, hmmm?" Napoleon pulled back the hood and was surprised at the face revealed. Illya recognized him as well, swearing silently in Russian as he pulled the man up and onto his feet.
"Hector Billings? What are you doing here, and how did you get involved with THRUSH?" It was Napoleon asking the questions, but Billings kept his eye on the blond as he cowered now before the two men he had taunted previously. Hector worked in the commisary as a line cook. This had to be a mistake.
''Mr. Solo, you can do whatever you want to me. I am a harbinger of.. uh... harbinger of ... " The sleep dart had done its work, leaving nothing to do but get Hector back to Headquarters.
A full medical exam uncovered drugs in Hector's system other than the sedative from the dart. He had gone on one trip too many, and with all the talk of THRUSH and other criminals on UNCLE's radar, his foray into their world had been the result of his latest round of hallucinogens. This episode would lead to more stringent drug testing for UNCLE employees, and a medical leave of absence for Mr. Billings. No harm had been done, merely the empty threat that had led Solo and Kuryakin to the abandoned Fun House where they finally caught Doctor Harm.
"I wonder where he came up with that name?" Napoleon was still puzzling over the strange encounter with their deranged cook. Illya merely chalked it up to the current cultural influences and a young man's need to find a place of importance.
'' I suppose he felt invisible at his job, behind the scenes as it were. It was the wrong direction, obviously, but with time he may see the cause of his behavior and turn around, do something meaningful." Napoleon just stared at his partner, almost unbelieving at the philosophic turn of things, especially from the taciturn Russian.
"Yeah, well... Listen, are you hungry?"
"Famished."
"Let's go eat, my treat."
That usually solved everything.
no subject
Date: 2017-06-09 11:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-09 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-06-09 05:17 pm (UTC)Thank you for a delightful fic.
no subject
Date: 2017-06-09 09:42 pm (UTC)