section7mfu | Spring Round Robin _ The You Don't Have A Partner Affair

The You Don't Have A Partner Affair - Chapter 1

Chapter 2

The initial shock of his conversation with Waverly settled into a fierce determination to solve the mystery of his missing partner and why his boss was feigning ignorance of his existence. Napoleon had to retrace their steps, examine the room and …

“Wow Solo, you must have had too much of whatever THRUSH poured into you.” Aloud, it sounded like something a man might say when faced with a dilemma such as this. Silently, Napoleon began to formulate a scenario in which both he and Illya were being manipulated into thinking they were each out of their minds.

Still not fully dressed, Napoleon went into the bathroom and shut the door. He assumed that if this were some sort of orchestrated deception, there might be cameras in the room. He hoped that didn’t include the bathroom, but his actions were careful nonetheless, accepting that anyone who would go this far might be without any regard for his privacy.

Still holding the communicator, his first instinct was that Waverly was also being controlled, but that gave way to something less dire than infiltrating UNCLE HQ. Solo had a pen communicator, and Waverly, or whoever that man was, had contacted him first. It was a tactic, to set a type of parameter to this little scheme. Napoleon began to examine the slender instrument, looking for something unique to his communicator, thanks to having dropped it near a vat of acid.

There was no sign of the slight discoloration left by that encounter. This was not his communicator. This situation was… What was it? A trap, a kidnapping…

And where was Illya?

:~:

There were flaws in the subterfuge, little touches that screamed spy craft rather than THRUSH. The attempt to disorient him, and probably Napoleon as well, were elements that spoke to Illya as tactics of the KGB or CIA. Because it was slightly less brutal, Illya assumed CIA.

One thing that convinced him it wasn’t THRUSH was the lack of symptoms he normally suffered from their drugs and serums. There was no hangover, no headache. Illya ran his fingers through his hair, finger combing it as he might normally do.

He felt it, just below the nape. It was a small prick in his skin, the point of injection. Drugs without a reaction. Not THRUSH.

But why the ruse? Why not just take him? It was not like the CIA to be subtle where he was concerned. They were, in most cases, openly hostile and mistrustful of him, even with Waverly’s endorsement.

And, what about Waverly? That conversation must not have been with his superior, but an imposter. He picked up the communicator and called the man.

“Sir, Kuryakin here…’ Illya launched into a conversation in Russian, expecting a response in kind. Waverly answered the query, in perfect Russian.

“Spacibo” Illya had his answer. Waverly didn’t speak Russian.

~:~

Napoleon had to think. Not Waverly, not THRUSH, he was certain of it. And if he was in the same motel room, and all of them looked alike, perhaps Illya was in one that looked identical to his.

Who was behind this?

Last night they had been only a few hours north of the City. Legally, the CIA didn’t have jurisdiction in this country. But the room was the same, so maybe it was KGB. Maybe they wanted Illya back and couldn’t get to him without…

No, that didn’t make any sense.

“What the hell?” He said it aloud, not bothering to hide his frustration. As if on cue, the communicator began to trill.

“Solo here.” He heard the pause, like someone preparing to speak.

“Mr. Solo, do you still have intentions to remain in your present location?’’ Napoleon listened intently, his attention to detail more important than ever. What did hear in this man’s voice?

“Ah, yes sir, if that’s all right with you.' Napoleon had an idea...

"By the way, did you get the report back on Agent Allen’s encounter with, umm… I forget the THRUSH agent’s name.” He needed to keep the man talking, to allow a better scope of comparison.

The other man hesitated, something that might have been a Waverly characteristic.

“Ahh, yes Mister Solo, I have it in front of me. But that is not your concern at the moment. I am sending an escort to deliver you back to Headquarters.” Napoleon straightened up at that.

“Sir? Why do I need an escort?” Play along, see where it leads.

“I do not intend to explain myself. Just be ready in an hour. Waverly out.”

Napoleon closed the cap on his communicator. He had his answer. There was no Agent Allen. The other man was an imposter.

Illya had to be close by. He and his partner thought alike, and no doubt the Russian was fully aware by now that this was all an elaborate scheme, but to what end?

The plan was simple: find Illya.

Spring Round Robin _ The You Don't Have A Partner Affair _ Chapter 2

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