"Inquisitio Veritatis- to seek the truth" chapter 12. The conclusion.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

As Illya peered round the door frame he observed a rather large man standing there who he recognized as a member of Section V Security. Apparently he’d been dispatched there to keep watch by Waverly.

“Umm, hi there Artie,”Illya said sheepishly as he stared up at the man’s face. He was at least six foot five and towered over the Russian.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in bed Mister Kuryakin?”

“Yes, you are absolutely right, and that is where I am going right this second.”

“Good.”

The man clasped his hands in front of himself with a smile as he was well aware of how wiley Kuryakin and Solo could be when it came to escaping from the Medical Suite.

He admired them for their resourcefulness, but he’d been tasked with keeping them in their room and they weren’t going to get by him at all. Just like they, he had a job to do as well.

Illya turned to face his partner, raising his arms as he shrugged. His facial expression said it all.

“I get it,” Napoleon sighed,” we’re stuck for the duration. Gee, I wonder if we can get a take out order delivered from Changs? You hungry tovarish?”

They were both accustomed to how bad the food could be when you were confined to Medical, especially if it included a bowl of that noxious green jello. It was a separate menu from the daily one posted in the Commissary; those meals were prepared separately according to the physician’s request.  Cookie had a bit of difficulty adjusting his recipes, as well as making changes to them as he was accustomed to making food for large groups of people, which was his past experience in the army.

The end result were meals that were barely palatable to those who were patients in Medical.

“Napoleon, when am I never not hungry?” Illya answered his partner’s question. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.  Though food was often on his mind, he wanted to get out of here even more.

“Say did you use a double negative?” Solo grinned, finally getting in a jab for all the times his partner had corrected his grammar.

“Very funny,” Illya climbed back into his bed, and rolling to his side, he intended to go to sleep as he doubted there’d be any takeout from Chang’s forthcoming; that was unless Napoleon convinced one of the nurses to pick up the food for them. Until such time when and if it could be done, it was better just to catch up on his sleep.

There was a knock at the door and a beautiful red haired nurse appeared with a tray in her hands.

“Why hello there,” Napoleon instantly turned on the charm.

“Hello there yourself. I’m Nurse Samantha Reynolds.”

“You’re new aren’t you?”

“Yes I am. Now I have medication for you ordered by the doctor. Just a mild sedative to get you to sleep; he said you and your partner were a bit on the restless side.”

“Samantha, if I may call you that? Before you administer the sedatives, I wonder if you could do a favor for me. We’re very hungry as we didn’t get to eat after a tedious and prolonged interrogation earlier today. Do you think you could get us some food, say from…”

“Oh sure, I’ll have a menu sent up from the Commissary with what you’re allowed to eat.”

Napoleon continued to croon to her. “The food here doesn’t agree with either of us and you wouldn’t want us to become ill, would you?”

He’d crept out of bed, moving towards her. His voice was so entrancing, almost hypnotizing. 

“Why no, of course not.” "Then again, I'd need your special care, if-I-did..." He could just feel Illya rolling his eyes.

Napoleon made his move, leaning in to kiss her and she was instantly his. As he held her in his embrace, he managed to slip the syringe from her hand. He was just about to inject her when a voice drew his attention and he looked up with one eye while still kissing the woman.

“Oh no you don’t Mister Solo,” it was Artie. “Put down the needle and let the nice Nurse do her job, otherwise I’ll have to restrain you and your partner in straight jackets.”

Illya spoke up; he’d been watching from beneath his blanket the entire time, observing his partner as he seduced the nurse. He had to admit Napoleon was quite a marvel to behold.

“I did nothing, why would you restrain me as well?”

“Because you and Mister Solo are like the Bobbsey Twins who do everything together.”

Nurse Reynolds gave both men their injections under the supervision of the guard, and as they dozed off, Illya quietly asked one question of his partner.

“Napoleon, who are the Bobbsey Twins?”

“Illya, tell you after we wake up,” Solo yawned.

Mark and April, accompanied by a backup team of four agents, stood ready for the elevator doors to open on the thirteenth floor.

The doors slid back, though their opening was announced by a typical ‘ding’ heard on an elevator.

The agents stepped out, weapons in hand only to find a mess. It seemed the occupants somehow knew they were coming.

There were papers scattered everywhere, and a blonde woman was slumped over her desk. She’d been shot in the back of the head and her body was quite cold.

Moving carefully into the next room, they found nothing but more papers strewn across the floor.

In a blackened trash receptacle there was a pile of ash as documents had no doubt been burned there. What papers they did find contained nothing of value, no names, signatures, addresses; they were worthless.

Whoever had cleaned out the office knew exactly what they were doing. Other than the dead woman and the scattered papers, it seemed as though this had been an organized and professionally executed retreat.

A search of the rest of the floor resulted in nothing else being found except electrical outlets with plugs still in them, but belonging to what? Possibly computer terminal?

That was Dancer and Slate’s best guess. Something heavy must have been on the desks as the legs had made quite a deep indentation in the carpeting where they stood.

There were several more empty desks and toppled chairs.  Other than that there was little else to indicate how many people had been here or what was the purpose of their little operation.

“Looks pretty much like a dead end to me luv,” Mark said.

“I’m afraid I have to agree.” April suddenly raised her nose.”Do you smell that?”

Slate gave the air a sniff. “Perfume? Must be pretty strong to still be lingering, unless of course the wearer was here and we just missed her.”

“No, it’s a pretty potent fragrance, and not a cheap one either.” April breathed in through her nostrils, trying to remember that scent.

“It’s Chanel no. 5.”

“Never heard of it Luv.”

“Mark darling, haven’t you ever given any the ladies you date a bottle of fragrance as a gift?”

“Not really, can’t stand the stuff myself.”

April pulled her communicator,” Open Channel D- Waverly.”

“Your report Miss Dancer?”

“I’m afraid who was ever here cleaned house and left. There is a body though, from the looks of it a secretary. No clues to indicate they were truly CIA, or what they were doing here. There was the scent of Chanel no. 5 perfume in the back area, but that only means there was another woman or women working here other than our corpse.  She wasn’t wearing perfume by the way.”

“Very well. Please wait and supervise the cleanup crew once they arrive. Waverly out.”

Mark sat in one of the chairs while they waited for the team, though April finally sent the backup agents off to return to headquarters.

“Nothing like being short and sweet,” Slate commented on Waverly’s answer.

“Well short as in brief, yes, but sweet, hardly.”

At last the cleanup crew showed and while they did their work recovering the body, and picking up every piece of paper as well as the ashes in the trash pail, Mark and April sat idly by waiting for the work to be completed.

Finally, April decided to go to the management office, as she’d gotten the idea to see if there were records as to who had rented out the thirteenth floor. Surely the Chrysler building just didn’t let anyone use it for free. She then wondered if anyone even knew the floor was being occupied?

The building manager was quite helpful, especially since he was told there’d been a murder. April hinting that if he didn’t cooperate, then the news of the death of an innocent secretary might get leaked to the press helped jog his memory.

That lit a fire under him, and he located the original leasing agreement in his file cabinet.

Whoever had rented out the thirteenth floor had done so under the company name ‘Liberty Bell Services.’  April was sure it was probably some sort of false company name and basically a dead end. Still it would be researched back at headquarters regardless of what she thought.

Their were no checks sent to pay the rental as it was done so in cash, paid six months in advance.

April felt dejected at the lack of information.

“Don’t worry luv, we’ll find out who tried to kill Napoleon and Illya.”

“And don’t forget to add the ‘why’ to that as well darling.” April hardened herself, not letting her emotions and feelings for Napoleon show.  She was on the job and needed to be strong and professional.

Being one of the few female field agents, she knew she was a bit under the microscope, and probably being compared to the male agents performance-wise.

She didn’t feel the need to out do them, but she at least had to be as good as them.  Waverly had confidence in her and she wasn’t going to let him down.

Days later U.N.C.L.E. had its next lead; the dead woman was finally identified as a secretary named Marlene Saunders; she was in the employ of the CIA.

However, she was part of the secretarial pool and not linked to one specific person at Langley.

Waverly hesitated contacting the CIA on this just yet, but after it was decided the conditioning given to Helen Adams made her unbreakable, he had no choice. He also felt obligated to tell them they had one of their people in custody for the attempted murder of two UNCLE agents.

Finally, Waverly made the call he was avoiding and that was to his contact in McLean Virginia..

“What can I do you for Alex?” Jim Klem asked. He was the liaison to the U.N.C.L.E.

“It appears we’ve had some difficulty with one or more of your people. We have in our custody a woman named Helen Adams, purportedly one of your analysts. Miss Adams admitted to injuring two of my agents in an attempt to assassinate them and she killed one of our couriers down in Baltimore. There is apparently a plot to murder my best agents in order to undermine and destroy the U.N.C.L.E. that she admitted as well.  Miss Adams has been heavily conditioned to not reveal from whom she received her orders, and at this point I thought it prudent to read you in on the situation. We also have the remains of one Marlene Saunders also in your organization’s employ as a secretary.”

“Helen Adams, and Marlene Saunders you say? I’ll have to look into the matter as I don’t recognize their names. I’ll contact you as soon as I have anything. Thanks.”

The conversation was short and to the point. 

The next day Klem contacted Waverly, not with details but with a request.

“We’ll take Miss Adams off your hands if you don’t mind as well as the body of Miss Saunders. We do have to notify her next of kin. We take care of our own Alex and should be able to get some answers as to what’s going on, if we have Adams in our custody, that is. I will promise you that she will be punished for her crimes and we’ll get to the bottom of this and find who set up this operation. You have my sincerest apologies for what’s happened and please extend my regrets to your injured agents on behalf of the Central Intelligence Agency.

Waverly had no choice but to hand Adams and Saunders over to the CIA, though technically he had a right to keep Adams in custody and possibly send her to the UNCLE prison facility in Antarctica for the crimes to which she admitted.

She’d given them nothing more, information wise, as her conditioning having been so intense that it was able to even outwit the science teams here at headquarters.

His people were the best of the best, and to see them at a loss was a rarity.

Waverly had been told by Doctor Greene that it was inadvisable to use truth serum on Miss Adams again as it apparently had driven her blood pressure up to a dangerous level. A second round might have killed her.

Giving her back to the CIA would at least help keep the somewhat friendly relationship with them intact.

It had to be maintained with the United States government and all its entities as a member nation of the U.N.C.L.E. Perhaps it was even more a necessity since headquarters and so many field offices were located on American soil.

He trusted Jim Klem was being truthful about not knowing what had been done to Solo, Kuryakin and Miss Le Claire. Waverly wanted to believe that Klem and his people would sort things out in time.

As to whether he would ever be told who was behind the plot to assassinate UNCLE agents, that might not be forthcoming anytime soon, if at all.

They were the Central Intelligence Agency after all, their security and that of the United States was first and foremost to them.

Such was the world in which they lived and operated, one full of moves and counter moves, as well as treachery and deceit even among allies.

It was however also full of good, and good people too..

That was a constant Alexander Waverly was thankful he could count upon…

.

The End

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

A surprisingly open ending, but good work on the chapter. Good work from Artie, too.

(From my experience of Samanthas, it would be more likely Samantha would hypnotise him.)

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! It was one of those 'you can't win them all' type of endings. Which needs to happen sometimes, as UNCLE always winning, always beating the bad guys, would get a bit repetitive and boring after a while.

So you liked that shout out to you and Samantha?

Napoleon seducing the nurse was the perfect method to get him to try and 'disarm' her, so to speak. It's what he does when it comes to the ladies, especially one that doesn't really know him. But Artie to the rescue! :D

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Quite right to make her a nurse. She can be most supportive.

And the ending was original and well expressed.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Yes, :D Supportive is the operative word my friend. Thank you for your support, and Samantha's too!