Puzzled - Short Affair - September 23rd

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Prompts - Trick/Gas/Red
Word Count - 718

You can find the story under the cut, or you can follow the link to AO3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20751884




“Just as I thought.” Illya stated, as the room he and Napoleon were trapped in slowly filled with a red gas.

“Thank you, Mr Pessimist,” Solo snapped. “But now is not the time for that. Look for a way out!”

*****

The door to the large, windowless room had locked behind the moment they had set foot inside. The room was empty, apart from dim, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, a vent in the middle of the floor, and a big, coloured button on each wall that didn’t contain the door. An examination of the door proved fruitless as there was no discernable way to open it from the inside. Napoleon’s instinct had been to try out the three buttons. One was red, one was green, and one was black. They each had the word ‘PUSH’ printed on them,

Illya had warned him to be careful, as it seemed too simple and obvious. Red was known to be associated with either ‘stop’ or ‘danger’, Green was for ‘go’ or ‘safe’, and black tended to be linked to ‘death’.

“Green for go it is,” Napoleon had stated, walking to push the button.

“Wait. I think the buttons might be red anchovies.”

“Red herrings,” Solo had automatically corrected. “There’s nothing else here. It has to be one of these. Maybe they’re double bluffing us with the colours. How about the red one?”

“How about waiting until we have ruled out everything?”

“Fine.”

The two agents thoroughly investigated everything. Illya lifted the vent cover and, utilising the small flashlight Napoleon was carrying, he examined the inside. Nothing was found which could help them in any way.

“Give me a lift up,” Napoleon instructed. “I’ll remove the light bulb.”

Illya had handed the flashlight back to Napoleon and got down onto his hands and knees. He tried not to grunt as he felt his partner step onto his back. Napoleon was heavier than he looked and Illya knew he couldn’t hold him for long. Luckily, Solo was aware of Illya’s struggle and dropped back to the floor, after first ruling out the electrical cable. The two men carefully inspected the bulb but came up empty once again.

“That just leaves the buttons,” said Illya. “Is there a way to pull them from the wall?”

After allowing Napoleon to stand on him again, to replace the light bulb, he stepped over to the green button. It was embedded into the wall, and lay flush with it. Illya took out his knife and looked for a way to get in between the buttton and the wall, but there was no gap.

“Go for the black one,” he’d stated, indicating for Napoleon to do the honours.

The moment Solo pressed it the gas had begun to come up from the vent.

“Lie down,” Napoleon had instructed, as the gas had begun to have an effect. “We don’t to hurt ourselves by falling.”

*****

When the agents awoke, they had been propped up against the wall. Alexander Waverly and psychiatrist Dr James Francis were standing in front of them.

“I take it we failed?” Napoleon said, dejectedly.

“Getting out of the room wasn’t the object of the test,” Dr Francis told them, as they got to their feet.

“Then what was it,” Illya demanded, unhappy at being lied to.

“We are creating a test to see how partners work together to solve a problem,” Waverly explained. “It will be for newly formed partnerships, but I thought it would be interesting to test the test itself with the two of you.”

Illya frowned. “Is there a solution to the puzzle of how to get out?”

“There is,” Dr Francis said, with a self-congratulatory smile. “The trick is to press all three buttons at once.”

“But that’s impossible!” Napoleon exclaimed. “You need three people, so it’s an unwinnable scenario!”

“Indeed, Mr Solo,” Waverly agreed. “Take an hour to fully recover from the gas, then come to my office for a debrief. Cheer up, gentlemen. Your ability to work together is definitely not in question.”

As he and Dr Francis left the room, Napoleon and Illya looked to one another.

“Do you ever feel like we are nothing more than tools to be used?” Napoleon asked.

“Always,” Illya replied. “Come. I will let you buy me a cup of coffee.”

.