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section7mfuchapter 2: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/2013/10/05/
chapter 3: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/413043.html
chapter 4: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/416697.html
chapter 5: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/419604.html
Napoleon was taken to the next white-washed building, stripped of his khakis and footwear; they were replaced with a filthy grey shirt and pants, but no shoes… it was a prisoner’s uniform.
He was led into a darkened room and hefted into the air by the guards; draping the chains on his wrist manacles to a hook in the ceiling. When he was let go, a grunt was forced out of him as his body dropped, putting all his weight on his arms.
He dangled there for several minutes, tightening his jaw as he acclimated to feeling of being a strung up side of beef. Blood began to trickle down his arms from his wrists as the shackles cut into his skin. It was then he noticed the walls and floor were spattered with what looked like dried blood; not the most welcoming of sights.
“Vot my i vstretilisʹ , nakonets, Solo tovarishch_so we meet at last Comrade Solo.”
Napoleon craned his neck, unable to see the man behind him, he spoke, not letting on he understood Russian. “Who are you and why are you doing this to me? I have my rights as an American citizen!” Let me down,” he demanded.
The man reached out, spinning the U.N.C.L.E. agent around to face him. He was tall, dark haired with piercing blue eyes, like Illya’s. He was handsome in a brutish sort of way, with a strong squared off jaw.
“So you choose to play this childish game with me. I know you understand Russian but I will accommodate you by speaking English.That way there will be no misunderstanding in what I have to say to you.”
Napoleon flashed him a bewildered look, still trying to play the innocent.
“Look, please. There’s been a terrible mistake here…”
“I am Colonel Lyov Zakhrov. You are Napoleon Solo of U.N.C.L.E. and your associate is the traitor Illya Nickovich Kuryakin. You have stolen something very important that belongs to a mutual acquaintance and they want it back...now.”
Napoleon huffed as best he could, but the physical position he was in was making breathing a little difficult.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, and I …” he broke out into a coughing fit. “don’t know this Napoleon Solo. Why won’t anyone believe my name is Anthony Solamente. I’m part of a United Nations team and here as a consultant to help install wells here in your... this country.”
Zakrov said nothing, but responded with a blow to Napoleon’s midsection, followed by another and another. After that pounding was done, leaving Solo gasping for air; the Colonel moved his assault to the agent’s face, finally stopping when Napoleon’s nose and mouth had rivulets of blood running from them with new bruises blossoming on his cheeks.
“No more of this bullshit! Where are the Triad code Mr. Solo?” The dark-haired Russian barked as he wiped the blood from his hands on the prisoner’s shirt.
Napoleon moaned but said nothing.
The Colonel continued to beat him, but when it became obvious the agent wasn’t going to talk; he stopped. This approach was getting him nowhere. Sadly his orders were to let the American live, as he could have easily beaten him to death, but still he needed to keep him alive to retrieve the codes as well as to be sent back to T.H.R.U.S.H. Central.
Zakhrov reached for a small wooden case on a nearby table and opened it, revealing a syringe and several vials of green liquid. He removed one of the them, and drew some of the liquid through the needle, squirting a bit of the liquid back out from it, thereby removing any air bubbles, lest they kill the prisoner.
He jabbed the needle none too gently into Napoleon’s forearm, and watched while the American winced as the drug began to course through his veins.
Solo gave up his ruse.” Won’t work you know, U.N.C.L.E. agents have been conditioned to stand up against a lot of concoctions, including those of your feathered friends.”
“Good the drug is already working, as you admit to who you are now,” the Russian smiled. “It is a truth serum, one of my own making. I doubt you are conditioned against it. Now tell me, where are the Triad codes?”
Napoleon’s eyelids began to droop as he felt his will to fight the drug diminish. He’d once told Illya to think about girls to fight off a truth serum, but that wasn’t going to work here, not now...come to think of it; it hadn’t worked for Illya back then either.
Zakhrov was right, Napoleon couldn’t resist it.
“Now tell me the truth Mr. Solo?” The Russian softened his voice, making it seem almost hypnotic.
Napoleon mumbled his reply, his voice becoming almost child-like.
“I really dunno..” He then began to laugh, finding that funny.”Your drugssss workin’ but the truthssss I dunno.”
“Where is your partner?”
“Dunno that either...hahhaaaaa.”
“Take him outside,” Zakhrov hissed, resigning his momentary failure. He couldn’t risk giving the American another does, not so soon, otherwise it could kill him.
He unlocked the manacles, letting Napoleon drop to the floor in a heap. Their training to resist truth serum was far greater than the Russian imagined, yet little did he know, Solo was actually telling the truth. It just wasn’t what Zakhrov expected to hear.
The two guards lifted Solo by the arms, pausing while the Colonel grabbed the prisoner’s hair, wrenching his head back with a brutal yank.
“We will see how well you do after your stay in the pit,” Zakhrov sneered. “Take him away...and be sure I am notified immediately if Kuryakin is captured.”
“Da Comrade Colonel,” his men crisply answered with a salute.
Napoleons mind went to thoughts of his partner; they had both been seen in the city, and the Thrushmen knew what he looked like, but in spite of that he was convinced Illya would eventually show up to rescue him. They both had a reputation for doing that, riding in like the cavalry to save each other. He only hoped the cavalry would arrive sooner than later and not get caught in the process.
The Colonel obviously had it out for Illya, and a determined man was a very dangerous thing..
“Youuu won’t catch hiiimm,’Napoleon slurred.
“We will see,” Zakhrov whispered, imagining he would eventually lure Kuryakin out into the open, if he had not been yet been captured.
He was convinced his fellow countryman would show up to rescue his American friend, and it was then he would apprehend Kuryakin. Having both agents as prisoners; he would pit them against each other and get the location of the codes, of that he had no doubt.
These men were purported to be great friends; a form of leverage that would work to his advantage. One would give up the truth to save the other.
He was very good at doing that. Once the Colonel had the codes, he would take pleasure in making Illya Kuryakin suffer greatly before he killed him for the traitorous cur that he was, but his torture would last a long time, an exquisitely long and painful one.
It would be interesting to see who caved in first and once he retrieved the codes for his feathered brethren… Solo would be returned to T.H.R.U.S.H. and finally, the real fun would begin.
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Date: 2013-10-12 04:06 pm (UTC)I do "love" your villains!
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Date: 2013-10-12 04:17 pm (UTC)