"The Oubliette part 8."~ for the PicFic Tuesday Challenge 4/1

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Napoleon returned upstairs, stopping in to check on Illya. The Russian was asleep, but looked worse than ever, as if he were fading away.  That was when Solo decided to remove the IV line. If it contained antibiotics as Labé had said, then Illya should have been getting better.

What if his partner was slowly being poisoned? What if the food was poisoned as well? Was it caution or paranoia talking now? Something made him look in the dresser and in the closet.

Napoleon was shocked to find nothing. No clothing had been provided for the Russian. It was obvious now that Labé wasn’t expecting Illya to live and most likely was doing something to his partner to help expedite his death.

Solo decided to spend the night in Illya’s room, and crawled onto a what looked like a red silk embroidered opium bed, and as he laid there thoughts raced through his head.  Should he trust Seamus and Nurse or not?  Something had to be done, otherwise Illya wouldn’t make it.

He was usually a man of action, able to make split-second decisions under pressure but at the moment that confidence eluded him. Solo fell asleep still mulling it over.

There was a knock at the door, and Nurse slowly entered.

She nodded to Napoleon as he woke with a start, his hand automatically going to where his shoulder holster should have been. He felt like he’d been asleep for only a minute, when it in fact hours had passed.

Nurse pointed to her watch, signalling it was time for breakfast.  She became visibly upset when she saw the IV had been removed and gestured to Napoleon the universal position of the palms up, asking why the line had been tampered with.

“Poison, “ Napoleon mumbled, still tired from his night long meanderings.

“No no,” she waggled her finger, and wrote on a piece of paper.

“Antibiotics.”

“Can you be sure your master is telling the truth. My friend is getting worse, not better.”

“No, are antibiotics, I am certain.” She hesitated before writing further. “Of the food I am not. The master is a twisted evil man, that is why Seamus and I need to get out of here. He told me that he showed you the secret passage.”

“Yes he did. Now how do you and he know of the tunnel?”

She scribbled her answer. “Because we grew up in this castle. Our families worked for the old owner, who sold it to Mr. Mephisto-Labé.  We stayed to work for him, having no idea what a monster he is.  He did this to us.” She pointed to her mouth.

“Sorry...Nurse, by the way do you have a name?”

“Mairead,” she wrote down.

“Well, Mairead, I’m still thinking things over.” He took the notes, tossing them into the fireplace before he left the room.

Napoleon quickly showered and dressed for breakfast, heading down to the great room to join their host.  He wondered what surprise the man had in store today.  Though still hungry, he thought it in his best interests to pass on the food.

“Good Morning Mr. Solo. I trust you slept well?”

“As best as could be expected under the circumstances.”

Seamus brought a covered dish to Napoleon, placing it in front of him and revealing a plateful of Irish bacon, bangers, mash potatoes and slices of black and white pudding….a type of sausage made with pig's blood, barley, oats and beef fat for the black. White Pudding was similar but without the blood and made with minced liver. Either way, they looked pretty nasty.

“No thank you, I think I’ll pass,” Napoleon pushed the plate to the side, though the smell of it was terribly enticing.

“Suit yourself Mr. Solo. Do you play chess by the way?” There was flash of lightning followed by a long rumble of thunder. The rain was pelting against the window panes with ferocity, and looked as though it wasn’t going to stop any time soon.

“Yes, why?”

“Oh I thought we might play a game or two this afternoon. This dreary weather has me rather bored.

Napoleon huffed. “What’s your angle. You supply me with an entire wardrobe, yet nothing for my partner.”

“I am not expecting Mr. Kuryakin to recover, unless of course he’s put in hospital again where he can receive more intense treatments. However, I find you an intriguing man, one who has piqued my interest. I have a proposition for you. If you remain here as my companion...I will let your friend go.  You will both live, it is as simple as that if you accept my offer.”

Napoleon was taken aback, and never saw this coming at all.

“I thought you hated both of us and wanted us dead for depriving you of your ‘precious treasures?”

“I have forgiven you,” Labé said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. He speared a piece of bacon, popping it into his mouth. “Now come come, Napoleon...if I may address you as such. Eat up, the food isn’t tainted or made of rat, if that’s what you’re afraid of.  We can’t have you wasting away like Mr. Kuryakin can we?”

“All right Labé, I’ll take you up on your offer… a life for a life. I’ll stay here if it’ll save Illya.

Napoleon picked up on of the bangers and bit into it. The taste was astonishingly good, especially to a hungry man. Even if it Labé was lying and it was made from rat meat, he had to go along to maintain his ruse and get Illya, Mairead, Seamus and himself out of here before Labé would catch on.

Napoleon picked at his breakfast, feigning interest and finally excused himself to go check on his partner.

Labé smiled. “Yes you do that Napoleon. Say your goodbyes as I will have transport here for him very shortly.”

Napoleon went upstairs, finding Mairead with Illya, checking his pulse. An uneaten breakfast tray sat on the side table.

“It’s time Mairead, we’re going.” He knew damn well Labé wasn’t going to free Illya, and was most likely going to just kill him. They were under the gun now and had to get out before that madman brought his plan to fruition.

Napoleon went to his room, grabbing pants, several pairs of socks, a shirt and sweater for Illya, though they were too large, they’d at least help keep him warm.

He returned with the clothing, helping the nurse to dress his partner after removing the IV line. There was no way they could move the heavy oxygen tank and had to hope for the best.

Illya barely opened his eyes as he spoke. What are you doing?”

“We’re getting out of here chum, before its too late.”

“Good...sorry I cannot help you.”

Mairead went to fetch Seamus and in minutes the butler appeared, carrying trench coats for all of them.

“Good idea, “Napoleon smiled at the man. “I’ll need your help with Illya.

Together they lifted the Russian to his feet, though he was as light as a feather between the two men.

“Okay buddy, try to walk if you can.”

“Da,” Illya weakly nodded as he took his first tentative steps, with the help of Napoleon and the butler he was able to move more easily.“Where is Labé?”

Seamus pointed his finger upwards. The man tried to speak, mouthing the word. “Baf.”

“He’s taking a bath?”

A nod yes was all Solo needed.

They headed downstairs with all alacrity, and once the door opened in the stairs, Mairead reached for a flashlight she and James apparently kept there.  She pulled a cobweb covered wooden lever in the wall, and the stairs lowered back into place until they were bathed in the light of the single bulb suspended from the tunnel ceiling.

Mairead pointed the way, and guiding them with the flashlight they carefully made their way through the winding tunnel, stopping when Illya began to cough.  The nurse pounded his back, helping to break up the congestion, and they were on their way.

Finally they found their way to what looked like a dead end. Mairead reached for another lever and pulling it; a false stone wall slid to the side.

They stepped out into the fresh air, though the thunder and lightning were wild in the sky and the

cold rain was coming down in torrents; it felt wonderful. Freedom had a way making one feel that way regardless of adverse weather.

It seemed like they were home free, until two figures burst through a thicket, brandishing guns.

“April? Mark?” Napoleon called out in astonishment.

“In the flesh mate,” the Brit grinned. “And here we thought we’d be rescuing you both, but looks like you’ve gone and done that yourselves.”

“No time for small talk, Illya’s really sick, and we need to get out of here before we’re discovered missing.”

“Wait,” Illya croaked. “Where is the power source for the castle….the power lines?”

Seamus pointed to the left.

“What do you have in mind chum?” Napoleon asked, raising his voice against the din of the storm.

“Cut the power and Labé will be trapped inside.”

“Got ya mate, Mark smiled turning and heading off in search of the power lines.

“April are you wearing your charm bracelet?” The Russian gasped.

“Of course darling.”

“Toss some explosive charms into this tunnel to seal it.”

“Will do. Now you need to head that way,” she pointed, “We have a boat waiting for us down below.”

Dancer waited until they others were at a safe distance before pulling a silver pineapple charm and one of the Eiffel tower from her bracelet, tossing them into the entrance as she turned and ran to safety.

The concurrent explosions were massive. “BOOM! BOOM!”

April took off catching up with the others, and meeting up with her partner on the rocky path leading down to the docks.

“Power cut luv.”

They all climbed aboard the small fishing boat that Mark and April had commandeered, paying the captain and crew a pretty penny to cross to the island in stormy weather.

The Captain had been hesitant at first to approach the island; being a superstitious person, he spoke of the castle being haunted. No one ever wanted to go near the island for that reason.  Those who did, disappeared.

However, money talked and April, using her feminine wiles made him an offer he couldn’t refuse, with the promise of a kiss from a lovely ginger-haired woman sealing the deal.

The trip back to the mainland and the town of Ballinhoorisky was rough, and Napoleon sat below deck with the others, cradling Illya in his arms.

“Pretty smart of you tovarisch thinking of cutting the power and sealing the tunnel.”

“Yes, now it is Mephisto-Labé’s turn to be trapped in an oubliette of his own making, though he will have creature comforts eventually he will run out of food and have to subsist on rats and vermin.”

“You really want to leave him there?”

“Yes, he deserves it for what he did to me...us.”

“Cruel tovarisch, cold and cruel.”

“Sometimes that is necessary. He is a lunatic and the chance of him being loosed on the world again must not happen.”

Illya turned his face away, signalling the end of the discussion.

.

Ghairovald Mephisto-Labé had just poured himself a cognac, and was setting up the chessboard in his library when he heard the explosions. The lights flickered and seconds later he was plunged into darkness; the storm clouds blocking most of the light, except for the blue flashes of lightning that lit of the sky for but a brief blink of an eye.

The chess pieces on the board vibrated and some fell from the concussion, rolling to the floor.

“No...noooo.” Labé moaned. He knew instantly Solo had done something and he searched upstairs, finding Kuryakin gone.

“Seamus! Mairead!”He shouted again and again, yet no one appeared. He grabbed his remote control, heading to the front door of the castle, and aiming the device at it...nothing happened.

He pressed the button over and over, now beginning to panic.

How could he get out? What had Solo done?  The only window in the entire castle was the one in the great room and that overlooked a dead drop to the sea and the rocks below.

Labé was trapped, and he knew it.  He returned by torch light to the great room, picking up his cognac, and downing it in one gulp.

He would figure a way out somehow. There had to be a way, he told himself. Those confounded U.N.C.L.E. agents had found one and taken his servants with them! There had to have been a secret way out of the castle, one that that accursed Seamus and Mairead must have shared with them.

He began a frantic search.

As large as his home was, he felt claustrophobic. The walls seemed as though they were closing in on him. His breathing was becoming short as the sense of panic at being trapped set in...his treasures brought him no pleasure now. He had been a fool. A fool!

He sat at his piano playing like a madman, melodies that went into dark minors and cacophonous chords...

.

Illya made a quick recovery in an Irish hospital with the right medicines and breathing treatments he grew much stronger and would soon be able to travel. He and his partner finally had a discussion about Labé.

Solo convinced the Russian that leaving the man to die alone was wrong, and though Kuryakin coldly insisted the man deserved it; he backpedaled, and finally agreed that a clean up team should be sent in to rescue Labé, on the assurance the man be sent to a high security insane asylum, far far away.

The next day Napoleon received a communiqué  from the team, and it wasn’t good news.

He went to Illya’s hospital room to give it to him.

“Tovarisch, I just received a report about our friend Labé,” he hesitated.

“What? Please do not tell me he escaped?” Illya groaned, pulling himself up in the bed.

“Well in a way he did...he took a cowards way out. He hung himself from the chandelier in the great room.

The news was met with a satisfied look from Kuryakin…

"That make you happy chum?" Napoleon smiled.

"Completely, as there is one less lunatic in the world to worry about."

"You do know there is always one waiting in the wings to take his place."

"Oh thank you for that cheerful thought," Kuryakin moaned.

Napoleon produced a small lunch bag from behind his back. "Here I think this'll make you smile."

"What is it?" Illya grabbed the bag, knowing somehow it was food. Real food and not just soup and green jello.

"Corned beef on rye with mustard. A touch of the Irish for ye," Solo chuckled.

There was no sarcastic retort from the Russian as he was already eating the sandwich...rolling his eyes appreciatively at the taste of his first bite.

.

Finis

Comments

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Hmm everyone seems to be siding with Illya on this one, but since he's one of the good guys...

Thanks for catching up on this one!