section7mfu | "The Changeling" PART 2 For the PicFic Tuesday Challenge 10/14

Part 1: Here

Napoleon Solo waited patiently at “Mama Lisa’s” Italian restaurant. He was supposed to meet his partner there for dinner, with the time prearranged before Illya had left for his week-long mission in upstate New York.

If he looked at his watch once, he looked at it a half-dozen times. Illya was late, very late and that was unlike the Russian.

“Napoleone, penso che la data, lei non è venuta. Avere un po 'di antipasto, mia moglie dice che sei troppo magro, signore_Napoleon, I think the date, she’s not coming. Have a little 'starter’, my wife says you're too skinny, sir,” Fredo cheerfully called to him.

“Grazie amico mio, ma no. Penso che sto solo andando a tornare a casa_thank you my friend, but no. I think I'm just going to go home.” Napoleon said his farewells, heading out the door with only Illya on his mind. He was beginning to worry.

Ducking into a side alley, he pulled his communicator.

“Channel F, Kuryakin.”

“Kuryakin here,” the familiar voice answered a moment later.

“Illya where are you?”

"I am at home in bed. Why do you ask?”

“Ahem,” Solo cleared his throat.”You don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“You were supposed to meet me at Mama Lisa’s for dinner tonight.”

“Oh...OH. I am sorry I forgot. I owe you a dinner then, my treat of course. I was tired after returning from Albany and came straight home to bed in anticipation of tomorrow. Monday is usually an early day at headquarters is it not?”

Though nothing his partner said was unreasonable there was something off, the American couldn’t put his finger on it. Illya in bed at eight o’clock at night on a Sunday...he hoped the Russian wasn’t coming down with something.

“All right chum, get a good night’s sleep and I’ll see you in the morning. We can share a taxi if you want.”

“That will not be necessary as I plan to get to headquarters very early. Good night Napoleon.”

The signal was abruptly cut off. Illya didn’t sound annoyed? Solo put his communicator in his breast pocket with a shrug and a furrowed brow. His partner was rather short with him and he wondered what if anything had happened on his assignment.

Kuryakin arrived at Del Floria’s before dawn, using all the data he knew would allow him to to easily navigate U.N.C.L.E. headquarters. He had one mission and would need to complete it quickly, but still needed to check on the other agent who had been sent before him to do the job.

Wanda had desk duty at reception and greeted Illya with a cheerful hello, to which he responded with a cold grunt, nothing unusual there she supposed. The Russian had his moments, and she guessed this wasn’t one of them and tried not to take it personally.

He passed people coming and going in the corridor, busy at even this early part of the day. A few greeting him, though he had no information as to who they were, and therefore ignored them.

He retained information about individuals he would most likely have contact with, Waverly, Solo, Miss Rogers and a few of Kuryakin’s lab personnel, all others were considered superfluous and unnecessary to his completion of his mission.

He paused for a moment as the secondary entrance silently opened, almost as if it had been unexpected; he proceeded through, heading down the corridor to his ultimate destination and that was to the computer section.

Once inside the computer room, he scanned it, with it’s perimeter lined by immense main-frame computers seemingly alive with their many colored flashing their lights showing they were being accessed by other UNCLE locations around the world.

In the center of the room were work stations with several terminals and there he seated himself.

Illya canted his head to one side as he studied everything, preparing to request the data he’d been sent to steal, and that was the entire classified database of UNCLE.

It would not be given to him via paper punch cards and printouts, no, he would view it on small vid-screen modified to show the information.

The screen slowly faded into view, revealing the U.N.C.L.E. banner that faded to a a very specific message appearing one letter at a time as if it were being typed by an unseen hand.

“C-l-a-s-s-i-f-i-e-d <space> d-a-ta-b-a-s-e <space> c-l-e-a-r-a-n-c-e r-e-q-u-i-r-e-d.”

He flashed a momentary smile, as the information gleaned from the real Kuryakin was working. The man was one of only a handful of operatives who had that level clearance.

“A-c-c-e-s-s <space> t-e-r-m-i-n-a-l.

”He typed in his identification followed by the pass code that had been obtained during one of Kuryakin's many psychological torture sessions, though it had not been easy for T.H.R.U.S.H. to retrieve the needed information as the Russian had been a difficult man to break.

A message flashed over and over on the computer screen.

“The classified information you are trying to launch has been encrypted with EYES ONLY cipher algorithms.”

His eyes went wide….that did not compute. He felt as if he should know these cipher algorithms but for some reason he did not; no matter, he would be able to break the code, given enough time.

He signed out of the terminal, instead heading to the office Kuryakin shared with his partner. Perhaps there were files or clues to the ciphers there to help him speed up the process of getting into the U.N.C.L.E. system.

Napoleon Solo arrived at headquarters, early for once, and he was greeting with a smile by Wanda at the reception desk. As he leaned in closer for her to pin his badge to his lapel, she whispered to him.

“Illya’s here already, came in cock crow and he seems to be crankier than usual.”

“Thanks Wanda,”Solo kissed her hand,”I am forewarned.” He reached for the house phone on the wall near the door. “Security, Solo here. Could you locate Mr Kuryakin for me?”

“One moment please….Mr. Kuryakin was last in the computer room. He's in his office at present.”

“Thanks, I’ll catch up with him there.”

Napoleon hung up, heading to his office It was there he did indeed find his partner, and strangely Illya had emptied out all of his files, with papers piled and scattered everywhere. Quite a surprise as he was known for his fastidious organization when it came to his paperwork there at headquarters, unlike his home life which was sometimes a bit dissheveled.

“Good morning tovarisch. A little early for Spring cleaning isn't it?”

Illya stiffened as soon as he heard the voice.

“You startled me.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to do that. So what are you doing?’

“Ummm, looking for something in my files.”

“And what might that be?” Napoleon removed his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair.

“Just a report.”

Solo thought that strange. “We don’t keep reports here...you know that.”

“Yes, that is correct. I forgot that. I wish you had gotten here earlier to remind me of that. It would have saved me all this trouble.” Kuryakin got up from his knees, dusting off his trousers. He began hoisting his files and simply tossing them into the cabinet drawers.

“Aren’t you going to straighten them out chum?”

“I will do that later perhaps. Would you care to join me in the cafeteria for some coffee Napoleon?”

“Ugh, yeah sure why not.” Solo grabbed his jacket, following his partner out the door.

They reached a junction in the corridor and Napoleon watched as his partner made an unexpected left turn.

“Illya,” he called, pointing his finger. "Umm, the commissary it’s that way, or have you forgotten that too?”

“Yes, I know. I was just distracted.”

“Tell me about it,” Napoleon mumbled, to himself”

“Tell you about what?”

“You heard me? I barely whispered to myself.”

“Perhaps you spoke louder than you thought you did.”

There was no response to that as the two men walked through the door; getting some mugs from the table, they headed to the coffee urn.

‘Breakfast partner?” Napoleon asked.

‘No thank you. I am not hungry.” That answer made Solo’s eyebrows arch. Something wasn't definitely not right here.

Once done pouring his coffee Illya followed the American to the back corner, seating themselves at their usual table.

The conversation was non-existent, and as Illya reached for the sugar dispenser he spooned some into his coffee; all the while Solo watched him with interest.

“So what were you doing in the computer room so early this morning tovarisch?”

“How did you know I was there?”

“Are you kidding me...really you are, right? How could you even ask me that?”

“Napoleon I do not understand what you are going on about, Illya sipped his coffee.

“Let’s put it this way chum, you’re not acting quite yourself.”

“I am not?”

“No. Are you feeling all right?”

“I am fine. Do I not look fine? I feel fine you bolvan."

“No you’re not fine!" That did it. Napoleon stood, drawing his gun from his holster and aimed it directly at the man.

Everyone around them stood, backing off in surprise, some gasping.

Solo fired his weapon; a sleep dart finding it’s mark in Illya’s neck. though it was completely ineffective. The Russian dove at Solo, grabbing him by the throat with a death grip. One clawed at the others face, tearing his skin.

Security klaxons blared, lights flashed and the next thing that happened made some of the other personnel shriek in terror...

PART 3 THE CONCLUSION: HERE