Man from U.N.C.L.E. Section VII

A/N:  I am an "Illya" girl and am tempted to write stories mostly about IK. This is an attempt to break away from that and focus on Napoleon Solo and try to find his voice, to reach into his psyche. Don't know if I was successful, but it was fun trying.

Napoleon Solo lay bonelessly on the rock shelf that served as a sleeping palette, although sleeping palette was a misnomer as there had been precious little of that....sleep that is. Beads of sweat rolled down the planes of his face leaving canyons in the grime that coated his skin. After days, or was it weeks, of brutal interrogation, sleep deprivation, and lack of sustenance the top agent of the UNCLE wondered how much longer he could hold on and keep his wits about him. How long would it be before his captors tire of him and dispose of him the way they did with Illya Kuryakin.

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