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

Prompts – Match, Drain, Brown


Napoleon looked up from the report he was working on. Frowning he looked at his watch. It had been an hour since Illya had rushed out of the office. Even if he had ordered a full meal at the commissary he should have been back by now. He picked up his phone and called a number. “Hello, Jenna my dear. Could you tell me where Illya is in the building?”

“When did he leave? I see.”

Napoleon called the receptionist at the agent’s entrance. “Did Illya say where he was going when he left?”

Napoleon was about to call his errant partner on the communicator when it warbled. “Solo.”

“Mr. Solo this is Reg Peterson, Section Three. I’m in charge of the cleanup crew at the satrap that you and your partner blew this morning.”

Napoleon knew Peterson. He had an outstanding reputation in Section Three. “Yes Reg. What can I do for you?”

“Well, it’s your partner. Agent Kuryakin showed up here and demanded to be let into the site. He was acting sort of aggressive about it and I told him I had to call to get permission from you. He just cursed and went off into the woods.”

“Did he say why he needed to get in?”

“No, just that it wasn’t any of my business.”

“I’ll be right there. If you see him keep him there”

“I’ll try. But you know your partner. I can’t guarantee anything.”

Napoleon rushed out of his office. Passing Mark Slate in the hall he told the young Brit to get his partner April Dancer and meet him in the parking garage.

******************************

Illya slid down a brush covered slope toward rear of the destroyed THRUSH lab site. Sliding to the bottom of the slope Illya waded through a brown, sludge filled slow moving stream of water. He would stop listen and sniff every few feet. “It has to be around here.” He muttered to himself. He sped up as he caught a chemical scent in the water. He could hear a faint low whistle of air. “I knew it!”

He almost passed a large mound of brush but turned back as he realized that it looked as if it had been purposely piled against the slope. Illya began to pull the brush away flinging it into the stream. He finally uncovered a large drain that headed into the slope. Illya rested against the side of the drain, shook his head and then retched onto the ground.

He entered the drain and headed into the dark keeping one hand on the side of the drain. He told himself it was so he didn’t get lost but it was really to help him stay upright. He tried to keep the dizzy feelings from becoming overwhelming. He knew he had to stay focused and on his feet.

He felt a straight seam in the side of the drain. Taking a book of matches out of his pocket he struck a match. Illya could see a sealed door in it’s flickering light. As the match sputtered out he felt the door slide open. He tried to back up into the darkness but stopped. He blinked as he saw one of the two THRUSH scientists that he had killed prior to setting his explosives. The scientist aimed a spray bottle at Illya and squeezed. A foul smelling chemical hit him in his face. Gasping Illya dropped to the ground.

The scientist waved and two THRUSH came forward and grabbed Illya by his legs and pulled him through the door which silently closed behind them.

********************************

Illya opened his eyes and squinted in the bright light. He tried to sit up only to discover that he was strapped to a metal table. He looked around and realized that he was in the undamaged laboratory that he thought he had blown up earlier that day.

“Welcome back Mr. Kuryakin.” It was the scientist he had killed earlier in the day.

“I shot you, didn’t I? I destroyed this lab.”

“As you can see, you didn’t.”

Illya coughed and looked around confused.

“We captured you and knocked you out with the gas we just used on you in the drain.”

“I remember shooting you, and setting the charges.”

“You mean these charges?” The man laughed as he pointed to a pile of UNCLE explosives stacked on a nearby table.

“I knew our site had been breached. We pulled as many people as we could down to the lab level. We have the ability to seal the lab off from the rest of the satrap. We also had self destruct charges already set. So we injected you with one of our new discoveries, a mild poison that leaves you very open to suggestion, confused, unable to focus and quite ill. We told you that you had set your charges, killed everyone and sent you on your way. Then we sealed the lab, and set the self destruct.”

“THRUSH labs usually have a back entrance.” Illya croaked.

“Indeed we do.” The scientist smiled. “Very clever of you to find it.”

Illya turned his head to the side and retched again.

“We intend to introduce our poison into the water system of UNCLE headquarters. Once everyone is sick THRUSH will be able to just walk in and take over. You were a perfect test subject.”

“So glad I could be of help.”

Sleeve, Penny, Silver


Illya slowly became aware of his surroundings through the muzzy fog of sedation. He could hear the quiet murmur of talking and the squeak of rubber soled shoes. “Medical” his brain concluded. He could sense an oxygen mask on his face and he could feel a chemical burn in his chest. He remembered the attack in the stairwell. Illya tried to open his eyes but they didn’t seem to get the message and remained stubbornly closed.

He tried to raise his hand to the call button that he knew would be attached to the sleeve of his hospital gown but his body just didn’t want to respond to any command his sluggish brain issued. He wanted to go home. Where was Napoleon? He drifted back into sleep.

The next time Illya became aware of his surroundings he knew he wasn’t alone. Still muzzy, sedated and unable to open his eyes he could hear breathing. Napoleon? His mind asked.

“I’m sorry Agent Kuryakin.”

Not Napoleon. His heart rate increased.

“I let my ego get the upper hand. Everyone was egging me on.”

The voice was familiar. He tried to relax.

“I almost ruined my career before it even got started. I’d give every penny I earn between now and when I retired to be able to start over.”

Ah, Illya thought, the new guy. Richfeld?

“I wish you could hear me. I really am sorry for what I did. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.”

Illya could hear footsteps retreat and a door softly close. He drifted off into sleep.

The next time Illya became aware he was able to open one eye. He silently rejoiced in this improvement. His room was dark except for a low light behind his bed. The muzzy feeling of the drugs in his system seemed to be less prevalent. He turned his head to the right where he knew a recliner was situated expecting to see his partner there. It was empty. Illya sighed, confused that he hadn’t seen his friend at any time. Where was he?

He heard the door softly open and he tried to focus on the dark shape that slipped into his room. Was it Napoleon or a nurse? The figure rushed toward him and Illya could see a flash of silver as the dim light reflected off a raised knife. He tried to twist away from the knife but his body decided not to respond. The report of several shots seemed to echo in the room as the dark figure landed heavily on top of him. The weight of the body caused him to gasp out what little breath he had. He lost consciousness.

***************************************

Napoleon Solo and Eric Richfeld sat across from Mr. Waverly. “Your report gentlemen?”

Nopoleon cleared his throat and started to speak. “I had Mr. Richfeld stand guard in the room next to Illya’s, and I was in the room on the other side. I felt that whoever had tried to kill Illya would make another attempt. I was right. We both saw a figure enter Agent Kuryakin’s room and attempt to stab him. Unfortunately we both entered and shot the figure at the same time. It was Brian Porter. He was killed instantly.”

Mr. Waverly scowled, “So we have no idea why he attempted to kill Mr. Kuryakin?”

“Actually we think we do.” Napoleon answered. “It seems that Porter was not his real last name. It was Kursov, Porter was his mother’s name.”

Eric Richfeld read from a file, “According to Mrs. Porter, Jacob Kursov, her late husband, had been a prisoner of the Chinese during Korea. When he returned home he suffered from battle fatigue and was understandably very anti communist. He became very mentally and physically abusive to her, Brian, and his older brother. Brian and his older brother despite being abused idolized their father. Brian’s older brother died in Vietnam at the hands of the North Vietnamese. His father, committed suicide. Brian took his mother’s last name, ashamed to be of Russian descent.”

Napoleon continued. “We suspect that because Jules Cutter always encouraged the recruits to best Illya’s records as Survival School that perhaps Brian Porter felt he needed to kill his perceived enemy. Illya was everything he and his father hated, Russian and a communist. At least that’s what the psychologists in medical believe.”

Waverly nodded, “But we will never know for certain.”

“No sir. But it’s over.”

“What is the latest on Mr. Kuryakin?”

Napoleon sighed, “The doctors say he’ll be in medical for at least a week or so. I assume he’ll be on light duty for a while before he can return to active duty.”

“Very good gentlemen. I think that until Mr. Kuryakin returns to duty that perhaps Mr. Richfeld should fill in for him as your partner.”

Eric Richfeld looked at the two older men with surprise. “But I’m just out of training!”

Napoleon smiled, “Consider it on the job training until Illya comes back.”

“Yes Sir!”

“That will be all gentlemen.” As the two agents walked out of his office Alexander Waverly picked up a report from medical. Grim faced, he read the report once more.

***************************

Seventeen years later….

Chief Enforcement Agent Richfeld put the last personal item in the box he was packing. He never expected to make it to retirement age. He had decided to leave UNCLE rather than move into administration. Field work was just too hard to give up.

He looked up as the door to his office opened. Illya Kuryakin, head of Section Eight entered. He was still youthful looking, though he had finally packed on a few pounds. His white blond hair was now a darker shade of honey. He looked at Eric and smiled. “I’ve come to escort you to your retirement party.” His voice was rough and husky. Illya had never recovered from the chemical burns to his lungs and had never returned to being an active agent. “Here, I have something for you.” Illya handed Eric a small wrapped package.

Eric tore the wrapping paper off. Inside was a picture frame, in the center was mounted a penny, written under it were the words “Thank you, IK.”

Eric looked at Illya confused. “I don’t get it.”

“You said you would give every penny you earned between then and your retirement date to do it over.”

“You heard me?”

“Yes. I wanted to thank you for being Napoleon’s partner for all the years I couldn't be. I wanted to thank you for always bringing him back. You have no idea how much that meant and means to me.”

“My pleasure Illya.”

“We’re even. However we’d better get to the commissary. Napoleon is hosting your party and we both know how much Number One loves to party.”

Eric laughed, put his arm around the older man’s shoulders. The two friends left the office. The door shut behind them.

Roar, Unique, Red


Illya paused at the corner as the door to Napoleon and his office opened. He watched as the five recruits he had met in the gym left, heading in the opposite direction toward the elevator. Eric Richfeld looked angry. He was scowling and his face was red. The other four men looked a bit pale and frightened. After they entered the elevator Illya left his position and entered the office.

Napoleon looked up as the door swished open and his partner entered. “Hey, our new guys just left.”

“Yes, I saw. Richfeld looked a bit angry.”

Napoleon laughed, “Yes, I’m afraid he’s not too happy.”

“Is he still Section Two?”

“I was going to send him to Section Three, but since he had such a good record from Survival School, and a recommendation from Cutter, I gave him one more chance.” Napoleon gestured to files on his desk. “The guy who stood up to Richfeld, Brian Porter has potential. He doesn’t have as good a record as Richfeld but has a good attitude and personality. The other three are average. I read the riot act to all of them as they didn’t do more to stop their friend.”

Illya nodded. “However you strongly chastised Richfeld?”

“Yes. I had an acquaintance who worked for the police call someone like that badge heavy.”

“Ah, not a unique situation.” Illya nodded, “In the Navy we would occasionally have an officer who let his rank go to his head and think that he was better than everyone else. They would soon be taught the error of their ways.”

“I can only imagine.”

Illya’s grin was cold, “I doubt that you could, my friend.”

Napoleon wasn’t sure he wanted to know about the unofficial justice handed out on a Soviet submarine.

Later that afternoon….

Illya looked up from the report he was writing. Napoleon was dutifully working on his own report. Illya tidied up his desk and stood. “I’ve got to go down to the lab and clean up my desk there. Would you like to join me for a drink at O’Malley’s later? My treat.”

“Oh, I certainly can’t turn down an offer like that!”

Illya grinned as he walked out the door. “I’ll be back at quitting time and we can split a cab.”

“See you later partner.”

Illya walked down the hall to the stairwell. He preferred using the stairs when he could. As he entered the stairwell he noticed that some of the lights were out. He’d have to notify maintenance about that. As he ran down the stairs he was thinking about his lab office and the tasks he had to complete prior to quitting. As he rounded a turn in the stairs he felt a door open behind him. As he turned a cloth bag was pulled over his head. He struggled to hit his attacker but there must have been some chemical on the cloth. He gasped as he became disoriented, he could hear the roar of his own blood in his ears as he lost consciousness and fell.