A puff of smoke and two soft pops was all they heard. Before Illya Kuryakin had a chance to turn
and draw his weapon, three Thrush thugs burst into Alexander Waverly's inner
sanctum, pulled him away from his console, and had two 9 mm pistols aimed at
his throat. Illya unbuttoned his jacket
to reveal his gun and put his hands on top of his head, fingers
interlaced. Both Waverly and Kuryakin
looked at the smoldering door blown off the UNCLE Chief's private
entrance. A tall, rather lanky man
stepped carefully into Waverly's office with a smug grin on his face. He was dressed in a very British tweed suit,
brown eyes, mustached, wearing a smart looking bowler hat. The man was in his
early 50's and both Kuryakin and Waverly recognized him immediately. Edmund Sykes.
"Dr." Edmund Sykes, as he preferred to be called. Nothing in Sykes's UNCLE file indicated he
had any kind of degree or medical training, and in general, Sykes was viewed
more as an irritating eccentric rather than a dangerous operative. Still, his presence in UNCLE headquarters was
a serious threat.
"Edmund, good gracious."
Waverly said. "What in the world
are you doing here?"
"Why Alexander, it is so good to see you. Forgive me for dropping in unannounced" he replied
in a crisp British accent. "Now before we visit, would you have Miss Rogers
come in immediately and....let's see.....oh yes... please page Mr. Solo to your
office right away. I think that will
take care of a few preliminaries."
He turned to the three Thrush agents. "Would one of you
please relieve Mr. Kuryakin of his various and sundry toys? Mr. Kuryakin, would you please back up to the
wall there and remain with your hands in the air? Thank you ever so much." The Thrush man paused and turned behind him.
"Gabriella? Please join us."
A stunning Italian looking brunette strode into the room as
if she owned the place. Illya groaned to
himself recognizing Gabriella Massamino.
Two years ago, Illya had rescued Napoleon from the clutches of Gabriella
and Dr. Peter Hecht in "The Hecht Formula Affair." To Napoleon's great humiliation, the duo
performed a series of experiments, rather sexual in nature on him, while
administering a drug designed to heighten his senses. Gabriella had lured Napoleon into the trap,
apparently angered by information Solo had gathered from her when he seduced
her on a mission in Lisbon. It was clear to Illya during the rescue, that
Gabriella was not only some kind of sexual sociopath, but that she was totally
obsessed with his partner. Napoleon
would not be happy to see her here in UNCLE headquarters. Not at all.
As if on cue, Napoleon Solo walked casually into the room as
the door opened and quickly assessed the situation. He had his Special halfway drawn before he
was stopped cold.
"Ah, ah Mr. Solo. No,
no, no. You don't want to be responsible
for losing your dear Mr. Waverly now, do you?" Dr Sykes warned. Solo sighed and placed his gun on the
conference table. A look of disgust came
over his face as he recognized Gabriella Massamino.
"Oh come now, Mr. Solo." Sykes smiled. "I've brought
Gabriella in on this mission just for your benefit. She's traveled half-way around the world to
reacquaint with you. Let's not
disappoint her, hmmmmmmm? Now kindly turn around and put your hands on the
wall. I believe Gabriella would like to
conduct a brief pat down, right darling?"
Solo followed the directions reluctantly. He and Illya could have easily overrun the
small group of Thrush agents had weapons not been held directly to Waverly's
head. Edmund Sykes knew that neither
agent would dare make a move and jeopardize Waverly's life. Right now, they were helpless, but Solo
mentally started making plans for recovering Mr. Waverly after the Thrush
personnel took him from UNCLE headquarters.
In the meantime, Gabriella sauntered over the the UNCLE CEA and kicked
his feet apart with glee. She leaned
over making contact with his back as she slowly ran her hands up and down his
chest. Before stepping back, she made a
point of resting both hands on the front of his pants and giving a brief
squeeze. Solo jumped in spite of
himself.
"Oh Napoleon, it is so good to be in touch with you again."
She purred. "Our fun was interrupted so rudely by your little blond friend last
time. I'm sure you were just as
disappointed as I was."
"Hardly, dear. Don't
flatter yourself." Solo scowled as he turned around.
The Italian woman didn't hesitate to slap Solo
hard across the face.
Waverly interrupted sharply. "All right now Edmund, you've
made your point. There is no need for
fisticuffs here. I'll go with you
quietly and give you my word you'll have my full cooperation."
Dr. Sykes sat at one of the comfortable chairs around the
conference table. "Why Alexander, that
is very decent of you." he said. "However, today, I'm not here for you. I'm here for him." He said pointing at
Solo. "You see," he continued. "Mr. Solo
has been the bane of my existence for some time now. It seems that every single time I have come
up with a deliciously savage plan to derail UNCLE, Mr. Solo here has seen to it
that my efforts were sabotaged. I'm quite
tired of him disrupting my plans. So I
have adopted a new strategy, you see. I've
decided that Mr. Solo will come and work for me. He then, will be able to wreak havoc on UNCLE
headquarters, New York,
and you will have the pleasure of seeing what I have had to deal with all these
years. It really is quite ingenious,
don't you think?
Illya spoke up. "I would have to give you low grades for
originality Dr. Sykes. That sort of
thing has been tried before and it never works.
Not surgery, brainwashing, hypnotism...nothing has been able to turn an
UNCLE agent against their own."
Sykes laughed. "Oh Mr. Kuryakin, how dramatic of you. You know, the scientist in you might
appreciate my latest discovery. It's
called "rTMS" and I don't even have to cut into Mr. Solo's brain to accomplish
my objectives. You see, I will be
depolarizing certain little brain neurons in his head through "repetitive
trans-cranial magnetic stimulation." The
overall effect will be painless to Mr. Solo as long as he follows my directions
and orders. Should he refuse or resist,
however, he will experience pain that can only be described as
excruciating. In the lab animals I've
tested this on, the poor little creatures have been driven quite mad, I'm
afraid. Mr. Solo will be my first human
subject and I'm terribly excited about the possibilities."
"It's unlikely to be successful with humans, Sykes."
Napoleon said. "Humans can take pain for only so long before going
unconscious."
"A good theory, Mr. Solo." The doctor replied. "However,
that is in the case of eventual removal of pain stimulus. The effect of rTMS is quite permanent, so
even if you should fall back into UNCLE's hands again, which I doubt, they will
be unable to reverse the process. So
either way, you'll never be of any use to your little UNCLE friends again. They'll have to store you away somewhere in a
little rubber room, I should think."
"Yes darling," Gabriella added facing Napoleon, stroking his
shoulder. "Edmund will take care of you during the day and see to your
treatments. And then at night, you will
be turned over to me. We'll have such
fun together. My every wish will be your
command."
Dr. Sykes rose from his chair and prepared to leave. "I do apologize for this next part,
Alexander, but I will need to take some of the starch out of your CEA before we
make off with him. Can't have him putting up a fuss, you know." The scientist motioned to two of his Thrush
gunmen who moved in on Napoleon. The two
took turns striking Solo in the face and body over the next few minutes. This was a good old fashioned beating and
Napoleon would just have to take it. A
last blow to the face sent him on to the conference table before he slowly slid
to the floor. The two brutes picked him
up and held him between them, the CEA bloodied and semiconscious.
"There now." Edmund Patel said. "Let's be off then. Alexander, Mr. Kuryakin... the next time you
see your Mr. Solo, you will be on opposing sides. You'll soon see what it's like to be up
against your own Chief Enforcement Agent.
This will be a delightful game of cat and mouse, I suspect. I hope you enjoy it as much as I will."
Solo was able to raise his head slightly with great effort.
"Illya, Mr. Waverly. Ring me up sometime?"
While the two UNCLE men digested Napoleon's last comment,
the Thrush agents and Gabriella Massamino disappeared with Solo through the
emergency exit of Waverly's office.
Napoleon Solo woke up on a plain, simple cot and could see
nothing but bars all around him. He was
not so much locked in a cell, as a cage, in the middle of a medium size, empty
concrete room. He rose stiffly to
evaluate his surroundings. Outside his
cell, there were no windows, no apparent doors, and only a small chair close to
his cell that looked much like a dentist's chair, only with straps and buckles
attached. Nearby was a table with some
kind of black instrument on it that resembled an enlarged monocular. Solo continued to scan the room but other
than small cameras in every corner of the room, there was nothing. Everything personal to him had been
removed....watch, ring, jacket, tie, and shoes.
He recognized this as a psychological strategy to strip away everything
within his immediate environment so that ultimately he would come to rely on
his captors for everything. He felt
certain he could resist. Solo vaguely
remembered his first "treatment" day from Dr. Sykes. His cell had been opened and he'd been
ordered to the chair in the room. He'd
refused, of course, and several Thrush men entered his cell to forcefully bring
him out. He smiled at the memory; he'd
gotten in some pretty good licks before the group of seven Thrushies had
finally subdued him and fastened him into the chair. At that time, Dr. Sykes entered the room from
somewhere behind him and pulled up a chair.
"Good morning, Mr. Solo." Sykes chirped. "This is indeed a
most auspicious day. We are about to
begin your rTMS treatment which I'm sure will lead to some most fascinating
scientific conclusions. I see it took
quite a few men to secure you in place this morning, a most impressive
display. I would expect that in another
two days, you'll be walking over here most willingly. Let me apologize for your sparse quarters. Your circumstances will improve dramatically
when you understand you must follow my every instruction. If everything goes the way I hope, we'll be
planning your first assault on UNCLE headquarters at the end of the week."
With that Dr. Edmund Sykes picked up the rTMS laser and
turned it on. There was a slight sound
of high frequency electronics but nothing else to really notice. Sykes moved towards Solo with the strange
instrument.
"Ah, Edmund, ... a little off the sides please but go easy on
the top, will you?" Napoleon quipped.
"Oh Mr. Solo, I do so enjoy your delightful wit." The British man replied. "Now, just relax and enjoy the
treatment. I can assure you it is
completely painless and we'll be done in about an hour.
Sykes was correct that the treatment was painless. Throughout the session, Dr. Sykes moved the
strange contraption back and forth over his head. The only sensation Napoleon could detect was
a little bit of lightheadedness but it was not completely unpleasant. When finished, he was released and Dr. Sykes
dramatically ordered him to return to his cell.
He stood defiantly and put his hands in his pockets noticing that an
intense headache came on almost instantaneously. The room filled again with a small group of
Thrush men, prepared to forcefully return him to the cell if necessary. After the tediousness of the day, Napoleon
was just itching for a fight. Despite
the pain, he put up a good battle before once again being overwhelmed by sheer
numbers and was dumped unceremoniously in his cell. Once the door had slammed shut, Dr. Sykes
bent down from outside one of the cell walls to speak to Napoleon as he lay on
the floor.
"Now Mr. Solo, I'd wager that your terrible headache has
gone away now that you are back in your quarters as requested." he smiled. "You
see, the only thing that will relieve your pain is when my orders to you are
carried out to the letter. So then, my
friend, you will have to decide when you've had enough. You wish to test your strength? Fine.
Our treatments will continue, three times a day, and your pain will
escalate. You are the only one who can
make it stop. I hope you won't resist me
too long; I do hate to see you suffer so."
He paused and noted Gabriella's entrance to the room.
"Edmund, really." She pouted. "Must you damage him this
way? I need him in top shape for what I
have in store for him. And I am getting
impatient. When will he be ready to come
upstairs with me?" Gabriella knelt down
on the floor and reached through the bars to run her hands through Napoleon's
hair. "You promised me, Edmund."
"Let's have a test then, shall we?" Sykes questioned as Solo
rose from the floor and moved stiffly towards the cot, ignoring the duo. "Go ahead and try something, my dear."
Gabriella thought for a minute and then spoke to Solo. "Napoleon, come over here and kiss me." She laughed.
Solo refused to move and his head started to pound within
seconds. The pain had intensified since
the morning session and it felt as if razor blades were cutting through his
skull. He bent over and held his head in
his hands, desperately hoping the pain would abate. Jesus, he hurt!
"Now darling, are you ready to spend the entire night this
way when all it would take to please me is one little kiss?" she asked coyly.
Solo breathed hard as the pain hammered him relentlessly. He gauged his strength and decided he would
have to choose his battles carefully if he was to have a chance in hell of
somehow escaping this nightmare. If
Gabriella wanted to play games, he could go along for a while. He rose reluctantly and walked towards the
cell bars where she stood waiting expectantly.
He leaned forward into her and she captured his mouth hungrily. His pain disappeared instantly.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm. Good
boy." She whispered reaching in and patting his face. "Again."
Napoleon refused to look her in the eye but complied.
"Wonderful, Mr. Solo.
An excellent choice." Dr. Sykes crowed.
"Yes, this is proceeding along just as I had hoped. You see, dear?"
"Very impressive, Edmund." Gabriella said reaching her hand
playfully under Solo's shirt. "But I'll need much more time with him alone to
conduct a full evaluation of your experiment."
Dr. Sykes sighed and reminded Gabriella. "Yes of
course. And I have an invasion of UNCLE
headquarters to plan. You'll get your
time Gabriella, but not until he has been proven trustworthy. Another two days....yes...that should be
adequate."
Gabriella leered at Napoleon. "Until then, darling. You
can't imagine the plans I have for you.
You'll be completely at my mercy, won't you? How delicious that will be."
Both Gabriella and Sykes turned to leave him alone for the
night. He was alone in the cold, dark,
and barren room with no one around, and nowhere to possibly go. There was nothing to look forward to but more
debilitating pain and whatever sadistic cruelty faced him with Gabriella. Could he really carry out an attack against
UNCLE, his colleagues, and friends? What
once felt unthinkable now seemed somewhat plausible. He couldn't fight the pain forever. Napoleon tried to give himself a pep
talk. Watch for an opportunity he told
himself. Wait for an opening. Hope for the cavalry. Napoleon felt his resolve weakening.
A day and a half later, Solo decided he would have to test
the limits of his pain endurance and the scope of the rTMS treatments. There was no other way to see if he could
survive refusing the orders of Dr. Edmund Sykes and Gabriella Massamino. Over
the last few days, he'd cooperated with everything asked of him and enjoyed
relief from all pain. It really had been
that easy. That afternoon, after Syke's
treatment, he was released from the chair and asked to return to his cell. Napoleon took a deep breath and hoped for the
best. Within seconds, he screamed and fell
to his knees from the piercing, torturesome pain. His screams continued as he writhed on the
floor in agony. Solo had never experience such intensity and it felt as if
someone was continuously stabbing his head with a serrated knife. His howls went on until his voice became
hoarse and then finally, blackness surrounded him into unconsciousness. Several of the Thrush guards went to carry
him back to his cell.
"No, no gentlemen, I should think not." The doctor said. "Leave him right here and call me as soon as
he starts to make any movement. Mr. Solo
has decided to make a stand. Let's see
how long he will last. I dare say I expected this sooner or later."
He shook his head
while looking at the collapsed agent and left the room. Within a half hour, he was called back as
Napoleon started to stir. Immediately
the room was again filled with anguished screams of UNCLE's CEA as he rolled
miserably on the bare floor unable to escape his suffering. Once again he passed out. Dr. Sykes got down on the
floor next to Solo waiting for him to awaken. As Solo started to come to, he once again
felt the inevitable stabs of misery.
"Please......." He gasped reaching for Sykes. "Please......stop it......stop it......"
"I'm afraid I can't, Mr. Solo. I don't have the faintest notion of how to
stop it." Sykes told him quietly. "There
is only one real way to stop it and you know what that is."
Solo's endurance was spent.
He could no longer tolerate the distress and hurt. His sense of hopelessness was complete. He only knew he had to end the pain however
he could. He stumbled to his feet and
staggered towards the cell, falling into it and landing face down on the
cot. Immediately his torment ended but
he laid panting and exhausted, tears rolling down his face. One of the Thrush agents went to close the
door but Sykes held up his hand.
"No need to lock the door gentlemen." He said. "Mr. Solo, please stay in your
quarters. Guards, let Miss Massamino
know Mr. Solo is ready for her. He won't
be giving us anymore trouble."
Napoleon slowly felt himself feeling human again. He was committed to following the directions
of his captors in actions but vowed to explore every other possible avenue of
resistance. He began with just the
thought of leaving his cell. There was no
pain. He imagined walking out of the
cell in great detail and was relieved that his head remained clear. Although he didn't exactly know how to take
advantage of this, he was comforted by the fact that there was at least one
place, his thoughts, they could not control him. There had to be some way to take advantage of
this. In the meantime, he needed to face
Gabriella. How to proceed? Solo went to one corner of the cell and
looked at one of the cameras.
"Dr. Sykes" he began. "May I speak to you please?" Solo would be deferential in every possible
way with the lunatic doctor. He would
give the man no reason to suspect he was anything but docile. Edmund Sykes entered the room and spoke.
"Yes, Mr. Solo." What
can I do for you?" he smiled.
"If I am to visit Miss Massamino, could I be allowed to
shower and put on some fresh clothing?" he asked.
Dr. Sykes seemed to enjoy having power over of his prisoner.
"Why yes, Mr. Solo, I think that is a wonderful idea. You may follow me down the hallway to shower
and shave. We have a small but
fashionable set of suits for you, custom tailored of course. You know, I am sorry that you have to deal
with Miss Massamino. I do believe the
cheese has totally slipped off her cracker."
"Yes, well, mine is not to question why.....so to speak."
Napoleon responded.
"An admirable attitude, Mr. Solo." Sykes answered. He pointed to a large bathroom area and
instructed Napoleon. "Now feel free to clean up and dress here. When you are finished, go directly up the
stairs on your left. Ms. Massamino is
waiting for you there. You may not leave
any of these two areas, understood?"
Solo nodded. "I understand, thank you." Dr. Sykes was apparently satisfied and
disappeared down the hall. Napoleon
entered the shower, stripped down and enjoyed the warm water flowing over
him. He took his time and tried to plan
a strategy for dealing with Gabriella.
Napoleon knew the woman was obsessed with him since he'd seduced her for
information in their first encounter.
She had been embarrassed and demoted by Thrush for her indiscretion and
weakness. But he knew her motives were
more than just revenge. She, like Sykes,
sought to control him, dominate him. But
Gabriella had flaws and Solo hoped to take advantage of them. The woman had an enormous ego and was vain to
excess. Napoleon planned to play to
those by being charming, polite, but most importantly, entirely
subservient. Hopefully he could minimize
the damage she had planned for this evening.
Napoleon would have to be careful, however. With a game plan in place,
Napoleon knotted his tie and slipped on his jacket inspecting himself in the
mirror. Not bad for having been beat to
hell over the past few days. He used a
splash of his preferred after shave which Dr. Sykes had conveniently supplied,
steeled himself for what awaited, and headed upstairs to Gabriella.
Solo knocked on the door and waited to be invited in. Gabriella called out to him to enter and the
beauty of her large bedroom took him slightly aback. Gabriella wore a stunning, sheer negligee
with a peignoir draped over her shoulders as she relaxed on the bed. Napoleon smiled sincerely and looked her over
with appreciative eyes. She was a
beautiful woman. Perhaps this would not
be so bad after all.
"My goodness, darling." She murmured. "You look absolutely
delectable this evening. All this for me?"
Solo produced his most boyish grin. "Thank you Gabriella. You look quite ravishing yourself." Napoleon intentionally stayed where he was, waiting
for her to begin the game.
"Go pour us some wine, dear. And we'll have it over here."
She patted the bed.
"I'll skip the wine if you don't mind, Gabriella. I've had a bit of a headache today." Napoleon
said.
"Hmmmmmmmm. So I
saw. Ugly little business with
Edmund. He is quite mad, I believe. Still, his little science fair project has
its advantages for me. Advantages I
fully intend to make full use of. Do
pour yourself a glass of wine, Napoleon....I insist that you have a drink with
me." Gabriella challenged.
"As you wish." Napoleon acknowledged.
The wine glasses were filled and Solo offered Gabriella her
glass as he sat next to her on the bed.
"You do seem to have quickly grasped the concept of this
whole little project, Napoleon." Gabriella said. "You are as intelligent as you are handsome."
"Yes, well, Gabriella....pain will do that to you. I know when I'm licked, in a sense." Napoleon
said looking deeply into her eyes. "Now, what can I do to please you this
evening? That is why I'm here, is it
not?"
"Patience, lover. We
have all night and I don't intend to waste a minute of it." Gabriella hissed
rubbing her hand up and down Napoleon's leg luxuriously. "First, I think you need to lose some of your
clothing. In fact, please stand up and
strip for me."
She commanded.
Napoleon rose and faced her as he removed his tie, jacket
and shirt. He finished by taking of
shoes, socks, pants, and briefs. He
stood naked before her and raised his arms slightly in acknowledgement of her
order.
"Yes. That's
nice. Let me see, now." She said
seductively as she circled him inspecting her prize. "Stay still now, Napoleon." Gabriella moved closer to him from behind
deftly stroking his ass, squeezing and rubbing each cheek at her leisure. Despite himself, Solo felt his heart pound
and groin stir. Gabriella noticed the
change in his breathing.
"You still have
feelings for me, don't you, Napoleon?" she smirked. "How nice."
"Who wouldn't?" he replied trying to gain control of
himself.
"Shhhhhhhhhhh." She whispered in his ear. "Don't move and don't make a sound."
Gabriella opened her negligee and pressed herself against
his back. She moved her hands around to
the front of his body and began stroking him lightly with her fingers starting
at his chest and moving down to his genitals.
Gabriella delicately stroked his penis with both hands and Napoleon had
to fight hard not to shiver from the contact.
Within a few minutes, she ended her play and rested her hands on his
hips while grinding herself into him from behind. Napoleon swallowed his gasps but could not
stop the beginnings of an erection.
Gabriella circled around to Napoleon's front dragging her hand from his
ass to his testicles, rolling them slightly in her hands and watching the
results of her handiwork. She stared at
his erect penis, nodding her head, smiling and leering.
"Very, very nice, my pet." She admired. "But I know we can
do much, much better than this. Perhaps
I'm being too hard on you by not letting you move. Lie down on the bed here, and let me make an
adjustment."
Solo moved onto the bed, grateful to have even a moment's
break from contact with the ruthless shrew.
He started to understand where this was going and braced himself for a
long night. Gabriella ordered him to a
spread-eagle position and took her time securing his arms and legs to the bedposts. She paused when tying each leg to kiss and
lick the inside of his thighs and finger his cock, keeping Solo aroused. When finished, she retrieved her glass of
wine and took a break to admire the visual of Solo tied helpless and naked to
the bed. The fun was just beginning.
Gabriella lay on her stomach on the large bed with her head
close to Napoleon's chest. Every so
often she would reach down and fondle him, teasing and tugging to make sure his
erection grew.
"Now Napoleon, dear." She taunted. "You may make all the
noise you want. In fact, I encourage
it. You won't be able to resist when I
start in on you. You may wiggle about
all you want...it might be the only relief you get tonight." Gabriella laughed straddling him and ran her
hands through her hair provocatively.
"And there are two more little rules for our game tonight. One, you must keep your eyes on me so you can
see every little thing I'm doing to you, and two, you may not come without my
permission."
Napoleon's eyes grew wide as he realized the predicament he
was in. He was about to be aroused to
the point of explosion yet to do so would cause him the same incredible pain he
experienced before Dr. Sykes. Gabriella
had planned well. His only hope was to
try to control his reactions to her and endure as long as he could. Gabriella wanted him to suffer. He'd had no
idea she'd meant something like this.
"You see, there is a challenge in this for me as well,
sweetheart." She said as she intermittently kissed and teased his mouth with
her tongue. "I must take you just to the very edge....so very close.....and then
leave you there. Again, and again. You'll have to hope I'm in a benevolent mood
when you beg to come, won't you, Napoleon?" she snickered.
For the next hour, Gabriella did exactly as she said she
would. Napoleon agonized and moaned as
she rhythmically stroked his penis to a harder erection, leaving him throbbing
from the contact. When taken to the
brink, she'd retrieve her glass of wine and watch Napoleon moan and
involuntarily thrust his hips upwards.
Just when he seemed to regain a semblance of composure, she'd assault
him again, biting his nipples and squeezing his shaft. Then she abruptly switched tactics.
"Watch me now, Napoleon.
I know you'll enjoy this."
Gabriella stood over him and slowly lowered herself onto his erection. His head flew back and he wailed over the
sensation. She pressed him further by
slowly rocking back and forth on him, obviously enjoying the spectacle she'd created. When he was close to bursting, she rolled off
him and laughed at his frustration.
"Poor Napoleon." She said dramatically while once again
fingering his cock.
"Gabriella......please." He pleaded.
She took her time, pouring herself another glass of wine as
Napoleon wiggled forlornly.
"Please what, darling?"
"Please let me come.....enough......please." he panted.
Gabriella lay back on the bed and whispered into Napoleon's
ear as she tongued him. "Oh no, sweetheart.
It's much too soon and I'm having such a good time tormenting you this
way. I can't remember when I've had a
better time."
Gabriella returned to her "work" with a vengeance. "Look, darling. My wetness is all over your cock." She said, tapping his engorged organ with her
finger. She smeared her natural juices
over his groin area, rubbing and jiggling his balls constantly. Finally, she began stroking his penis again,
up and down...slowly increasing speed until Napoleon cried out. Determined to keep him in a crazed state of
arousal, she switched tactics again.
"Now we'll see how you handle my mouth, lover. Watch me suck you!" she took him totally in
her mouth
"Gabriella........please.....let me come" he gasped.
"What's the magic word?" she gloated as she went back to
stroking his cock faster and faster.
"Alright......alright.....I'm begging you."
"Then yes, you may." She consented. Napoleon yowled as he instantaneously
ejaculated and experienced the orgasm that had been withheld for so long. His chest heaved as he fought for breath. His
entire body was bathed in sweat and he felt his head spinning inside. When at last his heart beat began to quiet
and he began to regain his senses, he looked to see Gabriella's face right next
to his, her fingers brushing across his lips.
"Now we'll play the game again." She announced.
Solo was awakened the next morning by a Thrush guard after
only an hour or so of sleep. The guard told him he was wanted in Dr. Sykes
office. He was alone in Gabriella's bed
and thankfully she was nowhere to be seen.
He felt like he'd been hit by a truck.
Solo asked for time to take a shower and let the soothing water wash
over his exhausted body. Gabriella had
left a note for him on the mirror.
"Darling. Be here
again tonight at 7:00 pm and don't be a minute late. I have a new game for us to play and I'm sure
you'll enjoy it."
Christ!
He dressed and followed the guard downstairs to an office
door and abruptly the guard disappeared.
He knocked and heard the doctor invite him in. What he saw upon entering the room shocked
him. Sykes was sitting in an exact
replica of Waverly's chair and his "office" was none other than a completely
accurate reconstruction of the UNCLE Chief's conference room at headquarters. Unbelievable!
He not only was in the hands of a nutcase, but his life was totally
dependent on a nutcase with a Waverly complex!
Solo entered the room and decided to see if it was possible to
manipulate this deranged man. If Sykes
really wanted to act like a Waverly wannabe, Solo would oblige.
"Please come in Mr. Solo." The doctor said.
"Yes, sir." Solo responded as he headed to a seat on the far
side of the room.
Sykes obviously enjoyed the way Solo addressed him. Point for Napoleon.
"I believe it's time we plan our first mission against UNCLE
headquarters. For your first assignment,
you will be required to infiltrate the New
York office, and obtain a document from the File 40
room." Sykes said dramatically.
"Yes, sir." Solo answered simply.
"You anticipate that you can complete this mission
successfully, then?" the doctor posed.
"Yes, sir. There
shouldn't be any problem. What kind of
document would you like?" Napoleon asked.
"Oh, I shouldn't think it matters. The point of this all is to disrupt the daily
business of UNCLE headquarters." Sykes explained.
"All right." Responded Solo. "I don't think there is a very
good likelihood of obtaining any significant data or codes. They undoubtedly are changing information on
a daily basis and have false data prepared."
"Oh, Mr. Solo? Do you
really think so?" Sykes was absorbed in
the conversation like a kid in a candy store.
Napoleon had already decided that his first "mission" against his
comrades would be a textbook operation.
He knew they would be prepared for him, but also had decided he would
avoid capture at all costs. He had to
get Sykes to become complacent and give Napoleon time to find a way out of this
mess.
"Yes sir. However, I
should think that if you consistently prove you can disrupt the operations of a
large UNCLE operational center, you might be able to once again get the
attention of Thrush Central, if that appeals to you." Solo suggested.
"I wouldn't mind that one bit, Mr. Solo. An inspired idea! Those bastards have belittled me for
years. This might enhance my status with
them immeasurably." Sykes chirped.
"Yes, sir." Solo paused. "Dr. Sykes....ah....permission to speak
freely, sir."
"Go ahead, Mr. Solo."
"Well sir, if you'd like me to be prepared for this
assignment any time soon, I wondered if I could be permitted to sleep for a
good 8 hours or so. Miss Massamino
preferred that I stay up with her through the night and......."
"Good gracious, Mr. Solo.
That simply won't do." The doctor pressed a button on the control panel
and instructed his secretary to inform Gabriella that Napoleon would not be available
that night. Point two for Solo.
"Thank you very much, sir." Solo said honestly.
"Not at all, Mr. Solo.
We can't have you going into the enemy's hands in anything less than top
shape." Sykes preached. "Now, do you
really foresee that we can breach UNCLE headquarters on a fairly regular
basis?"
"I do, sir. I know the security measures inside and out as
well as their tendencies during a security breech. They are fairly predictable." Napoleon
said. "There is a list of equipment I'll
need for this first mission. Should I
see someone else about that, sir?" Solo asked.
"No. Not at all, Mr.
Solo. I should like to be in on the
entire planning process from the beginning.
Anything that you need for this mission, I'll be happy to supply." The
doctor replied eagerly. They were
interrupted by Gabriella Massamino storming into the room with an angry scowl
on her face.
"Edmund......" she barked. "I will not have you interfering with
my plans for Mr. Solo this evening. Certain
arrangements have been made, and I will not be disappointed."
Sykes snapped back at her. "Bah! We have important business to attend to and I
can't have my agent's performance affected by the insignificant plans of a
meddlesome, raffish, tart."
"What?!" she shrieked.
"Edmund you promised me three nights and that's exactly what you will
give me!"
"Gabriella, can you not see that Mr. Solo and I are in the
middle of an important planning meeting for a mission that will be carried out
against UNCLE in less than 24 hours?" Sykes shouted. "I have no patience for
you're shenanigans....you are dismissed!"
How Waverly, Solo laughed to himself.
With Sykes facing Gabriella at the door and Napoleon
slightly behind him, he took the opportunity to smile broadly, bat his eyes
dramatically, and wave goodbye.
Gabriella fumed!
"Edmund, you idiot!
Can't you see he's playing you?" the Thrush dragon scolded.
"Miss Massamino. You are ordered to leave this office or I will
have you removed." The doctor said smugly.
Gabriella stomped her foot and huffed. Napoleon enjoyed it immensely. One screwball down and one to go, he thought
to himself. He gradually began to hope
there would be a good ending to this entirely bizarre affair. With Massamino out of the way, Solo turned
back to Sykes.
"If it is possible, sir, I'll be needing a small acetylene
torch, some bypass valves and electrical conduit, diagonal pliers, a homing
device, crampons and ascenders, scuba mask, fins and small oxygen tank for 2
minutes, plus a white cook's apron and hat." Solo explained.
Sykes was wide-eyed with excitement. "Excellent Mr. Solo! Delightful!
I should say they won't know what hit them. Now, you will explain your plan to me in
detail for approval before we go any further."
"Yes sir." Napoleon complied. "Well, you see sir, UNCLE
headquarters security systems are not discreet..... they are more universal in
nature throughout the building." Sykes
looked confused. "What I mean is, sir, if one alarm goes off, the entire
building goes off. There is no way to tell
where the security problem is located.
The building goes into an overall lockdown. If the system were discreet, an alarm would
go off on the floor where a raid occurred and they could locate the source
immediately." Solo had often had this
argument with Waverly.
"Continue, Mr. Solo." Dr. Sykes encouraged.
"I plan to go in below the ground floors, and rewire the
security system into the upper floor alarms.
They won't notice any kind of power failure, and they won't be able to
detect me moving around below the main security office and File 40 room. There will be no alarm."
"Ingenious, yes I see, I see." Sykes said. "Now, what about the homing device, Mr.
Solo? That sounds rather irregular."
"Well, sir, I actually will be cutting into the main
security office which is directly next to the File 40 room. When I'm ready to go into File 40, I'll
activate an alarm. All of the security
forces will initially be drawn into the main corridors. I hope to plant a homing device on the head
of security as he leaves the room. That
way I can keep track of where he is at all times." This was a bald-faced lie but Solo was on a
roll and the doctor was buying it hook line and sinker.
"You mean you are going to infiltrate UNCLE headquarters by
going right through the main security office?"
Sykes was amazed.
"Yes, sir." Solo
responded. "Unless you have a different way you'd like me to proceed?"
"No, no...Mr. Solo...this is quite bold and magnificent! I applaud you." the doctor gushed. Over the next hour, Napoleon explained his
entire plan to Sykes, most of which was accurate. He did plan to get in to the File 40 room and
remove a file but he was certain it would be nothing of critical importance. After reviewing the plans, Sykes addressed
Solo for some final instructions.
"Now, Mr. Solo, there are some things you must understand
about this first assignment." He began. "First, at no time are you to make
contact any UNCLE personnel while on this mission. You will not leave any messages or clues
behind either direct or implied. You
will resist any attempt of capture at all costs. You will check yourself for
any homing devices before you exit the building and destroy them. You will wear an ear piece radio so that I
may give you additional orders if necessary.
Any and all discharges of your weapon will be directed only at UNCLE
employees. You will be blindfolded when
you leave here and it will take approximately 2 hours for you to be dropped at
your insertion point. Afterwards, you
will meet a pick-up team and be returned here, also blindfolded. You are to follow the orders of your pick-up
team to the letter. I warn you that any
deviation from these instructions will be catastrophic for you, as you have
already experienced.
"Yes, sir, you've made that very clear." Solo looked down
and paused. "Sir, there is one other
thing, if I may." Napoleon desperately
hoped the doctor could be persuaded into his next request.
"Yes?"
"Sir, I know I am in no position to bargain or make
requests...but I wondered for this mission if I might be allowed to carry darts
in my weapon instead of bullets." Solo
asked softly.
"Oh good grief, Mr. Solo, must you insist on being on being
so utterly humanitarian?" Sykes snorted.
"Perhaps my next experiment will provide me a way to remove that
unfortunate tendency all together. Very
well, for this mission only, you may use darts. But let me caution you, one
slip up on this mission and you will go from being an infiltrator to an
assassin in the blink of an eye. Now, I do have a more comfortable room for you
next to my office here where you can get some rest. Meals will be delivered to you there. While your supplies are being collected and
prepared, you are restricted to quarters.
Is that clear, Mr. Solo?
"Yes, sir. Thank you
sir." Solo replied.
"You'll leave tomorrow morning. Dismissed."
Illya Kuryakin left Waverly's office for the third time that
day. Three times a day, he briefed his
boss on the constant revision of codes, reclassification of documents,
production of fake data, and security preparations for the eventual arrival of
Napoleon Solo. Everyone had been on
edge. Kuryakin was acting CEA and in
charge of preparing headquarters to battle perhaps their greatest agent. Illya did not look forward to the encounter
and additionally, felt anxious and disturbed about the condition they might
find Napoleon in. UNCLE headquarters increased
security personnel by 30%, ran three security tests a day, and developed a
medical plan when they contained Solo.
Illya was irritable and agents avoided him like the plague. He felt totally out of control, helpless to
help his friend, and the end result had him pacing the corridors like an angry
lion, ready to explode. UNCLE's Chief
Medical Officer, Dr. Elizabeth Ray, had a crew prepared to sedate Napoleon, get
him strapped down on a gurney as quickly as possible, and conduct a series of
scans to hopefully determine how to undo whatever damage Dr. Edmund Sykes had
inflicted. Privately, she was very
concerned. They had no experience with
the alternation of cranial neurons through the use of magnetic stimulation. How would they ever begin? What would become of Napoleon if they could
not find a way to reverse the process?
The responsibility wore on her nerves.
Chief of Security, Dane Bechette, felt confident they were
ready. He had consulted every day with
Waverly and Kuryakin and all of his guards were prepared. The difficulty was not knowing what to
expect. Would Solo come in aggressively,
shooting to kill? Would he plant
explosives, use toxic gas, or would he somehow find a way to turn himself over
to them? Headquarters had definitely
been disrupted and Waverly was fit to be tied.
He wanted this ended and ended quickly.
Waiting was the hardest part.
Everyone struggled with their emotions over what it would be like if
they came face to face with their much beloved colleague who might have now
become the enemy. It was a strain on
everyone.
At about 2:00, the UNCLE alarms went off once again. Agents moved to assigned areas quickly and
kept their eyes open. Bechette's voice
came through the public address system ordering all resources to the upper
floors, Alpha search pattern. It suddenly
occurred to everyone that this might not be a drill. Kuryakin led a small squad into the computer
rooms which had been designated as a high priority target on the 4th
floor. Before they finished sweeping the
area, Bechette ordered all teams up to six.
Kuryakin's squad split to opposite ends of the hallways before heading
upstairs. The 6th floor was
teeming with agents, all clearing rooms with speed and efficiency. Nothing.
UNCLE's Chief of Security came on ordering agents to a Delta
search pattern on the 7th floor.
Illya paused, thinking this through.
So far they had uncovered nothing and it was unusual to switch search
patterns in the middle of an operation. No
one was searching the lower levels. Agents
headed to the elevators and stairs but Illya stopped, having the very certain
feeling that something wasn't quite right.
He opened his communicator and tried to reach the security office. No response.
Kuryakin headed downstairs towards the security center. He heard the next order commanding security
to the 9th floor. He stopped
cold, cocked his head listening and swore softly to himself. The voice on the intercom was disguised, but
it was definitely Napoleon's! Illya made
it down to the main floor which was quiet and empty of UNCLE agents. He moved in front of the automatic door but
it would not open. Illya's heart was
pounding as he prepared to face his best friend who might be more than ready to
kill him. He planted a small plastic explosive
on the door and ignited it. The door
slipped open and Kuryakin burst into the room.
He saw Dane Bichette tied up in the corner with duct tape across his
mouth and a hole two feet in diameter cut into the File 40 room. Before freeing the security chief, he got on
the PA system and ordered all forces to sub-floor A and B. He felt foolish that Napoleon himself had
directed their forces in the opposite direction of where he was now escaping. They'd been duped. Before long, the floors underneath
headquarters were being flooded with agents.
Illya directed traffic and ordered security to contact him directly if
Solo was sighted. Within a minute, his
communicator beeped and Illya answered ready to contain Napoleon.
"Sir. Mr. Kuryakin,
sir." A young agent spoke excitedly. "We
just spotted him, sir. He's headed
downstairs into the east side of the generator rooms."
"Go after him and keep me posted." Illya called back. He
moved to intercept any team he could find and direct them downward in a pattern
that would trap Solo and cut off any exits he might be seeking. Before heading down himself, he called
Waverly with an update.
"He's been spotted down below near the generators. We're proceeding down there now and have 10
teams converging on him, sir." Kuryakin
reported.
"Proceed, Mr. Kuryakin.
Keep me posted. I'll direct Dr.
Ray's team down to your location.
Waverly, out."
Illya wound his way through the air conditioning system
rooms and hoped to get ahead of Napoleon by crawling through some duct work and
dropping below to the bomb detonation station.
He waited at the end of the hallway so that no one could come in behind
him. Again, the communicator activated.
"Sir, Solo's been spotted again, still headed down and now
at the north end of storage sections V and W.
He's headed your way, Mr. Kuryakin."
Illya knew his friend was running out of room and squatted
down waiting for him to turn the corner.
Sure enough, Napoleon appeared sprinting down the hallway before seeing
Illya and skidding to a stop. The two
agents made direct eye contact before Napoleon screamed, doubled over, and
pressed hands to his head. Before
Kuryakin could respond, Solo turned and ran, ducking into the bomb detonation
station. A door closed behind him. Illya waited for additional personnel before
attempting to go in. There was no rush
now. There was only one way in and one
way out of that particular room. They
had him. Illya opened his communicator
and contacted Waverly.
"Sir, we have Mr. Solo trapped in
the bomb detonation room and are awaiting additional agents before we go
in. Could you get the people from medical
down here before we move?" he asked.
"They are on their way as we speak, Mr. Kuryakin." Waverly
responded. "Please proceed with extreme
caution. With him cornered inside,
there's no telling how he may respond.
Protect yourself at all times."
"Yes, sir. I'll let
you know as soon as we have him secured.
I'll be accompanying him to medical and will meet you there. Kuryakin, out." The Russian replied.
Illya instructed a group of ten security agents on the
procedure. They would activate the door
and block it open. No one would go in
until they could determine the fire power Solo was using. Only on Kuryakin's signal would they move in. When the medical team arrived, he signaled
his team and the door slid open. No shots
came. Illya listened hoping to hear
something that might indicate what part of the room Napoleon was in. Hearing nothing, he called out to Solo.
"Napoleon." He said.
"You know there is only one exit to this room. Slide your gun out, get on your knees, and
put your hands on top of your head. We
don't want to hurt you."
Solo would not make it easy on them. Illya motioned the team to get ready on his
count. He took a deep breath and slid
into the room flat on his stomach, preparing to take Napoleon down. The other agents followed him quickly
pointing their weapons in every direction.
There was silence for an instant and then the small area was searched
quickly. There really was nowhere to
hide. The UNCLE men rose slowly and
scanned the room. It was empty! Solo had seemingly disappeared into thin air. The stunned group wandered the room, looking
for anything that could explain it.
Illya folded his arms and tried to think.
"I don't understand it, Mr. Kuryakin. Where did he go?" asked one of the men.
Illya ignored him briefly, trying to solve the mystery for
all of them. He stood silent for a
moment before having his attention drawn to the water where explosives were
placed and sunk for detonation.
Incredibly, he noticed bubbles floating to the top. He placed his hands on the concrete edge of
the detonation unit and shook his head.
An agent looked at the bubbles and spoke to Illya.
"Sir? I don't get it.
What does it mean?" the agent wondered.
"I'll tell you what it means. Mr. Solo submerged here and is surfacing
somewhere in New York
harbor as we speak!" Illya snapped. "We
lost him."
Napoleon was returned to Dr. Edmund Syke's operating center
and was pleased with what had transpired.
He dumped several folders of irrelevant information onto the doctor's
conference room and Sykes's was delighted with the markings on the folders such
as "Waverly's eyes only," "top secret" and "high priority." Napoleon was granted even more liberties
around the building and began a careful study of the doctor's schedule and work
habits. This would be critical to
planning his ultimate escape from Sykes.
Sykes seemed
currently focused on the use of rTMS in his lab animals but met with Napoleon
about an hour each evening to plan his next assignment due to begin in two more
days. Solo had given the doctor a
meaningless list of supplies and fabricated a wild story about his next plan to
infiltrate UNCLE which he had no intention of using. The night before he was to leave, he took out
the homing device Sykes had originally given him for the first mission and
planted it under his bunk. He activated
the Thrush device and hoped that he would live to see it again.
This next mission would be a one way trip. He'd noticed that since the first attack on
UNCLE headquarters, Dr. Sykes had not been down to the treatment room where he
had worked on Solo. Napoleon's plan was
to slip downstairs before he was deployed and hide the rTMS
device in a backpack, in place of the gear he had requested from Sykes. He'd have to hope for luck that no one noticed
the device missing before UNCLE's people snagged him
and hopefully sedated him. With the rTMS device in UNCLE's hands, he'd hoped his colleagues
could figure out some kind of reversal process.
His only other hope was that Illya could somehow decipher a message he
had deliberately left for him well over a week ago. Solo was confident he would. Napoleon knew he'd have to remain unconscious
until they found a way to reverse the process.
There were no other options. He'd
committed to putting himself in his friend's hands and trusting his life to
them. He refused to think about any
other possibility other than success.
Otherwise, it was a long sleep.
Sykes had ordered this to be a night attack which he would
again monitor from a headset that Napoleon wore. If Sykes called because the rTMS device was
noticed missing, he'd have to rip the headset off and hope that someone could
help him in time before the excruciating pain ripped him to shreds. The timing had to be perfect. He was risking everything.
Alexander Waverly pushed a blinking light on his console and
sighed deeply. The woman at the agent's
entrance was calling.
"Yes, Miss Emerson, what is it?"
"Sir.....um....." she stammered.
"Well, what is it?" Waverly snapped at her.
"Um........sir......it's Mr. Solo....um, he's right here. He.......he has a gun....and.....um...he says he
is.....um.....can you send someone down, sir?"
Waverly disconnected the call and immediately paged
Kuryakin, two security units, and the medical staff to the agent's
entrance. Illya sprinted to the area
while drawing his weapon. He was sure
Napoleon was attempting to reach out in whatever way he could. He entered the security area just in time to
see Napoleon pull off some kind of device from his head. Solo immediately screamed in agony, his gun
dropping to the floor. His shouts and
shrieks continued as he slammed into a wall and fell to his knees. As Illya and the security forces moved
towards him, he launched himself at them fighting and straining against every
effort to subdue him. His tortuous
shouts of pain continued as they pinned him to the ground. Illya called for the medical unit to join
them fast. Dr. Ray was ahead of the rest
of them and knelt next to Solo injecting him with a drug that would knock him
out in 30 seconds. He continued to
struggle as the drug took hold, crying out to those in the room who were
shocked at the agony Napoleon was enduring.
Thankfully, he eventually became still and silent. Dr. Elizabeth Ray waved in the medics and
Solo was lifted up and placed on a gurney.
The medics used numerous straps to secure him and within seconds they
had whisked Napoleon away to the medical unit.
Illya ran with them as he grabbed Solo's pack and took out the strange
looking device contained inside. As he
ran along with Napoleon, he handed off the device to an agent and ordered him
to get it to the science lab, quickly.
As soon as he saw Solo settled in medical, he planned to examine the
gadget himself.
"Hang on, Napoleon." He whispered to no one in particular.
Napoleon Solo laid quietly in a security cell of UNCLE's medical unit for 3 days. An IV steadily administered drugs to keep him
unconscious as almost every section of UNCLE worked to understand and decipher
the rTMS device Solo had put in their hands. Plenty of theories existed. Research submitted the idea of magnetic
separators and depolarizing. The science
crew had experimented with creating magnetic dipoles and ferromagnetic
programming. The damn problem was
anything they would try would be an experiment and no one knew what the effect
would be on Solo's brain. To completely
research and test any of their theories would take months if not a year. They couldn't keep Solo sedated that
long. Eventually the impact of long term
sedation would be just as hazardous to him.
Illya, Dr. Ray, and Waverly met to discuss any and all possibilities and
nothing seemed to be a viable option.
Kuryakin worked to the point of exhaustion during the day and spent
nights sleeping in a reclined chair in Napoleon's cell. He stared at his best friend, brow furrowed,
as if he could somehow uncover a solution by osmosis. He had the feeling they were missing something. Illya reviewed everything Napoleon had done
ad nauseum and couldn't come up with any kind message from his friend that
might help them. Neither Waverly nor Dr.
Ray could convince him to leave Solo's side, so they made him as comfortable as
possible and had meals sent down to him that the Russian occasionally picked
over.
Dr. Ray suggested that they let Solo awaken, but keep a
large dose of morphine on board in hopes
he could somehow communicate with them without becoming disabled by pain. The amount of morphine needed to do this
however, left Solo completely incoherent and nothing had been gained.
That night, Illya
drifted off to sleep for an hour or two.
Somewhere after 3:00 a.m., he awoke with a start and stared at his partner
for a moment or two. He quickly grabbed
a pad of paper and started scribbling frantically across several pages before
jumping up, grabbing his jacket, and rushing upstairs to Waverly's office. As he ran by the nurse on duty, he asked her
to page both Waverly and Dr. Ray to the Chief's office. They assembled quickly, anxious to hear what
Kuryakin had discovered. The Russian
agent began excitedly.
"I've been over everything Napoleon did since being abducted
by Sykes." He started. "But I forgot to
take a look at what happened the day Sykes took him. Do you remember the last thing Napoleon
said?"
Waverly shook his head.
"I remember it seemed rather strange at the time...not
something he would normally say." Illya continued. "Now I think he was trying to tell us
something."
"Please, Mr. Kuryakin."
Waverly said. "Get to the point."
"Look.... here is what he said just as they were taking him
out." Kuryakin held up a notebook with Solo's words written on it.
ILLYA, MR. WAVERLY, RING ME UP SOMETIME.
Waverly looked puzzled.
"I don't see how this is any kind of message."
Illya quickly responded. "Sir, assuming it is some kind of
code, what is the first thing you would do to translate it?"
"You make all the letters lower case, take out the
punctuation, and run the words together." Waverly answered.
"Exactly." Illya said
eagerly. "Now look what we have."
illyamrwaverlyringmeupsometime
"Now what?" Mr. Waverly asked looking over the Russian's
shoulder with fascination.
"Now we experiment by adding a variety of breaks between
letters or cutting the sentence into different sections, and see what we come
up with." Illya told them.
"Illya." Dr. Ray
interrupted. "Cut to the chase will
you?"
"Right. When I took
out 5 words, leaving the middle part of the sentence in tact, look what I
got." He said holding the pad of paper
up for them. It was there clear as day.
Waverly
ring me
"Good God." The UNCLE Chief said.
Dr. Ray added. "That can't be, Illya. That's crazy.
Are you saying he was giving you a message about possible treatment
before Sykes ever did anything to him?"
"No, he couldn't have known that. But I do think it was an idea he had and when
you think about it, there is some logic to it."
Illya replied. "Napoleon knew he
would find a way back to us. And think
about what happens to every recruit when they pass survival school and are
first assigned to an UNCLE bureau? They
are conditioned to complete loyalty and in the case of the Waverly ring,
complete obedience. Napoleon just might
have thought it could work. At any rate,
do we have any other plan that is even somewhat feasible? At least we won't hurt him by trying the
ring."
The room was silent.
"Your recommendations, Mr. Kuryakin?" Waverly asked.
"I'd suggest you position the ring on him and Dr. Ray bring
him to consciousness. We take him
through the conditioning program he had as a new agent, but have a healthy dose
of morphine available should something go wrong." Illya suggested. "If I
remember, the conditioning program takes about 45 minutes. Do we know who conducted Mr. Solo's
conditioning session? Should I check with
personnel and records, sir?"
"No need, Mr. Kuryakin." Waverly smiled. "I conduct the
conditioning program of the number one graduate in each survival school class,
which includes you, young man."
Kuryakin returned the smile. "Of course, sir. I should have known."
Waverly turned to Dr. Ray.
"Elizabeth,
your recommendations?"
"Sir," she began. "I suggest we conduct the test up in
medical and have security guards present as a safety measure. I'll administer any medication if it is
needed. It would probably be wise for
Illya to be present as a stabilizing presence for Mr. Solo. And of course, you will need to position the
ring and conduct the conditioning session."
"Very well." The Chief responded. "Mr. Kuryakin, would you
stop by records and pick up a transcript of Mr. Solo's initial conditioning
program? I'll need to use the exact
codes and call letters that were used at that time." Kuryakin nodded and proceeded out of the
conference room.
The frustration and helplessness of the past two weeks
suddenly faded as Illya walked into personnel to pick up the transcript. Knowing Solo as well as he did, he was sure
this was the right course of action.
Illya and Napoleon had developed a sense of communication that was often
unsaid, but always understood. He had no
doubt he'd discovered the message Solo intended to get them all along. And now, they at least had something to try. Illya took a deep breath and headed to
medical, file in hand.
Several medics retrieved Solo from the security cell in
medical and wheeled him into one of the exam rooms. Dr. Ray was monitoring the agent's vitals and
had already started dialing back the liquid opiates in Solo's IV and checking
his pupils for responsiveness. Alexander
Waverly completed the procedure to affix the notorious Waverly ring on
Napoleon's hand. Illya was positioned at
the foot of Solo's bed waiting with as much patience as he could muster. Dr. Ray felt Solo's pulse and nodded to the
two.
"He should start waking up any time now." Elizabeth said.
Solo stirred and began moving his arms and legs. He moaned slightly and slowly rolled his head
back and forth. In a few seconds, he
opened his eyes and looked around trying to focus. He used his arms to try and raise himself and
immediately Illya and Elizabeth were at his side helping him sit up.
So far so good, Elizabeth
thought. "Napoleon, do you know where
you are? How do you feel?"
Without warning, Solo exploded out of the bed and knocked Elizabeth back against
the wall. A security guard advanced on
him and he quickly dispatched him with a kick in the stomach and karate chop to
the neck. He grabbed the security man's
gun and fled the room. In his haste, he
entered a connecting exam room and quickly found he had no exit. Still woozy from the drugs, he slumped
against the wall and sank to the floor.
Solo faced the open doorway and waited, gun raised, ready to defend
himself.
Illya and two other security guards moved towards the room
where Solo was and Waverly quickly checked on Dr. Ray. Before Kuryakin and his men could get into
the next room, Mr. Waverly ordered them to stop. His men looked at him with questioning eyes.
"I believe I'll handle this, gentlemen." He said.
"Sir?" Illya asked.
"The ring has already had an effect, Mr. Kuryakin. Mr. Solo is not currently experiencing any
pain. I believe the conditioning program
will help him re-orient to who he is." Waverly explained. "And I am the only
one who can do that."
Kuryakin protested. "Sir, you can't go in there. You don't know what he'll do. He has one of security's guns and you know
those are loaded with live ammunition.
We can't let you take that chance."
Waverly held up his hand.
"Gentlemen, I have complete confidence in Mr. Solo. I know he could
never shoot me no matter what the circumstances."
"Sir...." Dr. Ray began.
Waverly shook his head and moved towards the open doorway.
"Mr. Solo." He called out.
"I am Alexander Waverly of the United Network Command for Law and
Enforcement, Number one, Section one. I
am coming into the room alone. I am not
armed."
Waverly turned and stood right in the middle of the
doorway. Across the room, Solo still sat
on the floor, leaning up against the wall.
He held the gun out, pointing it at Waverly.
"Mr. Solo. Alexander
Waverly of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, Number one,
Section one." He repeated not
moving. Solo didn't move, didn't
speak. The gun shook slightly in his
hand. Waverly took a few small steps forward
and stopped.
"You are Napoleon Solo of the United Network Command for Law
and Enforcement." Waverly spoke.
"Survival school class A436.
Agent number 904412. Survival
school class A436. Agent number
904412. North American region, New York
Headquarters. North American region, New
York Headquarters."
Waverly stepped further into the room and was within 8 feet
of Solo. Napoleon continued to keep the
weapon trained on the old man but seemed more confused than hostile. Solo's eyes were locked onto the UNCLE
Chief. Waverly continued the conditioning
process from rote memory.
"Mr. Solo. Alexander
Waverly of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, Number one,
Section one. You are Napoleon Solo of
the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. Survival school class A436, agent number
904412, North American region, New York Headquarters. Code word:
tether. Code word: tether."
Solo looked up at him as Waverly came closer and knelt down,
keeping direct contact with Napoleon's eyes.
"Mr. Solo." He said softly extending his hand. "Give me the weapon, please. You're very tired and I need you to rest. Let me help you."
Napoleon hesitated, unsure.
"I will not hurt you.
Please, give me the gun, Mr. Solo." Waverly whispered soothingly. "Let me help you."
Napoleon continued to look into the eyes of Alexander
Waverly and started to lower the gun.
Finally, he placed it softly in the old man's hands, releasing his grip
but leaving his hand on top of it, connected to Waverly's.
"Thank you, Mr. Solo." Waverly smiled. "Now, let's have the
doctor take a look at you and get you some rest. All right?"
Illya appeared around the corner and between the two of them;
helped Solo to his feet and back into Dr. Ray's good care. Once again, Alexander Waverly had surprised
all of them with not only his courage and composure, but his unwavering belief
in his CEA. Kuryakin could only shake
his head in disbelief. The man was
simply amazing.
In ten short days, Solo was cleared for duty. He went through the conditioning process
three additional times and passed a battery of psychological tests with flying
colors. He was paged to Waverly's office by Lisa Rogers and arrived on time,
fit as a fiddle, and ready to put the whole miserable experience behind
him. UNCLE headquarters once again
hummed with activity and was firing on all cylinders. The sense of relief could be felt throughout
the entire building.
Solo grinned widely as he came into the conference room and
greeted both Waverly and Illya. After
being seated, Waverly put Solo's gun, communicator, and credentials on the
table and spun them around to him. He
then addressed them both.
"Gentlemen, now that everyone is back where they belong, I'd
like you to both take 3 days to catch up on reports. On Friday, I'll be sending you off to Seattle to look into a
matter at the Bell Harbor Marina. Miss
Rogers has the details. Oh, and Mr.
Solo, we're scheduled to meet with Mr. Bechette on security matters after
lunch."
"Sir." Napoleon began. "I wondered if Mr. Kuryakin and I might
take a day to attend to one final detail on this Affair before I write up the report."
"And what would that be, Mr. Solo?" Their boss inquired.
"Well sir, "he paused and looked at Kuryakin. "Illya, can you reprogram one of our homing
device frequencies to match one from Thrush?"
Illya deadpanned. "Child's play."
Napoleon smiled, inserted a clip into his UNCLE Special and
racked the slide with satisfaction. "Sir, I'd like to see a certain doctor
about a headache."
END
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