The Wayward Spy AffairThis is a featured page

Written By: NappiFan

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 so looking forward to 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 Sykes 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 clip, 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… 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.
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 ****, keeping Solo aroused. When finished, she retrieved her glass of wine and took a break to admire the visual of Solo tied helpless, aroused, 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 laugh as Napoleon moaned 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 ****.

“Gabriella……please.” He gasped.

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 ****.” 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 **** faster and faster.

“Alright……alright…..I’m begging you.”

"Not good enough, Napoleon. Tell me you'll do anything I say." Gabriella sneered.

Sweat poured down the UNCLE agent's forehead.

"Ok...... Gabriella please...I'll do whatever you say."

“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 some delightful company coming to play with you and a new game for us to enjoy.”


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.


“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 didn't occur to anyone 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.


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 quickly, 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 right here and swam out. He 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 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 before suffering the doctor's treatment. 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.

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……..” 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……he says he is……..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 sedate in a matter of 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 took his vitals and a blood sample as she waved in the medics. 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.


Waverly looked puzzled. “That's drabble.”

"Maybe not." 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.”


“I fail to see......” Mr. Waverly said 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 Sykes himself told us what he planned to do 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 his gurney 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?” Dr. Ray asked quietly.

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 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 took a deep breath and 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 now.”

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.

"That's it." Waverly encouraged. "That's right. Please let me have the gun, Mr. Solo. It's all right."

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.

Barely above a whisper, UNCLE's CEA whispered. "Yes, sir."

“Thank you, Mr. Solo.” Waverly smiled. “Now, let’s have the good 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.”

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Anonymous The Wayward Spy 0 May 31 2011, 3:33 PM EDT by Anonymous
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Whoa!! What a great story! You are really a wonderful writer and I have enjoyed all of your works so far. Can not wait to see what is coming next. Keep it up, you are one of the best!

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