Copyright April 2000

Chapter 1

When Illya found him, he thought he was dead. Napoleon was lying on a table in the laboratory, his head lolling sideways. Illya shook his partner gently, and then reached for his neck to check for a pulse. The pulse was there and seemed normal, but there was no response from Solo at all.

"Napoleon come on, open your eyes," Illya said louder than he should have considering they were still in a Thrush laboratory. He patted his partner’s cheek lightly.

Napoleon’s eyes popped open, but he was staring straight ahead with a vacant expression on his face that scared Illya half to death. Looking around the room, Illya spotted an intern still lying on the floor where he had just knocked him out. Running over to the unconscious body, Illya slapped the man hard across the face, bringing him swiftly back around.

"What did you give him?" Illya’s voice was low and deadly.

"I didn’t give him anything, it was the Doctor." The intern replied, his voice trembling with fear. Looking over towards the other body lying dead in a corner. "The Doctor gave him his mind sweep drug."

"Where’s the drug?" Illya had his hand on the man’s throat and began putting pressure on it.

"There is no more of it," the man gasped out, "The Doctor said he had the formula at Thrush headquarters and only made up a small sample to use here. He didn’t want you people getting a hold of it."

"What does the drug do?" Illya squeezed his hand a little tighter.

The intern choked gasping for breath as he tried to answer, "It’s supposed to leave the person totally susceptible to commands. He can’t use his mind to control his own body, he’ll do anything he’s instructed to do."

Illya almost strangled the man, "Where’s the antidote?"

"I don’t know anything else."

Illya hit him hard, knocking him back out. He ran back over to his friend, laying a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Napoleon, we have to get out of here. Get up and follow me."

Solo sat up, slid off the table and began walking behind his partner. He never looked left or right, just kept his eyes on his partner and walked.

Illya had killed the guards on his way in. Anyone else in the building must have decided it wasn’t worth their lives to stop the two men. They met with no resistance on their way out.

Napoleon followed every instruction Illya gave him, making getting him to headquarters very simple, however Illya got more and more worried as time passed and Solo remained catatonic.

Twenty minutes later Solo was lying on a bed in the medical section with the doctors going over him. Illya had watched them take numerous samples from the man and had seen no reaction at all. Not even a wince when the needle was pushed into his arm. Illya only left him to finally report in to Mr. Waverly who had been calling for him to report since they arrived at headquarters. Waverly kept him occupied for a good two hours until Doctor Morgan arrived in his office.

"Doctor?" Illya could tell by the look on his face that this was not good.

"I think we should go sit down," Frank said quietly.

Mr. Waverly waved them towards chairs, then settled himself down. "Yes Doctor," he said.

"We have a problem," the Doctor relayed quietly, "There is no sign of anything in Mr. Solo’s blood. We’ll be doing additional tests on all the samples, but we can’t find a trace of any type of drug."

"What does that mean Doctor?" Illya’s voice was very low.

"That means, we have no way of bringing him out of his fugue state. We don’t know what put him into it. We’ve tested him completely Mr. Kuryakin and if what you said is correct, he will do anything he is told to do, with no reaction."

"What is your recommendation, Doctor," Mr. Waverly’s voice was calm.

"I recommend we lock him up until we find a cure. If he got loose now, who knows what would happen if THRUSH got their hands on him." The Doctor refused to look at Illya, looking directly at Mr. Waverly the whole time he was talking. "We have access to a Sanitarium where we can keep him locked up and continue to run tests."

"Mr. Waverly," Illya interrupted, his voice rising in anger. "We can’t just lock Napoleon away. He needs to be where we can be with him every day to help him come back from this."

"Mr. Kuryakin, Illya, I know how you feel, but until we have some way to cure Mr. Solo, he would be better off in a safe, medically controlled facility."

Illya stood up suddenly interrupting Waverly, his voice angry, a tone he had never used with his boss before. "Sir, no! You can’t permit this to happen."

Waverly’s voice was just slightly raised, "Mr. Kuryakin I understand your concerns but I’m sorry I must agree with the Doctor, we cannot risk Mr. Solo falling into the wrong hands. Doctor Morgan, you make the arrangements, if nothing has changed in Mr. Solo’s condition within forty-eight hours, he will be transferred to the Sanitarium."

Illya didn’t bother saying anything else; he stormed out of the room and rushed back to the Medical section. "Napoleon," he said walking up to his friend, Solo hadn’t moved from the bed since he left him. "Napoleon, you have to come out of this." He took his friends hand and squeezed it. "Napoleon, look at me."

Solo’s eyes popped open and he looked directly at Illya, but there was still no expression on his face and no recognition in his eyes.

Frank Morgan walked back into the room alone, walking over to Solo’s bed. "Illya, I wish there was something else we could do," he said as he stopped next to Kuryakin.

Illya answered without looking at him, continuing to watch his friend. "Doctor, I’d like permission to see him as often as possible until you send him away, is that all right? I really think I might be able to help him come out of this."

"Illya, you know that will be okay. I’ll let all the others know you have permission to see Napoleon at any time." The Doctor was relieved to be off the hook.

Illya went to see Napoleon eight different times the following day. Checking out the schedules of the Doctors, getting everyone used to his being there and watching Security. There was no way he was going to permit his friend to be locked away, not as long as he was breathing. Napoleon had saved his life more times than he could count. He would find some way to help him.

Illya arranged to rent a car and a cabin in an out of the way area of California near a hospital run by a friend of his. He’d made reservations on a small airline and the only thing left to do was to sneak Napoleon out of U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters.

There was no one in Medical the next morning when Illya arrived. He walked over to the Doctor’s lounge and found Doctor Morgan sacked out on a couch. "I’m going to visit with Napoleon for a while Doctor, do you care if I take him to the Commissary?"

Morgan didn’t even open his eyes, "No problem, Illya, just let me know when you bring him back."

Illya walked over to Napoleon’s bed. He was in pajamas so Illya had to take the time to get him dressed. Leaning over his friend he whispered in Solo’s ear, "Napoleon, listen very carefully. You will listen to no one else but me. My voice is the only one that you will obey or respond to." He of course got no answer, but hoped his friend had heard him.

"Come with me Napoleon," Illya said quietly, "stay right beside me at all times, do not leave my side no matter what happens."

Illya walked casually out the door of Medical. Napoleon was beside him. Nobody seemed to notice anything wrong and he was able to walk right out the door with his friend. "Napoleon, if I start to run, you stay right with me." Illya didn’t even glance at his partner, he knew by instinct that the man was beside him.

Illya was surprised at how easy it was to get his partner out of U.N.C.L.E. headquarters, but knew it couldn’t last. U.N.C.L.E. would be hunting for them. He had removed all tracking devices from his equipment and had left his communicator at home. He’d converted as many assets as he could to cash and had transferred the money to a bank under an assumed name. Kuryakin didn’t know how long this would take, but he was prepared for the long haul.

Illya was able to hail a cab, loading Napoleon quickly into it, he had it take them to the bus stop closest to the airport. He knew Mr. Waverly would be able to track them down, but he was hoping it would take a little time before he found the small airline they were scheduled to fly out on. Illya also made reservations and picked up tickets on two other flights to two other states hoping to confuse the issue for a little longer.

Napoleon was no problem, he stayed right beside Illya the entire time, it was almost as if he was glued to his side.

They arrived at the cabin in California in the early evening. Illya was exhausted; it wasn’t just the traveling. Worry over his partner was destroying him. Napoleon had been beside him the entire way, but that made it worse because he never said a word or moved without instructions. Illya missed his partner and constant companion. He even missed the teasing and jokes, although he wouldn’t admit that to anyone else.

It took Kuryakin very little time to get settled in at the cabin. His friend had stocked all the supplies they would need. In addition to unloading the car and getting Napoleon settled, he had to check out the cabin for listening devices or booby traps. The whole time Illya was checking, he found himself talking to Napoleon about old cases and old times. It was then he realized how alone he really was.

"Well," at least Thrush nor Mr. Waverly has found us yet," Illya said out loud, "the room seems to be clear. Come with me Napoleon, I’ll put you to bed."

He took Napoleon’s arm and led him into the bedroom.

The following morning the two men arrived bright and early at the hospital run by Illya’s friend Doctor Allen Carter. Carter was waiting for them as Illya steered his friend into the building. "Good Morning Allen, thank you for your help getting the cabin ready." He said as he walked up to the man.

"Hello Illya," Carter replied, "I’m just sorry I couldn’t see you again under better circumstances. The two men shook hands, "Come on, I’ll take you straight to the lab." He turned abruptly and walked down the corridor.

Illya was puzzled by Carter’s strange attitude, they had been fairly good friends and his manner appeared just a little off. "Allen, is everything all right?" he asked as he steered Napoleon down the corridor.

"Everything’s fine, Illya," Carter responded quietly, changing the subject, "What happened to your friends mouth?"

Napoleon was sporting a large cut and bruise on his mouth.

"He fell last night while I was getting him settled," Illya didn’t seem to want to discuss it so Carter dropped the subject and continued on his way.

Carter led both men to the back of the hospital and stopped to let them pass as he opened a laboratory door for them. "Stay with me Napoleon," Illya said as he walked into the room, followed closely by his American partner.

They had barely made it into the room when Illya was grabbed from behind and a gun was shoved into his back. There were four men in the room. The one who appeared to be in charge walked over to Illya, reached under his jacket and grabbed his gun, pointing it at him.

The man turned to Allen; "You get out of here now and remember what we told you would happen if you tell anyone what you saw here."

Allen turned to Illya an anguished look on his face, "I’m sorry Illya, but they said they would kill my wife and kids, I just couldn’t risk it." he turned and walked swiftly out of the room.

"I take it you’re our local THRUSH representative," Illya said quietly, his eyes scanning the room, looking for options.

"I’d introduce myself, but you won’t be around long enough to bother with," the man replied nastily. The THRUSH leader turned to Napoleon, "Mr. Solo, take this gun," he said putting Illya’s gun in Napoleon’s hand. "Shoot him," he said with deadly venom in his voice, pointing at Illya.

Illya didn’t have a chance to say a word. Napoleon pointed the gun at his chest and pulled the trigger twice. Blood appeared on Illya’s shirt as he fell to the ground. He never saw the men grab Napoleon and walk him out the door.

It was twenty minutes before Illya regained consciousness. He cautiously opened one eye to a slit to be sure he was alone in the room, before rolling over and standing up. Looking down at the mess on his shirt, he reached underneath to pull out the empty blood capsules, then pulled out his communicator, "Open Channel D," he said quietly.

Mr. Waverly’s voice came right back, "Well, Mr. Kuryakin, I take it our plan worked."

Illya’s voice was still quiet, "Yes Sir, they have Napoleon. Now what?"

"Come back in Mr. Kuryakin, I’ll explain the rest of the plan and we’ll wait to hear from Mr. Solo together."

"What about Allen and his family? Illya asked worridly.

"They’re fine Mr. Kuryakin. Their Thrush captors are in custody. Close Channel D. "Waverly signed off.

Illya walked slowly out to his car and drove back to the cabin to clean up and get changed, all the while thinking back to the events of the night before.

They had arrived in the bedroom and Illya had gone to get Napoleon’s pajamas out of his suitcase when he heard a noise behind him.

Napoleon was reaching into his eye’s pulling out a set of opaque contact lenses. "Boy, I’m glad that’s over," he said, relief in his voice, turning to look at his partner a contrite look on his face.

Illya’s gasp was very loud, "Napoleon?"

"Illya, I’m sorr….." Solo started.

He got no further, his friend and partner of many years, punched him in the mouth. Napoleon hit the ground hard looking up at his friend, "Okay, I guess I had that one coming. But, I really am sorry. I told Mr. Waverly we could tell you what was going on but he said no."

Illya’s tone was angry, his expression concrete. "This entire thing was a fake. You’ve been all right the whole time?" He stormed to the other side of the room, turning to throw his partner a look of fury.

"No Illya," Napoleon replied cautiously, "I was catatonic when you took me into Medical. It wore off about a half hour after we arrived at headquarters." Solo stood up lightly brushing himself off.

"I threw away my career and risked my life for you and it was all for nothing?" you could not only hear the anger in Illya’s voice, his face was so hard if it had been any one but Napoleon, they probably would have been afraid for their life.

"Illya, I’m sorry, I was under orders from Mr. Waverly. I told him we could tell you, but he wanted the emotion to be natural." Solo walked over to stand in front of his friend, looking directly into the angry eyes. He knew what you would do when he ordered me put away and counted on you to get me out of there. I had no choice, he ordered me not to tell you until we were sure the cabin was clear." Napoleon’s voice was low and his tone contrite, "I’m sorry, it wasn’t for nothing, I needed you." He held his hand out to his friend.

Illya looked at his partner’s hand; you could see the thoughts going through his mind. His face brightened as he made his decision. He took Napoleon’s hand then pulled him into a firm hug. "God, I thought I’d lost you," he said with a great deal of emotion. He released his friend after a minute embarrassed at his reaction then looked him in the eye. "Okay, give, what’s going on?"

Napoleon sat down and explained to him how Mr. Waverly had approached him in medical and told him of information they had received that the new mind sweep drug was going to be used to commit high level assassinations. That an important assassination was in the works as soon as THRUSH was able to confirm that the drug was working effectively.

Mr. Waverly had assigned him the task of going undercover to be used as the assassin; to try to find out who the target was and to make sure the drug was shown to be ineffective.

When he finished his explanation, Napoleon stopped and looked at his partner," Illya, I am sorry, I was under orders. You know I didn’t like them, but I was given no choice in the matter."

Illya looked at him, a concerned look on his face. "Napoleon, who’s going to back you up while you’re in Thrush’s hands?"

Solo looked at him strangely. There was a long pause. "I’ll attempt to get a message to you as soon as I know which direction we’re headed. But, there are no guarantees, you may not hear from me until the day of the assassination." He paused a second then continued. "I’m going in alone."

Illya’s expression returned to granite.

Illya didn’t leave U.N.C.L.E. headquarters for the next forty-eight hours. He slept very little, ate hardly anything and lived in the communications center. Which was where he was when a message finally came over. It was a short message, 112RX, it was their code. Illya knew where he had to go, he also knew the RX meant Napoleon was hurt.

Illya stopped long enough to grab a first aid kit and report to Mr. Waverly on his way out of headquarters. "I just received a message from Napoleon sir, I’m heading for the Bishop Hotel. I’ll report in as soon as I’ve made contact." He paused for a second a worried look passing across his face; "He’s injured sir."

Mr. Waverly looked at him with his usual calm expression; "I’ll wait to hear from you Mr. Kuryakin. Just be careful you don’t blow his cover and let me know if you need additional medical assistance."

Illya rushed out of U.N.C.L.E. headquarters and made it to the Bishop Hotel in less than 30 minutes. He snuck quickly up the back staircase, letting himself into room 112 with a key he and Napoleon had prearranged just in case of such an emergency. Opening the door Illya slipped quickly into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

Solo was lying on the bed, on his stomach, not moving.

"Napoleon," Illya said fearfully. There was no answer, "Napoleon," he ran over to the bed. His friend wasn’t moving at all. Illya reached to slide his arms around his friend and carefully turned him over.

A low moan came from Napoleon as he rolled onto his back.

"Napoleon," Illya said again reaching up to lightly tap Solo’s cheek, "Can you hear me? How badly are you hurt?"

Napoleon moaned again, his face was bruised and bloody. He had been badly beaten. Illya put his arm around the broad shoulders and lifted his partner to a sitting position. He easily slid Napoleon’s jacket off, his shirt was torn and bloody also. "Napoleon, what happened? Did they find out the drug didn’t work?" Illya’s voice was deep with concern. He reached into the first aid kit he had brought with him and pulled out a package of ammonia, opening it and placing it under his partner’s nostrils. "Napoleon, you have to hear me."

Illya carefully lifted his partner off the bed and putting his arm around his shoulders gently walked him into the bathroom and after pulling his clothes off, helped him into the shower. Holding Solo up with one arm Illya reached in to turn the water on. "Napoleon," he said a little more urgently. " He gently scrubbed the numerous wounds on his friend, discovering at least twelve small stab wounds in Napoleon’s back as well as cuts, bruises and contusions covering the rest of his body.

After slapping Solo lightly across the face a couple of times, while holding him under the water, Illya breathed a small sigh of relief as Napoleon seemed to be coming back to full consciousness.

Solo raised his head slowly, turning to look at his friend and giving a small, painful laugh, "Hi partner, how you doing?" He said his voice slurring just a little bit.

Illya looked at Solo, worry showing on his face, "I should be asking you that question, don’t you think? What happened, is your cover blown?"

Napoleon attempted another laugh, it came out more of a low moan, "No, our Thrush friends just decided to test their drug out and see how effective it really is."

Illya almost lifted his friend out of the shower, helping him to dry off and putting a robe on him. "You mean they did this just to test and see if you were catatonic?"

"That’s about the size of it partner," Came the reply as Solo started towards the door, stopping when he swayed dangerously.

Illya caught him putting his arm back around his friend’s shoulders, keeping him on his feet, a look of horror passing over his face as he realized what his friend meant. "You had to just stand there while they did this…"

Napoleon seeing the look on his partner’s face, interrupted him, "Illya, it’s okay. It’s not something I’d like to do everyday, but I survived it. Now help me into the other room and let’s go over the mission.

Placing Napoleon’s arm around his own shoulders. Illya led him back over to the bed and lowered his friend gently down to sit on the edge of the bed. "Lie down Napoleon," he said quietly reaching over to help ease his partner back to a laying position on the bed.

Solo shook his head reaching to stop Illya with a light touch to his arm. "They gave me a tape recorder to listen to before I leave, it’s over on the dresser."

Kuryakin released his hold on his friend and walked over to the dresser. Picking up the tape recorder he walked back over to the bed and sat down beside his partner. "Do you know where you’re supposed to go?" He asked as he reached to turn on the tape recorder.

"Not yet, the only part I listened to so far told me to get a hotel room then turn on the recorder again after I checked in." Solo replied shifting on the bed, holding back a moan as he leaned up against the wall. They both listened intently as the recording began, recognizing the voice as the Thrush leader who had kidnapped Napoleon from the hospital.

"Mr. Solo. " The voice began, "At 3:00 this afternoon you will go to the United Nations building. You will use your U.N.C.L.E. ID to enter and go straight to the second floor. Where you will be met by a man in a blue suit. He will have additional instructions for you."

The recording ended abruptly.

Illya looked at his watch then looked back over to his partner. "It’s noon now, that gives you time to rest." He reached down to the bottom of the bed and pulled a blanket up over his partner after helping him lay back down. "Sleep for a while Napoleon," Kuryakin said quietly as he stood up and walked over to a small chair. He sat down; "I’ll keep watch and make sure you’re awake in time."

Solo met his friend’s eyes for a second a look of gratitude on his face, before allowing himself to relax back onto the bed. He was asleep within seconds.

At exactly three o’clock Napoleon Solo walked through the doors of the United Nations building. Without looking left or right he showed his identification at the door and continued in, heading up the stairs to the second floor.

Illya was standing on the landing of the second floor as he walked by. There was no acknowledgment between them, but both knew the other was there.

Solo walked slowly past his partner and began surreptitiously scanning the crowd in front of him for a man in a blue suit. Not seeing anyone he turned and examined both sides of the room. There was still no sign of the man. He turned back to the direction he’d just come, looking for his partner. There was no sign of Illya anywhere in the room. His partner had vanished.

Napoleon walked quickly back to the stairs and was just starting down them when he felt something being pressed roughly into his back.

"Keep walking Solo," came a nasty voice.

The gun was shoved cruelly into Solo’s sore back, making him wince. He walked down the stairs and across the main entry hall, continuing into a small office. Napoleon never said a single word; he just followed the directions of the man with the gun.

Walking in through the open door, Napoleon continued to walk until the man holding the gun on him finally said, "Stop."

Solo froze immediately, staying in his act of being under the control of the Thrush drug. He looked neither left or right and stood there waiting for further instructions.

A familiar voice came from his side. "Good day Mr. Solo. You can stop the charade now, we know the drug only works for a short time." The Thrush leader who had originally kidnapped Solo stepped in front of him, turning to look at the gunman. "Get back in the hall and keep an eye on the other U.N.C.L.E. agent. Report in as soon as he’s in position."

The Thrush gunman opened the door and slipped back into the entry hall, closing the door tightly behind him.

The Thrush leader pulled a gun as his assistant walked out the door. He kept it pointed at Solo’s head, "I’m serious Solo, either drop the act or I’ll shoot you this instant.

Napoleon, realizing the jig was up dropped casually into a chair, "what a surprise, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Although I have to admit, our last meeting was very memorable."

The Thrush leader laughed maniacally, "Mr. Solo, I have to admit I was impressed with your stamina. I had bets with my men that there was no way you could keep up the act under their torture." He smiled evilly at Solo, "I was not very happy to have to pay them off."

Napoleon kept his expression calm; "sorry I was such a disappointment to you.

"Oh Mr. Solo, any disappointment I suffered will be taken care of when your partner finishes your job for you."

Solo stiffened, his expression turning to concrete. "My job?" He kept his tone calm. "You’ve drugged Illya with that mind sweeper drug?"

The Thrush leader moved nearer, keeping the gun pointed at Solo’s head. "Your partner is currently on his way to shoot the Secretary General of the United Nations. As soon as it comes out that U.N.C.L.E. is behind the assassination, your organization will be finished in the world and even if he doesn’t shoot the Secretary General, his backup plan is to kill you." He laughed viciously, "either way you and your partner will be finished in U.N.C.L.E." He laughed again as his finger tightened on the trigger. "But, now I get the pleasure of killing you and there’s no one to stop your partner."

Napoleon, knowing he was out of options, leapt out of the chair, grabbing the gun with his left hand and pulling it sideways, he threw a punch with his right hand, catching the Thrush leader off guard and hitting him flush on the jaw. The man dropped to the floor, the force of the punch knocking him unconscious.

Shoving the gun into the waistband of his pants, Napoleon ran for the entry hall, pulling out his communicator as he ran. "Open Channel D."

Waverly’s voice came back immediately, "yes Mr. Solo?"

Solo ran in the direction of the main meeting room, "Sir, Illya’s been given the mind sweep drug by Thrush. They’ve sent him to kill the Secretary General of the United Nations."

Waverly’s voice was now tense, "Mr. Solo, it is imperative that you stop him. If U.N.C.L.E. is blamed for the assassination of the Secretary General, it could be catastrophic."

Napoleon entered the main meeting room, flashing his I.D. to get past the guards and began scanning the room for his partner. "I’ll find Illya sir. He won’t go through with it."

"Mr. Solo." Waverly interrupted, "You will stop Mr. Kuryakin, no matter what it takes. Even if you must shoot him to do it. Do you understand?"

Solo froze, hearing the command from his superior. Knowing that arguing was useless he answered, "Yes sir, but Illya will not do it. Close Channel D." Napoleon put his communicator away and continued walking up the aisle of the meeting room, scanning all directions watching for both Illya and his Thrush guard.

Solo spotted the Thrush gunman, also scanning the room. The man was looking the other direction and hadn’t seen Napoleon yet.

Napoleon walked right up behind the gunman, shoving his gun hard into the mans back. "Your turn my friend," he said his voice granite, "now start moving."

Solo walked the man out of the meeting room, turning him over to the guard at the door. He flashed his ID to the guard, "this man is an attempted assassin, hold him until I get back." Napoleon didn’t wait for any questions, he turned quickly heading back into the meeting room to find his partner.

Napoleon had been scanning the United Nations meeting room for twenty minutes, it was getting more and more difficult to see as the room began filling up with people getting seated for the speech by the Secretary General. He was just moving back up the center aisle when a flash of blonde hair caught his attention on the far side of the room.

Illya was moving slowly in the direction of the stage. He walked up the steps leading to the curtain, flashing his U.N.C.L.E. ID to gain access to the secure area.

Solo hurried as quickly as he could across the room and followed his partner up the steps to the back stage area behind the curtain, being careful not to attract the guards attention. He wanted no one else involved in his attempt to stop the young Russian.

Illya was standing behind the large curtain, watching the stage area, waiting for the arrival of the Secretary General. His eyes never moved from his intended target area.

Napoleon moved as silently as he could, creeping up on his partner, his gun still pushed into the waistband of his pants. Solo was within two feet of his partner, when Illya spun around, pointing the gun at his friend’s chest.

"Illya. It’s Napoleon, do you know me?" Solo kept his voice low and calm, trying not to attract anyones attention. Napoleon knew anyone seeing his partner with a gun would shoot first and sort it out later.

There was no reaction at all from Kuryakin. He kept the gun calmly pointed at his friend’s chest his aim straight and steady.

Napoleon inched slowly towards his partner, his voice remained calm. "Illya, you’ve been drugged." He looked at his watch, realizing that Kuryakin had been drugged at least thirty to sixty minutes before. "Hang on Illya, please. That drug should be wearing off any time." Solo was now within six inches of his friend, the gun pushed right up against his chest. "Illya, you have to hear me, Thrush has programmed you to kill the Secretary General."

Napoleon slowly was bringing his hand up reaching for the gun when suddenly Illya began raising the gun. It happened almost as if in slow motion. One second Solo’s hand was within an inch of the gun and one second later, Kuryakin had brought the gun up and was holding it under his own chin.

Napoleon watched in horror as his friend began to squeeze the trigger. Desperately Solo grabbed the barrel of the gun and pulled it sideways.

Illya wrestled to pull the gun back towards his body as Solo pulled it sideways with his right arm and grabbed for his friend with his left. There was a struggle for the gun and Kuryakin gave his partner a vicious shove backwards as one silent shot was fired and Napoleon fell to the floor.

Illya blinked twice then shook his head hard as though waking up from a dream. Seeing the gun in his hand he looked around, freezing, horror struck as he spotted the silent form of his partner lying on the floor. "Napoleon!" Kuryakin moaned, dropping down beside his friend as the gun fell from nerveless fingers. "Napoleon, I wasn’t supposed to hurt you, it was supposed to be me." He reached for his partner’s wrist to check for a pulse.

Napoleon grabbed his partner’s hand as it got close. "What do you mean, it was supposed to be you?"

Illya jumped, startled at the unexpected voice. "Napoleon, are you all right?"

Solo sat up, keeping a firm grip on his friend’s hand. "I’m fine. Now what did you mean, it was supposed to be you? I thought you had been programmed to kill the Secretary General." Napoleon climbed to his feet, using his friend’s hand for balance, then pulling Illya up beside him turning to look him in the eyes.

Kuryakin met his partner’s firm gaze; "I knew when they caught me that they were going to use the drug on me. I wasn’t sure who they wanted me to kill but I knew I had to stop them somehow." He dropped his gaze, pausing for a second.

Napoleon reached over and raised his partner’s face to meet his gaze again. "So what did you do my friend?"

Illya sighed, realizing he would have to tell his friend everything, "from the second they injected me with the drug, I just kept telling myself over and over to use any gun I was given on me instead of anyone else." Kuryakin smiled lightly, "I hoped that way that no matter if I was told to kill you or someone else that I would only kill myself."

Solo winced, "Illya, you could have died. If I hadn’t grabbed the gun, you were about to put a bullet in your own head."

The young Russian dropped his gaze again; "I couldn’t have lived with myself if I had hurt you my friend. I would rather be dead."

Napoleon pulled his friend into a firm hug, Illya allowed it for a second, breaking the strong grip when Solo’s communicator began going off. "Solo here," Napoleon said as he opened up the pen.

"Mr. Solo, your report please." Waverly’s voice was once again very calm and matter of fact.

"There was no assassination attempt sir. Illya is right here with me and the drug has worn off." Napoleon turned to smile at his partner. "If you’ll send a back up team, I’ve got an unconscious Thrush leader that should be able to supply any information we want about this mind sweep drug."

"Very good Mr. Solo and you also Mr. Kuryakin. I’ll send a back up team."

"Close channel D," Solo slipped his communicator back into his pocket, turning back to his partner. "Come on partner, let’s go clean up our mess then I’m taking you out for the biggest dinner you can eat."

Illya’s eyes opened wide; "You’re buying dinner out?"

Napoleon smiled brightly at his friend, "yes my friend, after the last couple of days I think I owe you one."

Solo turned and started back towards the stairs, Illya moving quickly was right at his side.