Genre - slash
Word count - 1,000
Prompts - Power and Prey
Kevin Lean was a very unhappy UNCLE agent. Not only had his partner gone missing, but it was obvious, even to Illya, that the fun aspect of dressing up had long lost its charm. He stared off into the distance, the rapidly changing lights reflecting across his face. Then Illya noticed the man’s eyes were glassy.
“Kevin, are you okay?” When the man didn’t respond, Illya reached out and turned his face towards him. “Kevin, are you ready to go?”
“But can I go here?” He took repossession of his face and looked towards the bathroom across the dance floor. “I don’t think I’m going to make it over there.”
That’s when Illya noted that Lean’s glass was half empty. “Maybe we need to get you some fresh air.” He stood and helped Lean to his feet. “You are such a lightweight, my dear” he said loudly. Softer, he asked, “Can you make under your own power?”
“I can try.” Lean took a shaky step and nearly collapsed to the floor.
“Trouble, gentleman?” A waiter dressed as a playing card approached them.
“I think my friend was over-served. I’m just taking him out for some air.”
“We have a quiet spot in the back if you prefer?” The waiter moved to block Illya’s path. “I think that would be a better choice for the lady.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Illya shouted and the response was immediate among the few remaining patrons. Heads swiveled in their directions – just the reaction Illya was hoping for. “How dare you proposition my date when it’s obvious that your establishment gave her too much to drink? Is this how you freaks get your kicks – get someone drunk and then make them your prey? I don’t think that’s happening. I’m contacting my lawyer.”
A taller man stepped closer. “I’m a lawyer and if you need help, I’m right around the corner.” He offered Illya his card.
“Thanks.” Illya accepted the card with a grateful smile and then turned back to glare at the waiter. He seemed to be looking for instructions from the shadows. Making a face, he stepped aside.
“Get the hell out of here and don’t come back.”
“Not a problem. You will never see us again. Come on, sweetie. You can still walk.”
The crowd parted as they made it to the door and out into the cool air. At this time of night, the fog was starting to roll in. Illya could hear some sort of announcement as the door closed behind them. He spotted their sedan and moved in that direction.
Lean seemed to have gotten a second wind, but as they arrived at the car, he propped himself against the fender and promptly emptied his stomach onto the glistening asphalt.
Illya stepped around the car to give him some privacy and to look for any hints as to where Napoleon had gone. He saw Napoleon’s crushed communicator by the passenger door and knelt, When he stood up, Lean was gone.
“Kevin? Agent Lean?”
Illya trotted around the car and saw Lean sitting on the ground, his wig askew. “You okay?”
“Shoot me now?”
“I’d love to oblige, but we have bigger fish to fry.”
“Please, no food references.” The man actually managed to look green, but it was probably due to the bar’s sign. He shut his eyes. “So dizzy.”
“It looks like Napoleon and your partner have been taken. I found what is left of his communicator.”
“Or Vickrey. While we were in the lion’s den, the lion was apparently out here hunting. I need to get back inside.”
“The bouncer isn’t likely to oblige.”
Illya nodded. “I told him that we would never go back in and we won’t. Not as customers, but rather through the back as UNCLE agents. Is there some place we can go to get changed?”
Kevin dragged himself to his feet, using the car for support. “My apartment isn’t far from here. If you can hotwire this thing, we can be there in five minutes.”
Twenty minutes and they were back, parked in the shadow of a nearby building. Lean was looking much better, although he was still a little pale.
“I don’t know what THRUSH is using these days, but I would advise avoiding it.” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “It leaves a killer headache behind.”
“I believe it’s called formula 7K – the K would stand for Kuryakin.” He smiled tightly. “It was not a pleasant assignment.”
“Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.” He lifted binoculars and studied the bar front. “It seems quiet over there, almost too quiet.”
“I agree. According to what I saw on the door, the bar is now closing. Did all the patrons leave while we were gone?”
“There are usually a few stragglers.” Lean’s binoculars dropped and he frowned. “Illya?”
“Why exactly is UNCLE after Delno Vickrey?”
“You name it. Drugs, money laundering, weapon charges –“
“That would be a safe… what are you suggesting?”
“They made an announcement after we left. I only half heard it, but it was, in effect, something about free drinks in exchange for them forgetting about us. Illya, what if all those people weren’t just customer, but also victims? A glass full of whatever I had and they would be dead to the world. And your friend’s involved.”
Illya thought of Grigory’s good natured grin and easy going manner, all masking a brilliant mind. He was quick to play the fool if it meant a drink or a free meal, but he was anything but. “I hope you are wrong.”
“Me, too, but we aren’t that far from the Barbary Coast. It was well known for shanghaiing victims back in San Francisco in the early 1900’s. And our partners are in there.”
The bar’s neon signs went out and Illya reached for his weapon, checking the clip. “Not for much longer. Shall we?”
“After you, my dear Alphonse.”