a Halloween treat for Ducky's Lady
Title: Mirror Image
Genre: Man from UNCLE
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2188
Prompt: Napoleon discovers that there is a person who looks exactly like him. it's not a good thing.
duckys_lady, I hope you enjoy your bit of Halloween fun! Thanks for participating and my additional thanks to sparky955 for her beta.
“Napoleon Solo!”
The man in question jumped slightly as his name was shouted across the room. Normally, he’d reach for his weapon, but because he was in the Canteen and his partner was across from him, he didn’t panic.
A young woman stormed up to him and put her hands on her hips. “How could you?”
“How could I what?” He used his silkiest tone to try to calm her.
“I saw you last night!” The woman’s voice carried over the normal buzz of conversation and people quieted. “I saw you with that woman in the park.”
If possible, Napoleon was even more confused. “That’s impossible. I wasn’t even in town last night.”
“It’s true. We just got in two hours ago.” Illya propped his chin up on his hand and scrunched his eyes shut, resisting the urge to yawn. After a while, even coffee didn’t help.
“Of course you’d stick up for him. You’re his partner.”
“But it’s true. Check with travel.”
“I don’t need to. And to think I let you…! I’m through with you!” She stomped away and the lull in conversation picked back up. There was no need to wonder the main topic of everyone’s conversation.
Illya grinned and shook his head. “You are usually more careful than that, my friend.”
“Illya, you have to believe me. I’ve never seen that woman before, much less dated her. Last night, we were just taking off. I was still picking the straw from my clothes. Who is she?”
“She just started four weeks ago. I knew she had it bad when all she can do is go on and on about what it was like to be with the Great Napoleon Solo.” He sat down and leaned forward. “Apparently you are all that and more in bed.”
Elfie Jensen worked in the back of the labs and keen to make his mark. Sadly, he lacked what Napoleon thought was prudent judgment to offset some of his more grandiose schemes. They were not friends and this gesture struck Napoleon as very odd.
“Not me. I’ve been in Europe for the past five weeks. It’s not like I pop back on the weekends. Besides, I would never press an advantage.”
“Especially when being suspended by your feet over a tank of alligators.” Illya pushed back in his chair and stretched. “I need to sleep. Are you coming?”
Napoleon got stiffly to his feet. “I still say they were crocodiles.”
“Either way, many sharp teeth were involved.” The loudspeaker above their head crackled to life and a slightly distorted voice requested the presence of Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin in Waverly’s office. The voice indicated that there was no argument.
Illya let his head drop forward. “Oh, no. The patch didn’t hold. I knew it. I foresee another flight to Europe in our future. ”
Napoleon sighed and clapped his partner on the back. “Look at it this way, you can sleep when you’re dead.”
They walked into Waverly’s office and two men grabbed Napoleon. They were on the floor before either could even register the situation. Illya had his weapon out and aimed at the only other stranger in the room.
“I tried to tell you that was a bad idea, detective.” Waverly gestured to seats at the round table and waited while Napoleon readjusted his suit jacket and Illya reholstered the P-38. “Gentlemen, this is Detective Dylan from the local precinct. Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin. Obviously, they are forces to be reckoned with.”
“Do you think me forward of asking what all that was about?” Napoleon asked as he watched the two other men as they came to stand to either side of the detective.
Mr. Waverly toggled a switch and the lights dimmed slightly. He pressed a button and a man appeared. He was dressed in dark clothes and had a ratty looking fedora pulled down over his eyes. He looked left and right and readjusted the hat. The camera froze on a grainy image of Napoleon.
“That was taken two nights ago… right before a woman was found raped and beaten to death. This follows a pattern of other incidents we have been keeping from the public.”
“I don’t understand.” Napoleon studied the image carefully. It was him. “I was in an Istanbul jail cell two days ago and I have the dysentery to prove it.”
“I agree, Mr. Solo, although Detective Dylan isn’t as certain.”
Napoleon pulled his passport from his jacket pocket. “You can check my passport if you’d like.”
It was snatched from his hand. “You’d be clever enough to know how to fake it.”
“Why would I? If I was going to be anywhere, it wouldn’t have been in an Istanbul jail cell for a week. You can check with the guy in charge. He’s likely to remember.”
“It’s true. I had to blow out the entire cell block wall to help him escape.”
“And I have to injuries to prove it. You and your explosives.”
“I told you to take cover.”
“In a ten by ten foot cell?”
“They argue like an old married couple,” Dylan muttered to one of the standing men.
“Indeed.” Waverly cleared his throat and the partners fell silent. “It is very easy to prove that Mr. Solo was not in the country, but obviously someone thought he was. THRUSH?”
“I don’t think so. We were entangled with them at the time, so they knew where I was.”
“Perhaps you have a doppelganger,” Illya said. “Someone who looks like you, but, of course, isn’t you.”
“But why? It’s easy enough to follow my path, especially when I haven’t been in the country for a month.”
“Or perhaps because you weren’t scheduled to be gone,” Illya murmured. “When the cat’s away, the mice --”
“-- turn into rats,” Napoleon finished.
“Who would know you were out of the country?” Dylan asked.
“Mr. Waverly, of course, and a few Section Two agents. It was need to know.”
“And your partner.”
“Well, yes, that goes without saying since he was with me.”
“What do we know about you, Mr.…?” He consulted his notes. “Curry a kin?”
“Kuryakin. It’s Russian and that’s all you need to know unless my superiors tell me otherwise.” Illya glared at the detective and Napoleon hid his smile.
“What will you have us do, Detective?”
“Obviously, everyone knows you are back.”
“Ye, especially after that scene in the Canteen...” Illya trailed off. “Did that whole thing strike you as a little contrived to you?”
“Mr. Solo?” Waverly had reached for his pipe and his tone didn’t leave much wiggle room to avoid an explanation.
After a long moment, Napoleon said, “A young lady accused me of stepping out last night with another woman when I was supposedly meeting with her. She also accused me of some pretty ungentlemanly behavior.” At Waverly’s frown, Napoleon squared his shoulders. “Sir, I have never pressed my advantage with a young lady.”
“Except in the name of UNCLE.” Illya added. “He would never rape a woman, Detective. He has no reason to.”
“You seem rather sure.”
Illya smiled enigmatically at the man and reached over to rest his hand upon Napoleon’s. “I am.”
The detective’s eyes widened and he hurriedly got up from the table, stumbling into one of his associates as he did. There was an awkward moment, a promise to follow up and they were gone.
Waverly lit his pipe and took a long draw on it. “Well done, Mr. Kuryakin. Now we can take care of this ourselves.”
Illya smiled at his partner and removed his hand. “Whoever this is knows a little about Napoleon, but no details, at least not enough to know that Napoleon hadn’t been around for a while.”
“Or just the opposite, Mr. Kuryakin. Whoever is responsible knew Mr. Solo was out of the country and not here to defend himself. I fear one more day and you would have been arrested as you entered the country.”
“I suppose it’s good that we caught that earlier flight,” Napoleon murmured. “It was last minute. I should have been home tonight --”
“-- And into the arms of New York’s finest.” Illya finished. “Not the welcoming committee we would have been expecting. It might have ended badly.”
Waverly nodded sagely. “I suspect that’s exactly what was planned. The young lady who accused you?”
Napoleon patted his hair in place. “Never saw her before.”
“Maybe a secretary?” Illya went to a console and started going through ID photos. “No, she’s not a secretary…” Then he stopped. “This is even better… lab assistant.”
“To?”
“Elfie Jensen.”
“I think it’s time to pay Elfie a little visit.”
Napoleon looked around nervously as if he was worried about being followed. He started slightly when Illya tapped his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Illya asked, then lowered his voice. “What’s going on, Napoleon? It’s the labs. You’ve been down here a dozen times. ”
“I always feel like a rat in a maze.”
Illya grinned at that. “Then I guess it’s good you hang around with the cheese.” He entered the main entrance and paused. “Where is everyone? It shouldn’t be deserted even in the middle of the night.”
“It was for their own safety.” Jensen stepped out of the shadows. He had a haunted look about him and moved slowly. “I can’t control him anymore.”
“Control who, Mr. Jensen?”
Jensen laughed weakly. “It was genius, you know. To create a lookalike of you, Solo. One that I could control and direct. My path to promotion was paved with gold. He could have been Section One, Number One… except I forgot…”
“Forgot what?”
“Your appetite, Mr. Solo. Your sexual appetite…” He looked over his shoulder at a pair of legs protruding from the shadows. “Poor Miss Williams. She thought you’d stop when you said no. You didn’t until you had nearly gutted her like a fish and I would swear in a courtroom it was you. If only…”
He stumbled and dropped to his knees. That’s when Illya saw the blood seeping from the back of his lab jacket. He started forward, but Jensen held up a hand.
“NO! STOP, SOLO! HELP ME!” Jensen screamed with the last of his strength and pitched forward. That’s when they saw the ring stand protruding from his back.
Napoleon started to take a step forward, but Illya caught him. “Napoleon, don’t move, please. Do not leave my sight and do not speak. Our lives depend upon it,” Illya whispered, then louder he said, “We are not alone.”
“More alone than you realize, partner.” The voice was almost right. It was a bit higher pitched, but it was the only thing different. The man who came from behind the lab table was Napoleon’s duplicate in every way. “My plan had been to get rid of him and take my place at your side. You wouldn’t have noticed the difference.”
“I think I would have. Napoleon Solo does not rape and kill.”
“Doesn’t he? I was developed from him. I am him.” He took a step forward and Illya retreated, drawing his pistol. “What are you going to do, Illya? Shoot your partner? Don’t you want to know his secrets? His dirty little lies that he tells you? What he really wants from you?”
The gunshot was enough to make both UNCLE agents jump. Mr. Waverly stood there, a luger, his preferred weapon, still aimed. “I think we have had quite enough of you.” He fired again and the duplicate fell, face down. Section Three agents appeared. “There is the intruder, another Solo lookalike.”
“He’s dead, sir.”
Waverly nodded. “You sound surprised. I am still a competent shot, despite my age.”
“Yes, sir.”
The body was carried away and Mr. Waverly started to sag. Napoleon grabbed a stool and eased the man onto it. “Are you all right, Mr. Waverly?”
“The truth be known, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to kill a man, especially a man who looks like the man who might soon be king.”
“Nonsense. You have many more years in you, sir. I have that on the best of authority.” Napoleon smiled comfortingly at him.
“The doctors?”
“Your wife.”
They sat quietly in Napoleon’s living room, the thrum of the distant traffic a comforting background. Illya stared into his glass of whiskey.
“He was close, Napoleon. Too close. I’m not sure I would have been able to tell.”
“Well, he got the outside right, but a man is more than his appearance, Illya. We all fight an inner demon, our choices determining our path.”
“That’s very astute.” Illya drained his glass and stood up. “Are you ready for bed?”
“Very much. It feels like a hundred years since that jail cell.” He took Illya’s offered hand up.
“Crocodile.”
“Alligator.”
In the bowels of the UNCLE labs, a Section Three agent walked past a sheet-covered table and frowned. He paused and his partner, a few steps ahead stopped. “What’s wrong?
“I have a weird feeling like we are being watched.”
And he was right. The gaze from the blue eyes from beneath the sheet never left him.
Genre: Man from UNCLE
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 2188
Prompt: Napoleon discovers that there is a person who looks exactly like him. it's not a good thing.
duckys_lady, I hope you enjoy your bit of Halloween fun! Thanks for participating and my additional thanks to sparky955 for her beta.“Napoleon Solo!”
The man in question jumped slightly as his name was shouted across the room. Normally, he’d reach for his weapon, but because he was in the Canteen and his partner was across from him, he didn’t panic.
A young woman stormed up to him and put her hands on her hips. “How could you?”
“How could I what?” He used his silkiest tone to try to calm her.
“I saw you last night!” The woman’s voice carried over the normal buzz of conversation and people quieted. “I saw you with that woman in the park.”
If possible, Napoleon was even more confused. “That’s impossible. I wasn’t even in town last night.”
“It’s true. We just got in two hours ago.” Illya propped his chin up on his hand and scrunched his eyes shut, resisting the urge to yawn. After a while, even coffee didn’t help.
“Of course you’d stick up for him. You’re his partner.”
“But it’s true. Check with travel.”
“I don’t need to. And to think I let you…! I’m through with you!” She stomped away and the lull in conversation picked back up. There was no need to wonder the main topic of everyone’s conversation.
Illya grinned and shook his head. “You are usually more careful than that, my friend.”
“Illya, you have to believe me. I’ve never seen that woman before, much less dated her. Last night, we were just taking off. I was still picking the straw from my clothes. Who is she?”
“She just started four weeks ago. I knew she had it bad when all she can do is go on and on about what it was like to be with the Great Napoleon Solo.” He sat down and leaned forward. “Apparently you are all that and more in bed.”
Elfie Jensen worked in the back of the labs and keen to make his mark. Sadly, he lacked what Napoleon thought was prudent judgment to offset some of his more grandiose schemes. They were not friends and this gesture struck Napoleon as very odd.
“Not me. I’ve been in Europe for the past five weeks. It’s not like I pop back on the weekends. Besides, I would never press an advantage.”
“Especially when being suspended by your feet over a tank of alligators.” Illya pushed back in his chair and stretched. “I need to sleep. Are you coming?”
Napoleon got stiffly to his feet. “I still say they were crocodiles.”
“Either way, many sharp teeth were involved.” The loudspeaker above their head crackled to life and a slightly distorted voice requested the presence of Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin in Waverly’s office. The voice indicated that there was no argument.
Illya let his head drop forward. “Oh, no. The patch didn’t hold. I knew it. I foresee another flight to Europe in our future. ”
Napoleon sighed and clapped his partner on the back. “Look at it this way, you can sleep when you’re dead.”
They walked into Waverly’s office and two men grabbed Napoleon. They were on the floor before either could even register the situation. Illya had his weapon out and aimed at the only other stranger in the room.
“I tried to tell you that was a bad idea, detective.” Waverly gestured to seats at the round table and waited while Napoleon readjusted his suit jacket and Illya reholstered the P-38. “Gentlemen, this is Detective Dylan from the local precinct. Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin. Obviously, they are forces to be reckoned with.”
“Do you think me forward of asking what all that was about?” Napoleon asked as he watched the two other men as they came to stand to either side of the detective.
Mr. Waverly toggled a switch and the lights dimmed slightly. He pressed a button and a man appeared. He was dressed in dark clothes and had a ratty looking fedora pulled down over his eyes. He looked left and right and readjusted the hat. The camera froze on a grainy image of Napoleon.
“That was taken two nights ago… right before a woman was found raped and beaten to death. This follows a pattern of other incidents we have been keeping from the public.”
“I don’t understand.” Napoleon studied the image carefully. It was him. “I was in an Istanbul jail cell two days ago and I have the dysentery to prove it.”
“I agree, Mr. Solo, although Detective Dylan isn’t as certain.”
Napoleon pulled his passport from his jacket pocket. “You can check my passport if you’d like.”
It was snatched from his hand. “You’d be clever enough to know how to fake it.”
“Why would I? If I was going to be anywhere, it wouldn’t have been in an Istanbul jail cell for a week. You can check with the guy in charge. He’s likely to remember.”
“It’s true. I had to blow out the entire cell block wall to help him escape.”
“And I have to injuries to prove it. You and your explosives.”
“I told you to take cover.”
“In a ten by ten foot cell?”
“They argue like an old married couple,” Dylan muttered to one of the standing men.
“Indeed.” Waverly cleared his throat and the partners fell silent. “It is very easy to prove that Mr. Solo was not in the country, but obviously someone thought he was. THRUSH?”
“I don’t think so. We were entangled with them at the time, so they knew where I was.”
“Perhaps you have a doppelganger,” Illya said. “Someone who looks like you, but, of course, isn’t you.”
“But why? It’s easy enough to follow my path, especially when I haven’t been in the country for a month.”
“Or perhaps because you weren’t scheduled to be gone,” Illya murmured. “When the cat’s away, the mice --”
“-- turn into rats,” Napoleon finished.
“Who would know you were out of the country?” Dylan asked.
“Mr. Waverly, of course, and a few Section Two agents. It was need to know.”
“And your partner.”
“Well, yes, that goes without saying since he was with me.”
“What do we know about you, Mr.…?” He consulted his notes. “Curry a kin?”
“Kuryakin. It’s Russian and that’s all you need to know unless my superiors tell me otherwise.” Illya glared at the detective and Napoleon hid his smile.
“What will you have us do, Detective?”
“Obviously, everyone knows you are back.”
“Ye, especially after that scene in the Canteen...” Illya trailed off. “Did that whole thing strike you as a little contrived to you?”
“Mr. Solo?” Waverly had reached for his pipe and his tone didn’t leave much wiggle room to avoid an explanation.
After a long moment, Napoleon said, “A young lady accused me of stepping out last night with another woman when I was supposedly meeting with her. She also accused me of some pretty ungentlemanly behavior.” At Waverly’s frown, Napoleon squared his shoulders. “Sir, I have never pressed my advantage with a young lady.”
“Except in the name of UNCLE.” Illya added. “He would never rape a woman, Detective. He has no reason to.”
“You seem rather sure.”
Illya smiled enigmatically at the man and reached over to rest his hand upon Napoleon’s. “I am.”
The detective’s eyes widened and he hurriedly got up from the table, stumbling into one of his associates as he did. There was an awkward moment, a promise to follow up and they were gone.
Waverly lit his pipe and took a long draw on it. “Well done, Mr. Kuryakin. Now we can take care of this ourselves.”
Illya smiled at his partner and removed his hand. “Whoever this is knows a little about Napoleon, but no details, at least not enough to know that Napoleon hadn’t been around for a while.”
“Or just the opposite, Mr. Kuryakin. Whoever is responsible knew Mr. Solo was out of the country and not here to defend himself. I fear one more day and you would have been arrested as you entered the country.”
“I suppose it’s good that we caught that earlier flight,” Napoleon murmured. “It was last minute. I should have been home tonight --”
“-- And into the arms of New York’s finest.” Illya finished. “Not the welcoming committee we would have been expecting. It might have ended badly.”
Waverly nodded sagely. “I suspect that’s exactly what was planned. The young lady who accused you?”
Napoleon patted his hair in place. “Never saw her before.”
“Maybe a secretary?” Illya went to a console and started going through ID photos. “No, she’s not a secretary…” Then he stopped. “This is even better… lab assistant.”
“To?”
“Elfie Jensen.”
“I think it’s time to pay Elfie a little visit.”
Napoleon looked around nervously as if he was worried about being followed. He started slightly when Illya tapped his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Illya asked, then lowered his voice. “What’s going on, Napoleon? It’s the labs. You’ve been down here a dozen times. ”
“I always feel like a rat in a maze.”
Illya grinned at that. “Then I guess it’s good you hang around with the cheese.” He entered the main entrance and paused. “Where is everyone? It shouldn’t be deserted even in the middle of the night.”
“It was for their own safety.” Jensen stepped out of the shadows. He had a haunted look about him and moved slowly. “I can’t control him anymore.”
“Control who, Mr. Jensen?”
Jensen laughed weakly. “It was genius, you know. To create a lookalike of you, Solo. One that I could control and direct. My path to promotion was paved with gold. He could have been Section One, Number One… except I forgot…”
“Forgot what?”
“Your appetite, Mr. Solo. Your sexual appetite…” He looked over his shoulder at a pair of legs protruding from the shadows. “Poor Miss Williams. She thought you’d stop when you said no. You didn’t until you had nearly gutted her like a fish and I would swear in a courtroom it was you. If only…”
He stumbled and dropped to his knees. That’s when Illya saw the blood seeping from the back of his lab jacket. He started forward, but Jensen held up a hand.
“NO! STOP, SOLO! HELP ME!” Jensen screamed with the last of his strength and pitched forward. That’s when they saw the ring stand protruding from his back.
Napoleon started to take a step forward, but Illya caught him. “Napoleon, don’t move, please. Do not leave my sight and do not speak. Our lives depend upon it,” Illya whispered, then louder he said, “We are not alone.”
“More alone than you realize, partner.” The voice was almost right. It was a bit higher pitched, but it was the only thing different. The man who came from behind the lab table was Napoleon’s duplicate in every way. “My plan had been to get rid of him and take my place at your side. You wouldn’t have noticed the difference.”
“I think I would have. Napoleon Solo does not rape and kill.”
“Doesn’t he? I was developed from him. I am him.” He took a step forward and Illya retreated, drawing his pistol. “What are you going to do, Illya? Shoot your partner? Don’t you want to know his secrets? His dirty little lies that he tells you? What he really wants from you?”
The gunshot was enough to make both UNCLE agents jump. Mr. Waverly stood there, a luger, his preferred weapon, still aimed. “I think we have had quite enough of you.” He fired again and the duplicate fell, face down. Section Three agents appeared. “There is the intruder, another Solo lookalike.”
“He’s dead, sir.”
Waverly nodded. “You sound surprised. I am still a competent shot, despite my age.”
“Yes, sir.”
The body was carried away and Mr. Waverly started to sag. Napoleon grabbed a stool and eased the man onto it. “Are you all right, Mr. Waverly?”
“The truth be known, it’s been a long time since I’ve had to kill a man, especially a man who looks like the man who might soon be king.”
“Nonsense. You have many more years in you, sir. I have that on the best of authority.” Napoleon smiled comfortingly at him.
“The doctors?”
“Your wife.”
They sat quietly in Napoleon’s living room, the thrum of the distant traffic a comforting background. Illya stared into his glass of whiskey.
“He was close, Napoleon. Too close. I’m not sure I would have been able to tell.”
“Well, he got the outside right, but a man is more than his appearance, Illya. We all fight an inner demon, our choices determining our path.”
“That’s very astute.” Illya drained his glass and stood up. “Are you ready for bed?”
“Very much. It feels like a hundred years since that jail cell.” He took Illya’s offered hand up.
“Crocodile.”
“Alligator.”
In the bowels of the UNCLE labs, a Section Three agent walked past a sheet-covered table and frowned. He paused and his partner, a few steps ahead stopped. “What’s wrong?
“I have a weird feeling like we are being watched.”
And he was right. The gaze from the blue eyes from beneath the sheet never left him.