The Steppes of Central Asia Affair: Act 1
The Steppes of Central Asia Affair
-a Man from UNCLE slash fanfic by Taylor Dancinghands
Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin; Characters: Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin
Genre: slash, h/c, BDSM, A/U: His Dark Materials Universe
Warnings: none
Rating: Mature/PG 13
Beta:gevr
Act 1: "A remarkable sense of smell."
Illya and Napoleon were, in fact, staying in a yurt right next to the one where Batu lived with his wife and two young children. Normally his brother-in-law stayed there, but he was out on the range with the herds of sheep and small, two-humped bactrian camels, whose wool and milk were locally prized. Batu would arrive home well before the two UNCLE agents and their range-rover, however, as he and his sure-footed spirit-steed would go cross-country, whereas Napoleon would be constrained to driving on some of the worst roads he'd ever encountered -and Napoleon had encountered his fair share of bad roads.
"So, it looks like we're going to have to go and lean on some of the individual clan leaders tomorrow," Illya said, holding fast to Pasha lest he be flung out of the jolting rover.
"Yes, which means hours and hours of driving on these wonderful roads," Napoleon said. "And as much as I'd like you to take your share of this delightful chore, I'm wondering if I might have more success going on my own."
"You think two of us will look too much like strong-arm tactics?" Illya asked.
"I think you look too much like a Russian, partner mine," Napoleon said bluntly. "Plus, I think we'd all like to know what the Bears are actually up to, that they don't want to tell the Windriders about."
"That makes sense," said Illya.
"Something definitely smells off about those Bears," Pasha confirmed, "but how will we get to their camp, if Napoleon is taking the rover?"
In the end, they agreed that Napoleon would drop Illya off a few miles from the Bears' camp, early in the morning before he went on his rounds of the local Windrider camps. Batu thought it a sound plan, for he too suspected that the Bears were withholding something of importance. He supplied Napoleon with a map marked with Windrider camp locations and notes about who was more predisposed against the Ice Bears, and together they planned a route that had Napoleon travelling in a convoluted loop so that he finished the day headed in the direction of the Bears' camp. Illya would call on his communicator when, and where he needed to be picked up.
They dined, once all the planning was done, on spicy mutton curry served with sheep's milk yogurt and milky, salted tea. An obligatory toast was drunk at the finish of the meal with Mongolian arkhi, or milk vodka, which Napoleon had to work at not making a face when he drank, but which Illya said he could get used to. They retired to their guest yurt afterwards, and although they slept together, daemons at their feet, they'd long ago made a rule to keep business and pleasure separate.
Even when they did not feel the need to set a watch (Batu's aged but canny old heard dog doing a more than adequate job of that) both Napoleon and Illya knew that they could not ever afford to let their guard down on a mission they way they did when they pleasured each other. They leaned across to kiss each other goodnight, and let the kiss linger just a little, but they were both tired too, and would be waking with Batu, before sunrise. They slept close, limbs intertwined comfortably, and woke thusly as well, refreshed and ready for the new day.
Besides having to fight and shoot, drive defensively, build or defuse bombs and so forth, all UNCLE agents were trained in diplomacy as well. Between the two of them, Illya was rather better at hotwiring cars and defusing bombs, and Napoleon was the one who could genially discuss polite nothings with crabby, lecherous and camel-smelling old tribal chieftains for hours without actually having to murder them. Napoleon could not wait to tell Illya how lucky he was to have missed this.
The one thing Illya might have managed better was the required imbibing of various sorts of fermented dairy products (from an astonishing variety of sources). Napoleon was just washing the taste of the most recent out of his mouth with the contents of a flask he'd stashed in the rover's glove box when he heard his communicator signal. It was early, he thought warily, for Illya to be calling… if all had gone as planned.
"Napoleon, I'm glad I caught you," came Illya's voice as soon as he answered. As he listened, Napoleon could hear a loud crashing noise in the background, but Illya didn't give him a chance to inquire.
"There are clearly humans taking part in whatever the Bears are up to. There are a couple of supply sheds with various types of equipment Bears would never use, and a radio shack, which I'm investigating at the moment…" (crash!!) "I've found a codebook, which almost certainly contains Thrush radio codes…" (CRASH!!)
"Illya, what in the blazes…?"
"Yes… unfortunately, it seems that Byrn returned rather sooner than expected…" There was another crash, followed by a splintering sound. Napoleon was already starting the rover and putting it in gear.
"Napoleon, did you know that bears have a remarkable sense of smell?"
"Yes, I did," Napoleon answered, stepping on the gas.
"He knew I was in the radio shack, the second he returned to camp. It's uncanny, really. At any rate…" Napoleon heard more splintering and steered the car off the road to drive directly across country, suspension be damned.
"At any rate," Illya continued a little breathlessly after a moment, "I've sent Pasha ahead to where you dropped me off, with the code book, which should prove fairly incontrovertible evidence, should we be able to link it to Thrush. I have a feeling I'll want a lift myself, assuming there's enough of me left after the angry Armoured Bear gets through the door here…" A huge, splintering crash, followed by a loud wrenching sound interrupted, and then naturally the communicator went dead.
Napoleon didn't bother calling out his partner's name, dropping the communicator on the seat next to Saphina to take the wheel in both hands and step on the gas. Neither one spoke. Twenty or so bone-wrenching minutes later, Saphina alerted Napoleon to Pasha's presence, the little silver-grey fox all but invisible in a clump of tundra grass. He leapt up onto the rover's hood as soon as it slowed, then into the passenger compartment, dropping Illya's dangerously-won code book onto the seat.
Like his human, Pasha would do his duty, even when, as Napoleon could see from the trembling in his ears, he was all but consumed with anxiety. Illya and his Pasha could endure more than most, having endured the gruelling Russian Secret Service training that allowed them to be separated by a far greater distance than any save the witches, with their avian daemons. Napoleon and Saphina could not bear to be more than a dozen yards apart, whereas now, with his human in grave danger, Pasha had remained waiting for Napoleon as ordered, almost a quarter of a mile from Illya.
"Which way?" Napoleon asked, putting the rover back in gear. Pasha whined and pointed the way and Napoleon stepped on the gas again.
The Bears had built their camp in a low spot, probably to avoid being seen, so the first sight Napoleon had was of the radio mast, a girdered, sky-ward pointing needle supported by surrounding guywires. Moments later the rover topped a rise and the whole camp was revealed, just as Illya had described it. A dozen or more typical Ice-Bear long-tents were arrayed in a loose circle, with two very non-traditional equipment sheds set off to the right and just in front of them, where Napoleon's gaze turned immediately, the radio shack, clinging to the base of the tower he'd seen earlier.
Napoleon had known that his arrival would be announced, as the range rover had taken some hits during the recent cross-country trek, not only to the suspension, but also the muffler. As a result, his first view was of a frozen tableau, with both participants looking straight at him. Byrn Ivoson's expression was hard to read, with his face as well as much of his body clothed in armour, but his body language, one massive paw pinning Illya to the ground, the other poised just above Illya's head, to strike or maim, was crystal clear. Illya's face showed a mix of pain and relief, and his complexion was too pale, probably as a result of the blood soaking his pants leg and visibly pooling beneath him.
Napoleon gave himself a full beat to stifle the anxiety he felt and put on the affable and disarming persona he employed for defusing sticky diplomatic situations and hostage negotiations. Securing Illya's safety was a goal concurrent with UNCLE's, but not at all costs; that was something both agents understood intimately. In that moment Napoleon was vaguely aware of the silver streak that was Illya's Pasha, racing to his human's side. When Napoleon stood, hands visible and relaxed as he exited the car, Saphina slipped out alongside him, a cool shadow to his cool poise.
"Forgive me for interrupting," he began as he approached, watching Byrn for any sign that he'd gotten close enough. "But may I ask you to reconsider your actions?"
Byrn lifted his lip to reveal blood-stained white teeth, but made no other move.
"I don't know if you are familiar with the U.N.C.L.E, sir," Napoleon continued, coming to stand just beyond the immediate range of the Armoured Bear's powerful paws, "or of the work we do around the world. I believe you saw our credentials in the last meeting."
"Whoever you are, it's nothing to do with us," Byrn snarled at last. "You come snooping into our business, you pay the price."
"Whether or not UNCLE has any business with the Ice Bears," Napoleon replied, "I'm afraid we almost certainly have business with the people who built those sheds, and that radio transmitter. And if you have allied yourself with them, then I'm very much afraid that it is the Bears that will be paying, and more than likely a much higher price that you've anticipated."
Now Byrn raised his head and his snarl became a sneer. "Do you think to threaten me, UNCLE man?"
"Absolutely not," Napoleon said, spreading his hands. "UNCLE stakes its reputation on peaceful means to achieving peaceful goals. Our Enforcement arm is occasionally called upon to enforce the law with strength of force, but you'll find, if you care to investigate, that UNCLE is widely known as an honest broker. We'll have nothing to do with double dealing or blackmail, and take no reprisals. Naturally, UNCLE has enemies, and while we'll do what we can to protect you from them, if you are protecting them, then our hands are tied."
"Insolent weakling!" Byrn growled, pressing his paw more heavily on Illya so that he grimaced in pain. "How am I to believe that you are not all colluding with each other, you two-leggers!"
"Thrush has already crossed him," Saphina said softly, echoing Napoleon's own thoughts. "His anger hides fear; I can smell it."
"Sir," Napoleon began placatingly, "Chieftain Ivoson, if our enemy has put you under some threat, we may be able to help…"
"I need no help!" Byrn declared, standing to his full intimidating height and releasing Illya, though it was clear that he was in no way able to flee. "You have one of mine and now I have one of yours. You will return my mate to me and then your man will be returned."
"His mate!?" exclaimed Saphina. Napoleon pinched the bridge of his nose desperately.
"I swear to you sir, on my honor, UNCLE knows nothing about the whereabouts of your mate…" Napoleon began.
"What honor would that be?" Byrn retorted, dropping to crouch over Illya again. "Swear by something which you possess instead!"
Napoleon wanted to beat his head against something. "By what would you have me swear, sir? By my country's flag? By UNCLE? By the life of my partner which you hold in your hands? Your hostage is going to bleed to death before I can even determine the location of your missing mate, much less rescue her from our mutual enemies. What good will he do you then?"
"If that is the case then perhaps it is better I make an example of him now, that all may know the consequences of crossing an Armoured Bear." Napoleon felt his vision narrow, to Illya's alarmed expression as he tried to scrabble away, to Pasha, snarling in the face of the massive bear as he raised a deadly, armoured paw.
"Sire, I beg you," Napoleon cried, the words leaving his mouth before he was hardly aware of them. "He is my partner, and my own mate as well. Would you not have the one who holds your mate's life in his hands to show mercy?"
Byrn hesitated, though Napoleon did not think he had changed his mind and sought desperately for further arguments that might stay his hand. Then a new voice intruded into the scene that did.
"Uncle!"
All five heads turned abruptly towards the sound.
"Uncle, for Freya's sake, what are you doing? How can this bloodshed do ought but make things worse?"
Napoleon all but collapsed in relief as he saw Byrn step back, but his first remark was not to the female bear who'd spoken them. "Your mate?" he said, staring incredulously at Napoleon. The look Illya was giving him told Napoleon that he'd be hearing about this for some time to come, but at the moment he really didn't care.
"These two-leggers take mates as they please," the new bear said, coming to stand before the larger, more heavily armoured chieftain, Illya lying prone between them. "It's of no concern to us, save that the dark-haired one's words are worth considering."
"Consider mercy?" scowled Byrn. "Mercy is for the weak!"
"A show of mercy is meaningless unless one has the power to grant it," the newcomer, presumably Byrn's niece, pointed out. "And besides, do you really believe that whoever had the means and ability to take my mother's sister captive would send two more men to incompetently bungle their way into our camp the very next day?"
Napoleon and Saphina exchanged pained glances at the words 'incompetently bungle', but had to admit to her point. Now if only Byrn would see it. It seemed he did, for a moment later the Armoured Bear gave a discontented grumble, but stepped back, allowing Napoleon and Saphina to rush to Illya's side.
Saphina took a detour to fetch the first aid kit from under the rover's passenger seat, but arrived at Illya's side only a fraction of a second after Napoleon. Still it was enough time for Illya to scorch Napoleon with a gaze that would have reduced Napoleon to a cinder had he the power to do so.
"What the hell did he do to you?" Napoleon asked, ignoring Illya's look and instead addressing his torn and bleeding thigh. The two bears had withdrawn a short distance to continue their discussion in private, though the looks Byrn threw in their direction from time to time suggested to Napoleon that he was not entirely ready to let them go yet.
"After Byrn tore the door off the radio shack, I attempted to evade him by crawling under the desk… to buy time!" he amended at Napoleon's amused look. "At any rate, he just stuck his head in through the door, grabbed my leg," (with his teeth, Napoleon filled in silently, with an inward wince) "and dragged me out. He immediately began questioning me about the location of his missing mate, about which, naturally, I knew nothing."
"Not that he believed you," Napoleon muttered knowingly, carefully cutting open Illya's trouser leg and grimacing at what he saw. "So you think it's Thrush behind it?" he asked.
"I know it is," Illya replied. "They haven't exactly taken measures to hide their presence. There's Thrush marked equipment in the sheds, and a Thrush uniform jacket hanging in the radio shack. They must have assumed that the Bears wouldn't know them, and that no one else who did would come around."
"Arrogant as always," Napoleon said, handing the roll of bandage to Saphina who, along with Pasha, was actually doing a good job of helping Napoleon with the bandaging. They'd had practice, over the years. "Any ideas what they're looking to accomplish here, besides general mayhem and chaos?"
"There were no obvious indicators, and most of whatever equipment is meant to be stored in those sheds is out with the rest of the bears," Illya said, wincing as Napoleon's ministrations occasionally pained him. "It looks like some of it consists of metal detectors, though, and possibly also geiger counters. That's based on a few spare parts and packing crates I found."
"Metal detectors and geiger counters?" Napoleon said. "That could mean almost…" He broke off as he saw the smaller Armoured Bear approaching.
"Gentlemen," she began, her deep but melodious voice the only thing giving away her gender. "Our chieftain, my uncle, is not yet convinced that you are not involved in the disappearance of his mate, but I have convinced him to give you a chance to prove otherwise."
"There's nothing we'd rather do, Miss..." Napoleon replied, tying off the bandage and helping Illya to sit upright.
"Siglinda," the bear answered. "And you are?"
"Forgive me," Napoleon said, standing and dusting himself off. "I am Napoleon Solo and this is my partner, Illya Kuryakin. Agents of UNCLE, at your service." He produced his official UNCLE ID from his vest pocket to show her.
"I have heard something of this organization," she said, looking over Napoleon's credentials. "Some say they uphold law and order in the world, others say that they meddle where they are not wanted."
"The latter would certainly be the Czar's opinion, yes?" said Illya.
"Many in the Imperial family think so, but not all," answered Siglinda. "I spent five years in Moskva as bodyguard to one of the Czarinas and overheard much that was presumed to be beyond my understanding. I was keen to leave all the political machinations, maneuvering and betrayals behind when I returned to the northlands, but I swore I would never be ignorant again."
"Then you serve your people well," Illya said, reaching a hand up for Napoleon to help him to his feet. Napoleon was not so sure Illya should be on his feet but knew better than to say so. "Reserve your own judgement on UNCLE until you see what we do here, and you will doing them a service as well."
"Mind you," Napoleon put in, steadying Illya with a hand around his shoulders, "we make no promises, save that we will do our best to discover who is behind this kidnapping."
"And then?" Siglinda demanded. "Whose laws will you enforce?"
"If the crimes concern Bears, then it's the Bears' laws and Bears' justice that will apply," Napoleon said.
Siglinda gave them both a long, measuring gaze. "If this is true," she said at last, "then you will have won the respect of this bear, at least."
"I would consider myself well rewarded," Napoleon replied with his most beguiling smile. Who knew if it would work on bears, he thought, but it was worth a try.
NEXT
-a Man from UNCLE slash fanfic by Taylor Dancinghands
Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin; Characters: Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin
Genre: slash, h/c, BDSM, A/U: His Dark Materials Universe
Warnings: none
Rating: Mature/PG 13
Beta:gevr
Act 1: "A remarkable sense of smell."
Illya and Napoleon were, in fact, staying in a yurt right next to the one where Batu lived with his wife and two young children. Normally his brother-in-law stayed there, but he was out on the range with the herds of sheep and small, two-humped bactrian camels, whose wool and milk were locally prized. Batu would arrive home well before the two UNCLE agents and their range-rover, however, as he and his sure-footed spirit-steed would go cross-country, whereas Napoleon would be constrained to driving on some of the worst roads he'd ever encountered -and Napoleon had encountered his fair share of bad roads.
"So, it looks like we're going to have to go and lean on some of the individual clan leaders tomorrow," Illya said, holding fast to Pasha lest he be flung out of the jolting rover.
"Yes, which means hours and hours of driving on these wonderful roads," Napoleon said. "And as much as I'd like you to take your share of this delightful chore, I'm wondering if I might have more success going on my own."
"You think two of us will look too much like strong-arm tactics?" Illya asked.
"I think you look too much like a Russian, partner mine," Napoleon said bluntly. "Plus, I think we'd all like to know what the Bears are actually up to, that they don't want to tell the Windriders about."
"That makes sense," said Illya.
"Something definitely smells off about those Bears," Pasha confirmed, "but how will we get to their camp, if Napoleon is taking the rover?"
In the end, they agreed that Napoleon would drop Illya off a few miles from the Bears' camp, early in the morning before he went on his rounds of the local Windrider camps. Batu thought it a sound plan, for he too suspected that the Bears were withholding something of importance. He supplied Napoleon with a map marked with Windrider camp locations and notes about who was more predisposed against the Ice Bears, and together they planned a route that had Napoleon travelling in a convoluted loop so that he finished the day headed in the direction of the Bears' camp. Illya would call on his communicator when, and where he needed to be picked up.
They dined, once all the planning was done, on spicy mutton curry served with sheep's milk yogurt and milky, salted tea. An obligatory toast was drunk at the finish of the meal with Mongolian arkhi, or milk vodka, which Napoleon had to work at not making a face when he drank, but which Illya said he could get used to. They retired to their guest yurt afterwards, and although they slept together, daemons at their feet, they'd long ago made a rule to keep business and pleasure separate.
Even when they did not feel the need to set a watch (Batu's aged but canny old heard dog doing a more than adequate job of that) both Napoleon and Illya knew that they could not ever afford to let their guard down on a mission they way they did when they pleasured each other. They leaned across to kiss each other goodnight, and let the kiss linger just a little, but they were both tired too, and would be waking with Batu, before sunrise. They slept close, limbs intertwined comfortably, and woke thusly as well, refreshed and ready for the new day.
Besides having to fight and shoot, drive defensively, build or defuse bombs and so forth, all UNCLE agents were trained in diplomacy as well. Between the two of them, Illya was rather better at hotwiring cars and defusing bombs, and Napoleon was the one who could genially discuss polite nothings with crabby, lecherous and camel-smelling old tribal chieftains for hours without actually having to murder them. Napoleon could not wait to tell Illya how lucky he was to have missed this.
The one thing Illya might have managed better was the required imbibing of various sorts of fermented dairy products (from an astonishing variety of sources). Napoleon was just washing the taste of the most recent out of his mouth with the contents of a flask he'd stashed in the rover's glove box when he heard his communicator signal. It was early, he thought warily, for Illya to be calling… if all had gone as planned.
"Napoleon, I'm glad I caught you," came Illya's voice as soon as he answered. As he listened, Napoleon could hear a loud crashing noise in the background, but Illya didn't give him a chance to inquire.
"There are clearly humans taking part in whatever the Bears are up to. There are a couple of supply sheds with various types of equipment Bears would never use, and a radio shack, which I'm investigating at the moment…" (crash!!) "I've found a codebook, which almost certainly contains Thrush radio codes…" (CRASH!!)
"Illya, what in the blazes…?"
"Yes… unfortunately, it seems that Byrn returned rather sooner than expected…" There was another crash, followed by a splintering sound. Napoleon was already starting the rover and putting it in gear.
"Napoleon, did you know that bears have a remarkable sense of smell?"
"Yes, I did," Napoleon answered, stepping on the gas.
"He knew I was in the radio shack, the second he returned to camp. It's uncanny, really. At any rate…" Napoleon heard more splintering and steered the car off the road to drive directly across country, suspension be damned.
"At any rate," Illya continued a little breathlessly after a moment, "I've sent Pasha ahead to where you dropped me off, with the code book, which should prove fairly incontrovertible evidence, should we be able to link it to Thrush. I have a feeling I'll want a lift myself, assuming there's enough of me left after the angry Armoured Bear gets through the door here…" A huge, splintering crash, followed by a loud wrenching sound interrupted, and then naturally the communicator went dead.
Napoleon didn't bother calling out his partner's name, dropping the communicator on the seat next to Saphina to take the wheel in both hands and step on the gas. Neither one spoke. Twenty or so bone-wrenching minutes later, Saphina alerted Napoleon to Pasha's presence, the little silver-grey fox all but invisible in a clump of tundra grass. He leapt up onto the rover's hood as soon as it slowed, then into the passenger compartment, dropping Illya's dangerously-won code book onto the seat.
Like his human, Pasha would do his duty, even when, as Napoleon could see from the trembling in his ears, he was all but consumed with anxiety. Illya and his Pasha could endure more than most, having endured the gruelling Russian Secret Service training that allowed them to be separated by a far greater distance than any save the witches, with their avian daemons. Napoleon and Saphina could not bear to be more than a dozen yards apart, whereas now, with his human in grave danger, Pasha had remained waiting for Napoleon as ordered, almost a quarter of a mile from Illya.
"Which way?" Napoleon asked, putting the rover back in gear. Pasha whined and pointed the way and Napoleon stepped on the gas again.
The Bears had built their camp in a low spot, probably to avoid being seen, so the first sight Napoleon had was of the radio mast, a girdered, sky-ward pointing needle supported by surrounding guywires. Moments later the rover topped a rise and the whole camp was revealed, just as Illya had described it. A dozen or more typical Ice-Bear long-tents were arrayed in a loose circle, with two very non-traditional equipment sheds set off to the right and just in front of them, where Napoleon's gaze turned immediately, the radio shack, clinging to the base of the tower he'd seen earlier.
Napoleon had known that his arrival would be announced, as the range rover had taken some hits during the recent cross-country trek, not only to the suspension, but also the muffler. As a result, his first view was of a frozen tableau, with both participants looking straight at him. Byrn Ivoson's expression was hard to read, with his face as well as much of his body clothed in armour, but his body language, one massive paw pinning Illya to the ground, the other poised just above Illya's head, to strike or maim, was crystal clear. Illya's face showed a mix of pain and relief, and his complexion was too pale, probably as a result of the blood soaking his pants leg and visibly pooling beneath him.
Napoleon gave himself a full beat to stifle the anxiety he felt and put on the affable and disarming persona he employed for defusing sticky diplomatic situations and hostage negotiations. Securing Illya's safety was a goal concurrent with UNCLE's, but not at all costs; that was something both agents understood intimately. In that moment Napoleon was vaguely aware of the silver streak that was Illya's Pasha, racing to his human's side. When Napoleon stood, hands visible and relaxed as he exited the car, Saphina slipped out alongside him, a cool shadow to his cool poise.
"Forgive me for interrupting," he began as he approached, watching Byrn for any sign that he'd gotten close enough. "But may I ask you to reconsider your actions?"
Byrn lifted his lip to reveal blood-stained white teeth, but made no other move.
"I don't know if you are familiar with the U.N.C.L.E, sir," Napoleon continued, coming to stand just beyond the immediate range of the Armoured Bear's powerful paws, "or of the work we do around the world. I believe you saw our credentials in the last meeting."
"Whoever you are, it's nothing to do with us," Byrn snarled at last. "You come snooping into our business, you pay the price."
"Whether or not UNCLE has any business with the Ice Bears," Napoleon replied, "I'm afraid we almost certainly have business with the people who built those sheds, and that radio transmitter. And if you have allied yourself with them, then I'm very much afraid that it is the Bears that will be paying, and more than likely a much higher price that you've anticipated."
Now Byrn raised his head and his snarl became a sneer. "Do you think to threaten me, UNCLE man?"
"Absolutely not," Napoleon said, spreading his hands. "UNCLE stakes its reputation on peaceful means to achieving peaceful goals. Our Enforcement arm is occasionally called upon to enforce the law with strength of force, but you'll find, if you care to investigate, that UNCLE is widely known as an honest broker. We'll have nothing to do with double dealing or blackmail, and take no reprisals. Naturally, UNCLE has enemies, and while we'll do what we can to protect you from them, if you are protecting them, then our hands are tied."
"Insolent weakling!" Byrn growled, pressing his paw more heavily on Illya so that he grimaced in pain. "How am I to believe that you are not all colluding with each other, you two-leggers!"
"Thrush has already crossed him," Saphina said softly, echoing Napoleon's own thoughts. "His anger hides fear; I can smell it."
"Sir," Napoleon began placatingly, "Chieftain Ivoson, if our enemy has put you under some threat, we may be able to help…"
"I need no help!" Byrn declared, standing to his full intimidating height and releasing Illya, though it was clear that he was in no way able to flee. "You have one of mine and now I have one of yours. You will return my mate to me and then your man will be returned."
"His mate!?" exclaimed Saphina. Napoleon pinched the bridge of his nose desperately.
"I swear to you sir, on my honor, UNCLE knows nothing about the whereabouts of your mate…" Napoleon began.
"What honor would that be?" Byrn retorted, dropping to crouch over Illya again. "Swear by something which you possess instead!"
Napoleon wanted to beat his head against something. "By what would you have me swear, sir? By my country's flag? By UNCLE? By the life of my partner which you hold in your hands? Your hostage is going to bleed to death before I can even determine the location of your missing mate, much less rescue her from our mutual enemies. What good will he do you then?"
"If that is the case then perhaps it is better I make an example of him now, that all may know the consequences of crossing an Armoured Bear." Napoleon felt his vision narrow, to Illya's alarmed expression as he tried to scrabble away, to Pasha, snarling in the face of the massive bear as he raised a deadly, armoured paw.
"Sire, I beg you," Napoleon cried, the words leaving his mouth before he was hardly aware of them. "He is my partner, and my own mate as well. Would you not have the one who holds your mate's life in his hands to show mercy?"
Byrn hesitated, though Napoleon did not think he had changed his mind and sought desperately for further arguments that might stay his hand. Then a new voice intruded into the scene that did.
"Uncle!"
All five heads turned abruptly towards the sound.
"Uncle, for Freya's sake, what are you doing? How can this bloodshed do ought but make things worse?"
Napoleon all but collapsed in relief as he saw Byrn step back, but his first remark was not to the female bear who'd spoken them. "Your mate?" he said, staring incredulously at Napoleon. The look Illya was giving him told Napoleon that he'd be hearing about this for some time to come, but at the moment he really didn't care.
"These two-leggers take mates as they please," the new bear said, coming to stand before the larger, more heavily armoured chieftain, Illya lying prone between them. "It's of no concern to us, save that the dark-haired one's words are worth considering."
"Consider mercy?" scowled Byrn. "Mercy is for the weak!"
"A show of mercy is meaningless unless one has the power to grant it," the newcomer, presumably Byrn's niece, pointed out. "And besides, do you really believe that whoever had the means and ability to take my mother's sister captive would send two more men to incompetently bungle their way into our camp the very next day?"
Napoleon and Saphina exchanged pained glances at the words 'incompetently bungle', but had to admit to her point. Now if only Byrn would see it. It seemed he did, for a moment later the Armoured Bear gave a discontented grumble, but stepped back, allowing Napoleon and Saphina to rush to Illya's side.
Saphina took a detour to fetch the first aid kit from under the rover's passenger seat, but arrived at Illya's side only a fraction of a second after Napoleon. Still it was enough time for Illya to scorch Napoleon with a gaze that would have reduced Napoleon to a cinder had he the power to do so.
"What the hell did he do to you?" Napoleon asked, ignoring Illya's look and instead addressing his torn and bleeding thigh. The two bears had withdrawn a short distance to continue their discussion in private, though the looks Byrn threw in their direction from time to time suggested to Napoleon that he was not entirely ready to let them go yet.
"After Byrn tore the door off the radio shack, I attempted to evade him by crawling under the desk… to buy time!" he amended at Napoleon's amused look. "At any rate, he just stuck his head in through the door, grabbed my leg," (with his teeth, Napoleon filled in silently, with an inward wince) "and dragged me out. He immediately began questioning me about the location of his missing mate, about which, naturally, I knew nothing."
"Not that he believed you," Napoleon muttered knowingly, carefully cutting open Illya's trouser leg and grimacing at what he saw. "So you think it's Thrush behind it?" he asked.
"I know it is," Illya replied. "They haven't exactly taken measures to hide their presence. There's Thrush marked equipment in the sheds, and a Thrush uniform jacket hanging in the radio shack. They must have assumed that the Bears wouldn't know them, and that no one else who did would come around."
"Arrogant as always," Napoleon said, handing the roll of bandage to Saphina who, along with Pasha, was actually doing a good job of helping Napoleon with the bandaging. They'd had practice, over the years. "Any ideas what they're looking to accomplish here, besides general mayhem and chaos?"
"There were no obvious indicators, and most of whatever equipment is meant to be stored in those sheds is out with the rest of the bears," Illya said, wincing as Napoleon's ministrations occasionally pained him. "It looks like some of it consists of metal detectors, though, and possibly also geiger counters. That's based on a few spare parts and packing crates I found."
"Metal detectors and geiger counters?" Napoleon said. "That could mean almost…" He broke off as he saw the smaller Armoured Bear approaching.
"Gentlemen," she began, her deep but melodious voice the only thing giving away her gender. "Our chieftain, my uncle, is not yet convinced that you are not involved in the disappearance of his mate, but I have convinced him to give you a chance to prove otherwise."
"There's nothing we'd rather do, Miss..." Napoleon replied, tying off the bandage and helping Illya to sit upright.
"Siglinda," the bear answered. "And you are?"
"Forgive me," Napoleon said, standing and dusting himself off. "I am Napoleon Solo and this is my partner, Illya Kuryakin. Agents of UNCLE, at your service." He produced his official UNCLE ID from his vest pocket to show her.
"I have heard something of this organization," she said, looking over Napoleon's credentials. "Some say they uphold law and order in the world, others say that they meddle where they are not wanted."
"The latter would certainly be the Czar's opinion, yes?" said Illya.
"Many in the Imperial family think so, but not all," answered Siglinda. "I spent five years in Moskva as bodyguard to one of the Czarinas and overheard much that was presumed to be beyond my understanding. I was keen to leave all the political machinations, maneuvering and betrayals behind when I returned to the northlands, but I swore I would never be ignorant again."
"Then you serve your people well," Illya said, reaching a hand up for Napoleon to help him to his feet. Napoleon was not so sure Illya should be on his feet but knew better than to say so. "Reserve your own judgement on UNCLE until you see what we do here, and you will doing them a service as well."
"Mind you," Napoleon put in, steadying Illya with a hand around his shoulders, "we make no promises, save that we will do our best to discover who is behind this kidnapping."
"And then?" Siglinda demanded. "Whose laws will you enforce?"
"If the crimes concern Bears, then it's the Bears' laws and Bears' justice that will apply," Napoleon said.
Siglinda gave them both a long, measuring gaze. "If this is true," she said at last, "then you will have won the respect of this bear, at least."
"I would consider myself well rewarded," Napoleon replied with his most beguiling smile. Who knew if it would work on bears, he thought, but it was worth a try.
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