It was Illya's first day back at school, after leaving the hospital, and he met with a surprise when he attended his art class, their teacher had been replaced. After the class was over and the other students left on their break, Illya stayed behind to speak with teacher.
"Doyle what are you doing here? Are you trying to earn some extra cash? Don't tell me you're still having trouble with your paycheque?"
"I'm undercover, no I'm only earning my policeman's salary, though with all the hassle I'm getting I should be earning more and yes my paycheque is touring the world at this very moment. More importantly though, what are you doing here? The last I heard you'd been shot and taken to the hospital. I know they said you'd be alright but I expected you to be out of commission for weeks yet."
"It wasn't quite as serious as it looked, just a scratch really."
"Oh yes," Doyle said, obviously not believing him.
"Yes, it was only a bit more serious because I'm so small, if I were still an adult I would've been out in a couple of days. Besides, I still am out of commission. Napoleon made me promise to only observe. If I find out anything, I'm supposed to tell him about it and then stay out of danger."
"Well he's absolutely right." Doyle said.
"So how did things go with Hampton?"
"I've never seen a man's face turn quite so pink. I almost thought he was going to explode. If it wasn't for Mr Waverly's phone call, I'd probably be in England by now getting shouted at by my boss." He frowned for a moment looking down at a slip of paper, "Does that look right to you?"
"Is that what you're getting? No wonder you're complaining about the rate of pay." Illya was suddenly very curious as to why the man would join a service that paid so little, when he obviously cared about money. "Why did you join the police anyway Doyle?"
"Only if you promise not to laugh."
"Okay I promise."
"Idealism."
"Idealism?"
"Yeah, I wanted to make the world a better place."
"I think that's what we all want."
Illya looked closely at Doyle, in his opinion he seemed even younger than Bodie, so he decided to investigate whether Bodie had been telling the truth about not being able to buy alcohol or whether he had been spinning him a line.
"Doyle do you ever get asked for ID?"
Doyle looked up from the paperwork he was flicking through, "Yeah constantly. Why?"
"Just a friend of mine was complaining that he couldn't get any alcoholic drinks because they kept asking him for ID."
"Oh I still get alcohol."
"How?"
"Because I'm old enough, that's how."
"You are? But…"
"But what?"
"Nothing. I was going to say you don't look as old as my friend, but then I thought you'd probably hit me if I said that."
"You were probably right. It's a good job you didn't say that."
"Well I thought so."
As Illya walked past a storage closet a hand reached out and dragged him forcefully inside. Prepared to do battle even in his injured state the Russian looked at who was with him. A young boy with curly hair, stared back at him.
"Where have you been? I was beginning to think you were never coming back."
"Don't tell me you've been hiding in here for a couple of weeks?" Illya smirked.
"Of course not. Something really strange is going on around here.
"Really? Like what?"
"Have you met the new art teacher? He's strange for a start, he talks with a funny accent."
"Yes I've met Mr Doyle. Is that all?"
"No, Mr Slate had me take some sports stuff down to the storage room in the basement and this guy came out. You know that guy in the suit you told me was bad? He looked just like that, the same bulge in his jacket and everything."
"Did he see you? What was he doing?"
"I was just getting to that. He was having a cigarette and I ducked behind some equipment so he wouldn't see me. I wondered where he's come from, so I stayed and followed him. There's a secret entrance of some kind, on one of the walls down there."
"John you'd better not be making this up," he said, with his eyes hard.
"I'm not, honest."
"Show me."
"See I told you."
"Yes you told me now be quiet, while I call for Napoleon."
"You can see it better from over here."
"John," Illya hissed, "get down."
"On the contrary Mr Kuryakin, I think you should stand up," said a male voice from behind him.
Illya was fuming. He was presently tied to a certain boy with dark curly hair. He cursed his own stupidity. Once again having been caught by those darn scientists, who had put him in his present predicament, only this time he knew a bit more about them. Their name for instance, their leader had gloated out his plans, for him at least. They were going to kill him, eventually.
The name of their group was MUNCHKIN and their operation was called Peter Pan. Apparently children's stories held some sort of weird fascination for them. Illya was beginning to think that maybe his dream after he was shot might not have been entirely because they'd been reading it in school. There was every possibility that he had overheard MUNCHKIN mentioned while in their presence the first time and his subconscious had filed it away.
Why oh why hadn't he informed someone exactly where he was going?
Napoleon stood with Mark, April and Bodie in the sports hall preparing to enter the main school building and rescue Illya. Napoleon's communicator began to beep, sounding very loud in the hall and made everyone jump. Napoleon opened the channel and greeted Mr Waverly.
"Good afternoon sir and to what do we owe…"
"Mr Solo, may I speak with Mr Bodie?" Waverly asked cutting Napoleon off in mid sentence.
"Uh yes sir." He handed his communicator over to Bodie who stared into it.
"Bodie here sir."
"Mr Bodie, I'd like you to report to UNCLE headquarters at once."
"But sir, I was just about to…"
"I said at once Mr Bodie."
"Yes sir, running all the way sir."
"I guess it's just the three of us then," Napoleon stated a little too cheerily after Bodie had left.
Illya was struggling to free himself from the ropes. But whenever he tried to wriggle free pain flared in his chest reminding him of his recent injury. He looked across at McEnroe. He wasn't so bothered for himself, but rather the boy who was with him.
"I'm sorry." McEnroe said catching his stare.
"That's okay it wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have gotten you involved in the first place."
"But if I hadn't insisted that you see for yourself before contacting anyone…"
"Yes you did didn't you? …Actually it was your fault."
"Mark what's going on?" Doyle asked as he saw the three people heading towards the school basement with guns.
"Hello Ray, apparently Illya and all those missing scientists are being held down in the basement. Why don't you call your police department for backup?"
"It'd take a long time to get here from London, don't you think? Besides, this is my case. One of those scientists is British and he's my responsibility."
Doyle spotted a familiar face standing smoking against one of the walls, as they crouched behind some sports equipment. He whispered to Napoleon, "I've seen him before. He was the guy I saw just before I was knocked out. Where do you suppose he came from?"
"Perhaps we should ask him?"
Illya was rather surprised to see Napoleon, Mark and April charging into the secret laboratory. Followed by Ray Doyle.
"How did you…?"
"Find you? You mean you didn't see me planting that homing device on you this morning? I must be improving. Pretty soon I'll be as sneaky as you are my little Russian friend."
"Where are all the missing scientists kept then?" Doyle asked the MUNCHKIN leader.
"You heard him," Slate added, pointing a gun at the leaders' head, "where are they?"
"Doyle is that you?" The boys' voice spoke from one of the cages. The accent was quite obviously an upper class English one.
"Professor Edwards?" He turned addressing the others, "Alright, how the hell am I going to explain to my boss that he's their missing scientist?"
"Where's the antidote Doctor?"
"The antidote?"
"The antidote to the age reversal project. Operation Peter Pan. Don't play ignorant with me. There must be one."
"But we haven't tested it properly."
"You mean to say you turned all these scientists into children and don't even know if you can change them back?"
"That is correct. We've had success with certain animals but no humans as yet."
"I'll have to be the guinea pig then."
"Illya," April said, "what are you saying?"
"It's the only way, I have to do this."
"But you could die, he's the enemy how can you possibly trust him?"
"I don't, I trust you, my friends."
"If you're willing to do this then it's not my responsibility if…"
"You're wrong." Solo said in a deadly calm tone, "if he dies, you die."
"But you heard him he's willing to take the risk… You can't threaten me like that."
"Oh it's not a threat, it's a promise. If you allow my friend to die, you will join him, and I promise your death will not be a pleasant one. You'll die slowly."
"Roll up your sleeve." The doctor said reluctantly. His hands were shaking slightly as they held the needle. Illya took it from him and handed it to Napoleon. "What are you doing?"
"The way your hands were shaking Doctor you'd never get the needle in me and I'd end up with dozens of puncture wounds as well. Napoleon can do it."
Napoleon pressed the needle into the Russian's arm.
Nothing happened for a moment and they thought perhaps the antidote didn't work, then things started to happen. Sweat was pouring off the boy's forehead and he crouched in a ball, holding his chest tightly. Screams started escaping from between the boy's mouth and the Doctor started looking rather worried. He reached down to check the boys vitals and his hand came away bloody. He loosened the clothing and stared at the reopened bullet wound.
"What the hell is this?" The Doctor asked with horror shown clearly on his face, "This boy has been shot. The antidote places an enormous strain on all the vital functions. He should have been perfectly healthy before the antidote was administered. Why wasn't I told about this?"
"You never asked. Will he be okay?"
"I don't know. We need to get him to the hospital as soon as possible."
More worrying than the boy's whimpers was the sudden silence as Illya passed out.
The antidote had been successful to a certain extent and Illya was an adult again. He was however, still unconscious in the hospital bed. He was also wired up to machinery. Napoleon listened to the steady rhythmic bleeping of the heart monitors. He looked up when the bleeping changed. Doctors and Nurses rushed in.
Napoleon watched them working frantically and then they stopped.
One doctor turned to Napoleon and said, "I'm sorry. There was just nothing we could do."
Napoleon looked numbly at his friend, "Can I have some time alone with him?"
"Of course Mr Solo."
Napoleon walked over to the bed and touched the lifeless body of his friend.
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