***
They stuck out like a sore thumb, Illya realised, men with suits and bulges in their jackets. Thrush goons, loitering around the school area and within the grounds. 'What did they want?' he wondered.
He sneaked around trying to discover their purpose and then saw the guard on the head teachers' door. Napoleon had a meeting in there that morning, he remembered. It would be too much to hope that the meeting had concluded. He picked up the homing device planted in one of Napoleon's buttons on his boy-scout compass, it indicted that Napoleon was indeed inside the room. 'Yes,' he realised, 'it was too much to hope.' Now he had to decide how he, a six year old boy was going to rescue Napoleon all by himself. Against all those big thug-type men, then he thought about it some more. Why should he have all the fun, after all there was Mark and April to consider, they might feel left out if he didn't involve them.
"Mark where are you?"
"I've taken the football team to a match. Why do you ask?"
"Well you'd better get back here quickly, the school's been overrun with Thrush and Napoleon's been captured."
"What are you going to do?"
"What I can."
"Illya?" He asked concerned, but it was too late, the Russian had signed off. Mark realised he had better return post haste to the school. If he allowed something bad to happen to Illya, then Napoleon would make his future very bleak.
The incessant beeping continued and still April wasn't answering, then at last. "Dancer here."
"April where are you?"
"In the shower," she said, dripping water on the floor, "why do you ask?"
"A little bird has Napoleon, get over here now."
"Illya I'm buck naked," she replied shocked.
"Well, get over here like that and you can be a distraction," he said with a smile.
"You mean create a distraction?" She corrected.
"Hey if you were buck naked you'd do both."
As Illya signed off he realised that Napoleon's fate was now up to him, and any innocents he could recruit along the way.
"John, you see that man guarding the door?"
"Yes what about him?"
"He's a bad person and he and his pals are holding a friend of mine, so I wondered if you might create a distraction."
"But what could I do?"
"Throw a tantrum?"
"A what?"
"Like at the tennis game."
"But I can't just turn my anger on and off like that."
"All right, you're playing an opponent in tennis and that man wants the other boy to win, so he keeps calling all those close calls, out, even though they're on the line." Illya saw the flash of anger in the other boy's eyes, and put a hand on his shoulder, "if he looks like he's going to get dangerous you get as far away from here as possible."
"What about you?"
"Don't worry about me, nobody else does. Now go and get him, and make sure he can't see the door."
Napoleon Solo, was not having a very good morning. First his advances had been turned down and now he was chained up. Well not exactly chained, more like handcuffed. The head teacher had been called away to deal with an unruly child and he remembered thinking at the time that he hoped it wasn't Illya. Now he was uncertain whether there had been any child at all and that it had all been a ruse to get him alone.
Outside the door, Napoleon heard a commotion. A young boy shouting at the thrush guarding the door and he could only hope that the man wasn't fool enough to overreact. He saw the door open and a blonde head peep in and knew what was happening, a rescue. He held his breath as the gas pellet was thrown on the floor and then leapt to his feet, to knock the Thrush leader and goon over, before escaping through the open door. As Napoleon rammed himself at the thrushie outside the door Illya dragged John forcefully away from the man, the boy just didn't seem to know when to quit.
Illya warned John to find a secure hiding place until all the bad guys had been dealt with. They meanwhile made a sharp exit towards the parking lot where some more thrush started coming towards them. Illya reached into Napoleon's pocket for his car keys.
"Illya I can't drive," he said indicating the handcuffs behind his back.
"So what else is new?"
"I meant with these handcuffs on…"
"My drivers licence is still valid you know."
"Illya you can't reach the pedals."
"I'm sure we'll work something out. Stop arguing and get in."
Using a pair of sticks to press down on the pedals, Illya drove straight out of the gate and then manoeuvred behind a wall to wait.
"What are we doing?" Napoleon asked concerned wondering why they were sitting behind the wall.
"We are waiting for the Thrush leader to come out of the school so we can follow him back to his base, using the homing device I planted on his car."
"Oh, smart Russian."
He wasn't going to mention that Bodie was also going to follow the device as well as a precaution, after all a spy had to have some secrets. They didn't have long to wait, before the game of follow my leader began.
As they were driving along in the car, chasing the homing signal, Napoleon felt that now was a good time to discuss a few things with Illya.
"Illya you put that boys life in unnecessary danger, anything could have happened to him."
"What about all those bimbos you recruit to help you, they could get killed too."
"That's different, they know what to expect. He's just a child."
"What about me? I'm just a child too."
"That's different and you know it."
"Do I? I'm 108 cm and 17 kg…"
"Could we have that in American measurements please?"
"42 inches and 38 lbs.," Napoleon looked at him, he wasn't even going to ask about how on earth the Russian had come up with the conversion so quickly, the Russian continued talking, "anything could happen to me."
"I'm aware of that, but you're a volunteer…"
"I didn't volunteer for this. Isn't it against your American laws to make a child work under a certain age? I'm no different to that McEnroe boy, perhaps at less of an advantage. At least he knows his limitations, I don't."
"You're still Illya Kuryakin…"
"I know that. People expect me to act like a grown up and yet on some level I'm also supposed to act like a child. I try to act as usual, but every time I do I wind up on my butt."
"What are you trying to say Illya?"
"If you must get yourself captured could you at least do it when there's someone other than myself around to rescue you. Well at least until you find a way to change me back anyway."
"And if we can't change you back?"
"It will get very expensive for you putting me through college."
"What do you mean through college? Illya you have a Ph.D."
"I know but if I have to go through school again I may as well make good use of my time. There're possibly other areas I can do degrees in. Why I could be a genius."
"Illya you're good, but not that good."
"I am that good, by six year old standards anyway."
Raymond Doyle was feeling bored. He'd been acting as a liaison for several weeks now, to the police department of a quiet suburban district in America and nothing much had happened. In fact he was beginning to wish he'd stayed at home, more seemed to happen there. Of course he hadn't exactly been given a choice.
He was also feeling slightly worried. His partner was nicknamed Chunky, due to the fact that he was rather overweight and kept stuffing his face almost constantly with junk food. What worried him most was not the fact that if they had to give chase to any criminals that Sergeant Hampton was not going to keep up. No he was more worried about the enormous risk he was taking, being in the car with the man who could possibly suffer a heart attack at any moment, as he drove along eating anything which couldn't outrun him.
They were complete opposites, chalk and cheese. They had hated each other right from the start.
"Can't I drive for a bit?"
"Why?"
Doyle decided against telling him the real reason and settled for, "I'm bored. We're supposed to take the driving in turns aren't we?"
"Not in my car. I outrank you Doyle."
"Yes and you'll never let me forget it will you?"
"I didn't want this assignment, I got stuck with you cause my partner was in the hospital."
'Yes and who put him there,' he thought, but wasn't foolish enough to say, "Yes sir," he said in a disrespectful manner. He then continued in almost a whisper, "Have a puncture on me sir."
"If I have any flat tyres boy, you'll mend them."
"Yes, sir," he continued in the same manner, "anything you say sir."
Napoleon was struggling to manoeuvre his feet through the loops in his arms, trying to get his hands in front of him so he could take over the driving from Illya. Unfortunately he was finding it difficult to keep his balance and remain in a sitting position, due to the Russian's erratic driving. Whenever they went around a corner Napoleon had his head banged off the side window.
Given that Illya was having difficulty maintaining control of the car it was a wonder that they lasted as long as they did. Napoleon had only just managed to get his handcuffed wrists in front of him when they heard it, the sound of sirens at their rear.
Hampton in a bid to not let his younger partner do anything interesting, decided to handle the situation himself.
Doyle leaned casually up against the police car. If it wasn't for the hideous checked jacket he was wearing, he could quite easily look like he was modelling fashion for a catalogue.
"Could you step out of the car please sir?" The cop stopped short when he realised he was speaking with a boy. He waved Doyle over and indicated he take the other side of the car.
"Look I can explain…" began Napoleon.
"Oh yes?" Doyle broke in, noticing the handcuffs on Napoleon's wrists.
Napoleon looked the policeman over. That couldn't be a perm could it?
"Could you gentlemen both step out of the car," Hampton repeated.
Bodie parked his car a distance behind the police vehicle with a muttered, "bloody coppers."
"Look if you just turn that communicator to channel d, we can clear all this up."
"Should I sir?"
"Go ahead."
Doyle turned the communicator onto the setting that Napoleon indicated, and out blasted Sonny and Cher singing their rendition of "I've got you babe" very loudly. Doyle jumped in surprise.
"Got any more tricks you'd like to share with us?"
"Wait, try one of the other channels." He winced as Doyle kept tuning into more radio channels, where the uncle channels were supposed to be, which were all apparently playing Sonny and Cher.
"Doesn't this bloody thing come with a volume control? Do you want me to smash it sir?" Doyle asked becoming increasingly short tempered with the annoying song.
"No just turn it off."
Illya smiled at the expression on Napoleon's face. Then he turned to where he knew Bodie would be, having been following them. He bowed at Bodie and Bodie bowed back. The exchange was not lost on Napoleon, who realised quite rightly that this predicament was all Illya's fault. Nor was it lost on Doyle the observant policeman that he was.
"Sir they seem to have an accomplice in the bushes, should I go after him?"
"No I will, you have no jurisdiction here."
"Of course sir."
"You think he'll catch him?" Illya asked once the policeman called Hampton was out of earshot.
"No," Napoleon replied, "Bodie's too quick for him."
"Anyone's too quick for him." Doyle added.
"Illya what did you do to my communicator?"
"I was testing a new device."
"I don't care if you were test firing a rocket to the moon. Switch it off."
After Napoleon had spoken with Mr Waverly, he turned back to Doyle.
"Will you believe us now and let us go?"
"I would, but I can't," he said frankly. "You see Hampton's quite right I have no jurisdiction here. If I were to let you go, he'd have me on a plane back to England so fast my head would spin."
"You could always say we overpowered you."
"DO YOU WANTA TRY IT MATE?" Doyle suddenly shouted at him.
Napoleon sighed, why was he slowly being surrounded by all these quick-tempered people, he wondered.
"If we don't get out of here soon, that homing device is going to be useless."
"Not really, Bodie will follow them." Illya replied.
"Bodie is being chased by a policeman."
"No he isn't," Illya pointed at the smiling Bodie, as he high-tailed it out of there, having apparently lost the policeman. Tires screeched as Bodie sped off. The wheels turned in Doyle's head and he reached a decision.
"This gives me the perfect opportunity, you two in the back seat." They climbed into the back and Doyle started up the engine.
"Aren't you worried about what your partner's going to say?"
"No my defence is a good one, want to hear it?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Whilst guarding the two prisoners, Police Constable Doyle noticed another suspect, in whatever crime these persons were involved in. He decided to follow said suspect until he could effect his capture."
"What are you doing here, anyway Doyle?" Napoleon asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," said Napoleon in a upper class English accent, "you're a little far away from home, eh what?"
"Say that's very good. Can you do an English accent as well?" Napoleon pursed his lips as if to say, very funny and Doyle continued, "we had a case back in England involving a missing scientist. We followed a trail that led us to believe that the kidnappers, were holding him somewhere in this area."
"Why you? I mean no offence but you're awfully young to make a suitable liaison." Napoleon couldn't help smiling at the look Illya gave him at the mention of the word 'young'.
"Yes that seems to be one of the problems that Sergeant Hampton has with me. As for the reason, well, that's probably due to necessity. We had a tip off that someone might try to do off with this scientist and I was on guard duty. I managed to get a good look at the guy's face before I was bopped on the head from behind," he said with obvious embarrassment.
"Hey don't worry about it, it happens," Illya said and Napoleon gave him a strange look, "Couldn't they have just sent a composite?"
"I offered to draw one myself, but my boss wouldn't hear of it. It seems he's under the impression that the Americans will just put it on the backburner."
"I suppose that's why we're here," Illya said quietly to Napoleon.
"Mr Waverly you crafty old dog." Mr Waverly had obviously been reading Doyle's reports and hadn't bothered mentioning to them all the reasons why he had sent them to this particular place.
"Is that to be Mr Waverly's official title now?" Illya smirked at him.
"So why did you think I was here?" Doyle called over his shoulder conversely as he was following Bodie's car.
"I don't know, maybe a culture swap or something of that nature." Napoleon replied.
"Culture swap?" Doyle laughed. "I've seen very little culture here, unless you count the donut and coffee houses."
"I gather you're not overly thrilled with your current assignment?"
"S'fine, the only problem is my paycheque seems to be seeing more of the world than I am."
"What do you mean?"
"It's travelling in the post from England, however it seems to be finding it's way via the North Pole and I'm probably getting robbed on the exchange rate as well. I hope this doesn't affect my pension. How's the pay in your line of work?" Doyle asked with the air of someone looking for a new job, which paid better than his current one.
"Not good, Illya and I have to work very hard for a living and with very few rewards." Napoleon said with warning, "Our boss, Mr Waverly, is very cheap," he said and Illya nodded his head, vigorously agreeing with him.
Napoleon remained silent throughout the rest of the journey pondering Illya's strange behaviour. Why would Illya deliberately sabotage his communicator when they were working on an important mission? Also there was the question of how he'd carelessly given away Bodie's position to the police. Could it be that Illya was destined to become a child in mind as well as body? Could he still be trusted to do his job? He'd have to have a talk with him after this was over, he decided.
On reaching Thrush headquarters, Napoleon first of all communicated with April and Mark on the situation at the school. They reported that all was well now and that they would be making their way to help with the raid on Thrush headquarters.
Napoleon had managed to persuade Doyle to release him from his handcuffs using his handcuff keys.
After briefly looking the place over, they decided to split forces. Doyle took the back way in. Shortly after his departure they'd noticed Bodie hiding in a bush.
"Hello Napoleon, Illya, you took your time getting here didn't you? I was beginning to think you were going to join the copper in some coffee and donuts."
"Listen Bodie, we haven't much time. You can either stand here and wait for reinforcements and tell them your jokes or you can take the side door into this place."
"I can hardly stand here and watch while you two get yourselves killed. I've got to give Mr Waverly his money's worth. Somehow I'm under the impression that if he's dissatisfied with my work I'll find it very difficult finding another job."
Bodie went in the side door, whilst they took the front way in.
As he entered a room with little Illya in tow, Napoleon found himself face to face with Illya Kuryakin, the adult, who had a gun pointed at his head.
"Illya! But if you're Illya… who's that?"
"Who's what Napoleon?" The blonde man asked, trying to appear as calm as any man could who had a gun pointed at his head.
"The child."
"You did you're job very well boy, in getting Solo here to us." The Thrush Henchman congratulated the child.
"What?" The boy looked very surprised. "Napoleon you have to…"
"You're saying he's not Illya? But the boy has the same scars as Illya, and he remembers everything he should know."
"Oh come now Mr Solo, scars can be faked, memories can be tampered with, children can be brainwashed." The Thrush henchman indicated to the boy, "Come on boy, there's no need to pretend or play innocent anymore, you know very well that your orders were to bring Solo here."
"Napoleon please believe me, you have to…"
"Shut up."
"Now Mr Solo, I'd like you to drop your gun or Mr Kuryakin will have an extra hole in his head." The goons forced the blonde man down onto his knees.
"Don't do it Napoleon he's going to kill me anyway." The blonde man warned.
"He won't, it's one of his own men." The boy replied, but was ignored.
"What reassurances do I have?" Napoleon asked.
"Why none of course. I like it that way. I could just kill him. But if you force me I'll do it now. Times up Mr Solo, Mr Kuryakin dies."
"Wait," Napoleon dropped the gun and kicked it away.
The boy rolled his eyes, and whispered, "Fool."
The next moment happened very quickly. The boy noticed someone creeping up behind Napoleon with a gun. Before the man could fire and shoot Napoleon in the back, the boy leapt in front of it. The force of the bullet slammed him to the floor.
Napoleon forgetting about the gun trained on him, went to the boy. The blood from the boy's chest was seeping through the bullet ripped shirt and pooling on the floor. The boy was taking shallow and quick breaths, not thinking of anything other than breathing and fighting off the darkness. Napoleon brushed the hair on the boys' forehead, and as he did so his hand rubbed against a patch of rough skin. Something they couldn't fake. It wasn't visible to the eye, only to the sense of touch and Napoleon was only aware of it, as he'd been there when it happened. There was no doubt now who the child was and it explained why he'd tried to save his life.
The blue eyes looked into Napoleon's and then looked down at his chest, then back up again as if trying to convey a message. What was it the Russian was trying to tell him?
The Thrush henchman began to gloat, "Oh Mr Solo, you are a very foolish man. Would the real Kuryakin stand up please…"
The next instant the gloating stopped. Illya felt Napoleon reach into his holster for his apparent toy gun, finally, he thought to himself. He closed his eyes as he heard the gunshots and tears of pain escaped from them, rolling down his cheeks. He heard Napoleon returning to his level. He opened his eyes and his vision started to blur. He saw April and Mark, Bodie, and Doyle. But mostly he saw Napoleon, and the worried expression on his face. He tried to offer a reassuring smile, that he was going to be okay, but he wasn't sure of that himself. As he began to sink down amid the dreams and darkness, he couldn't help but think how small his coffin was going to be.
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