Authors Note

I'd like to thank The Darklady for reading this story through and checking for errors.
You may now start humming the Man from UNCLE theme tune (if you really want to) and begin reading the story (again if you really want to).

First posted: 24th April 01, Completion date: 10th November 01

Napoleon Solo was leading the assault team, looking for his partner. They'd received a tip off from an unknown source that the Russian was being held here, in this laboratory. Being that they'd not heard any news of his partner in days, Napoleon was willing to grasp at any straws. Napoleon was a little worried about what sort of tests might have been done to his partner. Being held by the enemy was never good due to the amount of damage they could inflict but with scientists... he shuddered. They were searching rooms, lots of empty rooms. Could it mean that they had finished their experiments and had disposed of their guinea pigs? No, he wouldn't think about that. Illya would be all right. He had to be.

He looked through the glass panel in the door of another room. There was a lump in a bed curled up under the covers. All he could see was a patch of blonde hair on the pillow. It could be Illya, but he got the feeling there was something not quite right about the lump. It was too small for a start. He unlocked the door and went inside, looking around to make sure there was no one else there, he reached down and pulled back the covers.

Not Illya.

It was a small blonde-haired child of perhaps about six or seven. A small boy dressed in dark blue pyjamas trembling on the bed. He sat down beside the child trying to be gentle yet at the same time needing information, if the boy possessed it, about the whereabouts of his friend. He turned the young boy over to look at his face and looked into a pair of sad blue eyes. The gaze was so similar to that of his friend that he was taken aback. The bruises around the boys' eyes spoke of some of the ill treatment he had received from his captors.

"Em hello there little boy, I'm Napoleon Solo and I'm looking for a friend of mine, Illya Kuryakin, you wouldn't know where they might be keeping him would you?" The boy didn't answer so Napoleon continued on, unaware if the boy was even able to understand him. "He's blonde, a little smaller than me, with blue eyes. Do you know what they've done with the other prisoners?" The boy shook his head, but Napoleon got the feeling the boy knew something but perhaps didn't feel like discussing it. "What's your name young man?" The boy stared at him with ice-blue eyes. "Can you speak?" This time he received a nod in the affirmative. "Then speak." The child's face took on a vaguely amused expression, but still didn't speak.

Just then one of the members of Solo's assault team burst in. He was a rather large and bulky man, who often give people the impression he was a thug.

"Report Agent Masters."

"Sir there's no signs of any of the scientists, they seem to have cleared out in a hurry. No signs of Kuryakin either, they've probably got him with them. Something interesting though, all the animals they've been working on are young. There are puppies and kittens and young from other species. What do you suppose they were working on sir?"

"I don't know, but this boy might. Take him to headquarters."

As Masters manhandled the boy to his feet, his pyjama top wrinkled up and Solo noticed a tapestry of scars on the boys' back.

"Wait," Napoleon said, as Masters was about to lead the boy away. "Let me see his back."

"What is it sir?" He asked as Napoleon had lifted the back of the boys' shirt and was examining the scars more closely.

"These scars look like they were caused by a strap. By the looks of them they've been healed for a while. We may be dealing with a case of abuse which has went on for years."

"Child abuse, you mean sir?"

"I er didn't say that exactly." Looking slightly uncomfortable, Napoleon continued, "remove the boys pants."

The boy wriggled out of Masters grip and backed away.

"What exactly do you hope to find sir? Apart from the obvious."

"If I'm right I should find a small knife scar on the boys' left thigh."

They both looked across at where the boy was standing pressed up against the wall in a defensive posture and approached him slowly.

"Em Mr Solo, listen I have no desire to be manhandled by your friend here, so..." the boy said uneasily, as he started pulling up his pyjama leg. "There you are," announced the proud voice with its Russian accent, as he revealed his left thigh, which was marked with a small scar.

"You were right Mr Solo."

"Yes I was, wasn't I?" He said, as he moved to the other side of the cell. "All right. Take the boy to Headquarters. Keep him under guard at all times. Don't underestimate him. When you get him there I want medical to thoroughly check him out. I want blood type, medical history, fingerprints, the lot and I want them to do a comparison with the medical records of Illya Kuryakin." Solo looked across at the boy, who was smiling slightly.

"Yes sir, and where will you be?"

"I'll be having an extra look around this building, though somehow I don't think we're going to find Illya here or with those scientists."

"Do you think he's dead sir?"

"No I don't think he's dead. I just get the feeling that the little Russian is hidden in plain view as it were." He glanced at the boys' reaction to his usage of the word 'little,' yes that had wiped the smile off his face.

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