Title: Into Madness

Author/pseudonym: Alyssa Tabanova

Fandom: Man From U.N.C.L.E.

Pairing: Napoleon Solo/Illya Kuryakin

Rating: NC-17

Status: NEW, story in progress

Series/Sequel: none

Notes: I thought I'd give this a try. It takes a little while to get to the sex, so don't be looking for it right away. I haven't been able to find a beta for my MFU stories, so I'm really sorry but you're going to get all my mistakes.

Summary: During a mission Napoleon receives an overload of information and is driven slowly insane. Can Illya save his partner from madness, and himself from Napoleon?

Warnings: m/m sex, first time, violence, strong language--perhaps in a couple different languages


Into Madness
by Alyssa Tabanova

The light blazed on in a darkened room, sending the shadows fleeing back to their corners. The illumination lasted for only moments as, with a flick of a switch, the room was once again bathed in the black of night. Seconds later the lights came on in the next room only to go out as quickly as the first.

Chula Santos was not his usual efficient self as he made his way through the main house on his rounds. Ordinarily he took his time, enjoying his nightly patrols, using them as an excuse to get away from the rest of the Colonel's hired guards. He would sometimes even tempt fate by relaxing in the luxurious living quarters for a while before heading back to the stark barracks. Of course, that was when he was certain the Colonel wasn't going to be back for a long time.

Yet tonight he gave only a fleeting look into each room before moving to the next. He was in a hurry to get back to the guard quarters.

Tonight the putas were there.

Being stuck in a compound in the middle of the Peruvian jungle with twenty-four other mercenaries was tolerable -- if the pay was right. And, as their employer had learned, if there was at least one night a month when their baser natures could be satisfied and the village prostitutes be allowed into the enclosure. The Colonel grudgingly allowed his men this night of debauchery only if they kept the ruckus to a minimum, and if they made certain any "mistakes" were handled promptly.

Unexpectedly, the Colonel had given them an extra night this month. The whores had shown up at the gate just as Chula had begun his security rounds. He knew he needed to hurry back if he didn't want to deal with someone's seconds. Not that it mattered to him, he'd screw anything with a hole, but he hated taking a ribbing from the other mercs the next day.

Chula flipped in the light to the study, his eyes doing a quick scan of the room. His fingers had already shut the light off before his mind registered there was something out of place. He clicked the light back on and entered the room. The mercenary's eyes fell on the small but supposedly expensive painting that hung behind the huge, highly polished desk. It was just a tad bit crooked, but it was something the obsessively neat Colonel would never stand for.

He made his way behind the desk and eyed the offending picture. After a moment he shrugged and straightened it. Seconds later the light snapped off and Chula was on his way to join his comrades already in the process of celebrating.

The study fell quiet, the only interruption to the silence was the occasional feminine squeal from the direction of the guard quarters.

A full five minutes after Chula had left the room, a shadow detached itself from a corner and moved stealthy behind the great desk. The shadow took on a human shape dressed in black as it reached for the painting, gently dislodging from its hanger to reveal a small wall safe behind it.

The black-clad figure made quick work of the combination lock, but paused as the turning of the handle produced an audible click. The form remained still until it had decided the sound had not been heard, then finished opening the safe.

The shadow reached past the large stack of American currency, moved aside the pile of bearer bonds, and gave only a cursory glance to the large diamond nestled on its silken pillow. It instead found its prize in a large, very plain looking envelope.

The figure smoothed out the contents of the envelope onto the desk, carefully make sure of each piece of paper that was there.

Four bright flashes of light later, the envelope, its contents, and all the rest of the safe's treasures were back where they had been before they had been disturbed. The painting went back on its hook, straight this time, and the shadow melted back into the darkness where it came from.

With none the wiser it had ever been there.

Outside a guard paused while lighting his cigarette and looked to the main house. Were those flashes of light he had seen in the study window? He took a step toward the building but a delicate giggle behind him made him stop. With a final glance to the house, he turned and joined his companion for the night. The girls came so rarely and he wasn't going to waste what little time he had with them chasing down what was probably no more than a reflection.

No one saw the shadow flow over the perimeter wall and disappear into the night.

+++++++

"Mr. Kuryakin, I have small matter I wish to discuss with you."

Alexander Waverly had been far too quiet since he had summoned his top two U.N.C.L.E. enforcer to the conference room fro a meeting. The silence had stretched on until both Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin had to force themselves to not squirm in their seats. Being in a room with a disapproving Alexander Waverly was not the most pleasant of experiences, even for seasoned U.N.C.L.E. agents.

When 'The Old Man', as Waverly was affectionately called -- if it was certain he was out of ear shot -- said Illya's name, Napoleon had a hard time containing his sigh of relief as he sent his partner a sympathetic look.

Illya ignored his American co-worker's look of compassion, instead adopting a ramrod straight pose as he waited for his reprimand.

"I have received your latest reimbursement voucher from our billing department, and I am having trouble reconciling why U.N.C.L.E. is paying a Madam Acomodada from Peru a sum total of..." Alexander shuffled through the paperwork before him. "one thousand dollars. Do you care to enlighten me on the nature of this expense?"

Napoleon raised an eyebrow and looked over at his normally restrained partner. He wanted to hear the answer to this question himself.

"It was for party favors, sir." Illya answered with a straight face.

"Yes...well, I find one thousand dollars a steep price for 'party favors'." Waverly's searching gaze seemed to drill holes through Illya's composure.

"There were twenty-five 'party favors', sir, and they stayed the whole night." Illya offered the explanation, thought for a moment, then added, "They were used as a distraction."

"Twenty-five, all night? I'd say they were a distraction. Illya, you devil." Napoleon needled his partner.

Illya shot the American a withering glare.

Alexander, however, seemed satisfied with the answer and laid the matter to rest with a final mild admonishment.

"I hope that you will be discrete with your hiring of 'party favors' in the future." And to Illya's nod The Old Man added slyly, "I would hate to see your expense reports begin to resemble Mr. Solo's."

Realizing he had just been insulted, Napoleon opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. With a sour look, he accepted the folder Waverly handed to him and settled back in his chair to read its contents.

"Mr. Kuryakin's recognizance mission to Peru has turned up some startling information." Alexander said as he flipped opened his own file.

Illya also began reading the information he had been given. He had barely been able to make out the scrawling handwriting in that darkened study, and he had been in far too much of a hurry to actually study the information he had photographed. It was only now that he could view the fruits of his labors and see what secrets that tiny office safe had held.

"I believe that both of you should remember that seven months ago you had been assigned to destroy a cybernetic device T.H.R.U.S.H. had designed to store all of the world's knowledge in." Waverly began his lecture by jogging the enforcer's memories.

"The Ultimate Computer Affair." Napoleon remembered.

"Yes." Waverly continued. "It took two attempts to destroy the device, and now it appears that T.H.R.U.S.H. may have taken precautions to save the data they had already collected."

"Are you saying we destroyed the computer but the information it contained may still be in the hands of T.H.R.U.S.H.?" Illya bit back his sigh of frustration.

It had taken quite a bit of effort, not to mention a couple of beatings on his part, to neutralize that blasted machine. For it to have been all for nothing was...disappointing...to say the least.

"If the papers you photographed are to be believed, yes." Waverly answered. "This seems to be the schematic for an information storage unit of unequalled proportions." Alexander pointed out one of the papers from the file. "Our researchers have gone over it and claim that the volume of information it can store is astronomical. But T.H.R.U.S.H. has one problem..."

"It's good to know we're not the only ones who have problems." Napoleon interrupted with a grumble.

Waverly gave the American a disapproving look that had Napoleon wishing he had held his tongue.

"When you destroyed the computer, you destroyed the only way they could transfer the data out of the storage unit and use it."

"So, they have all of that information, but no way to get at it?" Illya made certain he understood.

"Precisely." Alexander affirmed. "What we must accomplish is to retrieve the storage unit, and destroy any tranfer system that T.H.R.U.S.H. may be working on."

"Sounds simple enough." Napoleon said, but there was a certain dryness in his tone.

"There is a reference to a laboratory in Greece near the city of Serrai. I believe that is where you should begin your search." Alexander closed his folder. With a stern glance at the two enforcers, he made sure they understood the seriousness of their mission.

"Gentlemen, we must end this threat once and for all. In this day and age information is power. Those who hold the information can rule this world from behind closed doors. We must be certain that it is not T.H.R.U.S.H. behind those doors."

With that, U.N.C.L.E.'s chief executive stood and exited the room, leaving his most trusted personnel to begin their mission.

"Yes, it would so much better if we were the ones behind those closed doors." Illya stated after Waverly was gone.

But whether or not Illya was serious, Napoleon could not interpret from the inscrutable expression on the Russian's face.



***end part 1***