THE MIND CONTROL AFFAIR

 

It was the last thing he would ever have expected.  And from his partner, no less.  The man he thought was his best friend in the whole world, his ally against those who would do him harm. To be treated this way was beyond mere betrayal.  It was...an act of war!

"You are dead, Napoleon Solo," Illya Kuryakin faced his one-time friend and now enemy.

"Now Illya..." Napoleon put his hands up in a gesture of remorse.  "You can't blame me.  I was possessed, out of my mind.  That's it!  I was under the mind control of THRUSH!"

"THRUSH made you hit me with a snowball when my back was turned?"

"I can see you're having trouble believing me," he said, his hands still raised in submission.

"It is hard to believe you are sincere when you are smiling," the blond bent down and scooped up a handful of freshly fallen snow.  With practiced ease, he shaped the harmless substance into a round, firm grenade.

"Illya, you don't want to do this..." Napoleon took a step in retreat.

"Watch me," Illya drew his right arm back, preparing to fire.

"May I remind you that I outrank you and to attack me would be tantamount to insubordination?"

"Fine.  Write me up!" the Russian lobbed his salvo, hitting his superior square in the forehead.

"Now you've done it," Napoleon growled under his breath as he wiped the slush from his face.  "I'm not gonna write you up.  I'm gonna fuckin' bury you!" he said, tackling the blond to the ground.

As the two Enforcement Agents wrestled in the snow, stuffing cold, wet ice crystals into each other's shirts, they were blissfully unaware they were being monitored from above by outside forces.

Turning from his window, Alexander Waverly, U.N.C.L.E.'s Chief of Operations, couldn't help chuckle to himself.

"Boys will be boys!" he sighed, lighting his pipe before settling in to read through a stack of report files...

 

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