Author: Kei

Warning / Disclaimer: See Part 1

Pairing: Napoleon / Illya

And, for a change, all of it in English.

"Mr. Kuryakin, you are dangerously close to insubordination!"For the first time since the two-way transmission had begun, Mr. Waverly's low sonorous voice raised a notch, a distinctly dangerous glimmer coming to the old man's eyes. Not even a command from Napoleon Solo could easily rein back an enraged Illya Kuryakin's  temper once it was finally released -a word from Alexander Waverly  had done just that as the young Russian took a deep breath,  swallowing another explosive verbal expression of  outrage...but...only for now...and perhaps, not for long.

Mark Slate had said that he wouldn't like it -"it" not being the  revelation of a cure for the madness that was gradually but certainly  sweeping this UNCLE base. The incidents were no longer easily dealt  with, no longer merely strange, no longer...funny. That the virus was  revealing an increasing tendency to press its victims towards  violence was bad enough...that a young technician had just been found  to have hung himself was somehow infinitely worse. No...the "it" that
Mark had said that he would not like was that he now knew that the  creators of the mutant virus were not THRUSH.

It was UNCLE.

"Forgive me...sir," the Russian said with no little insincerity, "but  perhaps I would understand better if you would explain to me how  UNCLE could possibly have played a part in this...debacle!"

For once, it was Number One Section One's turn to wear an expression  of shame at the knowledge of things kept hidden save from a very  few...things that should not have happened in the first place. "The  use of bio-weapons is not a new concept, Mr. Kuryakin -a sample of an  a virtually indestructible airborne `Mad Cow-like'  contagion `created' by the scientists of an eco-terrorist  organization was turned over to UNCLE's science division some time  ago in the hopes that we could find a cure where others had failed - surely you can see the danger of such a biological disease? A weapon  that could create mass cerebral collapse?"

"And you failed..?"

"No, Mr. Kuryakin -not exactly." The old man paced slowly. "We *did*  find a cure of sorts..." Waverly snorted in self-
disgust. "...a `cure' which then mutated the original virus into one  that did not destroy the brain and its neural network, but altered  the *chemistry* of the brain."

"Inducing a new madness." Illya allowed himself a bone-weary sigh,  chancing a glance at his supine partner, draped on a near-by couch,  having been forcibly put into a chemically-induced slumber when  blissful confusion had quickly deteriorated into an uncontrollable  emotional swing between giddiness and crippling depression. "How did
THRUSH acquire the contagion?"

"Even UNCLE is not immune to infiltration by THRUSH, Mr. Kuryakin- approximately five years ago, one of the last samples of the mutant  virus was `liberated' from our labs in Colorado, probably for the  purpose of taming it and eventually using it as a threat or a weapon.  We...have been tracking it ever since."

"Then you *knew* what they had in THRUSH Toronto's lab." The Russian  agent's question came out more like a statement -almost an accusation.

"We...*suspected*."

Illya massaged the bridge of his nose, the ache in his head becoming  a steady, nauseating throb. It was the nature of the game that he and  Napoleon had willingly pledged themselves that truths -full truths-  were dispensed rarely, if at all, even to those who assumed that they  were in the know. Somehow, that reality had never hit quite so  closely to home. He had seen madness and confusion these past few  days and now, despite what he had said to Napoleon, he felt himself  compelled to wonder if *anything* of what he had seen in his  partner's eyes or heard from his lips was any more than deluded
ramblings ...and surprised himself by realizing that if that were the  case, he could not possibly be more disappointed. "So..." he said  finally. "Mr. Slate said that you indicated the `possibility' of a  cure."

"Again...it *could* be a cure."

Kuryakin nodded, understanding immediately. "Or, again, worse than  the disease, nyet?"

Waverly returned the gesture grimly. "Yes."