'The Amnesty Is Granted Affair'
Anne 'Lisitza' Marsh
Part Five



Disclaimer:
This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.

Classification:
Slash

Author's Notes:
Waverly does some digging of his own, Napoleon and Illya continue in their quest, and the plot thickens... Lyrics from 'Amnesty is Granted' (I've been spreading what lyrics fit pretty thin, but if you could put them all together, they'd run pretty coherently. Ah, better yet, just go find the song and give it a listen. Like all MeatLoaf, it rocks). Not AU

Pairing:
IK/NS (sorry, I've run out of clever things here)


//You don't have to give Amnesty is granted//

Waverly called in the doctors who had assisted Leamas in removing his agents' memories.

Dr. Conrad had prepared and administered the injections. Dr. Cooper had conditioned the two agents. Both men now sat before Waverly, clearly uncomfortable.

"The drugs Mr.s Solo and Kuryakin were given?"

"Sedatives, first of all." Conrad answered shakily. "The memory drug was something Leamas had some of the R&D boys working on. I don't know much about it, I just did as I was told."

"In the future, Dr. Conrad, when you are told to administer a drug you know nothing about to one of our top enforcement teams, mutiny. Dr. Cooper?"

"I assisted Leamas in the conditioning process, ferreting out the memories and, uh, removing them."

"Can you assure me, Dr. Cooper, without a doubt, that the rest of their minds remain intact?"

He shook his head. "There's always room for doubt. As a scientist, there's no way I could offer you an absolute as truth."

"Explain this procedure to me as best you can, then. What memories did you remove?"

"Well..." He turned red. "Memories dealing with--"

"Yes, yes, I know, sexual nature." Waverly snapped. "Despite what the rest of the world seems to think, this is unimportant. Were there any case or training related memories interwoven? In your opinion, what is the chance that either Solo or Kuryakin has lost any work-related knowledge?"

"Not too high. My understanding of the memory drugs is that it was twofold. First, it accessed any memories, so that we wouldn't miss any. Then, as a truth serum, so that when questioned under hypnosis, they wouldn't leave any-- *any*-- incidents out. And then-- I don't know how-- there was something else he administered himself, when we were in the room. That one, I believe, worked in conjunction with the hypnotherapy, an amnesia drug, to erase the memory. I didn't do anything to memories not relating to their relationship."

"I see. And Leamas was correct in his assumption?"

"Yes, Sir. Solo and Kuryakin were definitely in a romantic relationship. I heard enough from both of them to believe it completely."

"And you believe that this memory wipe took? It worked?"

"Leamas was satisfied it had. I didn't see either one of them afterwards. Really, I don't care whether or not it worked." Cooper shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his cuff. "None of my business. At least, it wasn't until Leamas pulled me into the middle of it. I believe they should function perfectly as a team. In theory, anyway, Solo and Kuryakin will continue to think, feel, and behave exactly as they did before the procedure, except that they will have no memory of confessing their feelings to each other, or of the following romance."

"Thank you, that will be all, doctors." He stood. The door slid open, and Conrad and Cooper crept out.

Waverly sank back into his chair and flipped absently through the book he had been reading. He never should have left John Leamas in charge, that much was clear.

---/-/---

Holden Williams remembered the incident clearly. THRUSH had been hunting him, after his company, playing out some sick little cat-and-mouse game. Until then, he hadn't known that THRUSH even existed. He hadn't known UNCLE existed, either.

Now, today, the tables were turned. Lydana Charles, once in charge of a formidable branch of THRUSH's corporate espionage operations, was Williams' plaything.

It had been Charles, all those years ago, overlooking what she had thought was Williams' slow destruction. She had failed, thanks to the interference from UNCLE. And now, Williams would see to her slow destruction. He only needed one man's help.

John Leamas. Few people knew he had a glass eye. Lydana Charles had scratched its predecessor out. Now Leamas sat across a big teak desk from Williams, and both remembered, and neither spoke.

---/-/---

//What's done is done for everyone Come on, baby, let's start again right now//

Illya answered his communicator, setting aside the lab experiment he was working on.

"Kuryakin here."

"It's Napoleon. We're clean."

"You're sure?"

"I've gotten every bug in this office. In fact, the kid from security who was ordered to plant them attested to it."

"And you believe him."

"There's no way he's lying. If you were here, you'd believe it. Besides, I swept the place as thoroughly as you would have. We're clean."

He nodded, though he was aware that Napoleon could not see him. "All right. I will be over in a moment. We need to talk."

"Right. I-- well, you know. Solo out."

Illya sighed and capped his 'pen'. Once the various lab impliments and solutions were safely put away, he headed back to Napoleon's office.

As soon as he was inside, Napoleon opened a panel in the wall, shutting his door down.

"There. No one's getting in without asking first. Now... we need a plan. A real plan."

"I still think physical torture is an exceptional plan." Illya grumbled, pulling his chair up closer to Napoleon's.

"We could try a frame-up, but it's risky. If only we knew whether or not he had lied to Waverly..."

"Well, Mr. Waverly isn't letting on one way or the other, and most likely has an agenda of his own." He sighed. "This is unbearable. We need action! We need-- something..."

"We'll think of something." Napoleon reassured, placing his hand comfortingly on Illya's shoulder. A shock travelled up his arm to his brain, and he broke away, crumpling into his chair as a wave of despair washed over him.

"Napoleon, what's wrong?"

"This is all my fault..." He groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I-- it's all my fault, I--"

"Napoleon, what are you talking about?"

"What else? Illya, everything that's happened to us-- it's been my fault! Leamas did this to you because of me."

"Yes, and he did it to you because of me." Illya shrugged, kneeling before his partner's chair, a hand on Napoleon's thigh. "What's gotten into you?"

"You don't remember?"

"No. The last memory I recovered was a particularly interesting conversation you started, detailing the merits of whipped cream, but I do not remember anything you did to bring on this guilt."

"Don't try to cheer me up with whipped cream, Illya. It won't work."

"Are you absolutely certain?" He frowned. "I thought it might have."

"Absolutely. Illya, I-- I screwed up. That's how he found us."

"I would imagine, Napoleon, that we both 'screwed up'. It does take two, after all."

"No, you said it wasn't a good idea, too risky, and I didn't listen." He continued to avoid eye contact, instead choosing to scrutinize invisible patterns on the floor.

"What wasn't a good idea, 'pasha?"

Napoleon let out a bitter laugh. "It wasn't even that much. Barely this side of evidence. If I had stopped even a moment before I did, he wouldn't have anything to hang us on. I'm sorry, Illya."

"I'm sorry, too." Illya whispered, rising and patting Napoleon on the back consolingly. "No doubt I could have been a little sterner with you."

"No, don't try to shoulder any of the blame. It really was all me."

"It could not have been *all* you. Anyway, we have more important points to argue. We were planning?"

"Right... If we could set something up? There's got to be something, there just has to be..."

"All right, well... assuming that Leamas is *not* lying to Waverly, and that Waverly knows that we were lovers and assumes that we no longer are, then what?"

"We know he doesn't approve of Leamas' methods, but we *don't* know what methods he does approve of, which means that if he found out, he could split us up."

"Waverly is a pragmatic man." Illya deliberated, shaking his head once. "He wants us where we are, because we get the job done. However, he must follow certain guidelines. It is well accepted within the intelligence community that homosexuals are a security risk, because the enemy-- whomsoever this enemy may be-- would have added ammunition for compromise."

"Blackmail." Napoleon grimaced.

"However, we know that we cannot be compromised thusly." Illya said triumphantly.

"We can't?"

"Well, you do know how it works, don't you?" Illya sighed. "To compromise homosexual spies, an enemy agent acts as seducer, and proof is obtained for the purpose of--"

"Well, yes, but I don't see--"

"So we are monogamous. You cannot be seduced by THRUSH ravens. Therefore, no blackmail can be obtained."

"THRUSH whats?"

"Ravens. Male prostitutes, used for espionage."

"Right, right. Yeah, I've heard the term." Napoleon nodded. "Sounds wierd prefaced with THRUSH, though, doesn't it?"

Illya laughed silently. "I suppose it does."

"But they could still-- if they found out about us, they could still blackmail us."

Illya shook his head. "If Waverly knew that we were homosexual, who would they threaten to tell?"

"And if Waverly has a problem with it?"

Illya shrugged. "If Waverly has a problem with it, then we may just learn how he would deal with us. But that is by no means our sole solution. Merely one way of looking at our problems. Feel free to chip in with one of your own."

"Problem or solution?" Napoleon teased.

"Solution, please. We already have enough problems, and we're sharing them, besides."


This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.