Illya turned in the old-fashioned iron bed and moaned. His head ached, his body ached and his blurred vision looked up into the steadily beating of an old ceiling fan, which did little more than circulate the oppressive heat.

Struggling to sit he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck and found a small abrasion that throbbed and strobed with the pain. His fingers dug at the skin and found a small bump that he didn't remember having. Damn.

"Mr. Kuryakin!" A young female voice urged him gently along with cool hands, which pressed him back against the bed. "You must rest." She admonished as she checked the IV that captured his hand.

"Where?" Illya frowned over the roughness in his voice, the headache growing by degrees.

"Bangkok UNCLE infirmary. I'll let Mr. Solo know you are awake." She smiled, pretty almond eyes and coal black hair that swung from a long braid as she walked out of the room.

"Bangkok?" he asked as Napoleon arrived and ran his fingers along the side of Illya's bruised face.

"Bangkok."

"We were in Malaysia." Illya frowned again.

"Yes and they air lifted us here. You've been running a high fever that the doctors cannot understand. Gratefully you're back to normal." Napoleon smiled and sat carefully on the side of the bed, his hand making soothing motions along the battered frame.

"As normal as one can be as an UNCLE agent." Illya groused and Solo smiled, relief evident in his handsome features.

"So any idea's on what we were in?"

"The details are rather sketchy Napoleon but it appeared to be a THRUSH mining vehicle, the layout was very similar to the one we captured in Africa last year."

"With added extras." Napoleon commented.

"Yes the metal was of a different texture to what I could normally identify. It was warm and almost alive to the touch. And they spared no expense on the interrogation equipment."

"To that I can attest. They asked some odd questions as well."

"About the data pack?"

"No about my," Napoleon gestured his hand towards his groin.

"Tell me the voice wasn't female."

"Ah, actually it was."

"Connie by any chance?" Illya's sarcasm was overwhelmed as the pain stabbed into his brain and his hand rubbed at his neck again.

"No it was not Connie, she definitely knows what the equipment is for. You alright."

"Pain." Illya gasped and crumpled on the bed. Napoleon bolted for the door and called for the doctors. Taking his place in the corner of the room he ran his hand along his left shoulder that still ached and found a tiny lump, something imbedded in the skin that when he tried to scratch at it disappeared further into his body and caused the pain to intensify.

Curious he continued to rub and determined to see the local doctor at the same instance the room went silent, and then all hell broke loose.

Illya had stopped breathing.