A Family Affair (MFU fic), part 3/4

Title: A Family Affair
Rating: PG
Chapter
summary: Napoleon’s parents reveal their past connections with the mission’s target as Napoleon and Illya attempt to figure out the next phase of their plan.

If you prefer reading on FFN, you can read it here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12950926/3/
If you prefer reading on AO3, you can read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14780255/chapters/34687973

                                            Act III: Family History

After a bit more trickery and subterfuge involving slipped
keys, Illya and the three Solos had successfully snuck to the room that he and
Napoleon had booked for themselves—under Illya’s favorite alias, Dr.
Mallard.  The four of them breathed a
sigh of relief upon successfully making it here unobserved.

“Well, we can relax—for a little while,” Napoleon
said.  “Once Rex realizes that he’s lost
you, he’ll start turning this place upside-down to try to find you.”  He paused.
“Was he always this obnoxious, Ma?”

“Yes,” she sighed.
“Ever since he found out I was a woman.”

Napoleon stared at his mother with an unreadable expression
as Leopold just sighed and shook his head.

“I think more explanation is required, Mother,” Illya said,
taking note of the look on his partner’s face.

“Yes, I suppose so,” Cora said.  “Napoleon, Illya… I don’t want you to think I
kept this from you on purpose.  It was so
long ago, and I never expected to see Rex ever again.  If we’d only known that he owned this place,
Leopold and I would not have come here; I had no desire to see him again.”

“It’s alright…” Napoleon said, though he still seemed
stunned by everything.  “But I’m still
confused as to how he had to figure out you were a woman…”

“Well, that’s easy—I was disguised as a man,” Cora
said.  “I did the underground gambling
circuit in disguise as ‘Corrin Stroller.’
It was difficult enough being taken seriously as someone as young as I
was; they would never have let a woman in there.”

“…So when Father said that you took him for a ride when you
first met…” Illya began.  “You did so as
a man?”

“Did I forget to mention that part?” Leopold asked.

Yes,” Napoleon
and Illya echoed.

“I only took him for a ride to stop him from being taken
for a ride by others who would not have been as nice about it as I was,” Cora
said.  “I had every intention of
returning the money to him, and I did…”
She shrugged.  “…Eventually…”

“To her credit, she did give the money back after a
while—and that was before I found out she was a woman,” Leopold said.

“I finally told him who I really was after I’d known him
for several months,” Cora said.  “He kept
my secret.  And, eventually, we started a
relationship—by day.  By night, we hit
the casinos together.  Leopold came
across as an easy mark; he’d rope people into a poker game, and I’d clean them
out.”

Napoleon blinked.

“Huh…” he mused.
“Now there’s an idea…”

“Don’t even think about it,” Illya deadpanned.

Napoleon shrugged and continued.

“And how does Rex fit into all of this?”

“Well, he owned a few underground casinos here in Las
Vegas; Leopold and I must have caught his attention from all of our winnings,”
Cora said.

“He must have seen me with Cora out in a restaurant or
something one day and saw me with ‘Corrin’ that following night,” Leopold
sighed.  “Whatever it was, he put two and
two together and realized she was a woman.”

“Getting kicked out of the casino circuit would have been a
preferable fate as opposed to what happened,” Cora sighed.

“What happened?” Napoleon asked.

“Rex kept trying to get me to marry him,” Cora
muttered.  “Didn’t matter where I went in
Las Vegas, even if it was a different casino that he didn’t own, he kept after
me, proposing like he had every right to demand it.  After turning him down for the umpteenth
time, he started threatening me—threatened to let everyone know I was a woman,
which would ensure that I would be kicked out of most casinos, if not all of
them—this was after gambling was legalized in Las Vegas, but they still
wouldn’t have been welcoming to a woman.
Even so, that didn’t bother me; I figured he would have too much trouble
trying to prove it, in any case.  And
after a few more months of this, he changed his tactics…”  Her expression went cold.  “He threatened Leopold.  I told you that most of the casino owners
were affiliated with the Mob; I assumed Rex was, too.  Now you’re telling me it’s THRUSH, who
probably weren’t much better…”

Napoleon muttered something under his breath.

“They are, indeed, much worse.  I told you, Mother,” Illya added, casting a
glance at Napoleon to make sure he was alright.
“The Mob didn’t even want anything to do with THRUSH.  If Rex had been threatening to use them, he
would have most certainly delivered on that threat.”

“I didn’t want to call his bluff,” Cora admitted.  “I couldn’t take a chance that they’d kill
Leopold.  I agreed to marry Rex.”  She shuddered, and Leopold placed a hand on
her shoulder, which she gently touched with her own hand.  “I don’t think you boys could ever understand
what it’s like to be held at gunpoint, facing the prospect of being eternally
bound to someone you don’t love…”

“…Actually, Ma, I can…” Napoleon said.  He made a face.  “…Twice…”

“…What.”

“I got him out of it,” Illya assured her.  “But, please, continue.  How did you manage to escape Rex?”

“Well, Rex insisted we get married that evening—had his
flunkies go with me everywhere to get a dress and then go to a wedding
chapel.  I didn’t even have a chance to
find Leopold, let alone talk to him.  So,
I dropped the Queen of Hearts from the deck I always carried with me.”

“Cora always told me that the Queen of Hearts represented
who she truly was,” Leopold said.  “The
hearts represented the love she had—love for life, love of adventure… and, of
course, her love for me.  And I also knew
that Cora cared about her cards—they were everything to her.  And when I saw the Queen of Hearts on the
floor, from her deck… I knew she was in trouble.”

“It was the biggest gamble of my life,” Cora said.  “I quite literally waged my very life on that
card.  But it paid off.”  She reached into her purse and pulled out the
old Queen of Hearts card.  “I kept it
with me all these years.  Leopold
followed my trail downtown and saw me with the wedding dress and followed me to
the chapel.  I was in the wedding dress,
Rex’s goons guarding the door outside the changing room…  And then I heard Leopold’s voice outside the
room, saying that he was a photographer’s assistant, and that Rex had hired a
photographer to take pictures of me in my wedding dress.  And in he comes with the photographer.”

“I had to bribe him with a considerable amount of cash, but
it was worth it,” Leopold said, kissing the back of Cora’s hand.

“Naturally, I explained what was going on,” Cora said.  “And Leopold offered to help me escape—not
just the wedding, but Las Vegas and Rex—no strings attached.  We had a storage locker at the train station
with things we would need for a quick getaway, in case we ever made any enemies
with our casino escapades.  The
Depression had hit the country and the money wasn’t going to go as far as it
would have, so Leopold offered me the entire thing if it meant I could escape
Rex and be happy.  And then I told him
that there was one more thing I’d need to take with me in order to be truly
happy—him.”

Napoleon and Illya both stared in interest.

“Ma, you mean you
proposed to Dad?”

“My philosophy in life was that if there was something I
wanted, I would attempt to pursue it,” Cora shrugged.  “This was no different.”

“Of course, I said, yes,” Leopold said.  “And, after bribing the photographer some
more, we convinced Rex’s goons that Rex wanted some photos of Cora in her dress
outside.  And we ran the first chance we
got—only to run into the priest who was supposed to have wedded Cora and Rex.”

“…And I had the idea to have the priest marry the two of us
right then and there,” Cora said.  “It
was a two-minute ceremony, with the photographer as the witness.  …And then he went and published the wedding
photo in the paper the next day, but we were already on the train to Chicago by
then.”

“We had another, more official ceremony performed there,”
Leopold said.  “We thought about staying
in Chicago after we’d been there a few months.”

“Yes, the gambling circuit there was interesting, and I
certainly would have loved to have played my way around it,” Cora mused.  “But two things derailed that plan; first of
all, we caught wind that Rex was coming to Chicago from Vegas.  Secondly, what I thought was nausea brought
about by the news of Rex’s arrival ended up being morning sickness.”  She stared pointedly at Napoleon, who went
slightly red.  “At that point, we had
done well for ourselves in spite of the Depression, and so, we decided it
wasn’t worth the risk of Rex finding us.
We slipped away to New York and decided to give up the gambling circuit
and prepare for our new addition.”

Napoleon looked away.

“You gave up doing something you loved because of me?”

“It wasn’t like that at all,” Leopold insisted.  “We had our thrills of youth, and we always
knew that we would have to eventually turn to something steady and
practical.  I’d always intended to get
into journalism; I was pleased to get the chance to do so.  And your mother has enjoyed raising corgis…”

“We could have easily gone back on the circuit after you
were born—Atlantic City wasn’t that far away,” Cora reminded him.  “But after all of those crazy adventures, it
was nice to relax and pursue other endeavors.
I was very happy with my life, and you were a great part of that happiness,
Napoleon—another heart for the Queen of Hearts.”

Napoleon managed a smile.

“I guess that makes me the King of Hearts now, huh?”

“Well…” Cora mused, taking a new, complete deck of cards
from her purse.  “Maybe I never went back
on the circuit, but I would say that my consort and I did not formally abdicate
yet…”

Napoleon gave his mother a long look.

“…I’m still the Jack, aren’t I?”

“Uh-huh.”

Leopold chuckled at them, but then noticed that Illya was
deep in thought.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing wrong,” Illya assured him.  “I am just marveling at all of the
happenstance that filled your lives over one playing card—it was by sheer
chance that you found the card she dropped and knew what she was trying to
convey, then being able to save Mother from marrying Rex, and then you two
having Napoleon—and then him getting drafted at 18 and meeting Mark Slate after
getting appendicitis in Korea, which would inspire him to join U.N.C.L.E. and
lead to my eventually getting transferred to New York to work with him…. All
four of us are together in this room now because of that card.”  He indicated the Queen of Hearts still in
Cora’s other hand.  “Perhaps together, we
can find a way out of this place and succeed in the mission Waverly assigned
Napoleon and me.”

“Well, I have
been thinking,” Cora said, her brown eyes deep in thought.  “If you need proof that Rex is working with
THRUSH…  I’m sure I could set up a
trap—pretend to agree to speak with him and get him to confess anything and
everything to me with a bit of feminine wiles–”

No!” all three
men said at once.

“…Well it was just a thought…”

“It’s far too risky, Ma,” Napoleon said.  “You tricked him once before by pretending to
go along with him and then slipping out from under his nose.  But maybe we can get evidence another way…”

“What are you thinking?” Illya asked.

“What Ma said about a trap has me thinking…. I’ll bet money
that Rex booby-trapped their suite the moment he found out that Ma was coming
here.  If I can sweep the room and find
any THRUSH devices in those traps, that will be the proof we need.  Illya, can you watch over Ma and Dad while
I’m up there?”

“Of course.  But take
care that you don’t end up tripping any of the traps yourself,” Illya warned.

“Naturally,” Napoleon said.

Knowing that his parents were as safe with Illya as they
would have been with him, Napoleon borrowed their key and headed to their
suite, beginning to look around.  To his
relief, there didn’t seem to be anything in the way of deadly traps—he hadn’t
put anything past Rex where his father was concerned.  But, after a thorough search, he uncovered
several small jets of sleeping gas.

Napoleon removed two of the jets, picketing the cartridges
of sleeping gas; if it matched the kind of gas that THRUSH was known to use,
then that would be the proof that THRUSH supplied Rex with these.  The remainder of the sweep uncovered a few
listening devices, but nothing much else.

Still, the sleeping gas was more than enough cause for
concern, but it was their first possible bit of condemning evidence.  Napoleon now moved to leave the room, but
paused as he heard footsteps from the corridor, rapidly approaching the room.

“You’re sure you saw someone go into Cora’s suite?” he
heard Rex ask.  “Did you see who it was?”

“No, Sir,” a guard was saying.  “We saw someone go in, but it all happened so
quickly; I assume it is either Ms. Stroller or her husband….”

Rex’s tone darkened at the mention of Leopold.

And Napoleon froze, wondering what to do.  Left with no other options, he ducked into
the washroom, hoping that he would be able to snag a chance to sneak out while
Rex was occupied in searching the room.

MFU blurb

Written for today’s short affair prompt at Section VII

Summary: In which a repressed memory from the Korean War returns to Napoleon in full force–and unleashes a rare anger in him as Illya tries to help.

Not cross-posting this as I’ll be expanding this in the future.

       Well, I was there and I saw what you did, I saw it with my own two eyes,
               So you can wipe off that grin, I know where you’ve been,
                                      It’s all been a pack of lies.
                                  — Phil Collins, “In the Air Tonight”

Napoleon was always grateful when Illya accompanied him—even
on errands that he didn’t even need to waste time on.  An old acquaintance had summoned Napoleon for
help, claiming that he and Napoleon had served in Korea together and was now
the head of a growing business.

“Derek Smith…” Napoleon said, repeating the name for the
umpteenth time, trying to recall the owner.
“I can’t, for the life of me, remember who he was.”

“Well, in your defense, that is an incredibly common name,”
Illya pointed out, as they headed into the luxurious office suite where he had
asked to meet them.  “Perhaps your mental
block will lift upon seeing him.”

“Maybe…” Napoleon mused.
He trailed off as a man approached them, looking at Napoleon with
recognition in his eyes.

“There you are, Solo!” he said, ignoring Illya completely.  “Wow, you look well after all this time!”

“Derek Smith…?” Napoleon asked.  Seeing him wasn’t ringing any bells, either,
much to his frustration.

“Yeah, that’s right—Korea, 1951.  You were just a young corporal then,” Smith
mused.  “Look, I’m sorry for how
unprofessionally I’m dressed; I just got off the golf course, but I really do
need to speak with you.  See, climbing up
the corporate ladder isn’t easy—you make a lot of enemies doing this, but they
tell me you’re a crackerjack agent for U.N.C.L.E. who has protected the lives
of many diplomats…”

Napoleon suddenly noticed something—a gold pendant with
Korean letters etched on it, resting around Smith’s neck.  And, suddenly, something in Napoleon’s memory
sparked; he recalled seeing that same pendant back in 1951, covered with
crimson blood—but it wasn’t Smith who had been wearing it…

It had been a
stormy night outside of Uijeongbu, and Napoleon had been heading back to camp
after going on patrol.  A Korean woman,
carrying a bundle that was unmistakably an infant, was approaching another
solider, calling for help.  She had been
wearing the pendant—but then, the soldier she had been approaching raised his
gun…

Napoleon
remembered now—how his horrified shout had been lost in a crack of thunder and
gunfire as the other soldier had shot the woman.  The baby had begun to cry even as his mother
fell, lifeless.  And the soldier, not even
flinching, had merely reached down and snapped the pendant off of the body,
pocketing it for himself as spoils of war, ignoring the crying infant.  And as the soldier turned to go, Napoleon had
seen his face in an instant, illuminated by a flash of lightning…

Napoleon snapped back to the present.

“How about it, Solo?” Smith asked.  “Will you take the job as my personal
bodyguard for this fancy party?”

Napoleon’s face turned down into a fierce scowl—something that
took Illya by complete surprise.

“Never,” he growled.

Smith was taken aback; he hadn’t expected Napoleon to
refuse.  Illya was more stunned by
Napoleon’s tone; anger was a very rare emotion for his partner, so Illya knew
that whatever it was that had sparked it now must have been serious.

“I…. I don’t get it,” Smith said.  “They told me you were the best.  Solo, I’ll be a sitting duck at this venue; I
need someone to protect me!”

“That woman who approached you back in Korea wanted
protection, too!”

Smith froze, stunned; all these long years, he had assumed
that he had been alone that night.

“What… what are you talking about?”

“Korea, 1951,” Napoleon hissed, pointing to the pendant
Smith was wearing.  “A woman, wearing
that pendant, was coming to you, asking for help in getting out of the storm
she had been traveling in.  You shot her at
point-blank range and stole that!  You did
a good job of washing the blood off of that pendant.  But you will never be able to fully wash the
blood off of your hands.”

“I…” Smith stammered.
“Look, that woman was holding something—it could have been a bomb or–”

“She was holding a baby!” Napoleon roared.  “She was holding a crying baby—I know because
I was there!  I saw you kill her and
leave that baby there to die after you looted the body!  I carried that baby to the orphanage myself!”

Illya cursed loudly in Ukrainian; having lost his parents
violently to war, as well, this had struck a nerve.

“I should have had you arrested that night itself, but I didn’t
know your name then.  Well… anyway, this
banquet is the least of your worries,” Napoleon went on.  “But I know just how I’ll solve your problem—you’re
under arrest for murder and war crimes.
Maybe your enemies will have a harder time trying to get to you in
prison.”

He ignored Smith’s protests and practically dragged him
back to U.N.C.L.E. HQ, but was slightly surprised when Mark Slate ended up
interrogating Smith, when he had been fully prepared to.

“I had asked Mark to handle the interrogation, Napoleon,”
Illya said.  “As you are the witness, it
would be less objective if you also did the interrogation.”

“Oh.  Good point…”

Illya hesitated.

“I… also thought it would be better if Mark handled the
interrogation after seeing how you reacted in Smith’s office,” he
admitted.  “Napoleon…  I know you are furious with Smith because of
what happened—you have every right to be.
And I fully support you testifying to make sure he is given the harshest
punishment the law can give for that heinous crime.”

“…But…?” Napoleon prompted.

“But,” Illya agreed.  “…Napoleon…
Please understand when I ask you to promise me that you will not lose
yourself—who you truly are—in your quest to ensure justice.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You mind suppressed this horrific sight for so long,”
Illya explained.  “Now that it is back in
your consciousness again, there’s every chance in the world that it can affect
your entire personality—it already has.  I
have rarely seen you angry, Napoleon—and though your anger is justified, I beg
you…. Don’t let this change who you are.
You are unique because you are kind and loving, and to lose that…”  Illya shook his head.  “If you changed your personality like that,
it would be like losing you.”

Napoleon exhaled, forcing himself to calm down; he managed
a soft look as he glanced back at Illya.

“You won’t lose me,” he promised.

Illya nodded, satisfied, but also hoping that Napoleon’s
words would be true.