“You’re sure this is the right address? This place looks like it right out of a horror film on Halloween night. Maybe it’s someone idea of a joke.”
A flickering effect made the house hard to see but the longer they watched it the more in focus it became.
“I am not the one who gets us lost. This is the address we were given. Now come on, stop procrastinating. Waverly said that we only have tonight to get the information we were sent for retrieve.” Illya annoyance evident.
The door was falling apart with its paint peeling and wood warped. A small opening showed the door wasn’t locked. Although nothing seemed to be threatening as they walked up the stairs, both felt as if someone was watching them. .
Napoleon pulled his gun and used the tip to push the door open the rest of the way. As the agents stepped inside it, they found a living room that seemed forgotten in time. Broken down furniture, peeling wallpaper, moth-eaten rug and the smell of moss greeted them.
Suddenly a bright light flashed sending both of them diving for cover behind a ratty old couch hitting their heads on the floor hard enough to become unconscious.
When they came back to consciousness, they found themselves still behind a couch. Slowly Illya raised his head searching for any threats.
The cry of Что? (what?) brought Napoleon up quickly.
Instead of the broken down appearance, the room looked as if it was freshly redecorated in an early 1950’s theme. A fire was flickering in the fireplace, and the smell of rose surrounded them.
“Где мы находимся? Это не то, где мы были. (Where are we? This isn't where we were),” Illya looked for answers from his partner.
Napoleon knew that Illya only spoke Russian when he was injured or confused, yet he had no answers for the man. “I don’t know. Maybe we were captured and drugged?”
“And both of us are having the same hallucination?” The look the Russian sent him let him know that the suggestion wasn’t possible.
“Thrush has drugs for almost everything, why not?” Napoleon wasn’t ready to give up his suggestion yet. “I see a fireplace, new furniture, beautiful wallpaper and a few rugs scattered around. What do you see?”
The look on Illya face gave him the answer, he saw the same thing.
As they attempted to figure out what had just happened, a shimmering man appeared before them that matched the picture Waverly had given them. He was dress in clothing that belonged to the era of the living room now before them. Sitting near the fire, the agents could see through the chair and stood watching their contact writing something.”
Unexpectedly another iridescent man appeared. The first man stood to face him. No voices could be heard, but it was obvious that the men were arguing. A little pushing and shoving started.
“Do we interfere?” Napoleon wondered out loud.
“That is the man Waverly said would have the code to the Swiss box. I think we should.”
Before they were able to approach their contact, the second man fired a gun at the first a moment before a second shot was heard. Both men fell to the floor, the second man dissolving into the night.
Napoleon started to move toward the first man but was stopped by Illya’s hand. “Wait a minute.”
As they watched although beginning to disappear the man crawled toward the fireplace. He touched a stone on the bottom of it opening a space in the bricks. With his last ounce of energy, he placed the note he had written into the hole, pushing it closed before fading away himself.
A blinding flash of light once more lit the room causing the agents to be blinded for a second. When they could see again, the first room had reappeared.
“The fireplace?” The Russian suggested not answering the obvious question he was being asked.
Carefully they approached the area they had seen the man hide the note. Once there Illya touched the same brick and the hiding place appeared once more. Napoleon removed the paper which had the information they had been sent to collect.
Without discussion, the men hurried out of the house. As they went down the stairs, the door slammed behind them. Looking back the house began to vanish.
When only an empty lot stood where they had just been, Napoleon looked at his partner once more.
“Illya if it wasn’t for this piece of paper, I would doubt that we saw what just happened. What was that? How did Waverly know?”
“I believe my friend it is better not to ask. This is another time our report will end up in Mr. Waverly private file.”
As they drove away, a shimmering figure stood in front of the free-standing door smiling.