The Death of a Scientist Affair

by Miss T Rey

Dr. Leonard Samuels, an eminent micro-physicist, walked out of a Chinese restaurant onto a street in one of the quieter areas of New York city. Along with him was Erika Quarters, a colonel with Interpol, who was assigned to protect him.

He paused to light his pipe while Col. Quarters waited, impatiently, looking cautiously around. Suddenly a shot rang out. Dr. Samuels fell to the ground. Col. Quarters bent down over him. She saw a scarlet dot on the center of his forehead and his eyes were staring upwards, lifelessly. She got up to look around when a reflection from the roof of the building across the street caught her eye. She pulled out her gun and ran to the building. People started to gather around the dead doctor as she left.

When she appeared on the roof, she was not surprised to find no one around. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw the assassin jumping to the roof of the building next door. She ran after him, nearly missing the jump, and soon appeared on the street below. She continued to follow the person, but was soon stopped by two gentlemen in suits. One was of average height, dark brown hair and brown eyes. The other was slightly shorter with a mess of straw blonde hair and icy blue eyes.

"In a hurry to get somewhere miss?" the taller one asked.

"Let me go! He's going to get away!" Col. Quarter responded as she saw the assassin get in a car and drive off. She sighed, discouraged.

"Let who get away miss? Tell me do you have a license for this?" he asked as he took the .45 automatic from her hand along with her purse.

"In my wallet," she answered very annoyed.

"Illya," the man said as he handed the purse to his friend. The second gentleman opened the purse, took the wallet out and looked in it.

"Napoleon, I think we're in trouble," Illya said then handed the wallet to Napoleon. "Look."

Napoleon looked at the wallet as an expression of embarrassment came over his face.

"Col. Erika Quarters, Interpol," Illya said.

"I suggest you two gentlemen take me to your superior, now."

Illya and Napoleon looked at each other, very embarrassed.

*****

Col. Quarters had just finished discussing matters with Mr. Alexander Waverly, head of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement (also known as U.N.C.L.E.) when Napoleon and Illya walked in.

Mr. Waverly lit one of his pipes while Napoleon and Illya quietly seated themselves in their seats around the vast round rotating table. He puffed on his pipe for a few seconds before he spoke.

"I'm sure the three of you have already me, but allow me, anyway. Colonel, this is Napoleon Solo, my chief law enforcement officer, and his partner Illya Kuryakin. Gentlemen, this is Col. Erika Quarters of Interpol. Dr. Samuels was in her protective custody when he was assassinated."

"Not a very professional job of protection I would say," Illya said, looking at the Colonel somewhat coldly.

"I know my job, Mr. Kuryakin. You don't reach the position of colonel at age thirty-two without a highly successful record," she responded icily.

"As I was saying," Mr. Waverly continued, "Interpol uncovered a plot of international importance."

"Oh? And what is this plot?" Napoleon asked.

"An unknown organization has been using the talents of eminent research scientists. When they are through with them, the scientists inevitably die, by what appeared to be natural causes; until Col. Quarters figured that they all couldn't be coincidental. She did some research into the matter and came up with a name. Leslie Groves."

"I ran the name through our computer and came up empty handed. The person does not exist. It was at that time that I read that Dr. Samuels had just finished a project. I brought him in and question him. He had just finished some research for Leslie Groves, but he had no idea what Groves was going to do with it."

"Did Dr. Samuels have any idea to what his research could be used for?" Napoleon asked.

"He couldn't be specific. He only said that it could be used from anything between a highly technical computer to a space satellite to a nuclear bomb of some kind."

"That's real definite, isn't it?" Illya said sarcastically. There was something about this woman that he didn't like, yet he couldn't put his finger on it. She was unlike the women agents he knew within U.N.C.L.E. For all of their talents and professionalism, they were still warm and friendly. This woman was not. She seemed hard and unmoving. Some might call that dedicated. Illya just saw her has being overtly stubborn. She reminded him of somebody he used to know, but he couldn't remember who.

"What does all this have to do with us?" Napoleon asked.

"You and Mr. Kuryakin have been asked to aid Col. Quarters in her task of unearthing the project and the individuals involved."

"Swell," Illya commented with a cold glance in the Colonel's direction. She returned his with an equally cold glare. She was a dour, somber agent, trying to show as little emotion as possible but failing fifty percent of the time (but she was getting better). Considering her position and age, she could be nothing but. What she didn't know however, was that Illya Kuryakin had the same dour, somber disposition; it was in his Russian blood. This was the source of the animosity that had grown within the few short hours they had known each other. That and the fact that he didn't like other agents ordering and making demands of their colleagues, regardless of what their position was.

Except for Mr. Waverly, his superior.

Mr. Waverly was a kindly older gentleman of about fifty-five to sixty, with a wrinkled face, gray hair and a furrowed brow, showing his years of wisdom and experience as an agent. He rarely became angry, but when he did, he never raised his voice at his agents, for that would accomplish nothing except increasing the temper of those around him; and he did his best thinking over one of his pipes with his favorite tobacco. The other agents and employees know about his "ritual" and would occasionally joke about it, but would never dream of interrupting him during his smoke. Only when he removed it from his mouth would they begin to speak.

After explaining to his agents what their assignment was, he picked up his pipe, thought while he puffed, then dismissed his agents and Col. Quarters to work out the finer details of the assignment.

*****

The three of them were seated in Napoleon's office, Napoleon behind his desk, Illya on the edge of the desk and Col. Quarters in the chair in front of the desk, discussing the assignment.

"Do you have any leads on this assignment?" Napoleon asked somewhat diplomatically. He had noticed the tension forming between his partner and Col. Quarters and he didn't want to add any more fuel to the fire; the alliance between U.N.C.L.E. and Interpol must remain open and intact.

"At the present, no. It seems like our only lead may have died with Dr. Samuels," she responded somberly.

"Do you have any suggestions, then, on where we should start?" Napoleon asked.

"Lake Tahoe. Dr. Samuels had a house and small laboratory there, and that is where he did most of his research. It is possible we might fine a lead there. Perhaps he left his notes or something pertinent behind."

"Wouldn't you have already gone over the place after bringing him in for protective custody?" Illya asked.

"I had had that in mind, but my superior officer denied my request. He explained that Leslie Groves would be having the place watched trying to locate Dr. Samuels and he didn't want to tip our hand. He also explained that it was possible that they had cleared his place out already to destroy any and all evidence left, so we'd just be wasting time."

"Well if there is that possibility, then why bother? Surely you must have something else to go on?" Illya responded, almost mocking her efficiency.

"Oh I do Mr. Kuryakin. In conversation with Dr. Samuels, before he was killed, he mentioned that he kept all his important papers and notes in a secret safe. Also in the safe was the address of where he had sent his research work and the name and address of his lab assistant. The address hadn't been retrieved earlier because he had said he had thrown it away. Later he admitted that he lied about that fact; and he hadn't mentioned his lab assistant before either because he didn't want him dragged into this mess; he was a very uncooperative person. When I had mentioned this to my superior he said it could all wait."

She paused and as Illya was about to speak, she interrupted him.

"And if you are going to ridicule anyone's efficiency it should be my superior's not my own. I did everything possible to override his orders, but to no avail."

"You could have gone against his orders," Illya said sardonically.

"If I had, I would have lost my job and the assignment dropped; Interpol does not put up with insubordination. Next question please," she said very annoyed. She was not used to having her efficiency questioned.

"Illya, why don't you go make the necessary arrangements for us to go to Lake Tahoe to start our investigation," Napoleon suggested.

"With pleasure," he said sarcastically. Where in Tahoe did the Doctor live?" he asked the Colonel in the same tone.

"South Lake Tahoe, California," she responded emotionlessly.

After receiving the Colonel's answer he got up and left. After he had gone, Napoleon tried to strike up a conversation to pass the time.

"Quarters, that is an unusual name," he commented, flashing her one of his usual charming smiles; one that usually would put any woman at ease. "What nationality is it?"

"It's not," she responded flatly. "When I became an agent I changed my name to help protect my family."

"I see," Napoleon said. He had not expected such a flat out answer. But then he had never experienced any female, colonel, Interpol agents, so he did not know what to expect. It was obvious that she would not melt under his usual charm, he thought, but he was not willing to give up. He found the Colonel to be a very attractive woman with a nice figure, shoulder length auburn hair, green eyes, and seemingly very intelligent; a combination he relished.

It was apparent, however, that at the moment she was not going to very communicative.

-Too much like Illya, he observed. He would try later.

*****

Upon arriving in Lake Tahoe, the three of them check into their hotel, and were surprised to find out they were all place in one room with two double beds. The hotel had overbooked a convention and was now trying to find space for everybody. It wasn't being in one room, however, that bothered them as much as the sleeping arrangements did. Col. Quarters, however, was determined not to let that slow her down.

"Well you two," she said dropping her luggage in a corner, "can sit around here if you want to figure out sleeping arrangements. I personally don't care if I share a bed or sleep on the floor, but as for now, I am going out to Dr. Samuels place and get busy."

She grabbed her shoulder bag from among her belongings and left with the men from U.N.C.L.E. staring after her. However by the time the elevator doors opened, Napoleon and Illya had joined her.

The three climbed into their rented car and drove out to Dr. Samuels' place that was some miles south of the center of town. In fact, when they reached his home they saw that there were very few other houses around. The perfect spot for anything to happen.

They walked up to the font door and tried the knob, not surprised to find it locked. Col. Quarters rummaged around in her shoulder bag and dug out a lipstick tube.

"Now is not the time to be putting on lipstick," Illya commented sarcastically.

"This is not lipstick, Mr. Kuryakin. You of all people should know that devices can be disguised in almost any fashion," she said coldly.

She opened the tube and selected a lock pick, then picked the lock. After some tinkering she pulled it back out.

"Would you like some help?" Illya asked her.

She opened the door without saying a word and walked in.

"So where is this safe?" Napoleon asked.

"This way Mr. Solo...."

"Napoleon, please," he said interrupting her.

"Mr. Solo." she emphasized. "In his lab." She turned and led the way.

Napoleon turned to his Russian partner, who was trying to hide a smile, then followed with Illya bringing up the end.

Upon entering the lab, Col. Quarters turned on the light switch and the three of them looked around. There wasn't much to the room. There was a large table in the center of the room with shelves on both walls, on either side of the table, two windows opposite the with a desk and computer between the windows, and a chalkboard/bulletin board to the left of the door.

"Where is there to hide a safe here?" Napoleon asked.

"I'll show you." She walked over to the desk and Napoleon followed, but Illya held back some and rummaged around the papers lying around and in the garbage cans. Col. Quarters pushed a button under the edge of the desk then turned to face the table. Down under the edge, on the side, a panel slid back and exposed the door of a safe.

"Did the Doctor give you the combination too?"

"He sure did," she responded matter-of-factly. Within a few seconds she had the safe open and both of them were going through its contents.

"Well Colonel, it looks like we hit the jackpot. Here we have all his notes and the two addresses we need. All we have to--"

I hate to interrupt your powwow over there," Illya said, "but I think I found something that requires your immediate attention."

Napoleon and Col. Quarters walked over to the garbage can that Illya was standing over and peered into it. Inside was a bomb with under four minutes left.

"What are we going to do?" Napoleon asked.

"Disarm it of course," Col. Quarters responded as if there was any question as to what to do.

"Disarm it?" Illya asked surprised.

"Yes, disarm it. We've just begun to search this place, and these notes only touch the surface of his project. What's left is stored on computer disks. We still have a lot of work ahead of us, and if you're not going to disarm it, I will."

She piled her stack of papers onto the pile that Napoleon was holding, then carefully lifted the bomb out of the garbage can and set it on the lab table. It was a fairly simple bomb; a timer attached to several sticks of dynamite. It was just a matter of disconnecting the right wires in the right order. She took a pair of scissors out of her shoulder bag and started to trace the terminals. She slowly began cutting wires until there were two wires left. Then her mind went blank.

"What's wrong?" Napoleon asked.

"I can't remember which wire to cut."

"Try the blue one," Illya said calmly.

"Are you sure?"

"Not really, but you need to try something. There's not much time left."

He nodded to the time and the Colonel looked at it; twelve seconds left.

She looked at the wires.

Eight seconds left.

She moved to cut the blue wire.

Five seconds. Four. Three....

She looked at the blue and cut the red.

The timer stopped, and there was a dead silence, that was broken by an exhale of breath. Col. Quarters looked fairly pale, but remained relaxed.

"Good job Erika," Napoleon said.

"Col. Quarters," she corrected him, as the color returned to her.

Napoleon straightened himself.

"Yes ma'am," he said quietly.

Illya smirked and Napoleon looked at him dryly.

"Did you mention something about floppy disks?" Illya asked.

"Yes Mr. Kuryakin, I did."

"Where are they?"

"They're over here in the safe."

The two of them went over to the safe and took the disks out. Illya seated himself at the Doctor's desk and set to work. Col. Quarters pulled up an extra chair and watched him work. Napoleon, whose dignity was getting more bruised by the second, set the stack of papers down and continued to rummage around.

After a couple of hours, they emerged from the Doctor's house with their findings: the Doctor's notes, the lab assistant's name and address and the post office box of Leslie Groves. With all that in hand, they left for U.N.C.L.E.'s local office.

*****

After dumping the notes off in the U.N.C.L.E. office to fax to the U.N.C.L.E. Portland Laboratory and getting a discouraging reply from records explaining they don't have post office box addresses, they got directions to Dr. Samuels' lab assistant's, Mr. Keith Andrews, house.

When they arrived, they found it to be in a more residential area, unlike the Doctor's. They walked up to the door and noticed that it seemed dark and vacant. They rang the bell anyway.

After waiting several seconds, there was not answer.

"I'll go around back to see if there's a door that can be picked without attracting too much attention," Illya said leaving Col. Quarters and Napoleon alone.

So they wouldn't appear too conspicuous, Napoleon rang the bell again. At that moment one of Mr. Andrews' neighbors appeared. The man was an older gentleman, of about fifty-five, thin gray hair and a lined face.

"Can I help you folks?" he asked.

Napoleon quickly put his arm around Col. Quarters and tried to appear like a "happy couple". Col. Quarters was appalled, but followed his lead.

"Yes, could you tell us where Keith is?" Napoleon asked.

"You friends of Mr. Andrews or something?"

"Of course we are. I'm Neil Sheppard and this is my wife Ellen. They three of us went to school together. We just flew in from Portland, Oregon and we thought we'd drop in and surprise our ol' buddy Keith."

"Well I'm sorry but Mr. Andrews is out on his boat."

"Oh?" Col. Quarters queried. it was they first time she had had a chance to speak.

"Yes. He went out a couple of days ago on his sailboat. Hasn't been back since. Funny thing too."

"What's that?" she asked.

"He left early in the morning, before sun up and asked no one to watch over his place and stuff."

"Really?" Napoleon said. "Well thank you Mr. -uh-Mr.-"

"Berman."

"Thank you Mr. Berman, you've been most helpful. Well, we better be on our way, huh darlin'?"

Col. Quarters smiled meekly.

"Sorry you missed him. Try back in a couple of days, if you're still around. Maybe he will have returned by then."

"Will do and thanks again."

The two of them walked down to the car and Mr. Berman disappeared into his house. Once he was gone, Col. Quarters turned and slapped Napoleon across the face. Illya had just come from the back of the house in time to see it. He suppressed a laugh and continued to the car.

"What was that for?" Napoleon asked puzzled.

"How dare you!" was all she said.

"What? All I did was put my arm around you."

"I knew what you were they minute I laid eyes on you. If you think I'm going to become another notch in your belt, then you better thing again!" she said forcefully then got into the back seat of the car.

"What'd I do?" Napoleon asked Illya, still puzzled.

"Face it Napoleon, this one's not going to fall for your usual playboy charm and sophistication. She's far to intelligent," he told Napoleon; there was a tone of admiration in his voice. Illya was beginning to see, that for all of her hard exterior, Col. Quarters also had a very passionate side as well, that she apparently prefers to hide, but escapes her once in a while. She might not be so bad after all, he thought, then he quietly climbed into the passenger seat, leaving Napoleon outside to figure things out.

A couple of seconds later, his ego totally deflated, he too climbed into the car and they drove off in utter silence.

But they weren't they only ones to drive off. A couple hundred feet from where they had been parked, there was another car that pulled away from the curb and followed. After going about a mile or so, Napoleon noticed that they were being followed.

"Don't look now gang, but I think we're being followed," he said while adjusting his rearview mirror.

Illya was professional enough to know he shouldn't turn around. As for Col. Quarters, she dug around in her back and took out a compact mirror. She opened it up and situated it so she could see the car behind them. While doing so, she pretended to powder he nose.

"Can you see anything?" Napoleon asked.

"'Fraid not. He's not close enough."

"Why don't you give it a little gas and see what he does," Illya suggested.

"Good idea."

Napoleon slowly eased his foot down on the gas pedal and the car increased speed. The car behind them followed suit, then suddenly sped up tremendously and rammed them in the rear. The three of them jerked forward and almost suffered whiplash. Illya turned around to face Col. Quarters. She was ashen but remained calm.

"Are you all right, Colonel?" he asked her with what sounded like concern to Col. Quarters, which surprised her given that he has been treating her coldly almost since they met.

"I'm fine. What are we going to do?"

Illya turned back to Napoleon. "Napoleon?"

"I'm going to see if I can somehow loose him. Which is going to be difficult until we reach the center of town."

He gave the car gas and sped off leaving their pursuer behind; but not for long, for he quickly eliminated the distance Napoleon had put between them and hit them from the rear again. Napoleon managed to keep control of the wheel and scanned the area for a road to turn onto.

-The trouble with flat open areas, he mused when he realized he wasn't going to find one.

Soon he approached the main street.

"Hang on everybody," he said.

"What are you going to do?" the Colonel asked.

"Make a left turn from the right lane," he replied.

As he arrived at the intersection, he made a sharp left. Tires screeched and cars came to a halt as Napoleon made his illegal turn. But unfortunately it did not slow their pursuer. He made the same turn through the traffic mess Napoleon had created and then weaved around cars to catch up.

Napoleon saw the pursuer coming and after several blocks made a right turn toward the lake. At the end of the road was a parking lot.

"What are we going to do?" Col. Quarters asked puzzled.

"We are going to catch that boat," Napoleon said pointing to a paddle boat, the Tahoe Queen, that was getting ready to leave.

They paid the parking lot attendant as they pulled in and quickly found a place to park. Illya got out of the car, opened the Colonel's door, took her hand and helped her out, shutting both doors as they ran to the dock, following behind Napoleon. As they neared the boat, a young photographer insisted on taking their picture for souvenirs at the end of the cruise. They wanted to skip it, but the photographer would not let them pass unless they did; company policy, he said. Resigningly they complied. When he finished taking the picture, they ran to the boat and jumped on to the rising gangway.

Col. Quarters continued up onto the second deck while Napoleon and Illya explained to the young purser why they didn't have tickets. They, and a fifty dollar bill, managed to persuade the young man to let them pay for the passage there.

They climbed up to the deck where Col. Quarters had disappeared, and before going inside they turned around and watched their pursuer watch them sail off. They whirled around and walked inside scanning the crowd looking for the Colonel. They spotted her at a table by the window staring outside at the lake.

"Penny for your thoughts," Napoleon said quietly, not sure if he should be invading her thoughts.

She turned and looked at him. He thought she was going to reprimand him.

"I'm sorry Mr. Solo, did you say something?" she asked.

"I said, would you like a drink?"

She thought a moment and then responded.

"Yes, I would, a screwdriver, please."

"Illya?"

"A vodka."

Napoleon walked over to the bar and Illya sat down with Col. Quarters.

"Is everything all right Colonel?"

She looked at him suddenly as if he had insulted her.

"Of course everything is all right! What ever gave you the idea something was wrong?"

"You were very quiet and you seemed a little pale," he explained calmly.

"The car ride just shook me up a bit, that's all. I can get car sick pretty easily sometimes," she explained.

She looked into his eyes.

-He has beautiful blue eyes, she thought, then caught herself as Napoleon returned with the drinks.

"If you'll excuse me a moment, I think I better go give Mr. Waverly an update of our progress." He took his drink and left Col. Quarters and Illya alone.

"Report!" She exclaimed suddenly. "I have some work I should be doing!"

She dug her small notebook and pen out of her bag along with her walkman and a tape. Illya picked up the tape and looked at it.

"You like jazz?" he asked, surprised.

"Oh, I love it! I mean I love other music too, like classical, but for some reason I have a passion for piano music and jazz."

She looked at him and then realized she was going into her personal life with him; something she never did with colleagues. Being a field agent meant you stayed strictly on a working relationship, nothing more, with your colleagues.

"But I don't see--"

"I love jazz too," he said interrupting her. He was beginning to realize who she reminded him of. Himself. When he was new to the country and to U.N.C.L.E.; when he used to think that he didn't need anybody, and getting too close to anyone could be a professional liability. But that was before his long partnership with Napoleon taught him otherwise. This woman has apparently only worked alone, and hadn't learned that lesson yet.

"What was that?" she asked.

"I love jazz too," he repeated. "Although only Napoleon knows it, and now you. It's a secret passion of mine."

"I see. You wouldn't happen to play the piano too, would you?" she asked quietly.

"Yes I do, and I enjoy it very much."

So did Col. Quarters.

"And various other instruments too, although the piano is the one I enjoy the most."

She looked into his eyes and studied him. Those eyes were looking back into hers, intently, as if they meant to penetrate into her soul. Then she bolted up from the table and ran outside. He was too much like her, she thought on her way out. Everything she was, he was the same.

Illya calmly got up from the table and followed her. She was standing by the rail looking out over the water. Illya put his hand on her shoulder. She turned around and looked at him. She looked like she was about to cry as her eyes flooded with tears. The Russian agent cupped her face in his hands, looked at her, then kissed her.

She felt herself caught up in the kiss, as if she were melting under his touch. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity, but then she realized what she was doing and tore away from him and ran inside almost bumping into Napoleon.

"Erika, wait!" Illya called after her.

Napoleon watched her go by and then walked out to Illya.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing," Illya responded curtly and walked passed him following the Colonel.

Illya had not only realized that he and the Colonel were alike, but after he kissed her he also realized that she has never allowed herself to get close to a man.

He found her at the back of the boat staring at the paddle wheel. He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around.

"Erika...Colonel...we need to talk."

"Shhh!" she said as she was listening to the captain's voice over the speaker. Illya moved to say something, but Col. Quarters held up her hand in protest and he remained quiet.

The captain of the boat was mentioning a few trivia facts about the lake, such as its depth and that it is about ninety-nine percent pure. These two factors combined make the lake a great preserving agent for such things as a dead body.

Then a look of realization came over her face.

"What is it?" Illya asked her.

"I just thought of something. Tell me, would it be possible to get a helicopter with a pilot and a speed boat of some kind from your local office here?"

"Sure, but I don't see why we need a pilot when I can fly myself."

"Because the three of us need to be in the boat," she said, then added, "We'll also need underwater gear."

"I'll see that arrangements are made, but first we need to talk."

"Later. I have some work to get back to," she said; she was now back to her normal cool self and went back to her seat and notebook.

Illya felt exasperated. Not knowing wheat else to do at the moment, he called the local office to have the stuff that the Colonel requested ready for early the next morning. By the time they docked there wouldn't be much time left to go out on the lake, so they would have to do it the next day. He also asked the person he was talking to, to look up the name of Mr. Andrews' boat.

It was early evening when the boat docked and the three of them concluded they were all hungry and decided to go have some dinner. On the way to the car, Col. Quarters and Napoleon had to wait for Illya, as the Russian had wandered off somewhere. What they didn't know was that he had bought the pictures of the three of them that had been taken when they boarded.

When the time was right, he would talk to the Colonel, Illya concluded.

*****

It was early the next morning when the three of them were getting ready to go out onto the lake and look for Mr. Andrews' boat. The helicopter was already out scanning the area and would notify them as soon as he spotted anything unusual.

Illya had not been able to talk to the Colonel at all the night before as she had gone off to do some paperwork somewhere and he had not seen her until morning when he woke up and saw her coming out of the bathroom in her one piece swimsuit. She was very dedicated to her job which was probably why she had never allowed herself to get emotionally involved with a man before, he decided. He had also noticed what a nice figure she had when he saw her that morning and was now noticing it again while she got into her wet suit.

She turned and looked at him. When she did, he looked away and started to get into his wet suit.

A walking enigma, she observed, who was very attractive, yet there was a passionate man, hiding behind those crystal blue eyes of his. Then recalling the previous day's events she concluded that she would have to watch herself; someone like Illya Kuryakin could be distracting and lead to her downfall.

Napoleon had noticed the glances between he friend and Col. Quarters and finally figured out what was going on. Before he could say anything to either of them, however, Illya and Napoleon's communicator sounded. Napoleon took his pen out, flipped the point over to reveal the speaker and pulled out the antenna (the plunger).

"Solo here," he responded.

The voice on the other end was the helicopter pilot's, reporting that he had spotted Mr. Andrews' boat, the Bermuda, floating around in the middle of the lake. He gave Napoleon the approximate location, then signed off. Illya and the Colonel go onto the boat with Napoleon and then sped off to find the Bermuda.

It was nearly an hour later before they found the Bermuda. During that time, while Napoleon was driving, Col. Quarters and Illya double checked their underwater gear. When they finished, Col. Quarters went and stood next to Napoleon and observed the view. After a while he handed the wheel over to her while he went to talk to Illya. After several minutes they gave up, concluding it was impossible to carry on a decent conversation over the roar of the engine.

When they located the Bermuda, Napoleon told the Colonel to pull up next to the boat and he would climb aboard to search it.

"It's empty," he concluded.

"Well then the Colonel and I will dive down to see what we can find," Illya told him.

They each helped the other get their tanks on and then jumped into the lake. It was quite a swim to the bottom, nearly a quarter of a mile. It had been quite a while since Col. Quarters had done any swimming of any kind and it as a little exhausting for her. Illya suggested she should go back to the surface, but she was obstinate. If they had been at the surface she probably would have reprimanded him for suggesting such a thing. She didn't want any special treatment, just because she was a woman; she was an agent first, a woman second.

When they reached the bottom they switched on their lights and scanned the area. Some hundred yards from where they had dove down they found a body chained to a cement block. Illya took out some material that resembled magnesium sulfide, attached it to the chain and ignited it. There was a white glow as the chain burned clear through. They untangled the body from the chain and together brought it to the surface.

When they arrived at the boat, Napoleon was ready to get it on board. Once they had the body in the boat, they looked it over and noticed that there was a bullet hole through the heart. Keith Andrews had been murdered, they concluded.

They went through the horrible task of putting him in a body bag, then Napoleon called U.N.C.L.E. and asked to have some men waiting for him when he docked. Illya and Col. Quarters would follow in the Bermuda. After the arrangements were made, Illya and the Colonel boarded the sail boat, dragged in the anchor and steered towards shore, watching Napoleon speed off.

They peeled themselves out of their wet suits and dried off. Col. Quarters pulled her hair back in a rubber band and allowed it to air dry before deciding to go below and rest some.

"What time did you get back last night?" Illya asked cautiously.

"Six o'clock this morning," she answered. "I had a lot of work to do and didn't have time to sleep. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I will go lie down. I'm feeling a little light headed," she said then disappeared into the cabin before Illya could respond.

Some time later, Illya went down to check on her and found her asleep. He studied her for a moment before going back up topside.

She was going to be a difficult woman to talk to, he concluded.

Col. Quarters woke from her short nap feeling refreshed and went topside to join Illya as they neared shore. She took the band out of her hair and shook it out. Her hair sparkled of copper in the sunlight.

As Illya admired Col. Quarters, thought it would be a good time to talk to her, but didn't know exactly what to say. He decided to venture forth anyway, knowing that she could rebuke him for saying anything about the day before.

"Col. Quarters?"

"Yes Mr. Kuryakin?"

"I think we should talk."

"About what?" she asked as if she had no idea what it was he wanted to talk to her about.

"About yesterday. On the boat."

"Oh that," she said mildly. "You caught me in a weak moment, that's all. The car chased had left me a bit unnerved and I hadn't recovered yet. I can assure you it won't happen again."

It won't happen again, he thought. She was acting as if she had accidentally injured him. At the moment, his pride did feel a bit injured. He had opened up to her and she was treating it as if it never happened. He studied her face a knew she was lying. He started to say something, but was prevented by Col. Quarters.

"That will be all on the matter, Mr. Kuryakin. I do not discuss my personal life or actions with colleagues. Personal policy."

He decided to try again later. He found her to be a challenge and was not about to give up.

Napoleon was waiting for them when they docked. Illya and Col. Quarters moored the boat and then left it for the local agents to take care of.

"Well?" Illya asked.

"It was Keith Andrews. Autopsy confirmed that it was a bullet through the heart that killed him. Ballistics said it came from a .45 automatic, but there is no way we'll be able to trace it, of course."

"So what do we do now?" Col. Quarters asked.

"I've booked us on a flight to Oregon. Since there aren't any leads left here, it's time we go check that post office box number in Cannon Beach. Our flight leaves early this evening so I suggest we go pack and get ready to go."

They all agreed, so after a light lunch they returned to the hotel to pack and then rapped things up at the local office before going to the airport.

*****

Their flight out had been delayed an hour due to technical difficulties. When they finally left, it was a short flight to Oregon, and it was dark when they checked into their hotel room.

After they dumped their stuff off, Col. Quarters excused herself, saying she had matters to take car of, and left. Illya decided to follow her and see what she was doing.

After leaving the hotel, Col. Quarters turned towards the beach, walked up to the edge of the surf and stared out over the dark ocean. Illya walked up quietly behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. She jumped and quickly whirled around.

"Oh, Mr. Kuryakin, it's you. You startled me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," he said apologetically.

Col. Quarters was about to say it was all right, but changed her mind when she realized that he had followed her.

"What are you doing following me anyway?" she demanded of him.

"I wanted to see what you were up to; and despite what you think, we need to have a talk, where no one will interrupt us, and this is as good as place as any."

She turned back towards the ocean, upset at Illya for being so persistent.

"Why can't you just drop the whole matter?" she asked him, looking at him again.

"Because I don't think you really want to," he answered.

She turned away again, not knowing what to say. It was obvious to her that he knew what she was feeling.

"Let me put it another way," he said interjecting her thoughts. "If you weren't so torn up, then why did you come out here alone?"

-He does know, she thought.

"Okay Mr. Kuryakin, since it is obvious you know me as well as I do, Ill tell you what's up.

"After college I went into the police academy then field agent training to get the training and experience I would need to survive out in the field. During that time I read every possible piece of information available on every conceivable field of science: chemistry, physics, electronics, etc. Only through hard work and effort did I manage to graduate from both places with honors.

"When I applied for a position with Interpol, they put me on survival courses and gave me all sorts of test, to see if I could live up to their expectations. Once they were satisfied with what they saw, they hired me. After receiving the job, I had to work even harder to prove that I was worthy of the more difficult assignments. When they noticed I had the skill and determination necessary, they started giving me the harder assignments. Soon afterwards I began rising in the ranks. It took an endless amount of effort and perseverance, but I finally made it to Colonel and I am one of the most respected agents on the force. During that time, I couldn't let me emotions, anyone or anything get in the way of achieving my goals.

"I am now thirty-two years old and I have been out of college for ten. Since then I have not allowed myself to get emotionally involved with a man. I couldn't afford to. The you came along. Illya Kuryakin, a dour Russian, who in nearly every way, personality and interests, is like me. Added to that, you are a very attractive person with gorgeous blue eyes. As soon as I studied those eyes, I fell for you. But I knew I had to remain emotionally uninvolved for someone like you could be very distracting."

Then she looked back towards the ocean.

"There you have it Mr. Kuryakin," she said turning back to him, "my life story in under five minutes. Now if you don't mine, I'd like to be left alone," she said and started to walk away.

He grabbed her arm as she started to walk away and pulled her back towards him.

"I don't think you do," he said.

She glared at him.

"Let go of my arm Mr. Kuryakin," she said forcefully.

Instead of letting go, he kissed her. She was shocked. As she was about to force herself away and slap him across the face, she instead relaxed and put her arms around him, and his around her. They kissed for several moments before either of them said anything.

"Well Mr. Kuryakin, you've ruined any possibility of me being an efficient agent." She said somewhat breathlessly.

"I don't think so. I think I've just made you a little more human, and the same goes for me. One other thing, must we be so formal?"

"I suppose not. I might even break down and call Mr. Solo Napoleon."

"You know, he's not all that bad and he's a very good agent."

"I know," she said and kissed him again.

"How about going for a walk along the beach?" he asked her.

"I'd love to."

He kissed her one more time, then took her hand and lead her down along the beach.

*****

The next morning as they walked to the post office, Napoleon recalled the changed he had seen in Col. Quarters since she came back from her walk with Illya. She smiled more, her eyes glittered, she was more receptive, rather than being quick to judge, and she called him Napoleon. He welcomed the change. However, his ego was a bit bruised, but he would recover, and deep down he know they suited each other more than himself and her.

When they arrived at the post office they were sent to see the postmaster who was very receptive and helpful. He gave them the address of the renter, Leslie Groves, without asking too many questions.

"It is most unusual that she has a box here when her address is in Greece," he commented.

"She?" asked Col. Quarters. "Then you've seen her?" She had assumed that Leslie was a man.

"No, I can't be sure. I just assumed that with a name like Leslie, it would be a woman."

"I see. Well thank you, you've been most helpful."

"You know, I never thought of that," Col. Quarters said when they were outside the post office.

"You mean that Leslie Groves could be a woman?" Napoleon asked.

"Exactly. I had always assumed Leslie was a man. I just wish we know who we were looking for."

"Well they are two ways to find out. We can either stay here and see who collects the mail for Leslie, or we can go directly to Greece and to the address the postmaster gave us," Illya suggested.

"Why don't we stick around for a couple of days and see who comes along," Col. Quarters offered.

"Good idea as any," Napoleon commented. "Then afterwards we'll go to Greece and see what we can find there."

They each took up different posts and waited. But no one showed up to collect the mail from the post office box. They waited the next day as well with the same results. However that evening they go a phone call from the postmaster.

"Mr. Solo, this is Mr. Griffin, the postmaster. you asked me to call if anything came up."

"Yes, I remember. So what's up?"

"The man you were looking for, his body was found washed ashore about an hour ago. They have him down at the morgue if you want to take a look.:

"Yes, thank you Mr. Griffin. You've been a great help," Napoleon said then hung up.

"What is it Napoleon?" Col. Quarters asked.

"Our mysterious mail collector was found dead, washed up on shore. They have him done at the morgue."

When they arrived at the morgue they asked to see the body. He had been shot through the heart just like Keith Andrews.

"It was the bullet through the heart that killed him," the coroner explained. "The bullet come from a .45 automatic."

"What about the time of death?" Illya asked.

"It's hard to say, but it could have been a couple of days ago."

"What about any personal effects?" Col. Quarters asked.

"Other than a watch, there wasn't any. No wallet, no identification, no nothing."

"What about the postmaster, how did he know about this?" Napoleon asked.

"He was the one who found him."

"I see. Tell me, would it be possible to get a copy of his fingerprints?"

"Sure. Hang on a minute and I'll get them for you."

With finger prints in hand, the three of them drove up to Portland, to the U.N.C.L.E. office, and ran the prints through the computer until it came up with a name.

"Cedric Lysander," the computer operator said. "A THRUSH underling."

"Ah," Napoleon said with some feeling of accomplishment. "Now we're getting somewhere."

"We are?" Col. Quarters asked very puzzled. "And what's thrush? I thought it was a bird."

"Oh it is," Illya explained, "but the ones we're dealing with are very deadly. THRUSH stands for the Technological Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity, and their sole purpose is to rule the world."

"Oh, the Hierarchy!" she exclaimed. "Yes, I've heard of them, although I don't think we've ever gone up against them."

"The Hierarchy is their older name. Now we just call them THRUSH." ⁽¹⁾

"I see. So where does this lead us?"

"Well we'll try Leslie Groves again," Napoleon suggested then turned to the computer operator and asked her to run the name through the computer. A minute later she came up with the answer.

"I'm sorry Mr. Solo, but no person with that name exists," she told him.

"Well it was worth a try," Illya said.

"Since we have come to a dead end here,: Napoleon said, "we might as well head on to Athens on the next possible flight."

They returned to the hotel and made their flight arrangements to Greece to track down the address they got from the postmaster.

*****

It was late evening when they arrived in Athens and they were extremely exhausted. They checked into their hotel immediately and were given a two bedroom suite with a hide-away bed. They set their stuff down and went to bed, deciding things could wait until morning.

However, several hours later, Col. Quarters, feeling very restless, got up, put some clothes on and went for a walk. She did not return until the early hours of the morning. She quietly went to her room, so as not to wake anyone, where she slid under the covers of her bed and fell asleep thinking no one know she had left. But she was wrong. Illya had witnessed both her leaving and returning and wondered what she was up to.

-----

The next morning after a hearty breakfast, they got instructions to Leslie Groves' address and headed out there. The house was far from the city, almost out in the country. And like the Doctor's house, there wasn't another single house around for miles.

Napoleon felt very uneasy. This was going to easily, he thought as they walked up to the door. Illya felt the same way, but the Russian figured he was just overreacting a bit, as he knocked on the door. Several seconds passed and there was no answer.

"Try the doorbell," Col. Quarters suggested.

Illya raised his hand, wondering if he should, then did so. The bell triggered a mechanism that released a trap door under their feet. They went down a chute, about a hundred feet under ground, and then fell into an empty room.

They stood up, massaging their bruised bottoms and took in their surroundings. It was a room of average size with walls of steel. It appeared that the only way out was either they way they came in or the vents at the ceiling that were too small to crawl through. To make sure, however, they each took a wall and inspected it. They found nothing.

"Now what?" Col. Quarters asked.

"I guess all we can do is sit here and wait for something to happen," Napoleon said.

"Not much of a plan, is it?" she said sarcastically.

"Unless you have another idea, Colonel, it is the only one we have at the moment," he responded.

She caught his use of her rank and immediately felt slightly guilty.

"I'm sorry Napoleon. I didn't mean to criticize your competence. It's just that I don't like sitting around felling helpless. Surely you understand that?"

"Yes I do, and I didn't mean to be short with you."

"It's okay. I suppose I've had that coming."

"If you two are through apologizing, I suggest we all just sit down and relax," Illya suggested.

"Good idea Illya," Napoleon said.

The three of them sat down against a wall with Col. Quarters between Napoleon and Illya; Illya had his arm around her and held her close to him. Soon a gas came seeping into the room and within minutes they fell asleep; Col. Quarters rested her head on Illya's shoulder, Illya had his head on hers and Napoleon rested his head on the Colonel's shoulder. They were a cute sight.

It also gave their captors a chance to figure out what to do with them.

*****

"What should we do with them, sir?"

"What do they know?" asked the voice belonging to Leslie Groves.

"Not much. They do know about the research scientists. But other than that, they don't know a thing. They have no idea as to what is being built or who Leslie Groves is, other than he is supposed to be at this address. Our Post Master in Cannon Beach, Oregon sent him here on your orders."

"Yes, thanks to him we got this chance to find out what they know. Okay, wake them up and send them on their way."

"Sir?"

"You said they know nothing, correct?"

"Okay, then we will have Col. Quarters thrown off the scent. Where ever she goes, the men from U.N.C.L.E. will be sure to follow. Besides, it won't look good if they are found dead here in Athens. It could ruin our plans."

"Yes sir. I understand sir."

"Good. Then when you're rid of them, got Col. Phillip Johnson on the phone."

*****

About an hour later the three agents awoke from their sound slumbers with nasty headaches.

"Did someone get the number of that bus?" Napoleon said moaning and putting his hand to his head.

Col. Quarters stirred under his head and he quickly sat up. The Colonel squinted and looked around.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"It looks like we are still in the steel room under Leslie Groves' place," Illya said.

"Oh yes, I remember now. The trap door and stuff," she replied. She tried to get up to stretch her legs, but was defeated by the throbbing pain in her head. She moaned and put her hands to her head.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Quite possibly we were drugged by an ordorless gas, that came through the vents, to find out what we know," the Russian observed.

"Peachy," Col. Quarters said sarcastically. "So now what do we do?"

"Try to find a way out of here," Napoleon said looking around, "before they try something else."

Col. Quarters started to say something but then stopped when she heard an odd noise.

"What's that noise?" she asked.

Napoleon and Illya paused to listed. They heard it too, then the three of them felt themselves being pushed forward. They quickly got up and noticed they walls were closing in on them.

"What do we do?" Col. Quarters asked trying to remain calm.

It was obvious they weren't going to be able to prop something up between the walls to stop them. And there was no visible way out except the chute.

"Our only chance is to get up into the chute."

"Unless you've got suction cups in your pockets for all three of us, Napoleon, the law of gravity is against us," Col. Quarters said sardonically.

Except for the use of Napoleon's first name, rather than his last, she had reverted back to her old nature, which surprised her under the present circumstances.

"There is nothing we can do," Illya said quietly and gloomily as they watched the walls close in on them. Col. Quarters walked over and stood next to Illya.

"Hold me Illya, I'm scared," she whispered to him so Napoleon wouldn't hear. She didn't like to admit that she was scared.

"It's all right," he told her. "You have every reason to be."

As the walls drew closer both Napoleon and Illya began to fear the worst. Then when the walls were about four feet apart, they stopped. When they did, the three agents realized that they had been holding their breaths and let them out with a sigh of relief. Then the wall that had been shrunk to four feet slid open to reveal three men, two standing slightly behind the first.

"Sorry we inconvenienced you like this," he said. "He" was a small nondescript man.

Napoleon, Col. Quarters and Illya, who were looking over Napoleon's shoulders, all stared at him blankly.

"Come again?" Napoleon asked.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience, but it is a security precaution for those who arrive at Prime Minister Malchos' house unannounced."

They were taking him in while he spoke. He was no more than forty, dark skinned with wrinkles, dark graying hair and no visible strength. Then Napoleon caught what he had said.

"Did you say the Prime Minister?" Napoleon asked taken aback?

"Yes I did. Do you have a hearing problem Mr. Solo?"

"You know who we are?" Col. Quarters asked.

"Of course Colonel. We ran a complete check on you when you were unconscious, to find out if you were a threat or not. And now that we know everything, we are releasing you."

"But we were told a Leslie Groves lives here," Illya said interjecting.

"Well then you were told wrong. Now if you'll follow me, I'll show you out."

Totally confused, they followed the unknown person and the two guards down a short passage way to an elevator. The elevator opened up in the study of the Prime Minister's home. Once reaching it, they were promptly shown to the front door and were issued another apology and a good-bye.

*****

Upon returning to the hotel, Napoleon went up to the desk clerk, showed him the address and asked him who lived there. The desk clerk looked at it.

"The Prime Minister of course," he replied.

"Of course," Napoleon said quietly. "Thank you."

"Well?" the others asked him when he returned.

"It's the Prime Minister's"

"What do you think happened?" Col. Quarters asked.

"I'm not sure. It's quite possible we were given a bum steer," Napoleon said.

"Leslie Groves probably told our dead friend back in Cannon Beach to use that address," Illya added.

"Well while you two figure it out, I'm going to go call my superior and report in before I am out of a job," Col. Quarters said.

"Do either of you know the time in D.C.?" she asked them when they were in the room, as she attached her phone scrambler to the ear and mouth piece.

"Not off hand," Napoleon said. "Why don't you just call him anyway."

"I guess you're right," she said and dialed the number. A woman on the other side answered. "Col. Phillip Johnson, please," Col. Quarters said.

------

"Col. Johnson," came the voice on the other side.

"Sir, this is Col. Quarters reporting in."

"Oh good. I've been expecting to hear from you."

"You've received my report thus far then."

"Yes I have. But what I want to know is what you've come up with since then."

She recounted the events that had occurred since they left Tahoe in meticulous detail, all the way up to the events of that day.

"You say it was the Prime Minister's residence the Postmaster gave you?"

"Yes sir."

"Well then it appears to me that the Postmaster works for the Hierarchy and he gave you the Prime Minister's address to throw you off, don't you agree?"

"Yes sir, that did occur to us, but-"

"So I suggest that you go back to Cannon beach and see if there are anymore leads there."

"But sir, we believe that Leslie Groves is indeed here in Athens," she insisted.

"Do you have proof to back that up?" he asked.

"No sir, not at the moment, but-"

"No 'buts' Colonel," he said interrupting her. "You have your orders."

"Yes sir," she replied meekly and then hung up.

She pondered the conversation she just had with her superior as she took the scrambler off the phone and set the receiver in the cradle.

"That's odd," she mumbled.

"What's that?" Illya asked.

"Huh?' she said when he interrupted her thought, then she realized his question.

"Oh, nothing important. I'll tell you later," she said then changed her train of thought. "This is going to seem highly irregular, but I'm going for a swim in the pool: It helps me clear my thinking ability. Anyone care to join me?"

"Maybe later," napoleon said. "We also have to check in."

"All right then, I'll see you later." She changed into her suit and then left.

The pool was nearly empty and the water quite cool and very refreshing. She swam several laps when a thought came to her.

"It's impossible," she said, then as she thought about it more, she realized it was the only possibility. She quickly got out of the pool, grabbed her towel and went back to the room.

"I've got to go back to Washington," she said when she entered the room dripping wet. Napoleon who was in the room was taken aback by her entrance.

"Whoa! Slow down," he said. "What's going on?"

"I've got to back to D.C. I think my superior works for the Hierarchy," she said sounding out of breath.

"THRUSH?" Illya asked as he came in from the other room. "What makes you think that?"

"The conversation I had with him earlier. He told me to continue my investigation in Cannon Beach, the worst possible place to go. I thought it was odd and wasn't going to think much about it, but then it occurred to me that he was trying to have me thrown off. Which would also explain why he didn't want the Doctor's house searched earlier either. he was giving other Hierarchy agents time to clear the place out of visible evidence and plant the bomb."

Napoleon and Illya contemplated her explanation and finally had to agree with her.

"We better get back to New York and have some security checks ran," Napoleon said grimly. "Leslie Groves and his mysterious project can wait a bit. Right now it appears we have two and possibly three breaches in security."

"My superior and the postmaster are the two, who's the other?" she asked somewhat blankly.

"Prime Minister Sebastian Malchos," Illya said gloomily.

*****

On their flight back to New York, Napoleon radioed in on his communicator and asked for a complete security check, especially through the THRUSH files, to be made on Mr. Henry Griffin, postmaster in Cannon Beach, Col. Phillip Johnson of Interpol and Prime Minister Sebastian Malchos of Greece.

When they arrived at U.N.C.L.E. headquarters the files of the first tow were waiting for them on Mr. Waverly's table. The third one, on the Prime Minister, was still being run through. Mr. Waverly was lighting his pipe when they entered. They quietly seated themselves, with Col. quarters between the men from U.N.C.L.E., and looked at the first file while waiting for Mr. Waverly to address them.

"The Postmaster was definitely a THRUSH agent, but is only an underling; we have no interest in him. Col. Johnson is also a THRUSH agent but has a much higher position and should be brought in either by U.N.C.L.E. or Interpol."

"I'll take car of that matter as soon as possible Mr. Waverly," Col. Quarters said noncommittally.

"Very well then," Mr. Waverly said. "To continue, the file on Prime Minister Malchos is still being processed. It should be here soon."

"Has anything been found yet to suggest a connection with THRUSH?" Napoleon inquired.

"When I last checked there wasn't anything, but they still had a ways to go."

At that moment a young woman walked in with a file in her hand which she handed to Mr. Waverly.

"Thank you Miss Anderson," he said and she turned and left. Mr. Waverly opened the file and skimmed though it.

"Well it appears we have caught a live one," he said.

"What does it say sir?" Napoleon questioned.

"Sebastian Malchos, native of Greece; age fifty-two; marital status, single. His father, Alexander Malchos is the owner and president of a prominent shipping industry started by his father before him. Sebastian Malchos was a prominent lawyer who was then appointed to Parliament. He worked his way up and was eventually appointed to position of Prime Minister when the previous one, Giles Erasmus, died about a year after taking office.

"Sebastian is considered a shrewd and cunning man and is feared by many. After he was appointed Premier, it was rumored he was an illegitimate son of Benito Mussolini, but the rumors were eventually proven false."

"That doesn't suggest any THRUSH connections though," Napoleon said interrupting.

"Let me finish please, Mr. Solo," he replied.

"Sorry sir."

"To continue, Prime Minister Malchos is thought to be up for promotion to the Supreme Council of THRUSH Central, but we aren't exactly sure. Malchos has done well covering up his THRUSH connections."

"It looks like we have found our Leslie Groves," Illya said soberly.

Col. Quarters was very surprised, but she had other matters that required her immediate attention.

"Mr. Waverly, I'd like to say that both your organization and Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin have been of great help to me on my assignment, and if it is at all possible I'd like to continue working with them when I return to Greece after my trip to D.C."

"I think that can be arranged."

"Thank you sir. Then if you will excuse me, I have some arrangements to make," Col. Quarters said and got up to leave.

"Sir," Illya said suddenly, "if it is at all possible I'd like to accompany Col. Quarters to Washington as an U.N.C.L.E. representative."

"A good idea at that Mr. Kuryakin," Mr. Waverly replied. "You may offer any assistance on behalf of our organization, if they should require it."

"Yes sir. Thank you sir," Illya replied and escorted Col. Quarters out to make their flight arrangements.

*****

Upon arriving in D.C., Col. Quarters, accompanied by Illya Kuryakin, went to the head office of the D.C. branch of Interpol, to the office of the branch director, Gen. Franklin Jacobs.

Gen. Jacobs was quite surprised to see Col. Quarters, but welcomed both her and Illya heartily. After she introduced Illya, the three of them sat down and the General listened to the Colonel's story and anything else the Russian had to add.

"Why this is fantastic!" the General said when the two finished. "Col. Johnson is one of the best men we have. Surely there must be a mistake."

"I'm afraid not sir," Col. Quarters replied. "I thought so too, but U.N.C.L.E. ran a complete check on him and they have access to some THRUSH files."

"And we are very thorough, General," Illya added. "We checked and double checked. There is no doubt it."

"Well if there is no question about it, then we better place him under arrest. Col. Quarters, I leave the matter in your hands."

"Yes sir. I'll get on it right away. If that is all then...."

"Yes, of course. Dismissed."

Col. Quarters and Illya left the General's office and preceded to her own. She called for two security men to meet her in her office and then assigned other individuals to the matter of interrogation and complete investigation. When the security men arrived they headed towards Col. Johnson's office.

"I'm sorry Col. Quarters, but Col. Johnson is very busy and left specific instructions not to be disturbed," his secretary explained on their arrival.

"This is official business under orders of Gen. Jacobs," she replied curtly and entered his office with the security guards following her. Illya remained behind in the outer office.

"Col. Quarters, this is most unexpected," he said standing up when she entered. "I thought you were in Oregon."

"Col. Phillip Johnson, under orders of Gen. Jacobs, I am placing you under arrest," she said gravely ignoring what he had said. "You are being charged with conspiracy and treason. Gentlemen, take him away."

The security guards stepped forward and took the Colonel away. He made some vociferous protests, but Col. Quarters shut them out as best as she could. When they were obviously gone, she went out into the outer office.

"I suggest you go talk to Gen. Jacobs for further orders, Lieutenant," she told the secretary.

"Yes ma'am," she replied and left.

When she was gone, Col. Quarters walked over to Illya, who put his arm around her and she put her head on his shoulder.

"Come on. I'll take you home," he told her softly.

*****

When they arrived at Col. Quarters' apartment, she disappeared into the bedroom to take her nylons and shoes off.

"Nice place you have here," Illya said to her.

"Thanks," she said as she came out of the bedroom. "Please make yourself at home. Can I get you anything to drink? Vodka?"

"No thank you. Maybe later."

"You don't mind if I have one; it's been a trying day."

"No, go right ahead."

She disappeared into the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of vodka and two glasses, one for Illya just in case, then went back into the living room and set the stuff down on the coffee table.

"You know, I still can't believe Col. Johnson worked for the Hierarchy. He was a good agent too. Who would have suspected?"

Before Illya could reply, the phone rang. Col. Quarters walked over to the phone and answered it.

"Hello?....(pause)....Yes sir, I understand," she said then hung up and walked back to the sofa in partial shock.

"What is it?" Illya asked her noticing the expression on her face.

"Col. Johnson is dead. He yelled something about being loyal to THRUSH and then took a cyanide capsule. At least things well be easier to explain to the press now. We'll be able to say he died of a heart attack," she said, her eyes were vacant when she spoke.

Illya stood up and put his hands on her shoulders to try to relax her.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's all right," she replied looking down at the floor. "The man who committed suicide wasn't Col. Johnson. The Col. Johnson I know died of a heart failure due to the stress of his job." Then she looked up into Illya's blue eyes and smiled meekly. "But that's over now. Now I have to concentrate my efforts to stopping Leslie Groves."

"Why don't you take a night off and relax," he said to her then kissed her.

"Sounds like a good idea," she replied, then she put her arms around him, slid his jacket off his shoulders, took his tie off and kissed him passionately. He put his arms around her and , after some seconds, unzipped her dress and slipped it off of her shoulders leaving her standing in a full slip.

She responded by slipping off his gun holster, then unbuttoned his shirt and took it off of him. As she felt his bare chest, she observed how nicely built he was. Once she had taken his shirt off, Illya picked the Colonel up and carried her into the bedroom, still kissing her as he did so. When in the bedroom, he set her on her feet next to the bed and looked into her sea green eyes as he moved to remove her slip.

Then the phone rang, interrupting him. They both looked at the phone on the night table, then at each other.

"How much do you want to bet it's for you?" Col. Quarters said.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Illya said annoyed.

She went over to the phone and answered it.

"Hello?...(pause)...yes, just a minute," she turned to Illya and handed him the phone. "It's for you; it's Napoleon."

"It figures," he said and took the phone. "Napoleon, you have the worst timing ever...(pause)... Oh nothing; never mind. What's up?"

Col. Quarters grabbed her nylons and shoes and went into the living room to get dressed.

"Why did he use the phone?" She asked when he came back in.

"Because I didn't answer my communicator. We have to go back to New York, Erika. Something big has come up."

As he spoke she had him zip her up. When he had finished she turned around to face him.

"What is it?" she asked eagerly.

"I don't know. He wouldn't say over the phone, but it does have something to do with Leslie Groves," he explained as he got dressed.

"Well then let's go," she said grabbing her bag and headed for the door. Illya grabbed his jacket and followed her. When she reached the door she paused then turned around.

"Oh and Illya, thank you for a nice evening, even though it was interrupted."

He smiled and replied, "It was my pleasure."

He opened the door for her, allowing her to pass through before he followed.

*****

It was late evening when they arrived back at U.N.C.L.E. headquarters in New York. The receptionist told them that Napoleon was waiting for them in the agents' lounge, as she handed them each their badge.

They proceeded down to the elevator and took it up to level two and then walked down the passage way to the agents' lounge. Napoleon was in there alone reading a file report and sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up at them when they entered.

"Sorry I had to ruin your evening, but something urgent has come up," he said apologetically.

"It's all right Napoleon," Col. Quarters said. "Business comes first."

"What have you come up with?" Illya asked him as he held out a chair for Col. Quarters. Once she was seated he too sat down.

"Our Athens office has come up with something on Leslie Groves," Napoleon started.

"Really? What is it?" Col. Quarters asked very surprised. First they had nothing on this person and now they do. Very suspicious, she thought.

"Our Athens office intercepted a communication relay to THRUSH Central. Leslie Groves is planning on assassinating the President of Greece. When he is dead, Leslie plans to take over the position and declaring a dictatorship in the name of THRUSH.

"That's about it," he finished.

"Any idea as to where it originated?" Illya asked.

"'Fraid not. They were lucky enough to get what they did."

"Well then I guess it's back to Greece," Illya said after a thoughtful pause.

"Arrangements have already been made. Our flight leaves within a few hours."

"I wonder when I'm going to be able to unpack my bags. The same clothes have been in there for over a month now," Col. Quarters commented.

"Once we wrap this up, why don't you take some time off and have a vacation," Napoleon suggested.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," she said smiling at Illya. "I think I will do just that. I haven't had a vacation in years."

"Well we better be going," Illya suggested.

They grabbed their belongings and equipment and left for Greece, again.

*****

"What is it now?" asked Leslie Groves when his aid walked into his study. He did not like being interrupted during his evening cocktail.

"Then men from U.N.C.L.E. and the woman from Interpol have returned."

"What?! I thought they were sent to chase a dead lead! Didn't Col. Johnson give her her new orders?"

"I'm sure he did, but he's dead now."

"What? When did this happen?"

"Early this morning; last night D.C. time. It is said he died of a heart attack, but our agents have heard word that he was arrested by Col. Quarters, and later took a suicide pill. And Col. Quarters was seen both in New York and D.C."

"Why wasn't I told of this earlier?"

"I just found out now sir."

"Never mind that. When did they arrive?"

"About an hour ago. They are on their way to their hotel now. Our men have been following them since they left the airport."

"All right then, since it's obvious they are on to us, we'll have to dispose of them."

"What do you want me to do with sir?"

"The Colonel, she wears expensive clothing and jewelry, does she not?"

"I hadn't really noticed, sir."

"I believe she does. And I also believe Mr. Solo wears expensive suits. Okay then, here's what you can do: Have a couple of our men take care of them. Make it look like a street killing, a mugging; something the police won't be real interested in."

"Yes sir, I'll get right on it."

"And notify me of the results."

"Yes sir, I will."

*****

The three agents left the hotel shortly after checking in and headed towards the U.N.C.L.E. headquarters in Athens on foot. After walking about a quarter of a mile, they realized they were being followed. They decided to let the individual continue following them and planned on leading him into an empty alley.

But the plan failed. As they neared an alley another man walked out in front of them with a gun pointed straight at their stomachs. They turned and saw that the other man had come up behind them, also with a gun. He motioned for them to turn around and then they were forced into the alley.

They walked until they were some way in, where no one would notice anything. They halted and the thugs walked up along side them. The agents turned and faced them. The thugs were muscularly built, wore dark clothes, very scruffy and Mediterranean looking.

"What do we do now?" the shorter of the two asked.

"Our orders were to make it look like a street killing - a mugging. That's exactly what we're going to do," the other responded.

"Gentlemen, there must be some mistake," Col. Quarters said. She slowly started to walk towards them, slow enough so as not to make them nervous. "Why should anyone want to kill me?" She continued keeping her eyes on their faces and guns at the same time. "I'm only a simple courtesian; a call girl."

"What?" Napoleon said unconsciously, then rather glad he did because it gave Col. Quarters the lead she needed to continue.

"I'm sorry you had to find our this way Mr. Vaughn," she said continuing to look at the two killers playing up to their male libido. "Actually, you weren't even meant to find out at all. you see, your foreign friend here hired me to make sure you had a good time while you were here in Greece. He needed you to sign the trade agreement and I was the key to the whole matter."

Napoleon and Illya watched the effect Col. Quarters was having on their prospective killers and noticed that they were slowly lowering their guard. When the moment was right, they would make their move. Col. Quarters continued to talk, still facing the thugs.

"However, if you two gentlemen will spare us our lives, I can see to it you have the best night of your lives, at no charge to you. And I mean the best, because I'm very good at my job. Men come to me from around the world because they like the way I perform in bed - the way they want me to."

When she saw their guard was relaxed enough, she turned towards Illya and Napoleon.

"And you needn't worry Mr. McCallum, I won't charge you that much extra."

When she finished her sentence she jammed the guy on her right in the gut with her elbow, turned and knocked the gun out of the other guy's hand then turned back to the first guy and kicked his gun out of his hand. Napoleon and Illya took their cues and charged, ramming the men against the wall of the building opposite them. Col. Quarters go out of the way, took a deep breath then turned to see what was happening. She drew her gun from underneath her blazer and tried to look for an open shot. But she couldn't risk it without accidentally hitting Illya or Napoleon. Instead she looked for another way to help. Napoleon seemed to be fairing well with his opponent. Illya, however, was in an arm lock and beginning to look blue. Col. Quarters holstered her gun and quickly ran to his aid. She gave the guy a karate blow to the neck but it didn't seem to phase him. She took out her gun and hit him in the same place with the butt. This time he turned to face her dropping Illya to the ground semi-conscious. The gorilla looked like he was going to strike her, but before he could, she brought he knee up into his groin. He doubled over in pain. then when he was bent over, she put her hands on his head and brought her knee up under his jaw. He fell back unconscious.

She turned to see how Napoleon was fairing. He was in a heap on the ground and the guy was going for his gun. Col. Quarters moved to pick hers up, then dropped and rolled as the guy fired. The bulled nearly grazed her arm. She took aim and fired. The guy dropped his gun and fell to the ground. Col. Quarters go up and ran to Napoleon to see how he was. Illya, whose color had returned to him, go up and went to the guy that had been shot. After seeing that Napoleon was alive, she turned to Illya. The Russian was looking at her bewildered.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"He's dead," he said in a monotone voice. "Shot through the heart. With a .45 automatic."

*****

After clearing things up with the local police, who arrived almost immediately on the scene, the three agents continue towards headquarters in complete silence. When they arrived, Col. Quarters was asked to wait in the agents' lounge while Napoleon and Illya went off to take care of some business.

The Colonel was alone in the lounge, nursing a cup of tea, when Illya walked in.

"Would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?" Col. Quarters demanded, the tone in her voice and her eyes even colder.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," Illya responded, his voice emotionless, his eyes cold, icy and bitter.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You've been acting real strange Illya, or should I say Mr. Kuryakin?" She was angry and bitter. Illya made no response so she continued.

"Very strange. Ever since I shot that man in the alley," she said then the matter dawned on her. "That's it, isn't it? Because I shot him in the heart, just like the others, and my gun happens to be a .45 automatic. That's it, isn't it?"

He still didn't respond. She began to get real defensive and returned to her original impression of Illya; cold and heartless.

"I don't believe this! You actually think I killed those other tow men don't you?"

He gave her a cold glare which perturbed the Colonel even more.

"I s'pose it wouldn't do any good to tell you I didn't do it, would it?" I could also suggest that you inspect the magazines to my gun and you would see that they are all full, except for the one that was used today. But that wouldn't prove anything, because I could have disposed of them once I disposed of the individuals."

"You're beginning to make a good case against yourself," Illya said finally, his tone still emotionless.

Col. Quarters ignored his comment.

"I suppose you have some other incidents to support your suspicions?" she asked vehemently.

"There was the night you left to do 'paperwork', as you put it, and didn't return until morning."

"But Andrews was already dead by then!"

"You could have had someone 'dispose' of him, as you put it; or who's to say you weren't in Tahoe earlier and took care of him yourself?"

"That sounds pretty weak to me!" she mocked.

"Since the only one who could testify otherwise is conveniently dead," he finished.

"But I didn't kill the Doctor and you know that!" she said defensively, then regained composure and continued. "Okay, what about Cedric Lysander. You were with me that night on the beach. How could I have murdered anyone then?"

"you could have gone out once Napoleon and I were asleep. I slept soundly that night and it's just possible you could have rolled out of bed as you turned over and I would never have noticed. And being a top agent, you could have slipped out without either Napoleon or I hearing you. Also who's to say...."

"Yes, who's to say I wasn't there earlier and killed him. I get the picture. I suppose you saw me slip out our first night in Athens, and then return hours later."

"I did."

"And then we had that incident at the Premier's. This is just peach, you know that! All you have is circumstantial evidence and not a single shred of hard evidence to link me to the Hierarchy."

She waited for him to respond. He didn't

"Why don't you run a security check on me?"

"You already admitted to Napoleon that you changed your name."

"I could give you my previous name."

"How would I know you were telling me the truth?"

"True. I could be a pathological liar and you wouldn't know it," she said sarcastically. "I have one more suggestion; run my fingerprints through the computer. The record will contain both names. Then you can decide if my fingerprints are liars or not!"

"Tell me something, why do you refer to THRUSH as the Hierarchy?" he asked her while he thought about her suggestion.

"We've always referred to it as that around Interpol. I think perhaps Col. Johnson may have the most. Why?"

"Only the older members of THRUSH call it that," he said.

She was surprised, but tried not to show it.

"What about my prints?"

Illya quietly go up and asked her to follow him. He had her fingerprinted and photographed, then asked for a thorough security check be made on her.

"Well if you are through, I will be on my way," she said.

"What if I asked to have you detained?"

"You have no authority to do so because you don't have solid piece of evidence against me!" she said defiantly, then left.

Illya watched her leave, then asked himself how could have almost slept with a possible THRUSH agent. Napoleon might be able to do that sort of thing, but he couldn't. Then the Russian began to wonder if she really was or was not a THRUSH agent. He couldn't be sure anymore and that bothered him. He should never have gotten emotionally involved with another agent, he told himself.

Col. Quarters returned to the hotel, packed her belongings and asked to be moved to another room, on a different floor. When she had been provided with a new room, she went out for a long walk and thought.

*****

"What are we going to do about her?" Napoleon asked.

"I have no idea," Illya replied gloomily.

"Well she checks out; she is who she says she is, and we didn't find any possible connections to THRUSH. Do you really think she is one of them?"

"I don't know. I really don't know and that's what bothers me. I can't be sure of anything right now."

"What happened between you two?"

Illya gave him a dry glare. "That is none of your business," he told him.

"Sorry I asked. Look, why don't you go practice your karate or your aim on the firing range; take you mind off of things for a while. I'll go make some inquiries, then we can return to the hotel."

"All right. It might be a good idea, and it might work. I'll see you in a while."

*****

"Well have they been disposed of?" Leslie Groves asked his aide.

"Not exactly sir," he replied meekly.

"What do you mean 'not exactly' ?! They either have or they haven't! Which is it?"

"They haven't sir."

"What? What happened? I want to know every detail."

"Well everything is real sketchy. Our post in the building across from the alley couldn't get a clear view. From what he could see, Col. Quarters somehow distracted our men and disarmed them of their weapons. When she had, the men from U.N.C.L.E. took over, but didn't do too well. Col. Quarters finally knocked one out and killed the other. The first was later arrested when the police arrived."

"I should have known better than to use underlings!"

"What do you want me to do now sir?"

"What's the present status?"

"I'm not real sure. Col. Quarters returned to the hotel alone and moved into another room. Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin were still at U.N.C.L.E. at last check."

"All right then, give me some time to think about it. I want to make sure it's done right next time."

"Yes sir."

*****

Col. Quarters was out on her balcony when there was a knock at the door. She heaved a sigh and then went in and answered it. It was Napoleon and Illya.

"What do you want?" she demanded of them.

"We want to talk," Napoleon said calmly, then the two of them walked past her into the room. She shut the door and followed them.

"Before you two gentlemen say anything I have something to say to you. I have phoned Gen. Jacobs to see if there was any way I could be taken off this assignment, but he replied that since I was the only one in possession of all the information needed to stop Leslie Groves, I was required to stay on the assignment. So instead I have come up with this conclusion: since you were asked to help me on this, and it is not your assignment, there is no reason why you have to stay here in Athens to help me. Other than that I have nothing else to say, so if you'll excuse me, I would like to get something to eat. Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin."

She was very sharp with them. When she finished talking, she moved to the bedroom to get ready to leave.

"We're not leaving until we've talked to you," Illya said soberly.

"She turned back to them, angered at their persistence.

"Well than you have a problem because I will be leaving shortly and I won't return until you've left."

"We'll still be here, waiting," Illya said.

"Listen you two, as far as I'm concerned we have nothing to discuss. It is obvious to me that you don't trust me and I don't work with anybody that doesn't know where my loyalties lie. My loyalties are with Interpol and the U.S., but it is apparent that you have your doubts, at least Mr. Kuryakin does."

She gave him a cold hard glare. The Russian leveled his gave to hers, abut it was by no means bitter or vengeful. It was an emotionless gaze showing that he was serious and meant to discuss business. Col. Quarters could sense that, but she was in no mood to do any discussing of any kind.

"But that is what we want to talk to you about," Napoleon replied. He was having troubles getting through to her. She was a hard and stubborn person like Illya. But she needed those qualities to survive in this business.

"Look you to," she said getting very annoyed, "I just wish you would leave. You are giving me a...." Her sentence trailed off as she saw the curtains to the balcony move, but there was no breeze. "....a headache," she finished quietly. She motioned for them to be quiet, then continued talking as she picked her up from the coffee table and moved towards the balcony door.

"And it's going to ruin any chance of me enjoying what's left of this evening. Now once again, if you'll excuse me."

When she reached the door, she pulled the curtains back and pulled the person in, pointing her gun at him. The person was a monk.

-----

She said something to the monk emphatically in Greek, which was somewhat difficult considering it was not one of her better languages, but it was good enough so that she could be understood.

"My name is Brother Angelo. I a from the Order of St. Theophilus and I do speak English."

"Order of St. Theophilus?" Illya queried. "I've never heard of it."

"We're a fairly obscure group of monks and our order is not that old; no more than sixty years. We live on a small island off the coast of Mikonos and we grow grains, vegetables and fruit, which we take to market, and heard goats."

"What were you doing on my balcony?" Col. Quarters asked again, this time in English.

"I am here for two reason," he said.

"Well let's hear them," she demanded.

"First and most importantly, I am here to ask for you help."

Col. Quarters was somewhat surprised and her anger faded. She studied the monk. He was young, about mid-twenties, no more than thirty, at the most. He had nice features, dark brown hair and hazel eyes; of average height and build, and seemed to be shy, although climbing onto someone's balcony six floors up to asked for help doesn't really exhibit shyness.

"Please sit down," she said offering him a chair. "I was about to order room service for myself. Can I get anybody anything?"

"Perhaps you should have a pot of coffee sent up," Napoleon suggested. "It looks like it is going to be a long evening."

"Nothing for me, thank you," Brother Angelo replied.

"Well if you'll excuse me a minute, I'll go place the order," she said then disappeared into the bedroom to make the call. Illya followed and took out his communicator.

"Open channel L: Athens office."

"Athens office," came a male voice.

"This is Mr. Kuryakin. Could you please tell me if you have any information on an order of monks calling themselves the Order of St. Theophilus."

"One moment please."

"Don't tell me you don't believe him either," Col. Quarters said in a low voice.

"After today's events one can't be too sure."

She heaved a sigh of disgust and made her call, ordering a pot of coffee, a pot of tea and a sandwich for herself. Illya finished talking to the Athens office at the same moment the Colonel hung up the phone.

"Well?" she asked.

"His story checks out," he replied.

"Good, then let's go join them."

They returned to the other room just as napoleon finished scanning the room for bugs.

"The room is clean," he said when the two entered.

"Good," Col. Quarters said. "Then let's get down to business."

Illya and Napoleon sat down on the sofa and Col. Quarters pulled up an additional chair.

"First of all, how did you know to come here?" she asked the young monk.

"That is a question I'm not allowed to fully answer. All I can say is that one of our Brothers overheard a conversation of the people who have taken over our island, and your names were mentioned. As for locating you, all I can say is that we monks also have our connections."

"You mentioned that some men have taken over your island," Napoleon said. "Who are they and why?"

"We aren't totally sure. Some months ago, a group of men headed by the Prime Minister invaded our island and drove us from our monastery. They also destroyed many of our crops and killed several of our goats, forcing us to leave our island. Since then, most of us have been living about twenty miles northeast of here, replanting our crops and starting over trying to build a temporary the island to act as spies to try to find out what was going on. All they seemed to have discovered is that they have turned our monastery into some sort of laboratory; and there is a lot of electronical equipment and computers around."

"You said this group was headed by the Prime Minister," Col. Quarters asked.

"Yes."

"Of Greece?" she asked for verification.

"Yes."

"Could you describe the men?" Napoleon asked.

"They were average men, nothing really special about them, except they carried some sort of gun, that kind of looked like rifles, but weren't really. Oh, and they also wore badges with a number and a bird on them. I believe it was a thrush."

They nodded knowingly, their suspicions confirmed.

"So what do you want us for?" Col. Quarters asked.

"To help us rid our island of these evil people. One of the brothers overheard a conversation between the Prime Minister and one of the workers; the Prime Minister was complaining because he believes you are onto them and until you've been disposed of, they cannot progress forward with their plan."

"Do you have any idea what their plan is?"

"Something has been said about killing someone, but the brothers aren't sure as to who."

"You said there were two reasons for coming here. What's the other?" Illya asked.

"Your lives are in grave danger. I know about the attempt made on your lives today. And your every move is being watched. This entire building is under surveillance."

The three agents were surprised. They had had no idea that they were being observed so closely. They were speechless.

Then there was a knock at the door, breaking the silence. Col. Quarters got up and answered the door. It was room service. She signed the check and wheeled the cart in herself. They all looked at the pot of coffee, tea and the Colonel's sandwich.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Brother Angelo said.

Illya inspected the cart for a bomb, then inspected the food. Both beverages smelled of bitter almonds.

Potassium cyanide in the drinks," he said.

"Well Brother Angelo, it's a good thing you came when you did," Napoleon said. "You also have our help."

"Good. We greatly appreciate it. And to begin with I suggest you leave this hotel immediately and come stay with us at our monastery."

"That's a good idea. But if this place is surrounded, how are we going to get out or here?" Illya asked.

"Leave that to me," the Colonel replied with a mischievous grin.

*****

An hour later an elderly couple and two other older gentlemen checked out of the hotel, climbed into a waiting car and drove off without incident.

*****

Upon arriving at the monastery, the three agents were shown to a room with three cots and a washroom. It wasn't the greatest accommodations, but it was better than the morgue.

After Brother Angelo left them Col. Quarters sat down on her cot and took in the situation.

"This is peachy," she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" Napoleon asked.

"Nothing!" she answered defensively. "I don't even know why you two are still around. There's nothing holding you here."

"Except you," Illya told her.

"I can look after myself, thank you. Or are you sticking around because you still think I'm a THRUSH?"

"Neither," Napoleon said. "We promised our assistance in this until the end and we are going to see it through."

"Oh, I get it. You are here under obligation. If you left before things were resolved, Mr. Waverly would just send you back; so you're staying rather than wasting time; Well let me tell you something; you are wasting my time and I wish you leave. Give yourselves a vacation or something."

Illya began to get real tired of her attitude.

"Listen Colonel," he said walking towards her, "if anyone's time is being wasted, it's ours, listening to this 'higher-than-mighty' attitude of yours. Your integrity was insulted and I'm sorry, but that's no reason to act like this!"

"You're sorry?!" she said standing up and facing him. "That's a hot one! Because I was trained to shoot to kill, by aiming for the heart, you naturally assume that I'm a THRUSH. That and the fact that I get restless when on assignment."

"I don't know why I even bother to apologize to someone who can't stand having her dignity injured."

"That's a good one, coming from someone who can't stand the idea that he thought he almost slept with a THRUSH agent!"

Illya looked at her angered, then slapped her across the face. He was immediately upset with himself with having let himself get provoked in such a matter.

Upset with herself for letting her anger get out of control, she turned on her heels and walked out of the room.

*****

About an hour or so later, Illya found the Colonel wandering around outside the monastery. He walked up behind her quietly, but she heard him coming and turned around. He could tell she had been crying; the tears on her face glistened in the moonlight. When she realized it was him, she wiped the tears away and turned her back to him.

"Mr. Kuryakin," she said sounding flustered. "What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you," he replied quietly.

"Oh?" she said, her back still to him.

"Yes. I wanted to apologize for the way I acted. I let my emotions dictate my actions, something I never do, and I'm afraid they got the better of me."

She whirled around to face him, her face streaming with tears again; this time she did not wipe them away.

"There is no need for you to apologize Illya. I let pride get in my way and my red-haired temper got the better of me, once again. I'm afraid I acted like a cold heartless bitch and I'm terribly sorry."

He looked at her, wiped her tears away and kissed her softly on the lips.

"Apology accepted," he said. "You know, we gave Napoleon a real shock back there. He's never seen me get so angry. And then what you said about us...."

"Oh Illya, I'm sorry! It just came out. I had completely forgotten he was there."

"No matter. Let's just forget the whole matter occurred and go get some rest. You look exhausted."

"You know I think I will sleep soundly for the first time tonight in a long time."

"Then let's not waste too much more time."

He took her hand and led her back to the monastery.

*****

Late the next morning, Illya went back to their room to check on Col. Quarters; she was still asleep. He walked over to her cot, knelt down beside her and kissed her gently on the cheek. She stirred, rolled over and faced him.

"'Morning sleepy-head," he said. "Planning to get up today?"

"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.

"Ten forty-five a.m.," he replied.

"Ten forty-five? Why didn't you wake me earlier?" she said jumping out of bed and going around the room in circles, visibly confused.

"You needed your rest," he explained, then noting her confusion he said, "I'll leave while you get ready. I'll meet you downstairs."

-----

When she was ready, she went downstairs, and then the three agents met with Brother Angelo and Father Georgios; they discussed the island and the men who were on it.

"Before we can do anything," Napoleon explained, "we first need to evaluate the situation, and to do that, the three of us need to get on the island unobserved."

"That shouldn't be too difficult," Brother Angelo said. "These people already know that our other brothers are on the island. They just ignore them figuring they don't understand enough of what's going on to report it to anybody. I don't think they'll notice two more monks, although I don't know about Col. Quarters...."

She understood what he was getting at. It was most unusual and irregular for her to be allowed in the monastery, but for her to pose as a monk, that would top it all.

"I'm going as well," she said with a smile.

"Well then I guess they won't notice three more monks."

"Arrangements will be made immediately," Father Georgios explained. "You will be notified as soon as they are completed." Father Georgios then rose and left.

-----

Some hours later, three monks, in a small boat, left the island of Mikonos and landed on the island belonging to the Order of St. Theophilus.

*****

Once they arrived on the island, they were met by the members of the Order that were living on the island still. The monks took them to their "hide-out", a cave hidden amongst trees and bushes, and discussed matters.

"Do you have any idea as to what they're doing?" Napoleon asked. They needed to be sure of what was being built before they could take any drastic measures. As for the President, he was under constant surveillance; there wasn't a move he made that U.N.C.L.E. wasn't aware of.

"Not really, I'm afraid. They are building something in their laboratory, but what it is we don't know. There are many scientists running around, a lot of equipment and some computers."

"Can you describe what is being built?" Illya asked.

The monk thought a moment trying to form an image in his mind.

"It is cylindrical, made of metal; it looks like it could be a bomb of some sort."

"A bomb?" Col. Quarters asked surprised. "Are you sure?"

"No ma'am, not real sure. I've never seen one before, so I can't be positive, but it looks like what I think a bomb would look like."

The three agents pondered the situation a moment before Napoleon spoke.

"I think we better go check this out."

"Then allow us to show you the way," a voice said behind them. They turned around and standing there were three men with machine guns. Than agents put their hands up, resigningly.

*****

The three agents and the monks were escorted from the hide-out to the monastery. The monks were locked up in a separate wing from the agents, and were unguarded. The agents on the other hand, were heavily guarded. At the moment there was no apparent escape route and they had no plan, but they were working on one.

"What do we do now?" Col. Quarters asked. "We have been relieved of all our concealed weapons and we are heavily guarded. We're stuck."

She was restless and angry; when she is captured, she doesn't like to be left sitting around, helpless, and it showed.

"Wait and see what their next move is, I guess," Napoleon responded.

"That's it? I hate that! I hate being cooped up like this! I get restless and I can't stand that! There must be something we can do."

"At the moment, just sit down and relax," Illya said. "In a backward sort of way, we're holding the ace: as long as they believe we can escape, they won't make a move or do much planning, and that is to our advantage; it gives us time to stop whatever they're working on."

"But that still doesn't help the fact that we're cooped up here without weapons or anything else."

"Erika, just relax, would you?" Napoleon said.

She quieted down and realized she was on the verge of hysterics. She took off her robe and sat down in a corner, sulking. Napoleon and Illya took off their robes then walked over to where the Colonel was and sat with her. But they didn't sit long. The door opened up and three men with guns walked in.

"Come on," one of them said. "The boss wants to see you."

The three of them got up and were escorted by the three guards to an office off of the laboratory. They expected to see the Prime Minister, but who they saw was....

"Col. Johnson!" Col. Quarters exclaimed.

"I thought you said he was dead," Illya said.

"I did. At least that is what I was told," she said confused.

"It's amazing what the Hierarchy can do with what appears to be a cyanide capsule. Even my own people thought I was dead until I showed up here."

"But how? How...could...." the Col. stammered.

"How did I survive? Well the capsule was composed of digitlisis, a drug that slows down all the natural body functions until they are virtually untraceable; and it was made to smell like bitter almonds. When I revived I found myself in the morgue of Interpol. I just pushed myself out and luckily no one was around. All I had to do was grab some clothes and sneak out of there."

"But what I want to know is how you figured out I was a member of the Hierarchy."

"Trying to send me to Oregon just didn't wash. That was about the worst possible place to go. That's when I figured it out."

"But you didn't have the proof. How did you get the General believe you?"

"U.N.C.L.E. gave me all the info Interpol would need. U.N.C.L.E. is quite thorough. More than you give them credit for."

"Yes, I was told Solo and Kuryakin were good. I should have listened, but I couldn't believe that they were as good as Hierarchy Central had told me."

"You better watch what you say," Napoleon said. "You never know who might be listening."

Col. Johnson, who had forgotten Napoleon and Illya were around, now looked at them.

"You can say what you like Mr. Solo, but I have plans for you and your partner," he said. "And for Col. Quarters," he added.

"And they are?" Col. Quarters asked knowing that she would soon regret it.

"Since Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin can not operate on this assignment without you Colonels, I have been instructed to turn them loose."

They know this was not true and as Col. Johnson paused for effect, the agents tried to figure out what he was up to.

"Provided they can get off the island alive," he finally finished.

"That shouldn't be too hard," Napoleon said trying to reassure himself.

"Ah, but we've provided you with an obstacle, our two new top agents," he said then pressed an intercom button on his desk. "Send Nick and Ivan in," he said.

Within minutes the door behind them opened and the agents turned to see who entered. Standing there just inside the door, were two agents, mirror images of Napoleon and Illya.

"As you can see, we created clones exact in every detail including Mr. Solo's suit and Mr. Kuryakin's black garb. We even managed to provide them with a duplicate of your U.N.C.L.E. specials even though we find it an inferior gun to our own."

The agents were speechless. All they could do was take in every detail of the clones and try to find some possible flaw - but there was none.

"Thank you gentlemen. You may go." After they left the agents turned back around.

"You see, we're utilizing an agent's greatest fear, or at least one of them, shooting his partner. I wish you luck and hope you know each other well enough so that you can tell the real from the fake. Guards, take them away and turn them loose. Be sure you provide them with their guns with a couple magazines of bullets. We wouldn't want them to use sleep inducing darts. That would defeat the purpose."

Two of the guards each took Illya and Napoleon by an arm and started to force them out when Illya stood fast and turned back to face Col. Johnson.

"What about the Colonel?"

"Tell me Mr. Kuryakin, did you know that Col. Quarters greatest fears are of spiders and falling? It'll be interesting to see how she reacts when exposed to both," he replied with a fiendish smile. "Take them away!"

Illya looked slightly worried as he was shoved out the door after Napoleon.

Col. Quarters turned back towards the Colonel with a puzzled expression on her face.

"What are you talking about? You know I over came those fears."

"Of course you did; a top agent like yourself wouldn't let something like that slow her down. But Solo and Kuryakin don't know that do they," he said as he again pressed the intercom button. "Please send Ellen in."

A feeling of dread come over Col. Quarters as she turned and saw an exact duplicate of herself walk into the room. After Col. Quarters had a good look at the woman, Col. Johnson spoke up.

"Thank you Ellen, that will be all for now." Without a word the woman turned and left. Col. Quarters turned back to Col. Johnson, a sick feeling in her stomach.

"You see it is useless to drug Solo and Kuryakin to try to question them because of their subliminal conditioning - we wouldn't know what is true and what is false. Even when they're conscious, we wouldn't know what kind of reaction we would get. You however don't have this conditioning and we can get all sorts of answers out of you."

"I don't know what I can tell you that you don't already know," she said defiantly trying to muster up some of her courage.

"Well for starters you can tell me what you've uncovered on Leslie Groves, tidbits about U.N.C.L.E., and even Interpol; being an active field operative there are things that you have access to that I do not without proper authorization."

"I'll die first before I tell you anything," she said bitterly; she hated using clichés, but she had to say something.

"Let's hope it won't come to that," he replied.

"But what does this have to do with having a clone of me?" she remembered.

"No doubt one of the U.N.C.L.E. agents will survive. Perhaps even both. If one or both do survive, they will undoubtedly come back for you, but who they were find will be Ellen. She is instructed to go with and kill them."

She began to worry for Illya and napoleon. There was no way they were going to leave the island alive.

"What if one of them is one of your agents?" she asked.

"There will be a recognition code. But if they fail to communicate, well se la vie."

She shuddered inside at the coldness of her former boss, the man she thought was compassionate towards his agent.

"You're despicable!" she said in disgust. He merely laughed and then motioned for the guard to take her away.

*****

As Napoleon and Illya were being escorted outside, their guns loaded with bullets, their keen minds were racing, trying to think up a code. Finally Napoleon spoke up.

"Well my friend, for once in our careers we won't be able to 'monkey around' in this country air on this one. I just hope that if we both get out of this alive, you'll tell me something about your ancestry." ⁽²⁾

The Russian looked at his partner puzzled, wondering how he could be thinking of his heritage at a time like this; then it dawned on him what Napoleon was talking about.

"Will do," he responded.

As soon as they were outside there was a gun shot; the bullet whizzed between them as an attempt to separate them. Instead they both dropped to the ground next to each other. Napoleon pointed to a tree about a hundred feet away. Illya nodded and the two crawled towards it.

Illya was the first to climb it as Napoleon covered him. Then Napoleon followed. From that vantage point they had a good view for some hundreds of feet. They could see if anyone approached. They sat there in their perch for sometime, but nothing happened.

"I don't like this," Illya said. "They're too quiet."

"I have to agree with you. They must be up to something."

As if on cue, an arrow went flying through the leaves.

"They're shooting arrows at us," Napoleon said, surprised.

"It's more than just arrows," Illya added, "they're flaming arrows!"

He had just finished his sentence when the next arrow flew just above their heads, this time catching some leaves on fire.

"Now what do we do? We jump they'll attempt to separate us and might succeed. If we stay here we'll be toasted."

"And if we go back to the monastery we'll surely be shot," Illya added somberly.

"What about the cave?"

"What about it?"

"We could head towards it and have a code in case we get separated. And we better come up with one fast before we're fried."

"All right," Illya said in a low tone, "but when we get out of this we go back for Erika; I think I may be falling for her."

Napoleon looked at his Russian partner, surprised but knew it was to be used as a code.

"All right then, let's go."

"They jumped out of the tree and were immediately showered upon with bullets. The two dived in separate directions. The people had succeeded in separating them, but Illya and Napoleon knew their goal; to get to the cave.

Illya arrived their first. He had been winged in the left arm, but it was only a scratch. He was relieved for that. He took his jacket and shirt off them ripped the sleeve off his shirt and tied his arm up with it as best as he could. He had just gotten his jacked back on when Napoleon ran in and noticed that his partner was wounded.

"You all right?"

"Fine. It's only a scratch. What do we do now?"

"Go get the Colonel so we can stop Leslie Groves."

"Sounds like a plan, but the wrong one," Illya said and whipped out his gun and killed the impostor.

"He bend down over the dead body to search it, relieved that he didn't find any identification.

He had just finished when Napoleon walked in. They had both taken care of their killers, but they had to make sure.

"Wrong plan?" Napoleon asked.

"Wrong one."

"Well then, now that we've taken care of these guys, what say we go back and get Erika. We wouldn't' want the woman my partner is in love with to be left behind." His wording left something to be desired but it was the code.

"Napoleon, I said I think I may be falling for her, not that I was in love with her," he corrected.

"Close enough," Napoleon said with a smile. "Napoleon let's go."

*****

Col. Quarters' impostor was hanging by wrists from the ceiling of a room full of spiders. The real Colonel however was in a secretive wing of the monastery, hanging by her wrists and her feet tied down to the floor so she couldn't knock anyone's teeth out. She had no idea as to what was going on. Everyone was very quiet and no one said anything. Finally Col. Johnson walked in with a burly looking man toting a whip. She didn't like the looks of it.

"Well Col. Quarters, it's time. Are you ready for this?"

"How does one get ready for torture?" she said acidly.

"Are you going to cooperate?" he asked, rephrasing the question.

"You should know the answer to that. I am the most stubborn agent on the force."

"We'll see about that. Colonel, I'd like you to meet Max. His specialty is whips. His favorite is the one he's carrying now, a leather one with various sizes and sharpness of glass imbedded into it. Very painful and very deadly. In fact, all of his victims have died of blood loss because they refused to give in. And the ones that did give in, died before the questions put to them. Now are you sure you want to remain obstinate?"

"Positive, so eat shit and die!"

"Well then, I will let Max do his job. If it becomes too much for you and you decide to talk, all you have to do is yell stop."

"I doubt I will have the urge."

"If you say so. Max, go to work."

Col. Johnson stepped off into the background as Max stepped forward. Col. Quarters braced herself for the pain that she know would come. When it did, she cried out in agony as she felt the burn of the whip on her back and the pieces of glass digging into her flesh. After the first strike she prayed that she would pass out from either the pain or the blood loss before she had the urge to give in.

After about the fifth strike came, her wish came true; the pain was more than her body could take and she fainted.

Col. Johnson, seeing this, immediately told Max to stop and ordered the guards to take her down and take her to her cell.

Her body was limp and lifeless and her back was a gashed up bloody mess, but she was still alive.

*****

Napoleon and Illya managed to get back into the monastery undetected and headed for the lower level where they assumed THRUSH would be holding Col. Quarters. They prowled around looking in various rooms for Col. Quarters. Finally they came across a door with a guard standing watch in front of it. They didn't want to shoot him, but when he drew his gun, he left them no alternative. Once he was taken care of, they unlocked the door with the key on the guard's belt and opened it up. Inside they found who they thought was Col. Quarters hanging from the ceiling with the floor swarming with spiders. Upon seeing them, she called out to them.

"Illya, Napoleon! Thank go you're alive! Please hurry up and get me down from here!" she said trying to sound like she was on the verge of hysterics.

Napoleon went over to the wall where the rope was tied down to, untied it and slowly lowered her into Illya's waiting arms. Once Illya had her, Napoleon walked over to them and untied her wrists. Once they were free she clung to Illya profusely as if she had been through a painful ordeal.

"Let's get you out of here," Illya told her.

He carried her out of the room, then set her on her feet once they were out the door. The three then hurried out of the monastery. Once outside they had only gone a few yards when the Colonel dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Illya and Napoleon instantly pulled out their guns and turned around. Who they saw standing there was Brother Angelo.

"What did you do that for?!" Illya demanded of him.

"That is not the Colonel. This is another impostor, just like the ones that tried to kill you."

They were surprised.

"But how did you know, and how did you know about the others?" Napoleon asked him.

"Through our Brothers here on the island. You see, our monastery is riddled with hidden passages. Once they were locked up, one escaped and got word to us. The others roamed the passages trying to find out what was going on. Brother Michael was outside the office of Col. Johnson, when he mentioned the two men that looked like you. After you two left he 'introduced' Col. Quarters to her look-alike. You see, Col. Quarters is no longer afraid of spiders or of falling; but because of you subliminal conditioning, I believe it is Col. Johnson decided to put the Colonel through the third degree. But in case either or both of you survived, he needed someone to be placed in the situation of the Colonel's supposed fears to kill you when you attempted to rescue her."

"And you knew who we were because of our attempt to rescue her," Napoleon concluded.

"Exactly."

"You wouldn't happen to know where our Col. Quarters is, would you?" Illya asked him.

"I have some idea, yes. Our monastery has a secret wing that no one but us knew about. Unfortunately they discovered it and are using it. I believe that is where they have her."

"Well, give Illya and I a few minutes to take care of her, then take us to the Colonel."

-----

Within minutes Napoleon and Illya had the THRUSH impostor tied up and gagged, then left her in a place where it would be a while before any of her colleagues found her.

"Brother Angelo then took the men from U.N.C.L.E. through the various secret passages to the secret wing. The men found it very damp and must as if it had been closed for ages.

"She could be in any one of these rooms around here."

"You have no idea which one?" Napoleon asked.

"I'm afraid not Mr. Solo. This place is heavily guarded. We were fortunate to find out what we did."

Illya nodded in agreement. Then men then began walking up and down corridors opening doors and keeping an eye out for any stray THRUSHes.

"Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, I think I found her."

Napoleon and Illya instantly joined Brother Angelo.

"This door is locked and it shouldn't be."

"What's in it?" Illya asked.

"Not much. It's a prep room where brothers prepare themselves for various rituals."

"What do you think Illya?"

"Old lock; should be easy to pick. We don't want to leave out calling card in case we're wrong."

"Good idea."

Illya produced his lock pick set, studied the lock, then selected a pick. Within a few seconds he had it unlocked. The agents drew their guns and prepared themselves before they opened the door. But it was unnecessary. All that was in there was Col. Quarters lying face down on a cot, unconscious, with an arm hanging down to the floor, in a pool of blood.

Illya quickly ran over to her and checked her pulse. It was faint but he found one. He then struggled with her to get her blouse off so he could see what kind of shape she was in. Once he did, he was aghast at what he saw. Napoleon who had been standing in the background with Brother Angelo, watching for any signs of danger, now stepped forward for a closer look.

"What have they done to her?" Napoleon asked shocked.

"It looks like they beat her somehow," Illya replied unemotionally. "She's lost a lot of blood, but she's still alive. We need to get her to a hospital soon though or she won't be for long. But first we need to stop some of this bleeding somehow."

"We'll need to clean up some of this blood before we can do anything," Napoleon commented. "Brother Angelo, do you have anything in this wing that could be sued to clean up some of the blood as well as be used as bandages?"

"I will check. I'll return shortly," he said and promptly left.

"While he was gone, Illya sized up the situation, and then, before Brother Angelo returned, he somewhat hesitantly stripped her form the waist up so he could take care of her wounds properly. When Brother Angelo arrived with the required rages, Napoleon and Illya wiped up as much blood as they could and then wrapped her whole torso up as best as they could, in hopes of stopping most of the bleeding.

When they were done Illya thought she looked somewhat vulnerable without clothing on so he took off his jacked and put it on her.

"What happened to your arm?" Napoleon asked noting his makeshift bandage.

"Oh it's only a scratch; nothing real serious."

"You better have it looked at."

"I will as soon as Erika has been taken care of."

"All that is required is that we get her out of here and to our boat. Any ideas how?"

"I'll carry her."

"You'll carry her?" Napoleon asked somewhat surprised.

"I'll carry her," Illya repeated.

The only way he could carry her without it slowing them down was to carry her over his shoulder. He hated to do so, but he did so anyway. As soon as they reached their motor boat, they headed straight for Mikonos.

*****

As soon as they had arrived at the hospital, they promptly got the Colonel admitted into the Emergency Clinic, and were now sitting in the waiting room, waiting for some word from the doctors. On the boat ride over she had regained consciousness long enough to look up into Illya's blue eyes and give him a slight smile.

"You better get that arm looked at," Napoleon said breaking the tense silence.

"I will after I know Erika is all right."

Napoleon know it wasn't going to do Col. Quarters any good if Illya got an infected arm, but he didn't say anything. Finally a doctor came out and told them she was going to be all right.

"Her back is full of stitches though," he explained. "We're not sure what was used on her back, but the gashes weren't real deep and there wasn't any major damage, so she'll be fine."

"When can I see her?" Illya asked.

"She's in her room now, but she's asleep and will be for a little while longer. In the meantime, why don't you let me look at that arm.

"That's a good idea," Napoleon said before his partner could protest. "You go with the doctor and I'll go sit with Erika until you show up."

The pain in Illya's arm had finally begun to bother him, his eyes were beginning to looked glazed over and he was looking peeked, so with some cajoling from the doctor, Illya resigningly went with him.

While he was waiting for Illya Napoleon sat in the chair next to the bed and held Col. Quarters' hand. He thought she seemed pale, but then remembered she had lost quite a bit of blood. She was a feisty woman though, and would pull through this.

"She's lucky to be alive," said a voice. Napoleon looked up and noticed it was the doctor. He unconsciously stood up.

"How's Illya?"

"Oh he's going to be all right. It was only a scratch; a little more serious than he thought though, but still not very serious. He'll be along in a moment.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of your friend earlier, but she lost quite a bit of blood. It's amazing she pulled through."

"She's going to be okay though, isn't she?"

"Oh she's going to be fine," the doctor said reassuringly. "But she is going to need to stay in the hospital for a few days and get plenty of bed rest. We don't want any of those wounds to reopen."

"I understand, Doctor."

"Good. Well I better be going. I have other patients to attend to," he said and left.

As soon as he did, Illya entered the room; his arm was bandaged up in a sling and the color had returned to his face.

"How's the arm?" Napoleon asked.

"Numb," he replied. "The doctor used a local anesthetic for the pain and it helped tremendously, I can't feel a thing. How is she?"

"She's still asleep, but fine. The doctor said she's going to required a lot of bed rest to make sure her wounds don't reopen."

"We're going to have a heck of a time making sure of that. She's not going to like being laid up. Imagine us in her position."

"Well we're just going to have to make sure. Why don't you sit with her, while I check in with Mr. Waverly."

"Good idea. He's probably wondering what's happened to us."

Illya sat in the chair next to the bed and held Col. Quarters' hand with his right, while Napoleon took out his communicator and went off in a corner. While he was talking to Mr. Waverly, Col. Quarters started to wake up. She was a bit groggy at first, due to all the drugs that had been pumped into her, but with some sips of water that Illya gave her she was her usual feisty obnoxious self when Napoleon rejoined them.

"What do you mean you came back and got me? You should have just left without me. You could have gotten us all killed which would have accomplished nothing! It is better to have one fatality than three. Who would have stopped Leslie Groves if we had been eliminated?"

"What would you have wanted us to do? Leave without you?" Illya demanded.

"Exactly! You two, if you survived, were the only ones that had the knowledge to stop Leslie Groves. I was a goner anyway. Another hour or so and it wouldn't have mattered."

"It's nice you think so highly of yourself," Illya said sarcastically.

"Look Mr. Kuryakin," Col. Quarters said, very upset, "I am an agent above all else. If I am killed in the line of duty, so be it; it's no big deal. All that matters is that I did my best to stop the enemy forces in the world, and that any knowledge the enemy may have wanted, died with me."

"All right Col. Quarters," equally upset, "what would you have done if you were in our position?"

She started to say something, but then shut her mouth. She realized she would have done the exact same thing.

"I thought so!" Illya said and left.

Col. Quarters watched him leave then turned to Napoleon.

"I stuck my foot in that one didn't I?"

"Both feet and your legs," Napoleon said.

"Oh dear. I didn't mean to. It's just...."

"That you've fallen for Illya and you're trying not to let your emotions cloud your efficiency."

"How did you guess?"

"Illya's going through the same thing."

She heaved a sigh, not sure what to say, then continued with her original thought.

"It's just that Illya is the first person I've felt anything for and at the same time I'm trying to maintain my professionalism which isn't easy."

"If it'll make you feel any better, I'll go talk to him."

"Would you please?"

"Certainly," he said and moved to leave.

"Oh before you go, where is Brother Angelo and my clothes."

"Brother Angelo returned to the mainland as soon as we checked you in and your clothes, or your blouse anyway, was destroyed. Your jeans are in a safe place where you can't get them. You're staying in bed until the doctor says you can leave."

"That's not fair!" she protested.

"All's fair in love and espionage," Napoleon replied and left.

While Napoleon was away Col. Quarters lied in her bed and tried to figure out how to get out of the place. She had been in worse situations and found a way out: but then she didn't have Illya and Napoleon sitting on her to make sure she stayed put. She was still plotting when Illya returned. He stood there in the doorway, looking at her.

-He looks tired, she thought. It's due to his wound no doubt.

He started to walk towards the bed.

"Illya I want to apologize for behaving so badly. It was rude and inconsiderate of me."

He sat down in the chair next to her and put his fingers to her lips before she could say anymore.

"Don't worry about it, I understand. You were just being your normal self. I don't expect anything different from you."

"I just wish we didn't fight so much," Col. Quarters replied.

"It's because we're too much alike," Illya answered.

Before either could say anything more, the doctor came in.

"I heard my patient was awake so I thought I'd come in and check on her. How are you doing?"

"Not too bad. I still feel a bit groggy and my back is numb. But other than that, I feel fine. When can I leave?"

"When I say so. You lost quite a bit of blood and we want those gashes to heal well enough so they won't reopen. Tell me something, if you don't mind; just what did happen to you?"

"I was beaten with a whip with pieces of glass imbedded into it."

Illya was not quite as surprised as the doctor. Instances like these were professional hazards.

"Well, in a few days I will need to replace the stitches and after that it's just a matter of time."

"I see. Well thank you Doctor."

Col. Quarters decided to sit it out until the stitches were replaced then she was breaking out of the joint.

-----

Several days later, her stitches were replaced and she began working on a plan of escape, which wasn't going to be easy. Both Illya and Napoleon were taking turns keeping a constant watch on her. At one time she tried to escape through the bathroom and into the next room, but Napoleon was there watching.

"Going somewhere Colonel?" he had said and she resigningly returned to her room.

Then one evening her chance came. She awoke up in the night to find Illya asleep in his chair. She quietly and cautiously climbed out of bed. She tiptoed over to the closet and opened it up. The only thing inside were her jeans. She was surprised. She slipped them on and tucked her hospital gown into it, so it sort of looked like a shirt. She turned back to Illya and noted he was still asleep. She moved quietly to the door and opened it. The night nurse was away from her post attending to another patient. She slipped out into the hall. The floor was empty and quiet. Col. Quarters made a break for it. Once outside of the hospital, she resolved to get back to the monastery on the mainland to make further plans.

*****

Illya woke up some time later to find Col. Quarters gone. He went into the next room and woke Napoleon up.

"What gives?" Napoleon asked, annoyed at being woken.

"Erika has flow the coop. I must have fallen asleep and she snuck out then," the Russian confessed.

"Well we better get going. She couldn't have gotten too far. After all, how far can she go on an island?"

Napoleon and Illya spent all day looking for Col. Quarters but were unable to locate her. No one had seen her, or if they had, no one was talking. The next day the two decided to return to the monastery to see if the monks had heard or knew of anything. When they arrived, they found the Colonel in their room, drinking a cup of tea and reading over some notes; she still had on the hospital gown and jeans that she was wearing when she escaped.

Upon seeing her, Illya reprimanded her for leaving the hospital before she was released. For the most part, Napoleon remained quiet through his partner's tirade, adding an occasional statement her and there. Throughout the whole ordeal, the Colonel remained unusually calm, taking it in and letting Illya vent his angers. Finally he finished.

"Are you through?" she asked him when he had finished. When he didn't answer she took that as a yes and continued. "Good. Now why don't you two have a seat and listen to what I have to say. While you two have undoubtedly been looking for me on Mikonos, I have been here going over notes on this case and trying to come up with a plan."

"Have you?" Napoleon asked.

"Quite possibly. One of the things that I like best about this business is that there are no rules. Another is that an agent's best weapon is the mind, which I have been using all day yesterday and today. Here's what I've come up with: we are going to play a little visual deception against dear Col. Johnson."

"Just how do you plan to do that?" Illya asked somewhat bitterly since he was still upset with her.

"First we take the good Colonel from his island hideout and get him into a dark room where Prime Minister Sebastian Malchos will confront him; only it won't be Premier Malchos."

"Who will it be?" Napoleon asked, confused.

"Well that all depends on which one of you can sound most like the Premier."

"Erika, what are you talking about?" Illya asked, his anger replaced by confusion.

"I told you. We are going to play some visual deception on Col. Johnson. Depending on which one of you can sound most like the Prime Minister, you will be disguised as him. Then we will kidnap Col. Johnson and force a confession out of him, by having him think the Prime Minister is going to kill him for turning traitor to THRUSH."

"Erika we are not back in the 1930's; a sting operation is not going to work. We are talking about people who have little concern towards human life."

"I realize that Illya, but when an agent has a good imagination, no weapons are necessary; I like to utilize my imagination whenever possible because I don't like to hurt people, and so far I have a pretty good success rate."

"I think we should go with her on this one Illya. She did get us out of that hotel with her disguises."

"Yes, but we weren't confronting anybody then."

"Do you have a better idea Mr. Kuryakin?" she asked sourly.

Illya just stood there silent, looking at her.

"What's the matter Illya? Why are you being so cold?"

Illya threw a glance in Napoleon's direction.

"I think you two need to be alone, so if you'll excuse me."

Illya turned away from her, trying to figure out what he was going to say to her, then turned back.

"Do you really want to know what's wrong? I tell you; you're what's wrong. Erika, you give the word martyr a whole new meaning. We are not super-spies, we are not infallible, we have our faults. Why don't you just slow down and prove that you are human?"

"Illya, I can't slow down. You don't know what my life has been like since I've graduated from college."

He just looked at her.

"You don't understand, do you?"

"You're right, I don't understand, but I would very much like to, so why don't you help me?"

She ran her hand through her hair, frustrated.

"Do you have any idea what it is like to be scoffed at by your peers? It is not fun. Ever since college and even during college, I have had men mock me and women ridicule me. I was shunned for wanted to be a secret agent and to work for Interpol. No one took me seriously. I've had to work hard to achieve a position of respect and now I have to work hard to keep it. If I slow down to prove I'm human, I might loose all that I have worked for." She paused some before she continued. "And I'll never forget the only boyfriend I had in college, Drake was his name. He left me for some girl that he thought was more feminine, someone he could dominate."

"Erika, I think you are the one who doesn't understand. You are not going to loose anybody's respect by proving that you are human. If anything, people will have more respect for you rather than be intimidated by you."

Before she could respond, there was a knock at the door and then Napoleon poked his head in.

I hate to interrupt, but I just go a report that the Prime Minister is going to be making a public conference at the Parliament with a few hours."

"Great! That's perfect," the Colonel replied returning to her usual self. "So if we're going to go with this plan, be better got going."

Napoleon looked at Illya.

"Illya?"

"Let's go with it. Who know, it might even work."

"Good." She went off into the corner and dug out her make-up bag, then pulled a chair up into the middle of the room and set it down next to Illya.

"Sit," she said to him, then added, "please."

"What are you going to do?" he asked somewhat wary of what she had planned.

"You are going to the press conference to get pictures and a voice recording of the Prime Minister."

Illya sat down in the chair and she studied his features intently. While doing so, she addressed Napoleon.

"Napoleon, he's going to need a camera and a good tape recorder."

"I'll see what I can do," he told her then left.

"Good, now we can finish talking," Illya said.

"No, you are going to sit still and be quiet while I do this," she said firmly, as she dug out her olive skin coloring and began applying it to his face.

-----

Col. Quarters had just finished putting the final touches on Illya when Napoleon returned a half hour later. When Napoleon caught a glimpse of Illya he almost didn't recognize him. The Russian's skin coloring had been changed from fair to a very light olive, his hair coloring had changed from straw blonde to a very dirty blonde, his eyes had gone from watery blue to a coffee brown and he looked as though he hadn't shaved in days.

"What do you think?" she asked Napoleon when he walked in.

"Amazing. I almost didn't recognize him. Have you seen yourself Illya?"

"Not yet. She only just finished as you walked in, but I am curious to see what I look like if my own partner almost didn't recognize me."

"Hold on, I'll get you a mirror." She went over to her stuff, rummaged around a bit, then found a mirror and returned to Illya.

"Here you are," she said handing him the mirror.

Illya took the mirror from her and peered into it; he turned his head from side to side as he looked into it, then stared straight on.

"Amazing. You did a great job. What's next?"
"Napoleon?"

"A camera, developing fluids, and recording equipment is waiting for him at the local office. All he has to do is swing by there on him way over to the Parliament building where the conference is being held."

"Do you understand what you need to do?"

"I am to go to this conference and take as many close up pictures of the Prime Minister at various angles. At the same time, I am to get as clear a voice recording as possible."

Col. Quarters looked at her watch.

"Good. Now you better get going; you don't have much time left."

"I'll be going as soon as I change." He changed into his ever comfortable black garb, checked his gun, grabbed an extra clip and a few other things and left.

"You should rest," Napoleon told the Colonel as soon as Illya was gone. "There's nothing for you to do until Illya gets back and you look tired. It hasn't even been a week since you went into the hospital. You're still very weak."

"What is it with you two? Why does everyone treat me as if I'm some delicate female who is going to crumble at the slightest hint of trouble. I've been in this business as long as you have Mr. Solo and my position is an equivalent of yours. I know what I'm doing and I can take care of myself."

"I'm not suggesting you can't. I am only suggesting that you slow down and take it easy. Your wounds still have a bit of healing left to do and you don't want them to reopen."

"I'm fine, now if you'll excuse me I have some work to do."

She turned on her heels and headed towards her cot. Then suddenly she paused as a wave of dizziness swept over her and she nearly collapsed, but Napoleon caught her in time.

"Now will you listen to me?"

"Maybe I should rest awhile," she agreed and he helped her over to the cot.

"Now lie there and I'm going to go see if these monks have a radio we can listen to. I want to hear what the Prime Minister is going to say."

Col. Quarters nodded and Napoleon left her alone to rest.

-----

A short while later, Napoleon returned with a portable radio, to find Col. Quarters asleep. He debated whether or not he should wake her, then decided to let her sleep, figuring she'd wake up when he turned the radio on anyway.

He was right. As soon as he turned the radio on, Col. Quarters stirred and woke up.

"You were going to wake me, weren't you?"

"Of course," he lied then went over and sat next to here on the bed. "Did you sleep well?" he asked her>

"Yes, I guess I did. What time does the conference start?"

"Any moment now."

Soon the voice of the local news broadcaster came on followed by the voice of the Prime Minister. The speech which was in Greek (naturally) was brief and Col. Quarters was able to follow it fairly well. When the Prime Minister had finished, the Colonel looked very pale.

"I guess my Greek isn't as good as I thought," Napoleon said. "What did he just say?"

"He said that he and their equivalent of the Secret Service have just uncovered a plot to kill the President. He just implicated us."

Napoleon was speechless. He sat there stunned, not sure what he should say or do. Finally he took out his communicator and called the local office to check on the current status of the President.

"He is as safe as can be Mr. Solo," said the voice on the other end.

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

"All right then, there's one other thing you could do then. I want you to get his fingerprints and run them through the computer. I want to make sure we have the right guy. And move him to a safe house. We can't take any chances right now."

"Yes sir Mr. Solo."

Napoleon was just about to picket his communicator when it sounded.

"Solo here."

It was Mr. Waverly wanting to know what was going on and why there were being implicated in a plot to kill the President.

"I don't know sir. All I can think of is that we started to get to close to something and this is the only way they can think of to take care of us; all other attempts having failed.

"Do you have any plans to get out of this mess?"

"Yes sir, we are working on one right now."

"All right then, keep me informed of your progress," Mr. Waverly said, then the communicator went silent.

"Now what?" Napoleon asked.

"Now we wait for Illya to get back. Then the tow of you can start listening to the recording of the Prime Minister while I develop the film."

Sometime later Illya arrived, handed the recorder and film to the Colonel then left to go clean up. When he returned to the room again, Napoleon was listening to the recording and Col. Quarters had go off somewhere to develop the film and make prints. It was hours later before she returned to their room, photos and sketches in hand.

"How goes it?"

"Not very well," Illya replied. "The Premier's voice is much deeper and huskier than our range."

"What are we going to do now?" she asked trying not to sound discouraged.

"I don't know," Napoleon replied. "We could keep trying, but it doesn't look hopeful."

"Perhaps I could help," said a soft voice behind Col. Quarters; she whirled around, her muscles tensed. She sighed of relief when she saw who it was.

"Brother Angelo, you startled me."

"I'm sorry. I just came down to see if you could use any help."

She studied him a moment, then looked at the photos. His features were similar and his eyes and hair coloring matched.

-I wonder, she thought.

"Perhaps you could help. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to listen to this voice recording and then see if you can imitate it."

Brother Angelo listed to the tape for less than five minutes, then cleared his throat and gave a perfect imitation. The agents looked at him in amazement. Co.. Quarters studied him intently.

-There's something mysterious about him, she thought

"I'm not even going to ask how you managed that one, she said. "Now would you be willing to be made up to look like the Premier?"

"If it is a part of your plan, of course I wouldn't mind."

"What should we do?" Napoleon asked.

"We'll need a helicopter, a place to question Col. Johnson and a mind tamper drug; something to weaken his resistance to talk."

"We'll get right on it," Napoleon said and he and Illya left.

Col. Quarters spent several hours working on Brother Angelo. She had to age him twenty-five to thirty years as well as alter his features some to resemble Prime Minister Sebastian Malchos, and it was a tedious job.

*****

Some hours later Napoleon and Illya returned to check on Col. Quarters' progress; she had just finished.

"Well?" she asked.

"Amazing," Napoleon replied. "An exact likeness."

"Just how did you do that?" Illya asked.

"Trade secret," she replied. "Now about your end, how's it going?"

"Ready whenever you are."

"Okay then, we'll go after dark, that'll be best. The light will be poor so Col. Johnson will be unable to get a clear look at Brother Angelo. Illya you'll be flying the helicopter and I'll want to do a quick make-up job on you again. We have to be sure no one recognizes you. When we near the monastery, I will want you to fly low so Napoleon and I can get out."

"What are we going to do?"

"We will sneak into the monastery and eliminate any obstacles. Understand?"

Napoleon nodded.

"But how are we going to get the Colonel out?" he asked. "He can't see us when he's in the helicopter."

"We'll have to knock him out. Brother Angelo, do you think you can give me a mental blueprint of the secret passage?"

"No problem."

"All right then, lay it on me. Illya, please sit down and I'll do your make-up."

While Col. Quarters did a quick make-up job on Illya, she formed a mental blueprint of the monastery from Brother Angelo's meticulous description of the place. As soon as it was late enough, the four left the monastery to go to the waiting helicopter, then took off for the small island.

*****

The sun had been down form many hours when the group boarded their helicopter and took off for the small island. Illya circled the island several times before he found a spot to dump the Colonel and Napoleon.

"Give us ten minutes to reach Col. Johnson's office before you land. Brother Angelo, I want you to go straight to his office and confront him. Be vague for now. All you have to do at the moment is keep his back to the secret entrance."

"Will do, Col. Quarters"

Napoleon and Col. Quarters jumped out of the 'copter and took a quick look around for any THRUSH infantries. When they were fairly sure it was clear, they headed towards the monastery. There, while crouched behind a bush, they found guards posted outside the entrance. There were only two, one leaning against a tree smoking a cigarette, the other leaning on a n opposite tree dozing. Napoleon and the Colonel were about to make their move when someone walked out of the monastery. It was the guards' superiors checking up on them. He yelled at them a bit and the one smoking dropped his cigarette and crushed it out. Finally the superior went back inside.

Col. Quarters made some motioning gestures to Napoleon who nodded in agreement, then they separated to come up behind the guards and knock each of them out. They securely tied and gagged the guards up before they went inside. There they had to be careful, any unconscious bodies might attract some unnecessary attention.

They searched the monastery a bit before they located an entrance to the secret passages. After that it was just a matter of time before they located Col. Johnson's office.

Col. Quarters shone her flashlight on her watch and checked at the time.

"Brother Angelo should be along at any moment," she said.

"How will we know when he has Col. Johnson's back to us?"

"We won't. We will have to guess."

Within a minute they heard Brother Angelo enter the office and yell obscenities at Col. Johnson. Col. Quarters kept an eye on her watch while doing some mental calculations, trying to figure out how long it would be before Col. Johnson was maneuvered into position.

Finally she turned towards the wall.

"Now," she whispered.

The two quietly nudged the secret door open and peered into the room. Col. Johnson's back was to the wall. They pushed the door open a little farther, then Col. Quarters tiptoes into the room and host a hypodermic into the Colonel's neck. The man stiffened then collapsed into her waiting arms. Napoleon entered and gave her a hand.

"Good job Brother Angelo, You were great. Napoleon, give Brother Angelo a hand in getting Col. Johnson to the helicopter. Brother Angelo, I want you to take Col. Johnson back to your monastery and keep him as sedated as possible and keep him locked up somewhere. Once Illya has dropped you off, send him back here."

"Yes ma'am."

While Napoleon and Brother Angelo were loading Col. Johnson into the 'copter, Col. Quarters searched through the office for papers or anything else she could find. She was lucky enough to find the safe, hidden by books, in a bookshelf. She was in the process of cracking it when Napoleon walked in.

When he walked in, he was about to say something, but Col. Quarters instinctively put a hand up to silence him Instead he walked over to her to see what she was doing. He no sooner had, when Col. Quarters opened the safe and peered into it.

The safe was packed full of papers, all of which she took out and laid on the desk so she could study them. She took a quick glance at them all and realized what she was looking at.

"What is it?" Napoleon asked.

"It is the accumulation of plans to build the Premier's bomb."

"You wouldn't happen to know what kind of bomb would you?" Napoleon asked sounding hopeful.

"Not without further analysis. Here, give me a hand with these. We have to roll them up and stash them away somewhere until we can get out of here."

"I know this is going to be a stupid question, but what are we going to do until then?" he asked, dreading the answer.

"Locate the bomb and smuggle it out of her, of course."

"Of course," Napoleon said, his fears confirmed.

They stashed the plans behind some books on the bookshelf and then disappeared back into the secret passage. They combed the passages until they located the laboratory. They were about to enter when they heard movement on the other side of the door.

There's someone in there," Napoleon whispered.

"Do you have any gas bombs?" Col. Quarters asked.

"Yes, but I don't think I have a mask of any kind."

"Don't worry about it, I have an extra pair of nose filters."

While Napoleon fished around for a gas bomb, Col. Quarters searched for her nose filters. Col. Quarters presented her filters at the same time Napoleon produced his gas bomb. She handed a pair to Napoleon and they each inserted them. When they were ready, Napoleon pushed open the door, tossed the bomb in and quickly shut the door. There was a 'poof' followed by much coughing. When all the coughing subsided, they reopened the door and walked in, breathing very slowly to allow the filters to filter the gas.

On the table in the middle of the room was what they were looking for - the bomb. They tiptoed around the unconscious bodies and slowly approached it. They stood in awe and wonder at the object that lied before them. Then Col. Quarters recollected herself and glanced at her watch.

"You better go watch for Illya. He should be along in a moment, and we are going to need all the help we can get. And on your way out, grab the papers we stashed."

"Yes ma'am," Napoleon replied, not knowing what else to say.

Col. Quarters didn't notice, however. She was too busy taking in the piece of machinery, if you could call it that, that was lying on the table before her eyes. She studied it, trying to figure out what type of bomb it was, but couldn't. Finally she inspected it to see how far along it was. The only thing that seemed to be left to add was the detonator. She looked around the room for anything that looked like it could be the detonator, or the plan to one. Finding neither, she decided the best thing to do was to get much of what was in the room loaded into the helicopter, then get the heck out of there. They had been in the monastery too long. Soon someone was bound to notice something was amiss, and she wanted to be long gone when that happened.

She started taking various tools and papers off the shelves and desks and placed them around the bomb. Then she scurried around the room for a box, but couldn't find one. Instead she found two garbage cans, one empty and one half full.

-You can always tell a lot about a person by their garbage, she mused and began loading the stuff into them. She was set to go when Napoleon returned with Illya and the papers.

"What's with the garbage cans?" Illya asked.

"The best way to tell something about a person is by their garbage. Now you two take the bomb and I'll follow. And be careful; I don't know what kind of bomb it is or how it is designed, but the slightest impact could set it off."

"Don't worry, we want to see our next Christmas," Napoleon replied, dumping the papers into one of the cans.

They moved out slowly and cautiously, hoping they wouldn't get caught by a stray guard. All of them had their hands full and non of them would be able to draw their gun in defense. Fortunately, luck was on their side and they got off the island without a hitch.

*****

Col. Quarters was now standing in a dimly lit room with a sedated Col. Johnson, contemplating their next move; Napoleon had received word on their way back that U.N.C.L.E. was indeed holding the real President and that he had safely been moved. At the present, Napoleon and Illya were taking care of the bomb. She was waiting for their return as well as Brother Angelo's, who was off doing one of his monk-ly duties. Soon all three appeared.

"Well," she asked them.

"Bomb's all taken care of," Napoleon replied. "Safe at the local office."

"Did you instruct them not to touch it until I've had a change to study the plans; if it is possible to wait, that is."

"Yes we did," Illya answered.

"What about him?" Napoleon asked, nodding towards Col. Johnson, who was still unconscious and strapped in the chair.

"I've been waiting for the three of you to return. Do you have the tape recorder?"

Brother Angelo quietly handed it to her.

"Are you ready then?" she asked him

"Of course," he replied

"Of course," she mumbled softly to herself, then said aloud, "All right then, I'm going to shoot this hypodermic into his arm. It's filled with a drug that will revive him some, but he'll still be very groggy and his resistance will be weak. Just play up to his fear of dying an unknown death or being killed by someone's bare hands, and he should answer all our questions, or actually defend himself against all accusations."

She walked over to the Colonel and injected the hypodermic in his arm, then went off and stood in the shadows, along with Illya and Napoleon. The only light in the room was being centered on Col. Johnson.

Within five minutes, Col. Johnson came to, but was a bit groggy. He looked around the room, noting his condition, then focused his eyes on Brother Angelo, a.k.a. the Prime Minister.

Col. Quarters started the tape recorder.

"Where am I and what am I doing here?"

"You're at THRUSH Central," Brother Angelo replied sounding very much like the Prime Minister.

-How did he know about THRUSH Central? Col. Quarters wondered

"THRUSH Central? Why? What for?

"You turn traitor and you have the audacity to ask what you are doing here? I ought to kill you here and now, but that will come later; I have my orders."

"Traitor? What are you talking about? I'm not traitor!"

"I admit you were very good," Brother Angelo continued, "you had us all thinking you were working for THRUSH against Interpol, when you were really working for Interpol against THRUSH!"

"NO! Wait a minute! You have it all wrong! I-"

"Silence!!"

"He's good," Illya whispered to Col. Quarters.

She nodded in agreement. Too good, she thought.

"To think I was such a fool! Trusting you the way I did. How much have you told them?"

"Nothing! I swear!"

Col. Johnson started breaking out into a cold sweat from fear.

"Answer me or I'll kill you with my bare hands! What have you told them about me?"

"Nothing!" he repeated emphatically.

"They have no knowledge of my doings here in Greece? How I became Prime Minister?"

"No! they have no idea that you reached your position by killing the previous Premier. They still believe he died of natural causes."

"What about my family?"

"Sir, that was years ago!" Col. Johnson replied sounding surprised at the question.

-What is he talking about, Col. Quarters wondered.

"Answer me!"

"No one knows about the whore who mothered your son; that you had her killed to keep her quiet or that the son exists, if he is even alive."

The three agents were surprised and wondered how he know about it.

"Napoleon," Col. Quarters whispered, "call U.N.C.L.E. HQ and have them run a thorough background check on Brother Angel. I want to know all about him; there's something strange about him. Also, talk to Father Georgios, see if he'll tell you anything."

"Will do," he replied and left.

"What about your plans? What have you told them about 'em?" Brother Angelo continued.

"Nothing! I swear!"

"Then how did they find out about the President?"

"I don't know! Look, I have told them nothing about your plans to assassinate the President and form a dictatorship; about your plans to hold the world in international blackmail with your fusion bomb; NOTHING! I have told them absolutely nothing!"

"Liar!"

"You think I am lying? Why would I lie?"

"To save your own skin."

Col. Johnson was silent.

"Do you know what we do with traitors? We are kinder to U.N.C.L.E. agents than to our own who work against us."

"Prime Minister, I swear!"

"Don't call me Prime Minister! You don't deserve such honor!"

"All right, Leslie Groves; sir, whatever, please believe me!"

"All right Brother Angelo, he's had enough," Col. Quarters said and stepped into the light. When Col. Johnson saw her, his fear turned to anger.

"YOU!"

"Yes, me," she replied, very proud.

"You engineered this whole thing? I should have known, you were always good with disguises. But you realize you'll never get away with this."

"Now there you are wrong. I have gotten away with this and I will even get away with taking care of Prime Minister Sebastian Malchos."

"You'll never be able to bring him down. He's to cunning. He's better than you."

"We'll see. Illya, you wanna come take care of this cretin?"

Illya now came forward, hypodermic in hand.

"And Colonel, " Col. Quarters added, "if you are contemplating suicide again. I suggest something other than cyanide. We are not going to fall for that one again."

He glared at her, then winced as Illya jabbed him with the needle. The Colonel was soon unconscious again and with the help of some monks, Illya loaded him back into the helicopter and flew him to the Athens office.

As soon as he left, Col. Quarters located Napoleon.

"What did you come up with?" she asked him.

"The U.N.C.L.E. office wasn't able to come up with much on him except that he is a monk."

"What about Father Georgios?"

"I drew a blank there too. All the Father would tell me is that Brother Angelo is an orphan and has been with them since hi was a young boy."
Col. Quarters pondered it all a moment.

"Tell me Erika, why this sudden urge to know about Brother Angelo?"

"Doesn't it seem odd to you that he knew about the Prime Minister's secret affair when no one else did?"

"Yes, I suppose so," he replied, then realized what she was getting at. "You don't suppose..?"

"Yes, I do," she said. "I think we have discovered Prime Minister Malchos' illegitimate son."

*****

Col. Quarters walked into Father Georgios' study without really bothering to knock.

"Father Georgios, forgive me for barging in the way I did, but I really need to talk to you."

"Of course, by all means. Please sit down."

Col. Quarters seated herself in the chair in front of Father Georgios' desk. She was not sure what she was going to say to the old monk, it was the first time in her life that she found herself at a loss for words.

"Now what can I do for you?"

"I need to talk to you about Brother Angelo."

"Well isn't he the popular one tonight. Mr. Solo was here just a short while ago asking questions about him."

"Yes, I know. It was at my request that he do so."

"Well then, I'm sure I can anticipate your questions," he said his friendliness changing to almost a tone of resentment. "And I'm sure you know what my answers will be."

"He's the Prime Minister's son isn't he?" Col. Quarters asked, coming right out with it.

Father Georgios turned almost ashen.

"Who told you such a thing?!"

"Tonight when Brother Angelo was questioning Col. Johnson, he asked the Colonel about the Prime Minister's family, specifically the courtesan and the son. The U.N.C.L.E. files made no such mention of these. How else could he have known?"

Father Georgios didn't answer, instead he looked down at his hands which were folded on top of his desk; he didn't know what to say.

"It's true, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," said a soft voice behind her. Col. Quarters turned and then got up out of her chair when she saw Brother Angelo standing in the doorway. Father Georgios also stood up."

"It is true," Brother Angelo repeated.

"I think I should leave you two alone to talk," Father Georgios said and then left.

Brother Angelo walked into the study and shut the door. Neither of them know what to say. Col. Quarters spoke first.

"You had ulterior motives for wanting us to help you and your Brothers, didn't you?"

"Yes I did. I want my father destroyed. I know that's not the kind of attitude I should have, but I can't help it. After I was born, he sent me and my mother away and provided for us, but that wasn't enough for my mother. She wanted me to live in a normal family with a mother and a father, so she blackmailed him. She told him if he didn't claim me as his son and her as the mother, she'd expose it all to the press. Because of his political aspirations, he wouldn't comply, so he had her killed. Before she was murdered she left me with these monks, so that my life might be spared. I was four when all this happened."

"How did you find out about all of this?" Col. Quarters asked coolly.

"My mother wrote me a letter before she died and gave it to Father Stefanos , asking him to give it to me when I was old enough."

"How did your mother and the Prime Minister meet?"

"It was during the time when he was a public defender and she was a courtesan. There was some trial and he was her attorney for the case."

"I see."

"And now once again his ambitions are going to destroy my family. For most of my life, this brotherhood has been my family and he has nearly destroyed it by kicking us out of our monastery and nearly ruining our livelihood. I won't let him succeed and I won't let him succeed in his plans either."

"Don't worry, he won't. Everything is under control."

"You have a plan then?"

"Not yet, but I'm working on one. And I will let you know as soon as all the details have been worked out."

"Let me know if there is anything I can do to help."

"I will. And don't worry. Your father will be stopped."

*****

Col. Quarters and Napoleon sat around in their room trying to figure out their next move.

"What's next?" Napoleon asked.

"We need to get some proof that Premier Malchos was assassinated by his successor."

"But how?"

"I'm not really sure."

They sat in silence for some minutes before it was suddenly broken by Illya's arrival.

"How'd everything go?" Col. Quarters asked. "Any problems?"

"None at all. Everything went just smoothly. After I brought him in, I had him stripped searched while he was still unconscious. Then I had them give him a uniform that was worse for wear."

"Well at least he's been taken care of. Now if we can just take care of Malchos, then we can rap things up."

"While at U.N.C.L.E. I did some investigating on Giles Erasmus, Malchos' predecessor. He supposedly died of a heart attack a year after being appointed to office. Nothing real unusual in his background. No speculation when he died."

"Are you trying to get at something?" Col. Quarters asked, failing to see his point.

"Yes, I am. Since your plan went off without a hitch with Johnson, I thought perhaps it might be possible to try it again."

"Any suggestions as to how? I have no idea what Giles Erasmus looked like."

"I've taken care of that," he replied and pulled out a manila envelope from inside his jacket and handed it to the Colonel.

She took out a picture and looked at it, then at Illya, then the picture again before she handed it to Napoleon.

"What do you think?" she asked.

Napoleon studied both the picture and Illya, then handed it back to the Colonel.

"It's possible. It just might work."

Illya looked at them suspiciously, then took the picture from Col. Quarters and looked at it. He then went over to the bed and picked up the mirror that was lying on it and peered into it.

"No. You're not thinking of…are you?"

"It is a possibility", the Colonel replied. "The features are similar enough and he was still a blonde when he died."

"The biggest factor in my favor I suppose."

"Exactly."

"I should have known better when I saw the picture," Illya said good naturedly, then became serious. "Our next move should then be to get close to Malchos somehow."

"Then what?" Napoleon asked.

"Drug him." the Colonel replied flatly.

"Isn't he having some sort of party on his estate tomorrow night?" Napoleon asked.

"I believe so," the Colonel replied. "A get together of high ranking officials. Someone could go there and slip him the drug we gave Johnson."

"But how do we get to him?" He knows us by sight," Illya reminded them.

"Yes, but he doesn't know Brother Angelo," the Colonel replied, then told Illya about her discussion with the young monk.

"So he is Malchos' illegitimate son?" Illya asked almost incredulously.

"Yes, he is and he wants to help us stop his father."

"Our first move should be to come up with a plan to get Brother Angelo on the inside," Napoleon explained then added "an how we are going to get on the inside as well."

"That shouldn't be too hard. We'll just say he is the aide to the Greek Ambassador to the U.S." the Colonel suggested. "But we will need to find out if it's by invitation only. If so, we'll need to get our hands on one."

"All this can wait until morning thought," Illya said looking at his watch. "In the meantime, we should get some rest; sleep is an asset. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

"Good idea," Col. Quarters and Napoleon agreed.

The three go ready for bed, then turned in for the night.

*****

The next day they were up early and spent the entire day at U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters working on getting Brother Angelo an invitation to the Prime Minister's evening event as well as studying the floor plan and security system of the mansion. By the end of the day, they had the necessary invitation and the name of the caterer catering the event - the only sure way into the place. Before they left headquarters they contacted the caterer who agreed to cooperate with the agents in any way required.

Back at the monastery the three agents began to prepare for their escapade Napoleon prepared and checked their equipment while Col. Quarters began her artistry on Illya. It was difficult, altering his features, but once that was done, the rest went smoothly. By the time she had finished, she had definitely transformed Illya into the deceased Prime Minister Giles Erasmus.

"Amazing," Napoleon told Col. Quarters. "You are really amazing. Your own mother wouldn't recognize you Illya."

"Nor my father," Illya replied looking at his reflection in the mirror. "This stuff itches, you know that," he added making faces into the mirror.

"Well whatever you do, don't scratch it. The last thing you need is a flaw in your disguise."

"All that's left now is that we change," Napoleon said handing Col. Quarters her uniform.

"This is demeaning!" she said.

"What is?" Illya asked.

"This," she said holding up the uniform. "You guys get to wear tuxedoes and I have to look like a maid. Me! Who never wears anything buy designer originals."

"A little humility will do you some good," Illya told her.

"Says you!" she retorted.

The three changed without any further discussion.

-----

Before they left, a car and driver came to take Brother Angelo, who looked very handsome in his tuxedo, to the party. The three agents followed in their car. When the three arrived they drove around to the back to join the caterer.

Col. Quarters and Napoleon were given their respective duties while Illya was instructed to stay in the kitchen until the appropriate moment.

"And above all," the Colonel warned Napoleon, "avoid Malchos at all costs."

"That is one warning I don't need," Napoleon said agreeingly.

"Then let's move on out," Col. Quarters said picking up her tray of hors d'oeuvres and then took another look down at her uniform. "This is disgusting," she mumbled as she walked out the kitchen door. Napoleon and Illya snickered as Napoleon picked up his tray of champagne and followed.

The two mingled through the crowd as instructed offering champagne and hors d'oeuvres to the guests, going back to the kitchen for new trays when necessary.

After several tray refills, Col. Quarters spotted Brother Angelo. He spotted her at about the same time.

"Anything yet?" she asked him.

"I'm afraid not," he replied. "No one has seen him yet and his guests are beginning to wonder.

While they were talking, Napoleon joined them.

"Some champagne sir?" Napoleon asked.

"Yes, thank you," Brother Angelo replied.

"What's happening?" Napoleon asked in a whisper.

"No one's seen the Prime Minister," Brother Angel explained.

"You don't supposed he knows what we're up to do you?"

"I don't see how he could," Napoleon replied.

"I'm sorry sir," Col. Quarters said, no longer in a whisper. "But I haven't seen the Prime Minister."

"Well thank you anyway," Brother Angelo said and then the three when in separate directions.

Sometime later, Napoleon and Col. Quarters were talking while Illya, trying not to scratch his face, munched on the hors d'oeuvres, and listened intently.

"What are we going to do?" the Colonel asked. "We can't wait around here all evening and Illya can't be in the kitchen the whole time. Especially with all that make-up on. It's bound to be bothering him. Something must be wrong. I say we abort and re-plan."

"Why don't we give it a little longer. The Prime Minister ought to be making his appearance any time now," Napoleon said.

"What if he doesn't?"

"We'll never know unless we wait," Illya said in his soft demure manner. "You're getting uptight Erika; just relax. We've planned this operation to the tee. Nothing will go wrong. Just give him a little more time. Politicians and diplomats always arrive late to parties."

"But their own?" And two and a half hours? Something must have gone wrong. He must have found out, somehow," she said sounding frantic and furious at the same time.

"How?" Illya asked.

"I don't know, but it's the only logical explanation."

Illya set down his glass of champagne and walked over behind her and rubbed her neck. She was very tense.

"Erika, you've got to relax. You're getting all wound up over nothing and you're not thinking rationally."

She closed her eyes and took some deep breathes while Illya rubbed her neck.

"You're right. I guess I'm just anxious for this case to be over. The end is so close yet so far."

"Just take it a step at a time," Napoleon said. "It'll all work out in the end."

Illya took a glass of champagne from Napoleon's tray and offered it to her.

"Here, drink this. It's not Smirnoff's but it'll do."

She looked at the glass before taking it, then downed it as if it were water.

"Better?" Napoleon asked.

"Much, thank you. Well Napoleon, I guess it's time we get back out there and serve the guests. Sebastian is bound to show up any time now."

"That's it, just hang in there," Napoleon told here as they walked out of the kitchen.

The tow mingled through the crowd graciously offering hors d'oeuvres and champagne. As they did so they listed in on the guests inquisitive questions to each other as to where the Prime Minister was and what was keeping him.

Finally someone spotted him coming down the stairs and yelled out.

"There he is."

For some reason, the guests started applauding, but Sebastian Malchos quickly quieted them down.

"Please, there is no need for that. I do hope you will accept my most humble apologies for being so late, but I was attending to some state business and I couldn't get away earlier. Now please go back to enjoying yourselves."

Some of the guests returned to their conversations with each other and others swarmed the Premier hoping to speak to him. Col. Quarters signaled to Brother Angelo and Napoleon that it was a go. Napoleon snagged on of the other champagne servers and asked him to offer the Premier champagne when Brother Angelo was speaking to him. Napoleon and the Colonel disappeared into the shadows to observe the following transgressions transpire. Brother Angelo managed to get through to the Premier and talk to him. While he was doing so, the young server did as instructed. Brother Angelo took two glasses, one for the Premier and one for himself. As he handed the Prime Minister his glass he doctored it like an expert. It was amazing.

As soon as the Prime Minister took the glass offered to him, Napoleon disappeared into the kitchen to tell Illya. Col. Quarters stayed in the shadows while she watched the Premier drink the champagne and remained where she was until she saw him head back upstairs.

When she saw him leave, she quickly disposed of her tray in the kitchen, then hurried upstairs. Napoleon was waiting for her in the room across from the Premier's.

"Is everything set?" she asked in a low whisper when she entered.

"Illya is in the closet right now. We'll be able to hear everything that goes on in the room through the bug concealed on his lapel. And everything is set to be recorded."

"Good," Col. Quarters replied, pleased.

"He's lying down now," came Illya's voice. I will wait a few more moments to allow the drug to take effect."

Recalling the events that occurred the last time they visited the Prime Minister's place, Col. Quarters became slightly agitated as they waited for Illya to leave the closet. She didn't want them to get caught at this stage. Not after having come so far.

Finally Illya's voice came back.

"I'm going in now. Start the recorder."

Napoleon did as told and started the recorder.

There was silence for some seconds before anything happened, but to Col. Quarters, it seemed like eternity.

"There you lie, a man who believes he can rule the world, sleeping off a drunken stupor," Illya said hoarsely, sounding disgusted.

Sebastian Malchos bolted up suddenly at the sound of his voice. He tired to get his eyes to focus on Illya's figure, but was unable to do so.

"Who are you and how did you get in here?" he demanded.

"I'm shocked Sebastian. You mean you don't recognize me?" Illya taunted.

Sebastian tried to focus his eyes again, but the drug that Brother Angelo had slipped into his drink prevented him from doing so, and kept his mind equally fogged.

"Should I know you?"

"You should. You were the one that ordered my death so you could take over my position. 'Make it look like a heart attack' you told them. You wanted to make sure you didn't get your hands dirty so you got subordinates to do your dirty work, and in a manner so that no suspicion was pointed directly at you. Very well planned; your diary has made very interesting reading. The only think you didn't plan on was me surviving the whole thing."

"What are you talking about? Giles is dead! I was at his funeral!"

"Very realistic make-up job wasn't it? We hired a professional to do the job. We had to make it look like you succeeded with your plan. It was only a few weeks ago that we found your diary. Rule the world, I'm sure. A man who sleeps with whores and then kills them and their innocent children. You don't deserve to live!"

"How did you find out about that?" Sebastian asked. His face was ashen and he was breaking out in a cold sweat. "And who are you?!?"

"It's all in your diary, Sebastian. Every single detail."

"That's a lie. You don't have my diary. It's still in my personal library. And even if you did have it, it wouldn't do you any good. All you'd find is a book on Greek history. You'd need a special chemical to make the ink visible."

The drug had worked. It had made his mind weak enough so that he gave out the information willingly without thinking.

"Greek history?" Illya queried. He knew he was pushing it, but he had to find out.

"Yes. 'Greek History: An Annotative Perspective' by Cecil Pappadapolus."

He did it! He gave out the wanted information without thinking about what he was saying.

Napoleon left the room to head for the library to find the book. Col. Quarters remained where she was.

"Who are you?" he asked again, his mind rejecting the possibility that the man he had ordered to be killed was alive.

"Giles Erasmus, old man. The man whose death sentence you ordered."

"NO!" he yelled. "You're dead! And you'll remain dead if I have to kill you again myself!" he exclaimed lunging off the bead for Illya's throat. Illya sidestepped him and as the Prime Minister went stumbling past, Illya gave him a karate blow to the neck. The Premier fell to the floor flat on his face.

"Leave the recording equipment," Illya said into his mike. "just take the tape and let's get out of here!"

Col. Quarters grabbed the tape out of the machine and ran out into the hall meeting Illya coming out of the other room.

"Let's get out of here!" he said grabbing her hand. "The ruckus that the Premier created could attract some body guards or something."

"Napoleon went to look for the book," she explained as they ran through the house. "He's going to tell Angelo what's up and then meet us at the car."

Behind them they began to hear some yelling. The Premier had been found in his collapsed state with only a faint pulse, and now the guards were starting a search of the upstairs levels.

"Quick, in here," Illya said and they ducked into another bedroom. Col. Quarters ran to the window while Illya shoved a dresser in front of the door.

"We can get out here," she said. "There's a trellis that we can climb down"

"Will it support us?" Illya asked coming over to her.

"I don't know, but we don't have much choice."

"I'll go first so I can catch you in case you fall."

"Who's going to catch you if you fall?" the Colonel asked.

"Let's not think about that," Illya said gloomily as he climbed out the window and started down the trellis.

The trellis creaked and moaned with the stress that Illya's weight applied to it. As Illya was making his way down, there was yelling outside the door and then someone tried to get in. When they failed there was more yelling.

"Hurry Illya, they've found us!" she yelled to him.

"I'm going as fast as I can," he yelled back; he was only half way down.

There was pounding at the door, they were trying to force their way in. Col. Quarters moved to grab her gun, then realized she didn't have it.

"Stupid uniform," she mumbled.

"Okay!" Illya shouted up.

Col. Quarters turned back towards the window then climbed out. Her palms were sweating and she had a hard time holding on. When she was half way down, the trellis made a jerk away from the house that almost caused her to loose her grip.

"You okay?" Illya asked.

"Fine," she replied and continued down. She was three quarters of the way down when she heard a crash in the room.

"I'm jumping!" she said as she took a quick glance and then jumped away from the trellis into Illya's arms.

"Good jump," he said to her. "Now let's get away from here!"

He took her hand and they ran across the lawn towards the driveway to Napoleon in the waiting car. More guards appeared from the house on ground level and went running after them. The ones up above in the window began shooting at them.

When they were out of range of their guns, the guards on the ground behind them began firing. The agents were so close, yet so far; and Napoleon was waiting in the car anxiously wondering what was taking so long.

Soon they reached the driveway and spotted the car. Napoleon spotted them at the same moment and started the car as Brother Angelo, who was in the passenger seat, opened the back door. Just as the two reached the car and were diving in, Col. Quarters felt a slight sting in her left shoulder, but didn't think anything of it. Illya dove in next to her and Napoleon sped off as Illya pulled the door shut.

"Erika, are you okay?" Illya asked, sounding concerned. "You look pale."

"I'm fine…" she said, then felt a trickle go down her arm. She looked down at her arm. Blood was running down, staining her clothes and the upholstery.

"I've been shot," she said matter-of-factly.

"Napoleon, head for the closest hospital! Erika's been shot!"

"Where?"

"Left shoulder; she's bleeding fast."

"Angelo, is there a hospital near here?"

"Yes," he replied coolly and gave Napoleon directions where Illya tried to the Colonel's wound.

"Take your uniform off," he told her.

"What?"

"Do it!" he commanded.

She looked at him surprised at his tone of voice and pulled off her uniform. He grabbed it away from her and began shredding it up to use for bandages. He began rapping her up as she began to lose consciousness. She was rushed into Emergency immediately upon their arrival at the hospital. Six hours later, she was moved into ICU. While she was in surgery, Napoleon and Brother Angelo returned to the U.N.C.L.E. office with the book and a bottle of ink Napoleon had also found, to have the lab boys analyze them. They returned a few hours later to wait with Illya and were there when a doctor came out with the news.

"I have good new and bad news gentlemen," he said.

"Give us the good new first," Napoleon replied.

"The good news is that the operation was a success and she will live."

"And the bad news?" Illya asked.

"A major artery was nicked which caused all of the bleeding. As a result she lost a lot of blood."

"That can't be all of it," Illya said. "There must be more."

"She slipped into a coma while we were operating on her."

The color drained form Illya's face and he slumped back into the chair he had been sitting in. Napoleon turned to him, put his had on his friend's shoulder and tried to give his Russian partner a reassuring look.

"How long will she be in this condition?" Brother Angelo asked.

"It's hard to tel; days, weeks, months. There's really no way of knowing."

"Can I see her?"

"Not now I'm afraid. We have her in ICU and are monitoring her very carefully. We'll be moving her later on, probably tomorrow, to a private room. You can see her then, for as long as you want. If we have someone talking to her, as often as possible, perhaps she will come out of it that much faster. The best thing you can do right now is get some rest."

"Thank you Doctor," Napoleon replied.

"One more thing. Do you have a number that I can use to contact you in the event of a change in her condition."

"Yes, of course." Napoleon replied, gave him the number of their hotel and then said good-night to the doctor.

"Come on Illya, the Doctor is right. We'll see her later on. Let's go get some rest, then rap this case up for her."

"All right," he replied, somberly.

The three men returned to the monastery to get a few hours of sleep before going back to the U.N.C.L.E. office. When they arrive at the office, they were notified that the lab boys had come up with the chemical that made the invisible ink visible and had applied it to the diary. All the information on Greek history disappeared and was replaced with the Prime Minister's handwriting. They quickly glanced through the book, making sure it contained what they wanted, then sent a task force over the Prime Minister's mansion to arrest him before he could go into hiding.

A couple of days later they had managed to round up all of the Prime Minister's subordinates and released the President from the safe house. Almost immediately following that, a new Prime Minister was appointed. All that remained now was to get Col. Quarters out of her coma.

Illya would sit with her for hours on end, talking to her about the information in the diary and other things they discovered. Only once in a great while was Napoleon able to get Illya to grab a bite to eat or catch a few winks of sleep.

Two weeks after the Colonel was shot, Illya was sitting with her and Napoleon was off talking to the Colonel's superior, Gen. Jacobs. To the average observer, Illya looked as though he was on the verge of tears, but would have hastily denied it, had anyone said anything about it. It was in this state, when he was sure no one was around, that he said these words:

"Erika, I love you. Please wake up."

Nothing happened. Then suddenly her eyes fluttered and she opened them.

"I love you too Illya," she replied hoarsely.

Illya was so elated that he gave her a kiss fully on the mouth before calling a nurse, doctor and Napoleon.

After the nurse and doctor checked her out and left, Napoleon brought her up to date on matters.

"And the monks have returned to their island monastery, quite happy and content, and Brother Angelo along with them. Although, he is considering taking a job with U.N.C.L.E." Napoleon concluded. "And I've talked to Gen. Jacobs."

"What did he have to say?" she asked.

"If you take an ordered vacation, you will have a promotion waiting for you when you return for a job well done."

"Are you serious?" she asked very surprised.

"Yes, I am. But only after you take a long vacation. The doctor said you could be released tomorrow and we expect you to take that vacation effective immediately."

"Oh, I will!" she said. "I don't need any convincing there. I have never been this wounded on an assignment before."

"Well I think I will leave you two alone while I go talk to Mr. Waverly."

"Where are you going on your vacation?" Illya asked.

"Hawaii. I plan to retire there someday.," she answered, then asked, "Did you mean what you said?"

"I did."

"Then I would like it if you would join me."

"I think that can be arranged," he said with a smirk.

-----

The next day, the Colonel was scheduled to be released from the hospital. It had been planned that Illya would pick her up and then the two would continue to the airport to take their Hawaiian vacation. But Illya arrived early with a present for the Colonel.

"Illya, you're early," the Colonel said when Illya walked in.

"I realize that," he replied, "but I had something I wanted to give you before we left for the airport."

"Oh? What is it?"

He handed her a box with a ribbon around it. "This."

She took it from him and opened it without a word. She folded back the tissue paper and there, lying in the box, was one of the pictures Illya had bought after their excursion on the Tahoe Queen; he had kept the second one for himself.

"It's the picture that was taken as we were boarding the Tahoe Queen. After we docked, I wandered off to go buy the pictures."

"Pictures?"

"I have the other. It'll be a nice addition to my apartment. I wanted you to have this one. No matter what happens to us in the future, I wanted you to remember the learning experience you had on this assignment."

"Thank you for the picture Illya, and I'll never forget the teacher who taught me those learning experiences; how an agent can do their job successfully and be human too," she replied and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

After she was released the two headed for the airport and on to Hawaii.

While on the tropical island, they were able to talk and sort things out. They concluded that they were too much alike to ever work together. Napoleon and Illya were so opposite, that they balanced each other out professionally, but the same could not be said for Illya and Col. Quarters. Their ideas would frequently clash and neither was willing to give up their job for the other. At the end of their vacation, they said their good-byes, and parted; Illya returning to New York and Col. Quarters to D.C.

*****

About twelve months after accepting her promotion to the retired Gen. Jacobs former position, Gen. Quarters was sent to Turkey on assignment. There was rumor of an impending Communist take-over in the country and Gen. Quarters was sent to see if she could prevent it. After passing on the information to her colleagues, Gen. Quarters was killed when a grenade was launched into her car and exploded. The information she ahd passed on however, was able to quell the impending take-over.

Illya, who hadn't seen her since Hawaii, took the news very well and was pleased that she had not died in vain.

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1.

See U.N.C.L.E. #4 - The Dagger Affair

2.

⁺ See U.N.C.L.E. #12 - The Mind Twister's Affair