Alexander Waverly, Napoleon Solo, and Illya Kuryakin all stood to greet the visitor who was being shown into Waverly's office. Selig Mueller was a member of U.N.C.L.E.'s Berlin Research and Development team, and had been invited to New York to collaborate on a new project.
"It is an honour to finally meet you," he said, as he shook hands with Mr Waverly. "And this must be the famous duo of Solo and Kuryakin."
Napoleon offered him a warm greeting and accepted the proffered hand, but Illya snubbed the gesture and actually took a step back.
"Are you okay?" Solo whispered to him.
Kuryakin couldn't answer. Memories from a long time ago had resurfaced and he was almost paralyzed with rage and fear. He remembered the man in front of him. Illya had never known his name but he recalled his voice with crystal clarity. As for Mueller's face, the intervening years had done nothing to disguise the one Illya had etched on his memory. Without any warning, he drew his weapon and advanced on the visitor. Mueller scrambled backwards until his back hit the wall. Illya held the gun against the man's head.
"What on Earth do you think you are doing, Mr Kuryakin!?" Waverly almost yelled.
Maintaining eye contact with the German, Illya replied in a voice dripping with ice.
"This is the man who murdered my mother. I didn't see who killed my grandmother or my sisters, but I saw what this man did to Mama."
"Illya, that was a long time ago," Napoleon stated, calmly and quietly. "You were very young."
"Would you forget?" the Russian snapped. "Could you forget the man who raped your mother before kicking her to death?"
"You are mistaken," Mueller told him in a shaky voice.
"Think back 23 years," Illya spat. "The village of Gogolev near Kiev. You and your jack-booted comrades arrived and brought hell with you. After everyone was dead you pillaged the houses and took anything you could carry."
Waverly and Solo looked to each other but neither had any real idea how to defuse the situation.
"Mr Kuryakin," Waverly began. "I don't doubt your convictions, but if you kill Herr Mueller in this office, then you will also be guilty of murder. With your current actions you are already risking your future with U.N.C.L.E."
"With all due respect, Sir, this man does not deserve to live."
He pushed the gun harder against Mueller's skull, causing the German to turn sickly shade of green.
"That is as may be, but we have procedures for dealing with this kind of thing."
"Please, Mr Kuryakin," Mueller pleaded. "You are mistaken. It was not I."
"I may have only been eight years old, but I remember it as though it were yesterday," Illya snarled. "You laughed! She screamed and begged, but you showed no mercy! You just laughed! That is not the sort of thing one can be mistaken about."
"Stand down, Illya," Napoleon ordered. "We'll put him in a cell for now until we can question him properly."
The rage inside Illya subsided a little as he began to think things through. Risking his own career and life would not avenge his family. Waverly was right. Justice had to be served in the open. He stepped away from Mueller and, turning away, he replaced his weapon.
"Thank you Mr Kuryakin," Waverly said with a sigh of relief.
"I think you need to put your agents on leashes," Mueller commented as he regained his exposure. "I've always found that Russians tended to over-react."
"So you were there?" Illya asked quietly.
"I am not denying that. I am simply saying that you are mistaken about your mother."
Turning back to face the German, he fixed him with a glare that could have frozen the sun. He ran at Mueller, knocking him to the ground.
"Why did you kill everyone?!" he yelled. "Why?! Why?!"
"Illya! Get up, or I'll be forced to dart you."
"Not until I get an answer, Napoleon," Kuryakin replied as he landed a punch to the side of Mueller's head. "Answer me, Mueller! Why kill everyone?"
"So that there would be no witnesses!" the German blurted.
Illya's fist froze in mid-air. At the same time, Napoleon drew his own weapon, while Waverly called for security.
As security took Mueller to a cell, Napoleon guided Illya to the sofa and poured him a brandy. The Russian's hands were shaking so much he could barely hold the glass. Napoleon took it and held it to his lips. After a few minutes Illya began to compose himself and apologised profusely to his boss and to his partner.
"I understand that there will be disciplinary procedures, Sir," he said to Waverly. "I will accept whatever punishment you decide upon."
"Ordinarily, Mr Kuryakin, if an agent threatened the life of a visitor, I would throw him out before he knew it. However, given the atrocities perpetrated by men such as that, I can fully appreciate your feelings, and the reason for your actions."
"Thank you, Sir."
"I'm still going to order you to take the next seven days off," Waverly continued. "Before you protest my decision, I believe you need a little time to come to terms with today's events. I cannot begin to understand what it felt like to confront your mother's murderer after all these years, but I know it will have been an incredible shock to you."
"What will happen to Mueller?"
"I will deal with that, but rest assured, I will keep you informed. Mr Solo, please take Mr Kuryakin home. I shall contact you if you are needed."
As the two agents left the office, Waverly frowned. He couldn't afford to have his top two agents out, but if anyone could help Kuryakin through this, it was Solo.