Illya Kuryakin, that smug know-it-all U.N.C.L.E. agent was finally within my clutches. He sat there handcuffed to a metal chair, with each wrist fastened to an armrest and each ankle to a chair leg. I wasn't taking any chances with this one.

His head was hanging over, a little drool coming from the side of his mouth as I'd given him a substantial dose of sedative to make him as helpless as a baby.

I relieved him of more equipment than a Sherman Tank, two guns, two knives, lock-picks, explosive putty, a mini blow torch, a garrotte, some vials of probably sleep gas, as well as several clips of live and sleep dart ammunition. This guy was a walking armory, unlike his partner who I knew from his dossier, carried less firepower.

Solo, he was the tactician, while the Russian was surprisingly the strong arm. The were the Frick and Frack of the spy world. I would have never put them together as a successful team because they were so un-alike, but their pairing worked and too well. Where one was, the other was sure not to be far behind and I was counting on that as part of my plan, using the Russian as bait to lure Solo into my trap.

Kuryakin, was quiet from what I heard and was like a walking encyclopedia when information was needed, but when held captive, he had a snarky smart mouth on him and seemed to always try to get in the last word. Man that guy could make one hell of a bomb too... I swear he takes delight in it, like some sort of pyromaniac."

Now Solo, he just can't keep his hands off women, it's like he's addicted to them. That was part of my scheme as well.

"What a pair, one has a thing for bombs, the other for bombshells, the kind that wears high heels. Well now I had the 'little old bomb-maker' under my control, knowing Mr. Libido would be here soon to rescue his friend."

Kuryakin raised his head, looking at me with beautiful blue, drooping eyes.

"Y'know y'not gonna win. He is heeeerrrrrrr already. You are a dead bird..."

I couldn't believe the Russkie could manage to talk; for a small guy, he was as strong as an ox. "But not for long," I smiled at that thought.

"Я готов к нему_I'm ready for him." I spoke to him in his own language.

"Нет, вы не_no you are not."

"And why is that, you pompous ass?"

"потому что он стоит прямо позади вас_cause' he is staning right behind you," the Russian slurred.

I spun around, drawing my gun, but Solo wasn't there.

Kuryakin let out what sounded more like a grunt than a laugh as he struggled to smile. A nice back handed slap across his already swollen mouth ended that, and after he spit some blood, he passed out again. I was really enjoying this.

That was when I heard it, a loud creak as the door at the top of the basement stairs was being opened. No doubt it was Solo.

I prepared myself, adjusting the top of my tight dress, making sure I had ample cleavage exposed. I tousled my auburn hair, hid my pistol, and dropped to the floor; making myself look helpless and alluring as I lay spread eagle on my back. I closed my eyes that were now green, thanks to contacts and pretended to be half conscious.

I could hear the door open and the approaching footsteps; it was then I moaned.

Strong hands lifted me, they were warm as they touched my cheek. I let my eyes flutter open, meeting the warmest hazel-brown eyes I'd ever seen. So this was Napoleon Solo...wow.

"Are you all right, can you stand?" He whispered. His breath smelled minty, and the slight hint of cologne was very sexy.

I nodded, and he lifted me to my feet like I was as light as a feather. I suddenly thought that was funny, me being a Thrush. Yeah, I should be as light as a feather even though I knew I wasn't.

"I'm afraid your friend isn't doing so well, I think he was poisoned." I gasped into his ear, making him pay attention to my heaving breasts as he looked down at me. Oh he smelled so good, and I suddenly found myself wanting to reach up and nuzzle that ear.

He lowered his head, allowing his lips to come enticingly close to mine.

"I would not kiss her if I were you Napoleon," Kuryakin warned in a loud, coherent voice." She has a sleep potion in her lipstick and by the way, she is a he."

"And you know this how, partner mine?" Solo said, trying not to show his surprise.

He relieved me of my gun before I could even draw it and lowered me down in a chair all in one swift motion and cuffed my wrist to the armrest, just as I'd done to his partner. I tried flashing him a puppy dog look, again making with the heaving bosoms, but it didn't work now that he knew.

"I smelled it when she...he moved close to my face,"Illya answered, " It is a standard Thrush formula and has a distinct odor and it was then I saw there was an Adam's apple. Women do not have Adam's apples. Napoleon, reacquaint yourself with Julius Jones, or should I say, Julie?"

"Yes, soon to be Julie, once my surgery is complete! How the hell are you awake Kuryakin?" I demanded. "You were a dribbling two year old a few minutes ago."

"That is because my dear, I have been doused with your organizations drugs so many times that I have developed a sort of tolerance to them. I suppose it is lucky for me that you Thrush are creatures of habit and rarely adjust your favorite formulas. The most I suffer from your concoctions is a rather annoying headache.

I watched as Solo picked up the set of keys I'd left on the table and used them to open the handcuffs restraining his partner.

Kuryakin rubbed his swollen wrists, then took the keys from his partner, freeing his ankles and tossing the keys to a far, dark corner of the room.

"Julie, an Angelique or Serena you will never be." The Russian taunted me."Shall we go?" He smiled to the American..

"Hey you two aren't leaving me here?" I whined, giving it my best shot.

"Yes we are." Solo flashed a wide grin at me.

"The keys are there," Kuryakin pointed." It should take you some time to move your chair, given it is quite heavy. Удачи_have fun," he said as he wiped the blood from his mouth with a handkerchief Solo had handed him.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry? Пожалуйста?_please?

"You are lucky this is all we are doing," Kuryakin said menacingly as he leaned in close to me. He turned to his partner with a strange smile.

"You really did not know Napoleon?"

Solo had a tone of defensiveness to his voice, "I could tell. I knew, but I was just bluffing.."

"Right." Kuryakin snickered.

"Did too," Solo insisted.

The last thing I could hear was the Russian's laughter as the two of them disappeared up the stairs. "You were going kiss her."

"Was not. I really did know!" Solo groaned as they slammed the door behind them.

.

"I hate those two... and U.N.C.L.E." I struggled against the armrest, yanking violently with my wrists. Now that they knew who I was; the element of surprise was gone. I'd have to think of another way to lure Napoleon Solo and his partner into my web...yes web. I like that.

I was seething at Kuryakin's comment about never being an Angelique or Serena.

"I'll show them..." I hissed, as I struggled further. "Damn! " I couldn't help but whine, "I broke a nail!"