The corridors of UNCLE Headquarters were humming with activity as personnel carried out the various duties assigned to them, both men and women. The female staff had only recently expanded from support personnel to field agents, including the first woman to enter the elite ranks of Section II.
April Dancer was newly assigned to New York after a mission that had taken her from Paris to the Mediterranean, and now here to the heart of UNCLE: New York City. Of course the excitement of being stationed in the same location as Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin served to remind her of that first mission and the whirlwind of action and emotions that had initiated her into the ranks of Section II. (New Girl)
Mark Slate sauntered past a row of secretaries as he headed towards the elevator, turning a few heads as he calculated the probability of dating the ones not already swooning over Napoleon. His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of his new partner, April.
"Hi Mark. I guess we're really official now." April was nervous, it would be her first meeting with Alexander Waverly around the legendary round table that served as his desk.
"Hello luv, you look a little nervous.' His smile gave her some reassurance.
"Just relax and let the meeting go on around you, take it all in. You'll know when to chime in." April slipped her arm around Mark's, grateful for the wisdom that had paired them as partners.
"Thanks Mark. Really, I'm good, just excited and… well maybe a little nervous."
"You're Section II April, you've already proven yourself." It was just what she needed to hear. Facing the door to Waverly's office, the two walked through the swishing pneumatic doors and were met by the three men who occupied the top roles in the New York headquarters.
Waverly's back was turned as he engaged the panel of lights and switches located on the wall behind his spot. Napoleon was dressed in his immaculate style, but Illya was less pristine in appearance. His suit was dirty, as though he'd rolled in mud, leaving the black suit and turtleneck worse for wear. His pallor was unusually pale, white against the dark clothing.
"Illya? What happened, you look like you've been run over by a … " Illya held up his hand to stop April from saying more.
"I was, run over that is." Brief and slightly cryptic, he said nothing more, wincing slightly when he moved to reach for the glass of water in front of him.
"Are you hurt?" April felt her stomach lurch slightly, aware once more that she had an annoying attraction to the blond agent. He looked like he should be in Medical instead of Waverly's office.
Napoleon noted the look in April's eyes, her lack of restraint concerning emotions when confronted with something like Illya's appearance. She still had a lot to learn.
Waverly turned around and addressed his agents, noting once more Kuryakin's condition and the attention he was getting from Miss Dancer's appraisal of him. That would bear watching.
"Gentlemen, Miss Dancer, you are the four people who will be embarking on a journey that has, as its destination, an all-inclusive holiday island; a vacation village, according to the promotional materials. We do not yet know whether the owners are themselves a THRUSH entity, or if the Hierarchy has simply infiltrated its ranks. What we do know is that one of our own has died at the location in Bali, and you four are going to find out why, and how."
Napoleon looked around the table before speaking.
"Sir, the report doesn't say whether Dave Rogers was there on UNCLE business or for a vacation. He was stationed in Hong Kong, so the mission began there I assume." This sort of thing was always distressing, losing an agent without knowing the details of his demise or the mission he was carrying out.
"Mr. Rogers was in Bali, at this resort… uh… Club de Vacances, on a search for evidence that THRUSH is indeed involved there. It now seems evident that they are present, just to what degree we are not yet certain."
Illya was looking tired, but he could sleep on the flight out. The arrangements were as yet not detailed to the four agents.
"Sir, what will be our roles in this affair?" He hoped his was to sleep on the beach for a few days.
"Mr. Kuryakin, you and Miss Dancer will be there as a couple, newly married. Mr. Slate will be part of the flight crew, staying on the island resort as part of a ... ahhh..."
"Layover, sir?" Mark inserted the stray word.
"Yes, yes, quite so. Thank you Mr. Slate. Mr. Solo is traveling alone, and therefore free to engage the female staff for, ahem… information. Please let that be your only engagement, Mr. Solo." The eyebrows shot up to the Old Man's hairline as he accented the instructions to his top agent.
"Oh, yes sir, I shall be very circumspect." Napoleon glanced over at Mark and April, winking without cracking a smile.
"And you, Mr. Kuryakin, report to Medical immediately upon leaving my office and do whatever the doctor tells you to do.' His eyes bored into his Russian agent unmercifully.
"Do you understand?" Illya winced slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he acknowledged his superior. There was at least one rib damaged in the fracas he and Napoleon had encountered while shutting down a small THRUSH enterprise a few miles north of the City. He had a cut on his scalp, the result of a lunatic who came at him yelping like one of the so-called Indians in an American film about the wild west. He seemingly intended to scalp the blond, but Napoleon had put an end to it.
What Illya secretly longed for was a few days off, and the idea of going to Bali for a few days, even if on a mission, had a definite appeal. No objections to some time on the beach.
Neither would he object to spending time with Miss Dancer.