A voice came from a speaker in the communications nook in Alexander Waverly's conference room. It was Chief Lopaka the head of Security.
"Mr. Waverly sir we have a problem in Del Floria's."
He looked up from the file he was reading, stood and walked over to his console, still holding his morning cup of Darjeeling in his hand.
"What sort of problem man? Put it on video feed,"he spoke into his microphone.
An image came into view on the small television screen in front of him.
There were two men both dressed identically in black trench coats and fedoras. One was speaking in a very animated manner, raising his hands and shaking his fist at Del, who was obviously poised to reach for his weapon beneath the counter.
"The gentleman is demanding to see you and is claiming he and his companion are from the Soviet embassy."
Alexander peered closely at the screen, indeed recognizing one man as the Soviet Ambassador to the U.N. though he did not know other fellow with him.
"What the devil does he want now?" Alexander had dealings with the man in the past and they were not always the most pleasant of experiences.
"That is Soviet Ambassador Zorin and he seems quite anxious to meet with me. Escort him and his companion inside but have them both carefully scanned for transmitters and remove any, along with their weapons."
"Yes sir Mr. Waverly."
A team arrived in the tailor shop, showing the men into reception, and after being scanned and politely asked to surrender their belongings; the Soviets, cooperated but after much protest.
The unidentified man accompanying Zorin was one Boris Fedorenko, the Ambassador's personal bodyguard and member of the KGB. He was a husky man, with a shaved head and angry piercing grey eyes.
He became quite aggressive when he was told that only the Ambassador would be seeing Alexander Waverly.
"Listen Brudda," the big Hawaiian said," You're not going anywhere and that is per my boss."
Solo and Kuryakin arrived in the nick of time to prevent a ruckus between Fedorenko and the Tommy Lopaka, though Solo was sure the big Hawaiian could have easily taken the guy.
The Ambassador remained silent when greeted in Russian by Kuryakin, and the glaring look Illya received from him did not bode well.
Again after much arguing, and reassurances as to the Ambassador's safety made by Illya, still speaking in his native language; they headed to the Conference room.
Fedorenko, under protest, remained under the watchful eye of Lopaka and his Security team while the two agents escorted the Ambassador to the conference room.
After passing through multiple security checkpoints, they at last arrived at their destination.
Lisa Rogers acknowledged them."He's waiting for you gentlemen, go right in."
The doors to the 'inner sanctum' opened with a quiet whoosh.
"Ambassador Zorin," Waverly rose, offering his hand to the innocuous looking grey-haired man. If one were to meet this on the street they might think him as merely someone's kindly grandfather, but he was far from that. His confrontation with the American ambassador to the U.N. during the Cuban Missile Crisis, but a year ago, came to mind.
Over the years the man had been Ambassador to Czechoslovakia and to the Federal Republic of Germany. He was the permanent Soviet representative at the UN Security Council as well as Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Soviet Union. He was a man moving up in power, but was not as powerful as he oft times thought himself to be.
The man was once accused of having a talent for obfuscating the truth, and in that estimation Alexander Waverly agreed wholeheartedly.
"To what do I owe this unexpected visit Ambassador? I assume it's not a social call."He gestured for the man to be seated.
"No Mr. Waverly, is not social call. We in Soviet Union are very upset with recent situation in Africa, and demand greater details. It is very dis...dis, Kuryakin translate for me I am too angered at moment.
"YA ochen' smushchen vashey organizatsii sokrytiye takoy smertel'noye oruzhiye, kak eto teplovoy prizmy ustroystva. Pochemu my ne uvedomili o yego sushchestvovanii?"
Illya instantly complied. "Ambassador Zorin is very disconcerted at our organization covering up such a deadly weapon as this thermal prism device. He wants to know why Soviet Union was not notified of its existence."
"I demand answer," the Ambassador broke in." Our agreement with UNCLE guaranteed sharing of intelligence! "Zorin slammed his fist on the conference table."You are perhaps withholding information to share with Amerikanskii instead?After all you are headqauartered in New York City, a great mecca for their bourgeoisi."
Waverly handled the implied insult with typical British aplomb.
"Firstly Mr. Ambassador I'll ask you to calm yourself. The information regarding the thermal prism is highly classified and I would like to know exactly how you obtained it sir?"
"That I will say to you as well, is highly classified," Zorin answered smugly.
"Am I to presume you have not spoken of it with your Premier as of yet. I was just speaking with him this morning and he made no mention of it to me."
Zorin was taken aback at that statement.
Waverly casually picked up his pipe, pressing the tobacco in the bowl with his thumb before striking a match to it; he drew the aromatic smoke into his lungs, releasing it slowly. It spiraled up around his head as the Old Man watched Zorin huff his impatience.
The Chief of U.N.C.L.E. Northwest was deliberately taking his time to assess his opponent.
"Let me remind you sir the the information we share with the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics is at our discretion as per our agreement with the Kremlin. We release information to our member nations when it is applicable to the security of said nation and nothing more. We make it our responsibility to help maintain political and legal order anywhere in the world regardless of nation's size or political persuasion. We are independant and owe allegiance to no one...not you, not the United States or anyone else for that matter. Our business in the end is peace, Mr. Ambassador. World peace."
"And you feel the existence of this prism weapon is not threat to all members of Soviet Union? I think you are not being honest with me and perhaps are conspiring against us with Americanskii."
"Mr. Waverly, if I may?" Napoleon interrupted, waiting for the Old Man's nod of approval.
"Mr. Ambassador, the discussion of the thermal prism is a moot point as it simply no longer exists. It has been destroyed. Our organization destroys all such weapons capable of mass destruction. That is our standing policy."
"And who destroyed, if I am to believe this is truth?"
"Mr. Kuryakin and myself did, sir. The device's creator, Dr. Kharmusi, is dead, as well as are the other nefarious persons involved."
"Pravda li eto tovarishch Kapitan Kuryakin_ is this true Comrade Captain Kuryakin?"
"Da, tovarishch posol_ yes Comrade Ambassador. He speaks the truth."
"A gde dokumenty dlya etogo oruzhiya? YA trebuyu, chtoby uvidet' ikh?"
"That Ambassador Zorin, you will have to ask Mr. Waverly as I am not at liberty to say," Illya's Russian accent was more pronounced as refused to answer the question.
"You will tell me Kuryakin. I order you to do so as you are still Soviet citizen and member of Glavnoye razvedyvatel'noye upravleniye. You are obliged to give me information!"
"Nyet, ser. Ya ne yavlyayus'_no sir. I am not."
"Where is documentation for this weapon and others you have. I demand to see this," Zorin bellowed.
"The information that U.N.C.L.E. possesses is kept in a secure, top secret location,"Napoleon answered calmly, helping Waverly to double-team the ambassador." It's information that will never be shared. No one will ever have access to these documents and rest assure they are periodically purged and destroyed."
Waverly took his turn. "With all due respect Mr. Ambassador, though Mr. Kuryakin still retains his Soviet citizenship, he is my agent and no longer works for your military intelligence. He is no way obliged to reveal any information to you or any of the Soviet Union's representatives. It was part of our agreement that he would not be duplicitous in any of his dealings with our organization as well as any country or government with which he is in contact. He is my number two man in the field and has acted with honor, integrity and pride in his work in helping to keep the world safe. That, my good fellow. is all the information you need to know."
"Ah so you will not share anything with me at all then, Mr. Waverly?" Zorin rose from his chair, his chin raised in a defiant pose.
"No and it's is my final answer in this matter. Now if that's all Mr. Ambassador, I do have a busy schedule. Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin if you'll be so good as to escort the Ambassador and his bodyguard out of headquarters. And Mr. Ambassador, next time please call before you come to visit, as I might not have an opening in my schedule to see you on a moments notice."
With that, Zorin was summarily dismissed, but not until he tried to get in the last word.
"Comrade Captain Kuryakin, consider yourself on notice to be recalled to Moskva."
"Mr. Zorin," Waverly deliberately dropped his title," Mr. Kuryakin is not yours to order about. He is under contract with U.N.C.L.E. and is my agent. Only the Kremlin and head of the GRU can nullify that agreement, sir."
"Agreement with Soviet Union is to supply you with agent," Zorin flashed a threatening grimace." It does not say that we cannot give you new agent in Kuryakin's place."
Illya's face blanched at that statement, but said nothing.
Waverly, clearly showing his ire at being threatened, flicked a switch on his console. "Security, please escort the Ambassador and his KGB 'friend' from headquarters immediately. They are not permitted re-entry at this time."
"Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin if you would be so good as to please remain here."
The door to the conference room opened and in walked two burly
Section V agents, both standing well over six feet tall.
"You have not heard last from me Waverly." The Ambassador turned, pointing a finger in Illya's face.
"Kuryakin vy dolzhny vernut'sya domoy, chtoby Moskva ili vy budete firmennykh predatelya! I vy znayete, chto my delayem dlya predateley_ Kuryakin you are to return home to Moskva or you will be branded traitor! And you know what we do to traitors!"
"This way Mr. Ambassador." The team members stood on either side of the man, moving him quickly to the corridor, and walked beneath the Yellow flashing lights above them. No klaxon sounded as these lights simply put everyone on warning, giving a heads up there was a potential situation going on in headquarters.
Security cleared the corridors as soon as they were called to escort, the two men from the building.
Once the doors closed, Napoleon was the first to speak, as he was able to understand the Ambassadors threats, as was Waverly.
"Sir, he can't recall Illya can he?"
"Absolutely not, as I said it would have to be authorized by the Kremlin and the head of the GRU. Safeguards were put in place for just this reason. Zorin can however, attempt to make waves, but that is something with which I will deal."
"Sir, if I must return…" Illya said.
"Nonsense young man. You're here to stay unless Khrushchev himself authorizes it and between you and I...well let's say that Nikita and I have a very good working relationship. Don't be surprised if it's Ambassador Zorin who's recalled to Moscow for a tongue lashing to say the least," Waverly smiled knowingly.
"Now my concern is more with how the Ambassador even got the information regarding the thermal prism. I suspect we have a leak in the organization, and I task you gentlemen with finding it. Now dismissed gentlemen."
"Excuse me sir,"Illya interrupted,"You are not worried about me being the leak...I am after all a Soviet."
"Mr. Kuryakin if I had any doubts about you I would have let Ambassador Zorin abscond with you. Now do what you must to find our suspected mole."
"Thank you for your confidence sir," Illya nodded.
Waverly harumphed his unintelligible response…
Napoleon and Illya walked along the busy grey corridor side by side.
"There is a possibility that I can still be recalled to Moskva," Illya tilted his head to one side. "Right now KGB is in favor with the Kremlin and not GRU."
"He tovarisch, we'll trust to Mr. Waverly's pull with the Premier. I think you have a better chance of being killed on a mission than being shipped off to the gulag."
"Either way it results in me being dead." Illya's face remained emotionless as usual.
"Ever the fatalist aren't you IK?"
"It is needed to counterbalance your perennial optimism my friend."