REFURBISHMENT

'You mean there is no way we can get out of here, and no way anyone can get in?'

'Well, almost no way.'

Napoleon looked incredulously at his partner, and then gave the table a spin just to relieve his feelings.

'Whoever's idea this was, it wasn't a smart one' he muttered, flicking the switches on the console disconsolately, before slumping down in his seat and staring at the fixed and rather boring images of one of UNCLE HQ's exits.

Illya was now laid out full stretch on the new black leather sofa, apparently unaware or even worried by the situation.

'Actually, the refurbishment was your idea' he said laconically. 'I told you it was neither necessary nor financially sensible, but you would go ahead with it.' A very faint smile, luckily unseen by Solo, flitted across his features. 'I suppose that's what happens when one puts external appearance before logical necessity' he added, slightly pursing his lips before a large cushion landed on them.

'Thank you, Mr Sensible' Napoleon replied. 'I don't see how I'm responsible for the fact that an electrician manages to accidentally fall against the main computer and cause all this' he continued, a rather pathetic edge creeping into his voice.

Illya sat up. They had been sitting there for some time now with the doors firmly shut, the rest of HQ similarly trapped in the places they had been when the computer went down. Doors that were shut remained shut, those open remained open. It was not even possible to call for help seeing that communications were also scrambled.

'So, if an agent turns up at the only exit where the computer can be re-set, theoretically everything will then work again?'

'Theoretically,' Illya said, standing up and staring at the still unchanging entrance, 'but unlikely for some time, seeing that all of Section Three is here for a training day, and most of Section Two is far away from New York.'

'Marvellous. I can see it now' Napoleon said, joining his partner staring at the screen. 'Solo brings UNCLE HQ to a complete standstill on the first occasion he is left in charge. So which idiot designed a system where there was only one external place to re-set the program?'

'This idiot' Illya replied ruefully. It's worked perfectly until today.' He sighed, wriggling slightly as Napoleon glared at him.

'What's wrong?'

'Well perhaps you didn't drink as much coffee as I did this morning, but it may have escaped your attention that we have no access to either food or, um, comfort facilities.'

'Illya, ignore your more basic needs and look.' The top of someone's head had appeared in the screen, the hair sticking up slightly in places across what looked like a rather small head. As they watched, an equally small hand appeared, touching the security screen, which instantly displayed a miniature keyboard.

'Who is that, and what are they touching?' Napoleon asked incredulously as Illya's jigging was replaced by rapt attention to the screen.

'You have to key in the right tune' he said, ignoring his partner's expression. 'I changed it yesterday when I came out that way with . . .'

'Please don't tell me that that's your seven year old daughter re-setting the computer there.'

The sudden hiss of the door opening answered his question, together with the equally unexpected appearance of a piece of paper on the screen.

'What does that say?'

Illya groaned.

'It says, 'Go to work with your parents day'. A loud bleep sounded from the console before an unmistakeable child's voice suddenly boomed into the room.

'You promised, papa.'