Alexander Waverly sat alone in his conference room gazing out the window at the grey clouds that enveloped the New York skyline.
The dreariness matched his mood as he'd just received another report of more of his Section II agents being injured and killed. T.H.R.U.S.H. was beginning to get ahead if not on their schemes, but their run-ins with his people.
Even his best agents, Solo and Kuryakin had not been immune and were not both in Medical with wounds to their bodies as well as their pride.
There was a new bird on the wing, and he was running rings around the Command. At best U.N.C.L.E. was one step ahead of their feathered adversaries, or at least maintained a status quo, but now with this one on the scene, the tide had turned.
He was young and brash, no doubt looking to make a name for himself within the Hierarchy. He had the intelligence of a genius, and that allowed him to outmaneuver even the likes of Napoleon Solo, who was a master of strategy. Kuryakin and his determined ways was no match for him either.
Waverly was confounded as to how such an upstart such as this Godard de Boyville seemed to be able to predict their every move. It was as if he were telepathic, though Waverly knew that couldn't be the case, not in this business. One by one he was picking off his Section II agents in the New York area...the fellow couldn't be that good. Someone in the Command had to be helping him.
.
Illya Kuryakin opened his eyes, looking across to the bed where his partner was sleeping. He tried rolling on his side, but the pain from his ribs stopped that instantly.
"Napoleon," he called out.
"Hmmmm?" A muffled response came from the American.
"Wake up."
"Yeah, I'm awake," Solo moaned."I feel like I was hit by a train." He lifted his head, seeing his right arm in a cast, and an IV in his left. As soon as he moved, he regretted it as the room began to spin.
"I have been thinking,"
"Ooookay and about what pray tell?"
"I have been trying to think how we had been made. There was no way De Boyville could have known we were coming, yet he did. He was more than ready for us."
Napoleon tried lifting his head, with a little more success on the second attempt.
"Maybe it he was being pre-emptive, just anticipating that UNCLE would send in a team."
"I do not think so my friend, granted he is good, but he is not that good. I think there is a mole in headquarters feeding him intel. That is the only way he could have known." Illya cocked an eyebrow, but winced as a good many of his facial muscles were battered and bruised. He laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes with a sigh.
"That makes sense partner mine. You'll have to pass along your suspicions to the Old Man."
There was no answer; Illya had gone back to sleep again as his body craved the rest.
Alexander Waverly didn't need to have a conversation with his number two agent; the cunning old fox already suspected there was a mole at headquarters.
Since his top men were out of commission, and with Dancer and Slate involved in an assignment in Istanbul; the remainder of his third string agents though capable, were needed in the field. Too many had been lost to De Boyville and it had to stop.
Waverly had been an agent once upon a time with British Military Intelligence and operated during both World Wars. Perhaps it was time for him to do his own bit of sleuthing? The less people involved increased his chances of ferreting out the culprit.
He sat at his conference table, tossing around ideas as to how to go about it without becoming obvious as he wasn't known for strolling about headquarters.
Granted, he had his secret panels and doorways that allowed him to appear and disappear at will. Even Solo and Kuryakin knew nothing about most of them.
Waverly flipped the toggle switch on his intercom."Miss Rogers, a good strong tea please. I will be burning the midnight candle tonight.:
"Yes sir."
Lisa appeared a short while later with a silver tray holding a porcelain teapot with a Japanese motif, matching cup and saucer as well as a creamer and sugar bowl. There was a matching plate containing McVitie's chocolate digestive biscuits.
"A nice strong Assam Black Tea from Yorkshire sir. Your shipment just arrived."
"Perfect selection as always Miss Rogers thank you." This was going to take him well into the night to formulate his plan as well as to execute it. A telephone call to his wife Estelle was in order...bless her patience with him.
He thought back to his days in the army as a young man. Had he not met her as a nurse that fateful day in that London park, life might have turned out very different.
She became his reason for living, for fighting to survive. It was more than King and country now.
He shook himself of those thoughts and picked up the microphone at his console and asked for a line to his wife.
The phone rang several times before she picked up."Hello?"
"Estelle darling, how was your day?"
"Oh Alexander. It's been busy with preparations. Please tell me you didn't forget the grandchildren will be visiting this weekend?"
"Not at all," he lied."I just needed to tell you I love you.. I was thinking about the day we met in the park that day...you were a vision of loveliness in your blue dress with that crisp white collar and cuffs. Your white apron fluttered in the breeze and a wisp of your beautiful hair shone as it broke free from the confines of your head veil."
"My aren't you waxing poeting? Am I to presume you won't be home tonight dear?"
"Sorry dear gal. You are as always most understanding."
"Yes darling. Now go save the world. Goodnight Alexander."
"Pleasant dreams my love." He flipped a switch, disconnecting the call and setting his microphone beside the console with a sigh.
"Now down to business." He looked at the list, naming the Sections in headquarters...not that he needed the piece of paper in front of him as he knew them like the back of his hand. Still a visual aid was good at a time like this.
His eyes moved along the list, thinking which would be most likely spot from which a mole could operate.
Section IV, Intelligence and Communications. Those were his support people always running around HQ. People who did the research, handled computers. George Dennell's area. He ran a tight ship; a mole there seemed unlikely.
Section V, Communications and Security. People who answered the phones, and minor support, the staff responsible for maintaining that security protocols were followed, and monitored the daily goings on in headquarters.
Section VI, Security and Personnel. That was Medical, personnel, training, de-training and so forth. They'd already dealt with a mole there once with Carla Drosten. It seemed unlikely for history to repeat itself in Section VI.*
Alexander's eyes darted to Section II, Enforcement and Intelligence. His lower echelon field agents, comprised mostly of junior agents.
They would be able to access the movements of other agents, as they knew the protocols. Perhaps another agent looking to move up the promotion ladder? What better way to do that than to eliminate the competition? No, not a Section III, but a Section II agent!
Waverly looked at his watch. Three in the morning already? Rather than having someone do it for him, he headed to the main office for Section II and pulled up the roster for his agents.
One name jumped out at him. John Huddleston. He wasn't partnered with anyone, and had a rather uninspired career to date. The man was handsome, slender and quiet but seemed to lack the aggression and cleverness seen in Section II agents.
What better way than to feed him false intelligence for an assignment and see what he did with it. Let him think he was giving real intelligence to THRUSH that is, Godard de Boyville, and see if the man acted upon it?
A courier drop indicating the location of the next Summit Five location? If de Boyville appeared there, then Huddleston was their man. Perhaps he would pretend to swoop in and stop de Boyville and be the hero, most likely thinking he'd move up the chain of command in an attempt to usurp Solo's position?
Waverly was sure now it was Huddleston.
The next day he called Huddleston into the conference room.
"Welcome John, please be seated."
As soon as the man was in his chair Waverly send a folder round on the table.
"Your assignment Mr. Huddleston is to see this information is safely delivered to Washington D.C. and our office there. This is the communique specifying the final security arrangements and location for the next Summit Five conference to be held this Friday."
"Isn't this sort of last minute sir to get all that security in place?"
"They are quite capable of handling it young man, as I presume you are with this assignment, or do I need to…?"
"No sir, I can handle this." Huddleston stood, tucking the folder under his arm.
Friday arrived, as did Godard de Boyville at the prearranged location, a warehouse on the outskirts of the District of Columbia.
De Boyville and his men burst through the doors only to be met by two dozen U.N.C.L.E. agents armed to the teeth, led by none other than Waverly. He aimed his weapon directly at the THUSH leader, ordering he and his men to surrender, as they were quite outnumbered.
The operation ended up with not one shot being fired, as De Boyville and his ilk dropped their weapons and quickly raised their hands in surrender.
Huddleston however, didn't swoop in to save the day as Waverly had first presumed. The successful capturing De Boyville however, sadly proved Huddleston was indeed the mole.
Was he looking to become a member of THRUSH or to further his career in UNCLE by eliminating the competition, those were the penultimate questions that Waverly wanted answered. He needed to know why this agent had gone bad.
After spending the weekend with his family Alexander prepared himself for the arrival of John Huddleston in his conference room on Monday morning.
Solo and Kuryakin were present, having been released from Medical, though they weren't cleared to return to the field. With them sat Tom Lopaka, the head of Section V Security.
Huddleston arrived exactly on time, nodding his acknowledgement of those present before seating himself at the table.
"Good morning John," Waverly said."I've asked you here for a very important meeting, albeit not a pleasant one. It seems we have a mole in the wall as it were, here in headquarters."
Huddleston sat up straight, leaning forward as that statement had gotten his attention. Acting cool as a cucumber, he gave no indication of nervousness.
"Your suspicions sir?" He asked.
"Have already been confirmed. I just have one question for you young man...why did you do it?"
"Me? You think I'm the mole?"
"We don't think, we know John," Napoleon said.
Illya chimed in," You see the documents you delivered to Washington for the location of the summit and the security arrangements were fake. Our team was waiting there for Godard de Boyville. He and his men were taken without a shot, though he refused to give you up, the fact that he knew the location could only have come from you as no one else knew of this operation."
"You were the only one given that information young man; it was a setup," Waverly said. He tapped his pipe in the crystal ashtray in front of him before filling it with fresh tobacco from his humidor.
"Why?" Napoleon repeated Waverly's question.
"Money. I was tired of living paycheck to paycheck, while risking my life. I was offered a substantial amount of money by THRUSH that was too tempting to refuse. It was more than I made in a year with UNCLE. Maybe if you paid your agents better this sort of thing might not happen?"
"Mr. Huddleston, we are not in this for the money," Illya said. "We have a job to do, a job of which you apparently lost sight."
"Easy for you to say Kuryakin, you make more money than me."
Illya looked to his boss for a response this time.
Waverly harrumphed."That was information I thought was secure from prying eyes. Perhaps gentlemen we need to revamp our internal security procedures, as well as payroll. My other agents will owe you a debt of gratitude Mr. Huddleston for calling the inadequacies of your pay grade to me, as I will see about giving some of my field agents a pay raise."
"Some?" Napoleon asked.
"Yes Mr. Solo."
Solo and Kuryakin rose from the seats, and relieved Huddleston of his weapon and communicator.
"Mr. Lopaka if you would be so kind to escort Mr. Huddleston to a holding cell until I decide his disposition."
"Yes sir boss,"the big Hawaiian said."Come on brudda." He took the man by the arm and whisked him out of the conference room. They were met by a pair of his Security people in the corridor where they handcuffed him.
Waverly finally lit up his pipe, puffing away on it for a moment with satisfaction.
"I must say congratulations are in order sir on a job well done. Made me and Illya feel like we're not needed," Napoleon said.
"Speak for yourself," Kuryakin jumped in.
"Oh not to worry gentlemen, you're needed as always but just not this time. I must say it's nice to see that I haven't lost my touch. Now off with you both, go recuperate or some such and please stay out of trouble? Oh, cancel that. Mr. Solo I want you to go through the files of all our Section II and III agents, interim reviews as it were for those pay increases where warranted, of course."
Napoleon had a pained look in his eyes."Yes sir, I'll get that to you as quickly as I can...perhaps Mr. Kuryakin can assist me?"
"No, as CEA it is your responsibility for such things, though he his your second he has other things to see to. I understand you had some interesting electronic developments going in R&D Mr. Kuryakin?"
"I did sir, but they proved to be ineffective," Illya lied through his teeth.
"Oh very well, you may take the time to relax and recuperate then young man."
"Yes sir," Illya couldn't help but flash a smirk at his partner.
Together they left the office, but it was obvious Napoleon wasn't happy.
"Do not worry my friend I will still help you sort through things,let us say as an expeditor. The recommendations however will be yours and only yours."
"Thanks tovarisch, I appreciate it. The sooner we get done the sooner we can ahem...recuperate."
"My thoughts exactly."
"Hey Illya, do we make enough money?"
"I am satisfied with my pay grade and as CEA you receive more monies than I, due to the added responsibilities...though I do help you with your reports and workload."
"Tovarisch, I think I'm going to recommend you for a pay increase," Napoleon grinned.
"Oh so that will give me more ready cash to loan you then."
"Very funny."
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*ref to "The Waverly Ring Affair"