Mark and April were driving back to New York City from upstate New York. They were feeling happy and celebratory because they had successfully completed their most difficult affair to date. It had taken them five days to locate the THRUSH they had been assigned to find, extract the information they needed from him and neutralize the plot to poison the reservoirs in that part of the state.

They had stopped for lunch and when they resumed their trip, April had taken over the wheel. "I can say this now, Darling: I was terrified when Napoleon gave us this assignment."

"Really? You seemed cool as a cucumber, Luv, when we were being briefed. Why didn't you mention this before? I thought we were supposed to be honest with each other."

"I'm being honest with you now! You seemed so excited to have something better than a glorified milk run for us to sink our teeth into that I didn't want to throw a damper on your mood. It wasn't until we reported in to Napoleon and he told us how proud he was of us that I began to believe…What's going on?"

Mark looked ahead to see a group of ten individuals in hooded robes standing in the road approximately one hundred yards from them. "Didn't I hear there's a monastery that makes wine somewhere around this area? Maybe those are monks from there, you think?"

April, who had slowed to a stop on the deserted road, stared at the figures who all had their backs to them, as if looking at something Mark and she couldn't see because they were in the way. "That would be the Brotherhood Winery in Washingtonville. We just passed Margaretville, so it about eighty miles south of here. Maybe their bus broke down?"

Just then, the group turned to face them. Their hoods hung low over their faces, but when two of them waved their arms over their heads, they looked like they needed assistance.

"I'm going to go to them," she said as she lifted her foot off the brake.

Mark's sense of danger was sparking all along his skin. He had his gun out of its holster before his mind had caught up with his body. "I don't like this, April. Something's not right. I can feel it."

April knew better than to disregard her partner's gut. "Should I not stop? They're blocking the road!"

"Stop, but don't roll the window all the way down."

April stopped the car about ten feet from the group and they began to move to either side of the car. "Mark, why can't I see their faces?" she whispered.

Suddenly, they all stretched out their arms and started chanting in a language neither agent understood or recognized. April slammed on the gas and the car jumped forward, wheels squealing. She hoped the two figures standing in front would jump out of the way, but instead…"I drove over them!" she screamed as she raced down the road toward the next town.

Mark was staring behind them. "No, you drove through them. And they're chasing us! They're…flying!"

"What?!" April started to turn to look, but Mark's hand stopped her head.

"Drive! Drive, for the love of God!" Mark was terrified to see them gaining easily. He leaned out the window and squeezed off a few shots which did nothing to slow the wraiths. He pulled out his communicator, but had no idea what he could even say to explain what was happening to them. He finally said, "Open Channel S, emergency. Emergency!"

Napoleon answered immediately. "What's wrong?"

"We're going to die, Napoleon! I'm sorry!" He looked behind him to see the faceless things were less than fifty feet behind and closing. He turned to face front and grab April's hand just as they shot past a sign reading "Now entering Arkville."

April glanced up at the rearview mirror. "They've stopped, Mark! Look!" She took a chance and slowed to a halt.

Mark took a deep calming breath and turned. "They look like they're milling about, like they can't go any farther."

"Whatever they are, they must be tied to Margaretville somehow and now that we're in Arkville…"

"They can't reach us. Cor blimey!"

The trilling of both their communicators broke into their conversation.

"Slate."

"Dancer."

Napoleon was talking to Mark at the same time Illya was to April. The questions were the same. "What's wrong? Are you all right? What do you mean you're going to die?"

Mark moved his communicator next to April's and said, "Gentlemen, we seem to have escaped the danger. I promise we will answer all your questions when we get back. To be honest, I think if we don't start driving now, I won't be able to travel, at all."

The silence that emanated from both devices fairly crackled with dissatisfaction. Finally, Napoleon said, "Okay. Both of you report to my office immediately upon entering HQ. Solo out."

Behind them at the town line, they could still see the robed beings in the road, enraged that their prey had gotten away, stopped by whatever supernatural force held them in Margaretville.

April shuddered as she put the car in gear. "What about the next car that comes down that road?"

"God help them, Luv, because we can't."

Hours later, the junior agents were in their CEA's office explaining to him and his Second in Command what had transpired on their drive home after the conclusion of their successful affair. They had discussed ad nauseum whether or not to be truthful and had decided they would be, even if it meant Napoleon scheduling them for several sessions with the shrinks. They didn't know what to expect, but they were still surprised when they were met with silence.

Napoleon and Illya exchanged glances. "Go write up your mission report and then, come to my home for drinks. Seven o'clock. Consider that an order. I'll make sandwiches," the CEA said. "See you then."

Napoleon's bell rang at seven sharp. He checked the peephole, undid the alarms and opened the door. Mark and April came in and were ushered to the living room where Illya sat with a glass of vodka and a plate filled with sandwiches and salads. Napoleon waited until everyone had food and drinks before he began to speak.

"Mark, April, what Illya and I wanted to tell you we didn't wish to share at Headquarters. As agents, we live and die behind the curtain in a world the maiden aunts of the world never get to see. I don't know if that's the reason, but sometimes, we see things…"

Illya chimed in, "What Napoleon is saying is: We believe you. I have, we have both experienced things for which there is no explanation, scientific or otherwise. We have never dared to tell Mr. Waverly some of the things that have happened to us."

Napoleon sipped his scotch and then said, "We both know how hard it was for you two to tell your senior agents what you experienced. The realization that Illya and I had encountered something supernatural came only after denials and accusations were hurled as we argued about the reality of what we'd seen. A lot of those arguments were about how we wouldn't be believed and how we would probably be pulled from the field and called delusional or worse."

"We want you to know: You may approach either one of us if anything like this occurs ever again. Illya and I want you to know we will believe you, we don't think you're crazy and you can trust us with the information. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," they replied in unison.

"That is so appreciated, Napoleon, Illya," April added.

Mark chimed in, "Really appreciated. Thank you. You're both first class Mates."

Napoleon raised his glass. "You're not so bad yourselves. You're both off duty for the next five days."

Illya refilled his glass. "Allow me to demonstrate how Napoleon and I deal with the supernatural. We drink. Let's get drunk."