Napoleon and Illya were headed to lunch when shrieks began to emanate from the large room where most of the secretarial pool was located. As they turned in that direction, several women dashed into the hallway.
"Illya! Napoleon!" Charlene cried when she noticed them. "There's a huge green bug that came out of a plant Jolene brought to work and it's flying around! Do something!"
Napoleon said, "Of course. At your service. Come on, Illya."
When they entered the room, the women still there pointed at a corner on the far side. He went where they indicated and saw a large insect lying on its back. "This little thing?" he said aloud. "It's just a backyard pest."
"We don't care what it is," Elizabeth the new girl replied. "Just kill it!"
"No," Illya said as he walked over, "this is a cicada. It is harmless." He bent down and picked it up with his bare hand which caused the women to shrink back ever farther. "It is not poisonous and it rarely bites. I will release it outside."
A chorus of "Thank you, Illya! Thank you, Napoleon!" echoed behind them as they continued on to the exit. Once they were on the street, the Russian placed the cicada on a tree branch about six feet off the ground.
"That was nice of you to offer to do that, Tovarisch."
Illya shrugged. "Sometimes, I become weary of killing." He turned and continued walking, effectively ending that conversation.
I wonder what that's about, Napoleon thought as he followed his partner into hamburger joint in the next block. The waitress brought them water and menus, which they handed back to her as they already knew what they wanted.
Katie, according to her nameplate, dutifully wrote down everything they said and then headed off to the kitchen. Napoleon looked around even though no one was sitting near them and said, "That order should keep the cook busy for a few minutes. That comment when you let the bug go, what did you mean by that?"
Illya rolled his eyes while he sipped his water. "What it was about was exactly what I said: Sometimes, I become weary of killing. Do you not get tired of it?"
Now it was the senior agent's turn to shrug. "I guess. I've never actually thought about it in quite those terms."
"When I was training in the KGB, I was taught not to leave loose ends. It was a 'scorched earth' policy: Anyone I interrogated, once I obtained the information, was to be dispatched. As an agent, I carried out assassinations on the orders of my superiors. No questions asked, no leeway. To be merciful was not encouraged, to say the least."
"You've never told me anything about your training outside of Survival School before."
"I know. Suffice it to say, Napoleon, it was brutal, but effective. However, since I became an UNCLE agent, I have had opportunities to be merciful, to not kill."
"Like taking the cicada outside and releasing it."
"Exactly."
Katie came to their table with her tray balanced on her shoulder. She set it down and two large Cokes, a platter containing a cheeseburger and fries in front of Napoleon and a platter containing two bacon cheeseburgers with lettuce and tomato and a large pickle. She placed the side order of fries Illya had ordered between them.
As was his habit, Illya immediately tucked into his food. Napoleon watched for a few seconds before picking up some fries. "That cicada is very lucky. I know they're edible; you could've just ate him for an appetizer before we got here." The glare he got in return was so worth it.
