The girl was dangling from the rafters of the building, one arm locked around her purse while the other clung tenaciously to what appeared to be a large metal ring. She was debating with herself the probability that if she dropped to the ground beneath her it would be in all likelihood her last act as a member of the U.N.C.L.E.

If her partner would only wake up...

"Mark! Mark, wake up darling, I'm in a bit of a fix. Mark!" That last yelp of desperation seemed to do the trick, pulling him back from the drug induced sleep. Mark Slate looked around in an effort to gain some bearings on his situation. That's when he saw April, hanging about ten feet from him over the floor of the big building. It was a long way down.

"April luv, I'm ... well, I'm going to rescue you so just ha...' He almost said it.

"I'll get you, don't worry."

Worry? Who's worried, she thought. April Dancer had every confidence in her British partner; he'd never failed her yet.

In a smooth maneuver that had Slate doing a balance beam the olympic gymnasts would envy, he reached his partner and reached out for her to grab his hand.

"Let go of the purse April." She might have been out of this mess already if she'd only dropped the hot pink bag she was still clutching with a vengeance.

"What? Drop this bag? Not on your life, Slate. This is a Chanel, surely you recognize the quilted flap and the ..."

"Stop it! You're hanging on for dear life and it's all because of a handbag? You're bonkers, you know that?" Mark would never understand a woman's relationship with her purse.

April reached towards her dazed partner and urged him to take the bag and toss it to safety. Only then would she give him her hand and let him pull her up. When the operation was completed and they were both on more solid ground, although it was several stories up, April patted down her barely wrinkled black sheath, checking her hose for runs and brushing back her auburn hair.

"How do I look? Oooo, there's' my bag" April made a beeline for her Chanel bag with the gold chain. It was still just as lovely as when she bought it.

Mark just shook his head. He would never understand women.