It was unusually cold that morning. The previous day had been sweltering with temperatures in the mid eighties. But this morning it was only forty-five. The drastic dip in the air had caused a thick, freakish fog bank to settle in and coupled with the heavy smoke it brought visibility down to almost zero.

Several men lay quietly on the ground watching, listening. Praying. The fog and smoke made any attempt of rescue impossible even for this small band of brave men. At this point there was very little hope of anyone coming out alive. But in their hearts they knew that if there was a way out, the two men still missing inside would find it.

Large chunks of cement rebar and wires lay everywhere. Small fires still burned and would flare up occasionally. The smell was unbearable. Rotten wood, chemicals, gunpowder and human flesh burned the senses and caused their eyes to water.

Two of U.N.C.L.E.'s best had braved the fires to go back and search for survivors. But only moments after they disappeared into the fog and smoldering ash, the sounds of another explosion rocked the entire area. It brought down the remaining two walls and what was left of the roof. Several of the men with them had tried to follow but were pushed back by the heat and flames.

His suit torn and bloody, trousers ripped and flapping in the breeze the agent stumbled his way blindly thru the rubble. He had lost one of his shoes and his light grey sock was now wet and deep crimson in color. He stopped, readjusting the handkerchief he had tied around his mouth and nose, then continued on in his search. A pile of cement shifted and he went down on one knee, his hands grasping for anything to help with his balance.

He choked a few times and called his partners name once more. The call was greeted by an eerie silence. His lungs were beginning to burn as he continued on, this time moving slower and closer to the ground. He had only gone about twenty yards when he collapsed.

The agent lay in the debris and struggled for breath. He couldn't die. He wouldn't allow it. There was still so much to do with his life. Not the least of which was bringing the THRUSH organization to its knees. He fought to raise himself when something brushed across his hand.

He leaned forward and saw a busied hand reaching out to him, the fingers broken but still trying to grasp his hand. He moved closer and saw a thick thatch of dark hair, matted with blood and dust. Below that he found two large brown eyes staring back at him. He could see the fear and pain in those eyes as he carefully began to dig.

His own fingers, now torn and bloodied, removed his jacket and tore it into strips. One he wrapped around the large gash in the forehead, the others to stabilize the broken bones. He pulled the lower half of one shirt sleeve off and used it to cover the figures mouth and nose. He heard a quite cry of pain as he lifted the body into his arms. Legs draped limp over one arm, the head fell back over the other as he stood and tried to make his way back to safety.

"It's alright," he said, his accent a comforting sound, "I found you. You're going to be alright."

The agent felt his strength renewed. It was still going to be difficult to get out. He stumbled a few times but held tight to his charge. His foot was killing him and he had now severely bruised both knees but steely determination pushed him on.

He looked at the two dark eyes begging him to stop the pain. He had to stop and shift the weight slightly only to raise another cry of agony.

Their Chief had arrived on the scene as was being briefed from the safety of his car.

"Is everyone accounted for?" he asked.

"All but two, sir. They went back in to look for survivors," the Agent said.

"Any word from them?"

"No sir…The rest of the building collapsed moments after they went back in. We haven't been able to get in to search for them due to the instability of the ground and the fires."

The Chief looked out the window towards the smoke.

"The fog should be burning off soon," he said, "Once it's cleared I want a thorough search for them. Any idea on the extent of damage?"

"The entire Satrap was destroyed as well as the small weapons cache stored in the building behind. Our explosives didn't do this though. The must have set off their own when they realized we had them trapped. A few women were inside but I don't know if they got out in time. And…one child."

"The women, not much sympathy there, they most likely knew what they were getting into. But to have a child in that environment…Only a coward hides behind a child."

The weary agent made it back to his feet and continued his journey through the devastation. He would look down and try to look as reassuring as possible at the face watching him. He tightened his grip. Below the handkerchief he had nearly bitten through his own lip to keep from crying out from his own pain. Each step sent electrical shocks from his foot up his leg. His knees were making a painful grinding noise as he moved.

Finally the heat, the body in his arms and sheer exhaustion caught up with him. He sat on a pile of blackened concrete blocks and pulled the body closer, cradling the head in his arm. He wanted to cry but didn't, wanting to remain as strong as he could. His voice cracked slightly as he softly began to sing.

"All things bright and beautiful…..all creatures…great and small…"

Something touched his shoulder. He felt a tug and got back to his feet as he was guided thru the smoke.

Everyone looked up as the figure cut through the thick fog and smoke.

The Chief left his car and walked towards the figures emerging from the smoke. He saw the tiny figure in his agent's arms and followed the two men.

Bill Del Floria guided his partner to a patch of soft grass and helped him sit down. He heard Alexander continue to sing as he cradled the child in his arms. Her tiny broken hand reached up and touched his face. Bill untied the handkerchief and pulled it away so his partner could breathe easier.

Tiny fingers touched his lips and he gave them a soft kiss. He looked into her large brown eyes again and swallowed the knot that had formed in his throat. He looked at Bill.

"She can't be more than five years old," Waverly said looking back at the child, "So innocent."

He carefully bent forward and kissed her forehead. Her tiny hand reached up once more as he held her closer. She had no idea an agent of U.N.C.L.E. was protecting her where her own father hadn't.

"Dada….love…you," she whispered.

The tiny hand fell limp and Alexander heard her take one last breath. Bill heard his partner choke back his own tears. He held his partner and shielded him from the others.

Alexander Waverly's injuries would heal.

But his heart would always carry the memory of that one little life he had tried to save.

So small.

So innocent.

"At least you got her out, Alexander," Bill said, trying to comfort his partner as he put his hand on Waverly's shoulder, "Alexander?"

Waverly opened his eyes and saw his wife Madeline kneeling next to his chair. She was softly shaking his shoulder. He felt something heavy against his body and looked down to see Nicki Solo curled up in his arms, her bear, Herman, tucked securely in between herself and the U.N.C.L.E. Chief. He smiled and kissed the child's forehead.

"Lisa just called from the infirmary. Napoleon is out of the coma and is asking for Nicki," Madeleine whispered giving her husband's arm a squeeze, "We need to get her to headquarters and her daddy."

She looked at the way he was holding the child, his old fingers brushing gently against her thick dark hair.

"Is something wrong Alex?"

He looked at her and smiled.

"Just old memories, my sweet. I'll tell you later."

Alexander felt his strength renewed and stood up with the child in his arms. His lovely wife draped his coat over them and they got into the car. Once the driver had secured them in the back, they started off.

Madeline watched her husband as he carefully rocked the sleeping baby in his arms.

And for a moment, she thought she heard the words to "All Things Bright and Beautiful."