All in the Family Affair

The MFU boys aren't mine, but I like to borrow them for a mission or two. Thank you to all of my friends that let me use their names for my made up characters and my proof readers. This is part of my "Lexi" series.

Chapter 1

Napoleon walked into his office the next morning looking a little worse than wear. He'd really enjoyed the party last night even if Illya and Lexi weren't there for very long after the meal was served. He had danced with several wonderful, rich, and very available ladies at the party which his attendance had been a reward after Lexi's first mission with UNCLE. Several of the women at this charity event had given him their phone numbers. There even was one very lovely lady who boldly gave him her room key which he decided not to turn down.

His eyes were red and dry from the lack of sleep and his unruly tongue felt like a thick steak while it kept sticking to the roof of his mouth. The headache that was growing behind his eyes began to pound like a big brass drum with every little noise.

Napoleon hadn't even bothered to go home before coming into work. He didn't have enough time to go across town and had already plan to shower at headquarters. With his tuxedo jacket folded over his arm, he made the short walk from UNCLE headquarters' back entrance to his office.

He was in his office long enough to grab a change of clothes, his toiletries, and a couple of aspirin for his aching skull before he headed off to the locker room to attempt to drown his hangover away. As he opened a drawer in his desk, he noticed a small box with a note on top of his desk blotter.

After grabbing the brown, glass jar and closing the desk drawer, Napoleon put the pill bottle down and picked up the envelope. The handwriting that spelled out his name was in delicate letters and then he got a whiff of perfume that was undoubtedly one of most Monica "Lexi" Lane's intoxicating formulas. When he turned the envelope over, there was lipstick in the shape of a kiss in bright red.

He brought the letter closer to his face and inhaled deeply, hoping that the perfume would ease his alcohol-induced migraine, but it didn't help him very much. His head still pounded and his mouth was dry as dirt when he remembered what Lexi had worn last night.

That was when her lab partner, George Thompson, had spilled the beans at the party about Lexi going to survival school before she had a chance to tell Illya. He and his blond cohort had just gotten back from a mission two hours prior to the party. Both Illya and Lexi were late for the party due to different work issues.

Ignoring his brutal hangover as much as he could, Napoleon opened the envelope, pulled out the sheet, and unfolded the letter.

My Dear Sweet Napoleon,

Knowing that you would not be back from your enjoyment after the party last night to see me off this morning, I have a favor to ask. Illya has been getting too soft and needs some help toughening up! Push him around, send him to the gym, and give him the most loathsome assignments there are. Tell him that I put you up to it just to make him extra grumpy for me. Please keep him well fed though, so that he'll be in shape for me when I get home. I promise to pay you back by becoming friends with your future girlfriend when I get back and then we all can spend a weekend together, my treat. Or should I say Christina Roth's treat.

Always,

Lexi

Napoleon frowned at the letter, but then winced in pain as it hurt to move his scalp because of his splitting headache. He shook his head slowly and sighed heavily while he pressed his thumb and index fingers pinch the bridge of his nose and then rub the end of his nose. He had to laugh, because of what she was asking of him would mean in their little games Illya and he played with each other.

Illya would already be irritable by her abrupt departure for survival school and be hard to work with even if she was asking for this favor or not, but this was her way to add fuel to their hidden passionate fire that burns between them as they were often more separate than together.

It also meant that both Lexi and Illya knew who he should date, even though he hadn't met her yet, and now Lexi must have known how he felt about her. He couldn't bring himself around to say it out loud, let alone admit it to himself that he had a crush on his partner's longtime girlfriend. That thought alone didn't sit very well with him, because of the embarrassment of not being able to hide his emotions from either one of them, but Illya knew him better than anyone and now, apparently, so did Lexi.

"This is just another game to you two!" Napoleon harshly spat out to no one, put the letter down, and roughly opened the box to reveal a snow globe that had scenes of the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty in it. In front of this were the words "I love New York!" in big bold letters.

Napoleon wasn't in the mood to play this game Illya had started last night about whom he should fall in love with and where he can find her. This morning, a swell of nausea threatening to erupt from his gut as he angrily palmed the snow globe, threw open his bottom desk drawer, and dropped it hard enough in it to almost break it.

Napoleon grabbed two aspirin, dry swallowed them, pick up his clothes, shower kit, and ran to the locker room. He was hoping to make it there before that bile in his stomach as he raced along the corridor.

Illya walked into Napoleon's office and collapsed on his usual chair. He'd thrown back his head and leaned so far back that he almost fell out of it.

"Tired?" Napoleon asked pleasantly, briefly looked up from his report. He'd decided to play it cool with Illya. His headache was better, but not his sour attitude.

"Exhausted," Illya stretched way back in the chair again, almost touching the floor behind him with his fingers and then brought his body up to a sitting position. "We missed you this morning at breakfast. Mark and April were heading out as well; back to England to follow a lead for Mr. Waverly. Where were you?"

"I was enjoying the company of a lovely lady from the party. Lexi knew that I wasn't going to be there. She sent me this note." Napoleon handed Illya the letter and watched him read it.

First, Illya grimaced, but then smiled as he quietly chuckled to himself. He brought the note up to his face and took in the scent of the perfume, closing his eyes, remembering a certain memory. Then, he slowly opened his eyes, looked at Napoleon, cleared his throat, and tossed the note on the desk.

"I told you she is always causing trouble. You're not going to honor her requests are you? You're my partner, not hers. "

"I haven't decided yet." Napoleon smirked and brought the snow globe out of his desk drawer to place it in front of Illya on the desk top. "Maybe, I could be persuaded not to grant her favors if you give me more information on this."

"You realize that is blackmail?" Illya laughed, picking up the globe and shook it before setting it back down to watch the snow fly in the water.

"Yes, I do." Napoleon started to reach for the snow globe when the phone rang and he skillfully picked up the phone handle instead. "Solo here, yes, sir. He's right here. We'll be right up."

"Waverly?" Illya asked as he picked up the snow globe again to shake it and place it down again before he stood up, grabbed his coat that he had slung over another chair. Napoleon put the phone down, gracefully got up from the desk, grabbed his own coat, and followed Illya out of his office.

"Ah, Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin come in and sit down." Waverly waved them to the circular table while he turned to the screen behind him, he placed his pipe in him mouth to hold before he pushed a few switches and then set it down in the ashtray. "Does this gentleman look familiar?"

Both of them looked at the man on the wall. He was a dark-haired man of medium build. He had brown eyes were strong and intelligent.

"He must be a business man," Napoleon stated.

"How so, Mr. Solo?" Waverly asked with quiet interest.

"Well, sir," the CEA cleared this throat and straightened up in his chair. "He's dressed in the usual business attire and a top designer at that."

"He looks familiar," Illya said, trying to think where. "Napoleon, do you think it's the person we saw being forcibly taken away at the charity event we were at last night?"

"Yes, I do believe you're right." He nodded and looked closer at the person's face as he tried to remember the crazy shouts from the mad man in the ballroom right before the first course was served.

"I believe that his name is Mr. Delaney," Kuryakin added. "He was physically taken out of the Hillgate High Society Social Club charity event last night at the Waldorf-Astoria right before the caviar appetizer was served. The Clinical Director, a Dr. Heaford, said it was an unexpected reaction to his medication and drinking alcohol."

"You're correct, Mr. Kuryakin." Waverly nodded, tapping the spent tobacco ashes into the tray from his pipe. "His name is Daniel Delaney and he is the CEO and co-founder at one of the biggest computer development companies in the northeast, Guardian. How is it that you two were at this charity event?"

"It was pay back from Illya and Lex… Miss Lane, sir," Napoleon smiled when he said it. "He promised an expensive meal if we successfully completed Miss Lane's first mission here at UNCLE and this event was the prize. Mr. Slate and Miss Dancer were there as well with George Thompson and his very pregnant wife."

"Mr. Kuryakin, I didn't know you could afford such an expensive reward, am I paying you too much?" Waverly looked at the young Russian with a wink on his eye and a raise of his bushy eyebrows in merriment.

"Well, sir…" Illya swallowed, his cheeks reddened ever so slightly. "Miss Lane helped with that part of the bargain. I just offered her funds as an incentive to Mr. Solo."

"I'd a feeling that is what had happened. Bribery can be a very good incentive. " Waverly smiled and then cleared his throat as he continued on to what they were talking about. "Now back to business. The reason I have you two up here is, because a relative of Mr. Delaney is concerned about him. As you say, he was quite publicly taken out of the party last night and sent to Hillgate Hospital and Sanitarium to recover from an adverse reaction to his medications."

"Had he been ill?" The blond asked, following Waverly's train of thought, and turning into his scientific persona.

"You would think so, but according to his close relative, he was on no medication for physical or mental health until this last month. His niece said that all these changes in his mental health have happened just recently, about the same time that Mr. Delaney became a member of the Hillgate High Society Club. It was if they wanted to control him and ultimately his company."

"Do we have any information on the Society Club?" Solo asked.

"The most we can find out at this time is that its club members are personally involved in the administration and running of the hospital and sanitarium. It's a very elite private healthcare facility that many well-to-do families go. A lot of old and new money; a good place for THRUSH to try to recruit financial backers I would hazard a guess."

"Can you tell us more about Mr. Delaney's niece?" Napoleon asked.

"Her name is Caitlin Delaney and Mr. Delaney's sole heir apparent. She said that she was told by her uncle and father that if she was ever in danger to contact me. She called me last night after hearing the news about Mr. Delaney's outburst and internment to Hillgate Sanitarium."

Waverly tugged another switch to put her photograph up on the screen, replacing her Uncle's. She was a lady in her late twenties with a medium athletic build with short strawberry-blond hair in the lasted fashion. Her tan skin showed off her white teeth and alluring green eyes.

"What do we know about her?" Napoleon asked. He like the look of this woman. There was something about her that drew him to her face. He couldn't put his finger on what why he felt that way; it was different than most women he was attracted to. He knew that he would have to meet her.

"Mr. Kuryakin?"

Waverly referred to the blond agent while he started to repack his pipe with tobacco. Napoleon looked at his partner with interest in why he would know this woman and he didn't. Kuryakin in returned looked back at Waverly and purposely ignored Solo's quizzical look.

"Sir, I've read her proposal and the development of a protection program for government information systems that would currently help halt unauthorized access to that organization's computer data base. She's currently Guardian's top representative and salesperson. She has the access to obtain contracts with several governmental departments here in the United States, the United Nations, several National governments, and to UNCLE.

"What she says her company can provide in computer security is very impressive." Illya continued on. "But, it's a costly service due to the ever increasing changes in technology."

"Yes, someone is always building a better way to break into our computer systems." Waverly agreed. "To build a better mouse trap, eh, gentlemen?"

"Sir, even though I didn't meet her personally, I'd have to say that I find her knowledgeable and trustworthy in regards to her concern for her uncle's well fair and the company's. Her background checks out. She graduated from Columbia School of Business and has taken over running Guardian from her father and now, her uncle. Her father, Thomas Delany, was killed in an automobile accident just last year."

"I agree with you, Mr. Kuryakin." Waverly sat back, lit his pipe, and puffed. "That's why I am going to have you two checkout her concerns. I also want to find out if Hillgate Hospital and Sanitarium has been used by THRUSH to kidnap prominent people around New York to do their bidding or if this all is just a coincidence."

"Miss Delaney is planning to arrive at noon. Take her lunch, gentlemen, and find out her feeling about Hillgate Sanitarium. See if someone can go there to visit Mr. Delaney and check his true condition. I'll want a report to your plan of action and any information you have found in the morning. That's all, gentlemen."

"Yes, sir," Solo nodded, he and Kuryakin got up from the table and left Waverly's office.

"So, my smart Russian partner," Napoleon began while he and Illya walked back toward the elevator that led them to their offices two floors below. "Tell me what you know about Miss Delaney."

"Napoleon, I've already told you and Mr. Waverly in his office." Illya said vaguely while overly dramatically shrugged his shoulders and pushed the down button on the gray, metal wall near the bank of elevators. "I was at a computer symposium and saw her demonstration of the data blocker computer program by Guardian, the Pass Key. It was a very impressive presentation."

"No, not what she was selling, but more about her," Napoleon said in exasperation when he looked sideways at him and swore he caught the blonde's lopsided smile. "You know it's a good thing that you have Lexi brain washed in believing that she's in love with you, because all you ever think about are gadgets, explosives, and computers."

"It's not true." Illya acted as if his pride had been hurt. "You have it all wrong."

"I do?" Napoleon asked, the elevator doors opened and they walked out.

"Yes, I think of explosives, gadgets, and then computers. Your order isn't correct."

"I beg your pardon." Napoleon stopped and nodded a mock apology to his amused partner. "My, you are in high spirits today. I hope you got enough attention last night to keep you in this mood for the next twelve weeks?"

"Last night and this morning, thank you, but I wouldn't count on it if I were you."

"One can only hope." Napoleon sighed when they reached his office; they sat at the desk, pulled out a tablet and began to jot down notes to begin gathering information for their new mission. Illya couldn't help it, but picked up the snow globe up again to shake it. It helped him think to be distracted by having something in his hands that he could play with.

"We've about an hour before Miss Delaney arrives. I'll call Records and Research to give us what they have on Hillgate Hospital and Sanitarium, Daniel Delaney, Caitlin Delaney, and the any newspaper articles on the comings and goings of the social elite that are registered members of the Hillgate High Society Social Club."

"I also think that we should compare that list to all those that might be known as THRUSH agents," Illya said idly he traced the welded joint of the snow globe with his index finger.

He was lost in careful thought, but not of what was going on in the office. He was trying to remember the look on Daniel Delaney's face, what he had cried out as he resisted his pursuers, and who were the people around him trying to calm him down. The last image he focused on was the doctor who explained the outburst.

Clinical Director Andrew Heaford MD appeared to be a man in his early thirties. He wore round, black glasses that perched on a prominent nose. His intelligent blue eyes were piercing and added a sense of power to his ultra-short crew cut that most military men wore even when they were no longer in the service. Illya had a feeling that he had possibly served in the Korean War. Dr. Heaford looked lean and tough; someone who could throw a well-placed punch from a history of military combat training. He was someone to watch.

"What are you thinking?" Napoleon asked finally when Illya put down the snow globe and sat up in his chair. He, himself, put done the pen and leaned back in his own chair.

"I'm thinking that I need to visit Dr. Andrew Heaford's office without an appointment. Sometime, late at night, where there are less distractions. Let's add him to our list as well to check out. I've a feeling about him."

"Dr. Andrew Heaford? Why does that name sound familiar?"

"He is the Clinical Director at Hillgate Hospital and Sanitarium; at least that is what he told us before dinner was served last night while he explained Mr. Delaney's outburst and where he was going to be taken care of."

"Ah, now I remember." Napoleon nodded and picked up the phone to dial the research department. "Hello, Kimberly? Napoleon here, I need your information gathering skills…"