And we must look unto ourselves, unto the depths of our souls.~ Haille Sellassie
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"Would that his words come true"
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Though it was a sunny afternoon both Napoleon and Illya were glad to make their exit from the old, overcrowded cemetery, filled with Spanish moss and the smell of musky, aged decay.
The last time they had been there, it had been in the dead of night; dealing with a priestess named Mama Luc, a voodoo doll and a demon called Sousson-Pannan. It was an experience neither of them wanted to repeat.
Illya suddenly stopped.
"That reminds me, you still owe me forty dollars from the last time we were here to rid you of that voodoo curse." *
Napoleon's face flushed with embarrassment, having forgotten about the debt; he quickly looked at his wristwatch, changing the subject.
"Gee will you look at the time? We need to hustle if we're going to make our flight...you never know with New Orleans traffic."
Illya flashed his evasive partner a smirk. "I thought as much."
They caught a taxi, returning to their hotel in the French Quarter to retrieve their luggage; finally heading out to Lakefront Airport, four miles northeast of the the city in Orleans Parish.
The terminal building's interior retained much of its original ornate 1930's decor, but the charming art deco exterior had been obscured for decades by a "bomb-proof" facade installed after World War II. At the start of the 1960s, thick concrete panels were added to the main terminal building to turn it into a bomb shelter in reply to the nuclear tensions of the Cold War.
They seated themselves in the dining area of the small cafe, intending to have a quick bite to eat and some drinks before their flight to Washington D.C. took off in about forty five minutes.
Napoleon's communicator chirped and he withdrew the device from his pocket, whispering into it quietly as he lifted a menu that the waitress had just dropped off, hiding behind it.
"Solo here."
"Hi Napoleon," answered Lisa Rogers. "Mr. Waverly asked me to let you know of a change in plans. You're to return to New York immediately. Seems there's a big address scheduled at the United Nations and U.N.C.L.E.'s presence has been requested. Your new airline tickets are waiting for you at the counter... the flight leaves in two hours."
"Understood, out." He closed the communicator, slipping it back into his inside jacket pocket.
"Good," Illya slyly smiled, "Now we have time for a proper meal and in lieu of the forty dollars you still owe me, you will pay for mine."
"Fine," Napoleon smiled back at him, knowing he could put it on his expense account and still have cash in his wallet.
"And no expense account, I gave you cash, you pay in cash and then we are even." Illya spoke a familiar Italian word to his partner. "Capisce?"
"Si capiche, è coglione Russo_ I understand, you smart ass Russian. Go ahead, order what you want, but you pay the difference if you go over forty dollars."
And order Illya did. As an appetizer he selected Shrimp Remoulade, followed by fresh turtle soup, his main dish, Crawfish Étouffée and a side of Maque choux, a traditional dish of southern Louisiana containing corn, green bell pepper, tomatoes, onion, garlic and celery with bite-sized portions of crawfish and shrimp. For dessert he had an order of peach cobbler with Café au lait.
Napoleon did not possess an appetite to match his partners and had a simple order of quiche and a slice of pecan pie with coffee.
When the check arrived, he couldn't believe it. Illya's portion of the meal came to exactly forty dollars. He had no idea how the Russian had managed it.
"Always have to have your pound of flesh don't you?" He grumbled, pulling out the cash from his wallet.
"Are you insinuating I am some sort of shylock, when I am merely ensuring that a debt owed to me is paid in full?" The Russian smiled sardonically. He pulled out his wallet, tossing down the tip on his portion of the dinner.
"Will you look at that, no moths," he quipped.*
"Cute, but you'll never let me forget will you?" Napoleon sneered.
"Oh I will, the debt has been satisfied, along with my appetite." Illya wiped his mouth with a linen napkin, quite appeased now on several levels.
"What I want to know, is where you put it all away?" Napoleon asked. "You stay as thin as a rail no matter what I see you devour."
Illya pointed his finger, about to remind his partner of his physiology.
Napoleon raised his hand. "Yes, I know, I know...high metabolism."
The boarding for their flight to New York was called, just as the agents checked in at the counter to pick up their tickets. Walking out across the tarmac to their plane, climbing the steps and disappearing inside; they carried only garment bags and small travel cases with them, leaving nothing to be checked.
They settled into their seats for the two and a half hour flight and once the jet leveled off, a stewardess came round to take their drink orders, Scotch on the rocks for Napoleon and for a change of pace, a dirty martini made with Stoli for Illya.
"This is something new," the American remarked as he watched partner sip the salty drink
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"My body is craving sodium, what better way to take care of both my needs at once," Illya smiled, popping an olive into his mouth.
"Leave it to you to make a vodka martini practical."
They conversed for a few minutes, until Illya nodded off to sleep, never one to miss an opportunity for a cat nap. Napoleon flirted with the three stewardesses, striking gold as he saw it, since all of them gave him their phone numbers. He set up dates with each of them in New York over the next few weeks, barring any extended assignments, he planned on keeping those dates.
After another Scotch and some extra pillows tucked behind his head, he too dozed for the duration of the flight.
They landed at Kennedy, with an U.N.C.L.E. car waiting for them at the Continental Airlines terminal having been given instructions to take them directly to headquarters.
"Glad we took a nap," Napoleon mumbled.
"No rest for the wicked," Illya paraphrased the saying, cocking his eyebrows.
Traffic on the Expressway was surprisingly light, getting them from the airport to headquarters in under a half hour.
They walked down the familiar steps of Del Floria's, hearing the welcoming tinkle of the brass bell as the door to the shop was opened. Napoleon gave Del a little salute a they passed him, heading to the dressing room as the steam press was lowered with a hiss.
Illya parted the curtain, turning the coat hook, and entering Wonderland, as he sometimes jokingly called headquarters.
Wanda was seated at the desk and greeted them cheerfully, pinning Napoleon's badge to his pocket, and though Illya waited for that to happen to him, it never did. She handed him his badge, and he pinned it on himself.
"Mr. Waverly is expecting you." She smiled, batting her eyelashes at Napoleon.
"Wanda, my dear, could you see to it our luggage is brought to our office?" He asked, tapping her nose with the tip of his finger.
"Oh, sure Napoleon, anything for you," she answered dreamily."We still on for Saturday?"
"Wouldn't miss it," he flashed his charming smile to her.
"I hope that does include my luggage as well?" Illya asked.
"Oh, yes. Sure Illya no problem."
They disappeared through the secondary entrance, heading directly to the Old Man's conference room.
"You realize you also booked a date with that airline stewardess for Saturday," Illya sniggered.
"I know."
"Napoleon, you are incorrigible." He couldn't help but smile at his partners escapades with the ladies, as long as they didn't interfere with an assignment. When they did, it was then his attitude of intolerance would rear it's impatient head.
The pneumatic doors opened with efficient silence, and they entered Waverly's inner sanctum, stepping up to the table and seating themselves wordlessly.
"Good afternoon gentlemen, I take it Agent Ruggles memorial and funeral went well. Damn shame, he was a good agent and a better man. He will be sorely missed." Waverly did not wait for a response, switching topics instantly.
"Now to the matter at hand. We have been asked to make our presence known at the United Nations this evening as there are security concerns. H.I.H. Haile Selassie is scheduled to address the general assembly. There are the normal concerns, but a possible threat against his life has come to light. We and U.N. security will see to it that no harm comes to Mr. Selassie while visiting the United Nations.
"I take it the threat is credible." Illya said.
"It's non-specific, but the U.N. Council deemed it sufficient to warrant the extra protection. H.I.H.'s personal security detail will be present as well. Selassie, though he refutes it, has been elevated to near god-like status in some parts of the world and there are those who would like to take him down to prove his humanity and thus undermine his African Unity movement."
"Yes, among followers of Rastafarianism that emerged in Jamaica during the early 30's. It was influenced by Marcus Garvey's "Pan Africanism" movement. They took the Emperor's pre-coronation name of Ras Tafari for their name. Haile Selassie was born Lij Tafari Makonnen "Lij" translating literally to "child", and served to indicate that he was of noble blood. He would later become Ras Tafari Makonnen; "Ras" translates literally to "head" and is often rendered in translation as "prince". Tafari, his given name, in Amharic means "one who is respected", while Haile literally means in Ge'ez "Power of" and Selassie means Trinity... that is, Haile Selassie, Amharic for "Power of the Trinity," his coronation name in 1930, it was also his Christian baptismal name as an infant."
"He is viewed by the Rastafari as the messiah, leading the peoples of Africa and the African diaspora to freedom. His official titles are Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah and King of Kings and Elect of God, and his traditional lineage traces from King Solomon of Israel and the Queen of Sheba. These notions are perceived by Rastafarians as confirmation of the return of the messiah in the prophetic Book of Revelation in the New Testament: King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah, and Root of David. Rastafari faith in the incarnate divinity of Selassie...what better way undermine their beliefs and proving the white man supreme over the black man than to destroy the perceived godhead of the movement. If it is some sort of supremacist organization that is plotting against him? He has many enemies who are anxious to overthrow his monarchy."
"Yes, very interesting points, Mr. Kuryakin, well put indeed."
"But Selassie is Catholic," Napoleon interjected, "How could he believe he's god?"
"Selassie himself denies his divinity," Illya replied. "However, he was going to tell the Rastafarians he was not god, but then decided against it, saying, "Who am I to disturb their belief? Rather clever of him." The words 'The Lion of the Tribe of Judah hath prevailed'... Genesis 49:9, should be seen as the Imperial motto, in the same way that 'Honi Soit Qui Mal y Pense' is the motto of the British ruling house. He also declared that "the person of the Emperor is sacred, his dignity inviolable, and his power indisputable."
"Enough discussion about the Emperor, gentlemen. My only concern is that he not be assassinated on our watch," Waverly said, looking at the wall clock. "You'll have just enough time to get yourselves changed and head over to the U.N. Plaza to meet with their security. Good luck, and I will presume that all will go well this evening. Now dismissed."
The agents headed to the locker room, dressing into fresh suits and stopping by the commissary for a quick cup of strong black coffee; both of them anticipating it was going to be a long night.
"Now how did you know our assignment would involve Haile Selassie?" Napoleon asked as he sipped his coffee.
"I did not," Illya said, opting for a cup of tea sweetened with some seedless raspberry jam.
"Okay, just where did you find the time to do all that research if you didn't know about the assignment? You never left my side."
"Napoleon, I have been following the Emperor's reign for some time, as I find him an interesting individual. He is very much involved with human rights, and has banned slavery within his kingdom...that was quite meaningful to me, as you recall what happened to me in Morocco." **
"Well your knowledge of him was impressive," Napoleon said as they stepped onto the elevator."
"He is an impressive man." Illya smiled, "though not without his weaknesses."
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They headed up Fifth Avenue to the U.N. complex; meeting with the in-house security team as well as Selassie's people. Napoleon had the foresight to order a back up team of U.N.C.L.E. agents, sending them ahead and scattering them throughout the assembly.
As the time approached, he and Illya positioned themselves in one of the translation booths, located on a secondary level and overlooking the large council room. This gave them a birdseye view of everything and everyone there below them.
The chamber began to fill with delegates and once they were all settled into their proper seats, H.I.H. Haile Selassie appeared, standing at the tables behind the council members, who were seated at a table. The slightly built man was dressed in full regalia, a white military uniform and a dark cap on his head, beside him dressed in a darker uniform was his prime minister.
His voice was strong, for such a small man, and he began his speech to the general assembly.
"Today, I stand before the world organization which has succeeded to the mantle discarded by its discredited predecessor. In this body is enshrined the principle of collective security which I unsuccessfully invoked at Geneva. Here, in this Assembly, reposes the best - perhaps the last - hope for the peaceful survival of mankind."
The U.N.C.L.E. agents watched carefully as they too became entranced by the speech. His words were eloquent, and struck home to both Napoleon and Illya; suffice to say, the man was a brilliant orator.
"The record of the United Nations during the few short years of its life affords mankind a solid basis for encouragement and hope for the future. The United Nations has dared to act, when the League dared not in Palestine, in Korea, in Suez, in the Congo..."
He spoke for some time, and finally concluded his speech, saying...
"Men search the pages of history for solutions, for precedents, but there are none. This, then, is the ultimate challenge. Where are we to look for our survival, for the answers to the questions which have never before been posed? We must look, first, to Almighty God, Who has raised man above the animals and endowed him with intelligence and reason. We must put our faith in Him, that He will not desert us or permit us to destroy humanity which He created in His image. And we must look into ourselves, into the depth of our souls. We must become something we have never been and for which our education and experience and environment have ill-prepared us..."
The translators worked furiously, German, Greek, French, Italian and so many other languages... interpreting his words to the delegates, repeating over and over specific phrases, particularly the concluding lines of his speech.
Illya's ears perked up at the Russian translation, listening carefully to see if it was accurate.
"Мы должны стать больше, чем мы были: смелее, больше в духе, больше в перспективе. Мы должны стать членами новой расы, преодолевая мелкие предрассудки, благодаря нашей конечной верность не нации, но к нашим ближним внутри человеческого сообщества_we must become bigger than we have been: more courageous, greater in spirit, larger in outlook. We must become members of a new race, overcoming petty prejudice, owing our ultimate allegiance not to nations but to our fellow men within the human community."
"Wow, that was some speech." Napoleon muttered, as Selassie was escorted safely from the Assembly.
Illya said, equally impressed, "Would that his words come true and inspire the world leaders to ascend to the greater good. We might be out of a job then, would we not? It is unfortunate though, people will not heed his words." Illya shrugged pessimistically.
"I suppose, even if they did tovarisch, we'd still have T.H.R.U.S.H. and an endless array of megalomaniacs to deal with wouldn't we?" Napoleon said as they exited the translation room.
"Thank you for reminding me of that Napoleon."
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* ref "That Voodoo That You do So Well"
** ref "The Moroccan Affair"
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Quotes are excerpts from Haile Selassie's speech to the U.N. delivered on October 6, 1963.
