"I do not like it."

Napoleon gave his partner a sideways look. They were both sitting, in folding chairs, beside an exquisitely idyllic pond. The sun was bright and warm, the breeze was slight, and the view of the eight sunbathing beauties nearby was stunning. Napoleon had claimed the chairs were because he didn't want to ruin his suit. Illya had quickly realised it was really so he could view all the girls at once.

"You need to learn to switch off sometimes, Tovarisch," the American commented. "Just enjoy this for what it is; a nice pleasant hour away from work."

"Switching off, as you put it, is dangerous in such an open space," Illya countered.

He hadn't wanted to come. He had been quite content to eat lunch in the commissary, or even at his desk. Unfortunately for him, Napoleon had got wind that several of the girls from the secretarial pool were going to take their lunch in the local park. The CEA had immediately shanghaied the other man into joining him. Illya had nothing against their current vista, and ordinarily he would allow himself to relax. However, the whole situation felt out of kilter somehow.

Something about Illya's tone and body language filtered through to the professional parts of Napoleon's brain. The Russian was naturally paranoid, though he often stated it wasn't paranoia if people really are trying to kill you. Still, his sixth sense was well developed, and rarely steered him wrong.

"What are you sensing?" Napoleon asked.

He retained his relaxed posture, just in case they were being observed.

"I'm not sure," Kuryakin replied. "I just think it's strange that you found out about the ladies coming out here."

"Hey, I'm a spy. I learn things."

"They've been doing this for the last five years that I know of," Illya told him. "They've managed to go for this long without you knowing. How did you find out?"

"What do you mean they've been doing it for five years? And how come you knew about it?"

Illya allowed himself a small smile at Solo's indignation.

"Napoleon, you know the ladies all love you, but sometimes they prefer for you not to be around, ogling."

"I've told you before, I admire, I don't ogle."

"That's beside the point," Illya stated, attempting to pull the conversation back. "How exactly did you know they were coming here?"

"I overheard Marie and Verity outside the office this morning."

Illya thought about the two women, both of whom were stretched out on the grass. Marie Mason had been with U. .E. for longer than he had. Verity Pearson was only in her fourth week. He tried to convince himself that her mistake was because she was new. The thing was, he had it on good authority that the first lesson for any new secretary was not about security, or filing, or chain of command; it was Napoleon Solo. Each woman was told he was a predator; harmless, but a predator none-the-less. Every single one of them quite happily accepted his flirtations. Most of them gave back as good as they got. Especially since a good evening out, in excellent company, was never something to be passed up. However, sunbathing in the park was, somewhat ironically, a private affair. New girls were given specific instructions not to mention it anywhere near Napoleon.

Although he hadn't had much to do with Verity, there had been something about her which Illya didn't like. He couldn't say what it was exactly, she just put him on high alert for some reason. Looking over at the group of women, Illya was shocked to see verity looking straight at him. Before he could work out what she was thinking, she pulled a gun from her purse and aimed it at Napoleon.

Illya reacted instantly. There was no time to un-holster his own weapon, so instead, he jumped to his feet and dived across Napoleon. He landed heavily on the other side, with a bleeding wound on his right temple.

While the other seven women swiftly subdued Verity, Napoleon dropped to his unconscious partner's side. Although the blood was flowing profusely, he was relieved to see there wasn't a hole. The bullet had grazed Illya's head, and while he would have quite the headache, he would be fine.

"I'm in medical yet again," Illya murmured as he came to wakefulness.

"Well if you will go taking bullets meant for someone else."

"You would prefer I hadn't?"

"You're not my bodyguard, Illya," Napoleon stated simply.

"No, but I am your partner and your friend," the Russian told him. "Even if you had been a complete stranger, I would have done the same."

Napoleon smiled. Illya was a natural born hero; not that he would ever describe himself as such. Protecting others, by risking himself, was just what he did. He never saw anything special about it. All Illya really wanted was to give other people the peace, safety and security he had never had. If that meant sacrificing himself, then so be it.

"So why was Verity trying to kill you, besides the obvious?"

Solo choose to ignore the dig, and explained that she was the sister of a THRUSH official he'd killed a couple of years previously.

"THRUSH offered her a deal," Napoleon continued. "If she agreed to infiltrate U.N.C.L.E., she would get the chance to assassinate me."

Easing himself up into a sitting position, Illya winced as his pounding head reminded him of why he was lying down in the first place.

"Why do it in such a public way?" he asked. "Surely she knows that all the staff are trained in defence."

Napoleon shrugged. "I honestly don't know. We think she may have been programmed complete her task within a certain timeframe. She died before we could get any more from her."

"Cyanide capsule?"

"In her tooth."

Illya frowned. It still didn't make a whole lot of sense to him, but it was over. The woman was dead, and hopefully she was the only one they had to worry about.

"I think another security review is in order," he suggested.

"Yes," agreed Napoleon. "We don't know what information she has been feeding to THRUSH. All the access codes are being changed as we speak."

"We're going to be busy for the next couple of days."

"I certainly am," Napoleon said as he stood up to leave. "You're staying here until tomorrow morning at least. Don't bother arguing."

He headed out of the door. "Oh, and thanks for being a suspicious Russian."