"Ciao, bella signora! Se posso essere così avanti, mi piacerebbe per voi di avere un caffè espresso con me." (Hello, beautiful lady! If I may I be so forward, I would love for you to have a cup of espresso with me.)" The man who spoke was sitting at a small outdoor table for two at the Caffe Florian in the the Procuratie Nuove, on the south side of the Piazza San Marco in Venice. He was a good – looking man who appeared to be in his early forties with thick wavy salt and pepper hair.

The woman he was speaking to smiled and replied, "Mi scusi, mi piacerebbe avere il caffè, ma il mio italiano non è così buono. Parli inglese? (Excuse me, I would love to have coffee, but my Italian isn't so good. Do you speak English?)"

"Of course!" He stood and gallantly pulled out the chair so she could sit. "My name is Alonzo Spinella."

Holding out her hand, April replied, "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Spinella. My name is Louise Brunetti."

"Please, call me Alonzo and I call you Louise, yes?" At her nod he inquired, "You are from America?"

"Yes. My grandparents moved there from here in the twenties. I have always wanted to visit Venice and see for myself the places my Nonna told me about throughout my childhood. I can hardly believe I finally made it!"

"You are here with your husband?"

"I'm not married. I know this sounds silly, but I was hoping I might meet a nice Italian man. Like in that movie, Three Coins in the Fountain."

Alonzo ordered more espresso for himself and a fresh one for her. April, whose Italian was flawless, kept her facial expression friendly and slightly ditzy as she listened to Alonzo tell the waiter she was to have his "special" blend. Yes, we know what happens to girls who drink your special blend. She widened her smile when the cup was placed in front of her.

"Grazie, Alonzo. Sitting in this historic café, I feel like a real Venetian!" She bounced so enthusiastically that she knocked her espresso over onto the tablecloth and some dribbled onto the man's pants. "Oh! Oh, I am so sorry!" she exclaimed as she made a big show of grabbing her napkin to blot his pants legs. During the commotion, she surreptitiously dropped a fast – dissolving pill into his drink. "I'm so sorry. I was going to ask you if you would like to see my hotel room, but I guess now you…?

Alonzo's smile seemed to turn slightly predatory. "I would be honored," he replied even as he was thinking, This one is so stupid, I don't even have to drug her! He tossed back his espresso, threw some lire on the table and held out his arm for April to thread her arm through. Her hotel, the Palazzo Selvadego, was a short distance.

By the time they reached her room, the light sedative was beginning to work. "Louise, I don't know what's wrong, but I am feeling light – headed."

"Don't worry, Alonzo," she remarked offhandedly as she unlocked her door, "I'll let you get into my bed, but first…" She opened the door and Mark Slate quickly snatched him inside and placed his hand over the shocked man's mouth.

Mark twisted Alonzo's arm behind him to force him into a chair where April quickly bound him to it. "Cosa sta succedendo? Come osano fare questo a me! Mi lasci andare! (What is happening? How dare you do this to me! Let me go!)" he demanded.

April reached into her purse and removed a wicked looking syringe. "Oh, you'll be let go, Alonzo. You'll even get to sleep in my bed, but first you're going to answer some questions." She swabbed his unresisting arm with alcohol and injected the truth serum into a vein.

MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU

Two days later, April and Mark were back in New York Headquarters in Mr. Waverly's office. Napoleon was also there in his role as Chief Enforcement Agent.

"Miss Dancer, Mr. Slate," Mr. Waverly said, "I commend you both for doing an excellent job on your last mission. Thanks to your well thought out plan, twenty – seven young ladies ranging in age from fourteen to twenty – five were saved from a horrific life of white slavery. I have instructed Mr. Solo to place those commendations into your permanent files."

"Thank you, Sir," they answered in unison.

Napoleon smiled as he added, "Miss Dancer, you have once again proven your worth to the UNCLE. We had tried to break up that ring before, but whenever we sent in a male agent as an interested buyer, we would get nowhere because Spinella would only accept new customers vetted by old customers. A woman agent gave us a completely different approach."

April grinned, "Yes, because even if I weren't the right type to be a sex slave, I do look good enough for a quick roll in the hay."

Mark patted her on the shoulder and laughed. "Yes, you do. Luv."

A harrumph from their superior brought their attention back to him. "Be that as it may, Miss Dancer, that is not the only reason I wanted a female Section II. Your input is valuable, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You are free to go now, all of you." He turned around and picked up his phone.

The three agents rose as one and walked through the pneumatic door, through Lisa Rogers' office and out into the hallway. Napoleon turned to the newest team in New York's Section II and said, "I have to go meet Illya. Good work, both of you." He turned on his heel and left.

They watched him head to the elevator bank before Mark said, "He's proud of you."

"Do you really think so, Darling?"

"I know so.