He was the new peacock, strutting himself at UNCLE headquarters in New York, here temporarily from the London office.
His name was Sterling Faulkner and standing over six feet tall, with dark hair, steel blue eyes and dimpled cheeks; his towering presence commanded attention. A natty dresser; today he was wearing a silk shirt with a double-breasted grey suit, red silk tie, with a matching pocket square as well as a pair of Italian designer shoes.
Looking sharp and he knew it; he moved gracefully along the grey corridors with a confident swagger, heading to Alexander Waverly's conference room.
The women of UNCLE were swooning…
"Isn't he just gorgeous," they chattered like magpies, whispering among themselves in the Commissary. There was an instant pool started, betting on who would be the first to have a date with him, among other things.
"Ladies, isn't that a bit crass? April Dancer asked them, overhearing their conversation as she walked to her table with her mug of steaming tea and a tuna fish sandwich on her lunch tray.
"Hey just because you don't fool around with the agents doesn't mean we shouldn't," Wanda laughed. "Really April you need to lighten up."
"Just be careful with your little games...you know who's already the cock of the walk here," she reminded them.
"Napoleon?" He's old news," Stella giggled.
"I don't think he'll take kindly to that remark, and what about Kuryakin? Isn't he handsome enough for you, mysterious even?"
"We're tired of trying to get him to pay attention to us. He's old news too. We're on to a bigger and better man," Sheila snickered at her inadvertent height joke.
"Yeah this one reminds me of James Bond in a groovy sort of way."
"Have you seen Faulkner's partner? He just arrived this morning, and he's British too. He has sandy colored hair, and dreamy blue eyes, nice and friendly, not cold at all. And guess what, he's a snappy dresser too."
"He smiled at me and introduced himself," Wanda smiled lustily. "Said his name was Gwilym Grym. What a name! A bit odd but he more than made up for it with his friendliness. He said I should call him Will. Said he was Welsh or something like that, from a place called Aberystwyth...I think I said that right? What a tongue twister.
"Yeah, that's a mouthful just like his name."
"I'd like to have a mouthful of..."
They all started to giggle before Wanda could finish her thought.
"Where's Welsh? Stella asked.
"Are you as dumb a blonde as you look? Wanda said." It's not Welsh...he's from Wales."
"I thought you said he was from England?"
"He is. Wales is in England."
"Oh." Stella looked as wide-eyed and naive as ever. "I never heard of it."
"Stella you never heard of Yonkers either."
"Well I didn't. I'm not from around here." the ditzy blonde insisted.
"That's right you're from New Jersey."
"No I'm not! How many times do I have to remind you I'm from Saskatoon in Saskatchewan. That's Canada."
"There you go with that Canada thing again, enh?" Wanda joked. "Yeah Stella Singleton from Saskatoon Saskatchewan."
The women all burst out into a fit of catty laughter.
"You better not make fun of me or there's going to be a real kerfuffle!" Stella threatened.
Now they cackled, so much so that Stella stormed off in a huff.
"What's a kerfuffle ?" * Louise asked.
"Beats me, but it sounds funny doesn't it?
April shook her head as she continued to listen in on this heartless coffee klatch chatter.
"Retract your claws girls. Just remember Sterling Faulkner and his partner are only here temporarily. Napoleon and Illya will still be around long after they leave so it might not be so wise to burn your bridges."
"Are you kidding?" Louise went on a rant." Napoleon is such a horn-dog that he won't care as long as he can get a date and well, you know. There's plenty of us here so he won't feel completely forgotten and besides he chases a lot of women on the outside. I heard he picked one up in Macy's of all places. We're not worried about him... and Illya? He's the Ice Prince, he'll never change. So who really cares about him, he doesn't seem to care for us. Maybe he's...you know, gay?"
"No way. He does date women but isn't the womanizer like his partner," Wanda at least spoke up for Illya
"Well I still care," Sharmayne whispered. "I think he's cute, those eyes of his are dreamy and if he were an American I'd call him red-blooded, though I hear those Russians can be pretty hot-blooded."
Sheila jumped into the conversation." He hardly ever dates any of us and it's strictly a date...no hanky panky with that one. He's a lost cause as far as I'm concerned."
"Don't be so dismissive of Solo and Kuryakin ; you may regret it." April backed off, deciding to divest herself of their company and take her lunch to the office she shared with Mark Slate.
Once there, she sighed as she sat down at her desk.
"What's wrong luv?"
"Mark dear I smell trouble brewing on the home front."
Slate lifted that awful corduroy hat from his head, tossing it to the hook on the coat rack in the corner, but missed.
"What are you talking about?" He rose, picking up the hat and hanging it up this time the old fashioned way.
"Oh it's that new agent, the British one."
"You mean Sterling. He seems like a nice enough chap to me, though I really haven't spoken to him much.
"Not him specifically, but the ladies of UNCLE are already starting pooles to see who…"
Mark laughed out loud. Wait, I don't think I want to hear this; too much information April."
"It's just that the girls are taking a very negative attitude towards Napoleon and Illya too; calling them old news in favor of Faulkner and his partner.
"Oh now that could spell trouble, though Napoleon doesn't strike me as the jealous type, but let's face it; this is sort of his hen house."
"Exactly,"she smiled.
"Well that could complicate matters. Here, our airline tickets,"Mark handed an envelope to his partner. "One way luv. So I guess they're not expecting us to come back?"
"What?"
"Just joking. The other half of our team will have the return tickets with them."
"Hmmm," April pulled out a nail file from her desk drawer and began concentrating on her manicure before unwrapping her lunch. "And just where are we headed darling?"
"Brazil, São Paulo to be precise. Apparently we're the advance guard and have a little leg work to do before the rest of the team arrives."
"And just who that might be?"
"Well the lads, Napoleon, Illya and our newest additions Faulkner and Grym. From what I hear they're here just for this mission. Seems Harry Beldon insisted upon their inclusion."
"Really? That's not like Mr. Waverly to be bullied, especially with the likes of Beldon. April finally took a bite of her sandwich. "So any details on the assignment? I'm surprised we weren't included in their briefing."
"All I know is what Mr. Waverly told me when he handed me the tickets. He said we'd be fully briefed when we meet with the others after they arrive in São Paulo. Napoleon has the lead, so that's good. Our job is to arrange transportation and equipment to head up into the Mantiqueira Mountains. Now get moving on that lunch girl, we need to get going and head for the airport right quick."
April lost her appetite for her sandwich and tossed it in the trash. She took a few sips from her mug before rising from her seat and grabbing a suitcase (one of several) sitting in their office closet. She, like other Section II agents had learned to keep a bag packed and ready to go, but in April's case she kept several, each with clothing appropriate for hot or cold weather, and of course fashionable.
"All right darling, I'm ready when you are."
Earlier that morning the team of Solo and Kuryakin had been summoned to Alexander Waverly's office.
"Good morning gentlemen please come in, be seated." He waved them over without looking up from the paperwork on the table in front of him.
As soon as they reached their usual chars at the conference table the doors again opened and in walked a tall, dark-haired handsome man accompanied by a shorter sandy-haired fellow with a youthful appearance, walking just behind his companion.
"Ah, welcome gentlemen, welcome."
"Napoleon Solo, Illya Kuryakin I would like you to meet your London counterparts, Sterling Faulkner and Gwilym Grym."
"Pleased to meet you," the American smiled, offering his hand.
At first Faulkner looked at it with disdain, then finally shook it with all the enthusiasm of a slug. "So you're Solo," he said.
"Last time I looked," Napoleon cracked wise.
Grym didn't hesitate accepting Solo's hand as it was offered.
"Hello Illya," Gwilym smiled. "It's been a long time; good to see you again."
"Yes it is indeed," Illya shook his hand, but didn't offer it to the other Brit. He just nodded saying the man's name, with a curt tone of voice.
"Faulkner."
"Kuryakin," came an equally cold acknowledgement. It was evident these two had a history.
Napoleon glanced at his partner, wondering what that was all about.
"Now that the pleasantries have been observed,"Waverly interjected."If you would all please be seated."
Once settled into their chairs around the conference table Waverly began.
"I have called you all here to send you on a fact finding mission in Brazil. It has been rumoured that T.H.R.U.S.H. is yet again up to something but as to what it is, well that's for the four of you to discover."
A vid screen lowered from the ceiling, with an image of a middle aged, grey haired man coming into view. He wore wire rimmed spectacles and if anyone was asked to describe him they would have been hard pressed; he was simply ordinary looking.
"This is Professor Charles Doolittle, a noted scientist in the field of paleobiology."
"Paleobiology?"Napoleon quirked his head, not recognizing that term.
Illya as usual had a yellow note pad in front of him, his pen at the ready to take his copious notes.
"Paleobiology is the study of fossils millions of years old to answer questions about the molecular evolution and the evolutionary history of life," Waverly answered, drawing a pleasantly surprised look from the Russian.
"Yes I have read recently of possible biochemical analysis of DNA and RNA from fossil samples may offer much promise, as does the biometric construction of phylogenetic trees," Illya added his two cents worth.
"Now you're losing me," Grym spoke up."What do trees have to do with all this?"
Illya looked up from his note taking."A phylogenetic tree is merely a diagram showing the inferred evolutionary relationships among a number of biological species or other entities—their phylogeny, derived from the Greek word for tribe, clan or race—based upon similarities and differences in their physical or genetic characteristics. The taxa joined together in the tree are implied to have descended from a common ancestor.*
"Oh thank you Illya, that really explained it all to me," Will chuckled. He'd forgotten how encyclopedic the Russian could be.
Faulkner remained silent the entire time except for a little click of the tongue when Kuryakin spoke.
"Gentlemen, please we are getting off topic," Waverly interrupted." Now back to Charles Doolittle. He was last seen over a year ago in São Paulo but disappeared off the radar as it were, along with this man, Doctor Franz Baron, noted for his research in microelectronics."
Another photo popped into view, this time of a younger dark-haired man sporting a goatee.
"There is a remote escarpment located in the higher forested elevations of the Mantiqueira Mountains in Southeastern Brazil. The Serra da Mantiqueira is a part of the Mata Atlântica ecosystem. Despite the clearing of the land for livestock raising, the difficult access to many areas has made possible for sanctuaries of well-preserved forest to still exist. At its closest point, the region is only 100 km from the city of São Paulo."
"Though at the moment the temperatures in the Mantiqueira are quite cold, so you will be needing plenty of climbing and cold weather gear. Arrangements have been made for a local guide to accompany you on your ascent."
"Ascent sir?"Napoleon asked. "What does that have to do with Doolittle and Baron?"
"Yes, I want to you to investigate what Dr. Doolittle is up to as that's where we've ascertained to where he disappeared. He as no ties with THRUSH per se, but something is afoot. That we know from chatter on our feathered friend's radio transmissions."
Waverly sent around folders with three sets of airline tickets in them.
"Six tickets sir, but four are round trip and two are one way?" Napoleon held them up in his hand.
"Yes Mr. Solo, accompanying you as a backup team with be Mr. Slate and Miss Dancer."
"Excuse me sir but a bird...I mean, a lady?" Faulkner finally spoke up, looking a bit surprised.
"She is quite a capable agent; Messrs. Solo and Kuryakin can attest to that fact. As we speak, your backup team is already on their way to São Paulo, there to engage your guides and the necessary travel equipment. Now your flight leaves tomorrow morning gentlemen. I expect upon your arrival for you to check in with me and I'll want frequent progress reports. Dismissed. Oh and yes, I nearly forgot. Mr. Solo you will have the lead on this assignment."
"Yes sir, "Napoleon smiled, giving his partner a quick wink.
The four men headed out together into the corridor.
"Say Illya what do you do around here for an evening's entertainment?" Grym asked.
"I will defer that question to my partner, as I have been told I am a bit of a stick in the mud," the Russian shrugged.
"Still hitting those scientific journals, wot?" Gwilym smiled.
"Always,"Solo nodded.
"I'll have you know that he did that in jolly old England too, but at least he did it sitting in the pub with a pint or two with his mates."
"Is that so Gwilym?" Napoleon looked a bit surprised.
"Please call me Will, Mr. Solo."
"If you insist, but only if you call me Napoleon, and to answer your question. A venture out to the Purple Unicorn might be nice."
"Dare I ask what is a purple unicorn?" Will couldn't help but smile.
"It is a club of sorts, dinner and dancing are the usual fare," Illya chimed in.
"Sounds like fun. What do you think Sterling?"
"I'll pass gentlemen as I have a date with a charming young lady this evening," Faulkner smiled.
"And who might that be, may I ask," Solo quirked his head to one side.
"Lovely blonde bird, her name is Rogers. You know, Mr. Waverly's assistant."
"Lisa? You have a date with Lisa Rogers?" Napoleon's eyes went wide with surprise.
"I believe I just said that old chap didn't I? Now if you'll excuse me. I need to go up to guest quarters to freshen up and change." He saluted the three agents, heading towards the elevator.
They continued walking through the corridor heading for Napoleon and Illya's office.
"I can't believe he's going out with Lisa," Napoleon said. "She's turned me down so many times that I gave up asking. She swore she wouldn't date a Section II agent."
Illya had an obvious attitude,"That is Sterling Faulkner, he does not waste anytime making himself comfortable in another's territory."
Will smiled," I've never seen a man date so many women. He keeps them all dangling and they're always after him. Granted Sterling can be quite the charmer and never turns it off. They're drawn to him like a moth to a flame."
"That sounds very familiar," Illya said out of the side of his mouth.
"What was that you said tovarisch?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," the Russian resisted rolling his eyes.