A group of people proudly stood beside the man who, for many years, had run their training program. Now they were together on a small stage set up in the gymnasium at that secret facility known as Survival Island. One of the men present was the CCO of U.N.C.L.E. Northwest, though it was rare for him to leave headquarters in New York, but this was a special occasion.
It was graduation day and a wizened Jules Cutter sat in his wheelchair, having come out of retirement just for this ceremony. The man was in his nineties, but he looked much younger than for a man of his years. He looked pleased to have the man he considered one of the the best candidates to ever graduate from Survival School at his side, and that person was Napoleon Solo.
Today there would be a special award, one named after the man responsible for all of this, and that was the late, great Alexander Waverly. It would be given to the top candidate in the graduating class; voted upon by their fellow recruits.
A silver-haired Solo who was now the Continental Chief, a position he had long been groomed for, stepped up to the dais. The man looked as dapper as ever and he cleared his throat, gazing out at thirty pairs of eyes all focused on him.
They were fresh-faced men and women, and for a moment he tried to recall ever having being that young...
"I'm not accustomed to speaking to larger groups of people," he flashed that smile for which he was so famous, "but here goes. You have just completed one of the most arduous training courses in the world, and now you'll be given your assignments throughout the Command."
Napoleon paused for a moment, taking a sip of water from a glass on the podium, and after clearing his throat again, he continued.
"I'll be honest...some of you may not survive your first year in the field, though we hope you all do. That's a possibility we all accepted when we made our decision to join the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. Some of you will face danger on a daily basis, but it's all for the ultimate good of maintaining the safety of the world. Those who accept their assignments in Section II must be willing to bravely greet death as a consequence many times throughout your career. Eventually death becomes like a shadow, following you wherever you go."
"That's a frightening thought; I know first hand. Things may have changed a bit since I was a brash young field agent, but the danger still remains. It's less cloak and dagger...but it's still a nasty world out there when it comes to doing your , you must face what ever comes your way with bravery, in spite of your fears."
"A man once said, Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you'll be traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey." *
"Duty, honor, and fidelity are our motto…courage is our shield. Be proud of what you have accomplished here and will accomplish as agents of U.N.C.L.E."
The graduates applauded loudly, and ceased only when Solo raised his hand in protest.
"That's the lofty part of my speech," Napoleon smiled…"now here's the reality."
"When all is said and done at the end of the day all we have is ourselves. Nothing else matters, not material things, money, possessions...just us in our own skins….and the friends we make along our journey."
"We go out into a dangerous world to thwart evil in whatever form it may take, and keep everyone and everything safe from it as best we can. Ours is a thankless task in the end. No parades, no public acknowledgement or few accolades for us. Not that we want them since we're just doing our jobs, and happy to come home alive with our hides intact...well almost intact." Napoleon cast a quick glance to the side of the stage.
"We eat, drink, sleep, make love and hopefully have a few laughs with that special friend or two we've made in life, and then we go off and start all over again. We lie, cheat, steal, and yes...kill; we do what we have to in order to get the job done."
"Why do we do it? Well if no one else does, then the world would be doomed. I know that sounds a bit egotistical, but it's true. Somebody has to fight the good fight as Alexander Waverly did for so many years. He was an agent in the field once, just like you'll be, though as I said, things have changed a bit. Mr. Waverly was canny enough to live to tell his tales and create this marvelous organization devoted to preserving peace throughout the world."
"Still, one constant remains...good versus evil. Never forget that."
"We sacrifice ourselves for the greater good, though we don't want you to go out in a blaze of glory. My hope, mind you...just an inkling of hope is that you all make it to the age of 40. My wish for you is a long successful career with U.N.C.L.E. and a happy 40th birthday celebration. Go out and do it right because you're the good guys, ahem...and gals."
Napoleon stepped away from the podium to a rousing round of applause and another man appeared from the side of the stage; a no longer so blond Russian who climbed the steps with a bit of a limp, using a cane for extra support. He was a little heavier than he'd been in his early days with the Command, but his face remained unchanged as he still retained his boyish good looks.
He came forward to the microphone while holding a small, royal blue velvet case in his hand.
"May I add my congratulations to you all as well. I would be hard pressed to say better words than Mr. Solo," Illya Kuryakin, the Division Chief of Security nodded.
"It is indeed my honor to present the first 'Alexander Waverly Award' for excellence. You the members of this graduating class unanimously voted for one of your fellow classmates who exhibited outstanding ability, creativity and teamwork while training here on Survival Island. This person will have the distinction of being assigned to Section II in our New York headquarters. Let me add that we will be keeping a close eye on this candidate who could perhaps become a CEA one day; as has been a tradition of the top graduates of Survival School to do so."
"Not everyone achieves this honor, but many have...though I believe our current CEA Mr. August Dancer plans to remain in the position a bit longer," Illya let go a crooked smile, looking at the auburn-haired agent who stood in the aisle alongside the students. He was the spitting image of his mother...
The veteran agent, no longer referred to as 'the Russian,' opened the velvet case he still held; revealing a gold medal with the U.N.C.L.E. vector design emblazoned upon it.
"And the honor, I am proud to announce, goes to ..."
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* quote: Ambrose Redmoon