THE MAN FROM U.N.C.L.E.
THE ODYSSEUS PROGRAM AFFAIR
By AJ Burfield
Prologue
It was a tumultuous night as the storm front passed over Essen and the surrounding countryside. Talia Alina Inova wasn't sure if she had even slept. The night had mirrored her emotions, restless and dark with flashes of tears and reality. Although she felt more exhausted than when she had first gone to bed, her mind was at ease because she had finally come to a decision.
As the morning sun broke its way through the thinning clouds a single finger of light brushed across her cheek. The golden lightness reminded her of someone she had known in another lifetime, and how the sun had reflected off his hair like corn silk. They had been so young once, so idealistic. They had proven time and time again what an excellent team they were, not only to those they helped, but also to themselves.
But as her desires had changed with time, his had not. She wanted stability. He had wanted justice in the world, which naturally lent itself towards to an uncertain future. And now, with her long sought for stability within her grasp, thoughts of him came to her and she knew he was right.
His justice was the only way to save her world.
The ray of light from the stormy sky was a message. Now all she had to do was find Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin and give him all she had gathered. She would put herself in his hands. They would be a team one last time.
Talia Alina Inova sat up and swung her legs over the edge of her opulent bed. Her feet touched the cold floor in a warning of a bitter path, but she pushed the thought aside to focus on her newly formed quest. She would follow the golden beam and find her white knight.
ACT I: The Odysseus Program
It began like all the other missions to save the world: A briefing with Waverly, airplane tickets, and the long anticipation of what was to come next as they flew towards their assignment in northern Europe. As usual, Napoleon Solo flirted madly with the stewardesses and Illya Kuryakin alternated between sleeping and reading technical briefs.
When they were in the taxi leaving the Brussels airport they began to behave a little more like one would think partners would. Solo was now all business and Kuryakin was, well, still business. He seemed to always be in business mode.
"What time is Felling expecting us again?" Solo asked, checking out the rear window to make sure they weren't being tailed.
"6:00. That's in thirty minutes," Illya replied without consulting his watch. He adjusted his tie while scanning traffic alongside.
"We should have rented a car," Napoleon growled, settling into the worn seat.
"And we both know Waverly wouldn't go for it. We're going to be here less than half a day."
They were silent for a minute. "What is it we're dealing with this time?"
"Software."
"Which is the stuff inside the hardware," Solo confirmed, still not comfortable with the intangible aspects of computers.
"Right. Think of it as the thing that controls the impulses of the brain. Thrush has the brain."
"And we want the software so their computer stays brain dead."
"I think you've got it," Illya said dryly.
"Like the Rain in Spain?" Solo quipped with a grin at his partner's blank face. After a moment, he got a response.
"What does Spain have to do with it?"
Solo rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless on American cinema."
Illya shrugged as he felt for his lock pick in his lapel. "I don't have time for movies."
"You have time to read those boring manuals." Solo pointed at his partner's bulging carry on bag.
"Lucky for you that one of us keeps up on technology. We all have our preferences for entertainment," the blond agent noted. "Yours is flesh, mine is paper."
"And you don't know what you're missing, my friend!" Solo grinned.
"As usual you've managed to twist the conversation to your favorite subject. I'm not getting into this," Illya said as the taxi bumped to a stop. "How did we get on this subject, anyway? We were talking about software!" He gathered his bag to exit the vehicle.
"So was I. Just a different kind."
As the driver unloaded the bags in front of a modest hotel, both agents surveyed their surroundings from the sidewalk and automatically noted the locations and descriptions of everyone on the street. Illya paid the driver, who snarled at the measly tip and took off with a squeal of tires. Solo raised an eyebrow at the noise, and then shook his head in resignation at his partner's thriftiness. When they picked up their bags they entered not the hotel, but the tobacconist's shop adjacent to it.
The clerk eyed them from head to toe and then nodded slightly towards the rear of the store. When they moved to the back and through a curtained-off area, a stack of shelves miraculously slid aside and the agents entered U.N.C.L.E. Brussels.
They left their bags with the male receptionist and headed down the hall. "Not the welcome I expected," Solo grumbled. His complaining was short lived as he treated a lovely passing blonde to his charming smile. "That's more like it!" he noted, his walk a little lighter as he unconsciously adjusted his tie. A slight grin touched the corner of Illya's mouth as he shook his head at his partner's brashness.
The elevator took them up two levels to the top of the building where they found Mr. Felling's office to be the only one on the floor. There was a stunning view of the city from the reception area, and the agents paused to take it in. A trim brunette with accented English acknowledged them and broke their reverie. "This way Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin." They followed her obediently, and Solo particularly willingly, to a nearby conference room where she opened the door for them. "They are expecting you."
" 'They?' " Solo repeated to no one in particular as the pair stepped into the room, led by Kuryakin. The dark haired agent almost ran into the back of his partner when the door closed behind them as Illya came to an abrupt stop just inside the door. "Welcome, gentlemen." Ruben Felling, an older, gray-haired man in a tweed suit, greeted them as soon as the door clicked shut. "Please sit and we will get started." It was exactly 6:00.
Illya did not move. Solo stepped around him and spared a glance at his partner, seeing a carefully neutral look on his face. What gave him away was the infinitesimal twitch in his jaw that indicated tenseness. Solo followed his look and saw that he was staring at the delicate, be-spectacled brunette seated at the conference table next to the Felling. Solo turned his attention back to his partner and tugged at his elbow.
"Come on, Tovarich," he said quietly, making note of his partner's behavior. Illya was rarely surprised.
The woman looked up from her files and smiled at them as they moved from the door. Illya immediately looked to his partner and moved, taking a seat as far as he could from the woman. Solo sat next to him, completely overwhelmed with curiosity, but managed to focus on the speaker.
"Do you know Dr. Reese and agent Jacob Neiman?" The agents nodded and greeted the two men seated to his left. Then Felling turned to his right. "And this is Talia Inova. She's here under unusual circumstances to help us."
Talia removed her glasses and extended her hand. Napoleon gave her his most charming smile in response and rose slightly to accept her greeting. "Miss Inova. You may call me Napoleon. Inova," he repeated slowly. "Russian?"
"Yes," she replied politely as she drew back her delicate hand and rested it on the files in front of her. "And you may call me Talia." Her accented voice was warm, soft and husky at the same time and Napoleon immediately imagined her bare shouldered in front of a crackling fire. His smile broadened a little more at its sexiness.
"Um, yes, Talia, this is my partner," he began.
"Mr. Kuryakin and I are already acquainted," she said politely. "Hello, Illya." Her tone dropped slightly at the use of his given name.
"Talia," Illya acknowledged with a tight nod. He held her eyes for a moment, then dropped his head and began fumbling with one of the manuals. "It's good to see you again." He seemed almost embarrassed, and his cheeks flushed slightly much to Solo's surprise.
Solo sat back down. "Acquainted? Really?" Illya threw him a glare.
Mr. Felling, the speaker, began the brief. "Thanks to Miss Inova, we now know that Thrush is on the threshold of implementing a new software program into their Ultimate Computer that would allow them to enter any computer at will."
"How can they do that?" Agent Neiman asked. "Aren't computers separate entities?"
"Until now, yes," Dr. Jacobs replied. "May I?" He asked Felling, who nodded for him to continue. "Right now there are computer experts world wide who are creating a system based on the ARPANET network set up by the U.S. military. The universal goal is to have an uninterrupted way to communicate in the event of nuclear war. It would be a web-like structure, connecting all computers, worldwide, that were involved via established telephone lines already in place," he explained.
"Like a highways connect countries," Solo concluded, trying to keep things simple in his mind.
"Basically, yes. But each computer has to speak the same language, and they have to share software to do that."
That lost Napoleon, and he looked to his partner for clarification. Illya said, "So if a computer connected to this system was loaded with an altered software," he stopped and re-worded his thought in mid sentence, "it would work like a viral infection does in humans. The bad programming would invade the other systems striving to speak the same language."
"Yes. And all the other computers' files would be vulnerable," Talia finished. "All information could be open to anyone fluent in the language."
"Including military secrets," concluded Solo.
"Exactly," Mr. Felling concluded. "In front of you are the files of the involved parties. Miss Inova was the one that brought all of this to our attention and will familiarize you with the background. Miss Inova?"
When Talia Inova stood she struck Solo as being a person unused to scrutiny. As her body straightened to a stand, he saw that her classically cut suit hung on a petite, almost skinny, figure. Long, dark hair was rolled into a sensual chignon with unruly tendrils that fell sensuously and unintentionally drew attention to her swanlike neck. She moved tense control to the image projected on the screen behind Felling. The picture was of an older man with a square face and unsmiling mouth.
"Arthur Danzig," she said after clearing her throat. "Currently residing in the family compound just outside Essen, West Germany. He is a powerful millionaire who surrounds himself with the brightest minds. He has a controlling interest in many industries, including new computer technology and weapons development. He has dealings world-wide."
The picture changed to a younger man with thick, curly hair, but the same recognizable jaw line. Talia now spoke with confident authority. "Arthur's eldest son, Marcus Danzig. He has been groomed to take the reins of the Danzig empire when Arthur retires. Marcus Danzig is hot-tempered, smart and cruel. He has no boundaries when it comes to protecting the family business. Arthur has the brains keep the Danzig empire solvent for decades to come; Marcus is more interested in the quick return. Together they are invincible."
Again the picture changed to a handsome, dark-haired man with a lesser version of the same jaw line and wider eyes. Talia's voice softened. "David Danzig, Arthur's younger son. A brilliant computer programmer and a bit more introverted than his father and brother, he still has the same drive to succeed. He heads up the project coding the program, which has been dubbed The Odysseus Project."
"Odysseus," Solo mused. "As in the Iliad?"
"Yes. Maker of the Trojan Horse."
"How appropriate."
"Currently, David is putting the finishing touches on the program at the compound in Essen. They have the most modern computer lab in Europe right in their basement. Potentially, the Thrush Ultimate Computer that Mr. Felling has told me about could be transferred there."
"How handy," Solo mused. "It replaced the dungeons, I suppose?"
She smiled an amused smile and her eyes sparkled. "That is probably so. It is pretty gloomy down there, but a perfect computer lab."
"It sounds like the Danzig compound is its own Thrush satrap," Neiman noted.
"In essence, yes, he does. I understand that Thrush only invites members in that can help them grow stronger. I can tell you that the Danzigs don't join organizations they take them over.
"The man that contacted the Danzigs, Emil Russo says he's on Thrush's Council. Arthur is not a fool. He knows this man Russo wants the Project in a move to control Thrush. He doesn't want the Danzigs. I also guarantee that Arthur knows more about Thrush and Russo than he lets on.
"This Program will act like the Trojan horse, hence its name. Once it's installed, Thrush will belong to the Danzigs. With Thrush's current holdings added to his, he could easily rule this hemisphere within a month and the world not long after that. Without the program, he's just another megalomaniac that would have to fight his way into Thrush. He needs this program to obtain his goal and he's told Russo very little about its full capabilities. They are under the impression that it's simply a 'tap' into other computers. It's much more than that."
The room was quiet for a moment. Finally Illya, who had been studying the papers in front of him during Talia's brief, spoke. "You seem to know the Danzigs and their compound well. Do you work for U.N.C.L.E.?" He raised his head and looked at her pointedly.
Talia moved smoothly to her seat and composed herself before meeting Illya's eyes and addressing him directly. "No. I know the compound because I have lived there for the past eight months. David Danzig is my fiancé."