It wasn't hard to spot the man targeted for surveillance. As he came out of the bar on the corner of Main and Broadway, aptly named Main and Broadway Bar, Nikko Sparks had a distinctly booze inspired wobble to his walk. The poor guy had no idea he was being watched by two sides of the law and order business, and was clueless as to the way his life was going to change.
Illya Kuryakin watched Nikko weave ever so slightly in his journey up the street towards his little apartment; the apartment where Napoleon Solo was searching for the code book that the hapless Sparks had mistakenly taken when he robbed the residence of THRUSH's local chief. Thomas Kunkle had chosen to live in this little town specifically because it was off the radar of law enforcement agencies such as Interpol and UNCLE. When a local petty thief named Nikko Sparks decided to burglarize the home of Darbyville's newest affluent resident, he hadn't known just how much trouble a man could be in.
He was about to find out.
As Napoleon rummaged through Spark's belongings in a less than gentle way, Illya was trailing the man from a distance. It was a stroke of luck that the Russian happened to see someone else who seemed to be interested in the subject; the THRUSH was someone known to Kuryakin from a previous encounter. Thankfully Illya had been in disguise and was still an unknown to the man who was probably intent on killing Nikko.
Napoleon opened his communicator at the first warble.
"Illya? What's up, I'm not finished here."
"An old friend of ours is following Sparks. He will most likely want to get him inside the apartment. I'm right behind him, so …'
"Yeah, I'll be ready. Just don't be late tovarisch. I'd rather not have to include another damaged suit on my expense report. Capiche?" Illya rolled his eyes at the unnecessary qualification. Some things never changed.
"I saw that Illya. Now, let's concentrate on the other guys."
As Napoleon smiled at his partner's obvious annoyance he heard a key in the door lock, turning only after a failed attempt to target the keyhole accurately.
"Game's on, it seems." Napoleon smiled again, an arrogant expression of confidence seen by no one but conveyed in his posture as Nikko Sparks entered and was met by a gun aimed at his mid-section.
"Hey! Whazthiz'bout? Whoo'r you?" His speech was slurred, another indication of the recent bout of drinking that had marked Nikko's sense of accomplishment.
"Oh, I don't think you need to know my name… Nikko.' The smile on Solo's face sent a chill down Nikko's spine.
"The only think you need to know is that someone else is going to enter this room with the express purpose of killing you. I can save you from that, but you need to do something for me."
Nikko's eyes were wide open now, his senses suddenly reinvigorated by the threat to his life. This fellow looked like he might just shoot him on the spot, but if his brain was working working right, he could also save him.
"What do you want from me? I don't got nothin'.' At Napoleon's raised eyebrow a sudden rush of recognition washed over Sparks.
"Is this about that job I did? That big house? I don't have the stuff anymore, I fenced it." That was almost the truth. He had kept one thing, the item both UNCLE and THRUSH sought to obtain.
Napoleon saw something, knew that Sparks understood now what he was after.
"I think you know what I want. And unless you give it to me, the man who followed you here is going to show up at the door and …"
"Too late mates. I'm already here." The accent betrayed his origins, and in an instant Nikko Sparks knew he was a dead man. That house had been so tempting, but nothing was worth this.
"Hey man, I have what you want. I don't want it no more, it's yours. Really, just let me go and …" Bang! Nikko fell to the floor with an expression of confusion that asked a million questions. His shoulder was on fire, but to his own amazement he wasn't dead.
"How kind of you to give up so easily.' The THRUSH pointed his gun at Napoleon, waving it slightly to indicate he should sit down on the sofa.
"Now, I don't know what you want, or who you are… UNCLE? Right, you must be from UNCLE. Well, that's too bad for you. Nikko, where's the picture?"
Nikko's gaze went from the blood on his hand to Napoleon, across the room and finally to a sky blue canvas hanging above a small fireplace.
"Ah, that's what I'm after. You know mates, I could let you live but somehow…"
That was all he said. A sleep dart found its mark in the intruder's neck and with one yelp and a last flailing effort to be in control, he went down in a heap.
Napoleon brushed back the errant hair on his forehead as he looked toward the doorway where Illya stood, gun in hand.
"Thanks partner, that's what I call being in the nick of time." Illya smirked, not yet shed of the conversation earlier.
"Isn't it just…' He walked over to the painting and removed it from the place of honor on Nikko's wall.
"Now, shall we leave him here or is he coming with us?" Napoleon thought about for a few seconds before replying. Nikko was watching the two men, glancing periodically at the fallen THRUSH agent, wondering if he was alive.
"I can't really blame him for robbing THRUSH; I mean, he actually did our job for us." Illya nodded at the idea of a thief making their jobs just a tad easier.
"You may be on to something Napoleon. So he goes with us?" They both looked at Nikko, who was just beginning to catch on to what they were saying.
"What? You want me… are you talking about me doing jobs for you? And who are you anyway? Is he dead?" Nikko pointed to the man on the floor, still unsure about the situation and whether or not he would live through it.
"He is very much alive, merely asleep… for several hours most likely. We are from the U.N.C.L.E., and it is possible that you are not entirely without a future Mr. Sparks. Illya?" Kuryakin helped get Nikko up from the floor. He was still bleeding, but the bullet had passed through for a clean shot. Nikko would live to steal again.
As it turned out, Nikko Sparks was taken back to headquarters and easily persuaded to work on the side of law and order, all in exchange for not being prosecuted or turned over to THRUSH for something far worse. Alexander Waverly enjoyed watching the transformation, and several years down the line would look back on the recruitment of the wayward Mr. Sparks as a highpoint of sorts. His skills were remarkably strong, and his eventual sense of loyalty to the Command elicited a commitment that would endure for several decades.
After all, a good portion of what Waverly's agents did for law and order was actually outside of the law. What better recruit than someone who was already amenable to that sort of business?
Nikko found his life's work training agents how to steal better.