CHAPTER 1

TIME: 1963

PLACE: NEW YORK CITY

Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin rode in the taxi on their way to U.N.C.L.E. headquarters. It was their first time going to the secretive location, and they had no clue what to expect. Waverly had given Solo directions. The taxi stopped in front of a

bakery shop.

"Here ya go gents..." the driver said with a distinct New York accent as he stopped the meter. Napoleon and Illya got out with their luggage, paid, and stood on the sidewalk as the taxi pulled away. They stared at the front of the bakery.

"You have got to be kidding me..." Illya commented.

"No, this is the address." Napoleon pulled a paper from his jacket. "Now we go in, and ask for Medovik?" he looked at Illya.

"...it's a tort..." He shook his head and muttered, "This is madness..."

"Nevertheless," Napoleon said, "Let's go..."

They walked in, the small overhead bell ringing. From behind a curtain came a baker

"Yes? What can I get for you gentlemen?"

"We would like..."

Illya looked to Napoleon, smirking, "two medovik...please"

At hearing the code words, the baker looked out the front window. All was clear.

"Follow me..." he escorted them behind the curtain, down a hallway, and to a door. When he opened it, it looked like a supply closet.

"Step in, gentlemen..."

Napoleon raised his eyebrows at the man.

"Please...it is fine..." the baker said.

They stepped in, he shut the door. An overhead light came on, and the floor began to descend.

"An elevator...interesting set up..." Napoleon quipped.

Illya just frowned and growled, "this is ridiculous"

Napoleon secretly agreed, but said nothing.

When the floor stopped moving, one side of the elevator opened.

There, waiting for them was Alexander Waverly. He stepped aside as they got out.

"Napoleon...Illya...welcome to U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters ". They shook

hands. In front of them was a large room full of noise and activities. There

were desks with clerks answering phones. Maps were on every wall, young secretaries

were busy passing papers around.

"Come with me," Waverly said and as he escorted them to his private office he said "This was an old abandoned air raid shelter back in the day. We converted to our new headquarters. Ingenious, wouldn't you agree?"

Napoleon and Illya politely nodded. As they made their way, Napoleon smiled at the ladies with a twinkle in his eye...and they smiled back. Illya just remained stoic, nodding his head at them shyly.

"Have a seat, gentlemen " Waverly began as he sat behind his desk.

"First let me begin by saying after Gabby lost both her father and uncle recently, I've given her time off, so you two are on your own with this next assignment..." he grinned and continued.

"Our new section of the CIA is beginning to set up locations throughout the United States, Russia, Europe and East Asia. In doing so, we came upon some disturbing information."

He opened a folder, and began to read.

"We received intelligence information that a Russian agent has defected about a week ago. After speaking with the agency, we found that this agent may be targeting another Russian agent for elimination. If true, this is not a sanctioned hit."

Waverly removed his glasses and looked up at Illya. Solo saw their looks, frowned, and asked,

"What're you saying?"

Illya answered immediately,

"He is saying that perhaps this agent is after me, Nyet? (No?)" Illya said.

Waverly nodded, and then pushed a photo toward them both.

"Do you know this woman?" Illya looked and took a deep breath.

"Yes."

Napoleon whistled. "Wow...she's a looker…" Illya gave him a dirty look.

The photo, in black & white, was of a woman named Nadia Kozlov; she was 26 years old, has long brown hair and blue eyes. She was recruited and trained in Russia by the KGB

from the age of 16, like Illya.

"We met during our training. A few years back on an assignment, I was with her younger brother who was killed, Nadia blames me. She swore she would kill me one day."

He pushed he picture back to Waverly. Solo raised his brow.

"C'mon, Peril...there must be more than that?!"

"Nyet, no more, no less..."

Waverly sat back with a sigh and waited. Illya finally began:

"A group of Russian dissidents began refurbishing discarded weapons left over from the war and the government wanted them. One evening, a group of us, under the lead of a swine named Boris Vasiliy, were sent to retrieve them, and capture those doing the refurbishing. But Vasiliy ordered everyone to open fire, killing them all. Nadia's younger brother was one of them. I refused to gun down unarmed men. Vasiliy put this scar on my temple with the butt of his gun." He stopped for a moment, "Nadia vowed to one day kill me."

"Damn, Peril...tough break" Solo commented seriously.

"And if she is, how you Americans say, "off the grid" and wants me, she will find me..." he cleared his throat.

"She's that good?" Napoleon took another look at the photo. Looks certainly were deceiving, he thought.

"Yes, Cowboy. All of our women agents are 'that good'."

Waverly cleared his throat,

"Well, I cannot have a targeted agent in the field, but I loathe retiring you so early...I am assuming desk work is out of the question?"

Solo watched as Illya slowly tightened his grip on the arm of his chair, while he tapped a finger on the other wooden arm.

"Yes, out of the question."

"May I make a suggestion?" Napoleon asked. Both Illya and Waverly waited. He cleared his throat.

"Instead of waiting for her to pick you off, why not get word out that you are at a certain location. Make her come to you."

Waverly spoke up first.

"Easy enough…yes…if you and Illya are on an invented operation we can leak the information."

"I prefer to work alone" Illya said. Solo grinned slightly; it was just like the Red Peril to do this on his own terms. Waverly heard this many times before.

"Yes, I know that Illya, but you and Solo are a team, and a team you will remain."

Waverly thought for a moment, then announced,

"I will have you both set up at the Plaza Hotel right here in New York. We will get word out where you are. We believe Kozlov has been out there for about a week; she should show her hand soon. We will monitor her movements closely and keep you advised."

Illya looked at Solo, who returned the look. They both nodded. Waverly stood and shook their hands,

"All right, gentlemen…Good luck. I will be in touch."

Illya and Napoleon left the office, carrying their suitcases.

"I am glad I didn't have to repack" Napoleon stated. Illya thought the same thing.

"You're sure about Kozlov seeking you out?"
"Definitely. She has a stubborn and tenacious nature. She will come for me."

Napoleon thought she sounded just like Illya.