Present Day

At three, I had brain fever or something like that. For a week, I was in a near coma. It was almost always fatal, but I pulled through without any effects. The doctors couldn't explain it and I ended up in many medical journals.

At seven, there was an accident and I was left in a coma from which the doctors said I would never awaken. Yet I did. I sat up and asked my mum for a drink of water. She passed out. There were, again, no side effects with the exception of a scar running along the side of my face at my temple. I thought it made me look like the Frankenstein monster and embraced that image for several Halloweens to come. Another mess of medical journal write ups followed.

At nine, I was hit by lightning and then again at eleven. The doctors said that for someone to live through that once was a miracle, but twice? Hello, Medical Journals, my old friends.

Now, when something like this happens to a guy, there are but three possible outcomes. Either you lock yourself in your room, terrified at what might happen next. You get really religious or, as it was in my case, you figure that you were pretty much invincible.

That way of thinking, my stupid period, nearly got me killed again, but, hey, I'm a guy. Forty – eight stitches and a few months in a body cast later, I realized there was a thin line between being lucky and stupid. It tempered my attitude and made me realize that life, especially mine, would be very short if I wasn't careful.

So, I settled down and somehow managed to get into a decent enough college. I majored in business and discovered I had a nature acuity for making money. Case in point – my business. Somewhere along the way, I discovered a love of spelunking. That's caving, to some folks. That's when you head down into a cave and negotiate the various obstacles. It's not for the claustrophobic or anyone afraid of the dark. It's scary, hard, and the best time you could have fully dressed. At least it is in my opinion.

I started organizing weekend trips for my friends and colleagues. Then there were friends of friends and then total strangers coming along. Without realizing it, I started a business and by the end of its first year, I was making enough to keep me solvent. I started organizing trips around the state, then the country. That's when the serious money started coming in.

I suddenly woke up one morning and realized that I hadn't been in a cave for a year. All I was doing was sitting at my desk making business decisions, returning phone calls and signing checks. My business had become so successful that it had eclipsed me and left me in its wake.

I hated it and yet at the same time, I loved it. Seriously, what person doesn't like making money? Still, I started cutting back at my time in the office, leading one or two tours every now and again, promising an exciting and unique experience. It was a very successful move and I had to take on two more employees just to handle the new business.

I was studying catalogs and travel brochures to narrow down my next tour when there was a knock at my door. It was my office manager and my best decision to date.

"Hey, JD, there's a guy here who needs to talk to you."

"Do I owe him money?"

She grinned. "I don't think so."

"Is he a lawyer?"

"Doesn't have the smell about him." You have to understand that we weren't terribly fond of lawyers in my line of work. "There's just something… I think you need to talk to him."

I sighed and pushed stuff aside. I'd long since learned to listen to Sharon to the point where people thought we were married. "Then send him in."

After a moment, a little old man entered. Well, maybe that's not fair of me. I am well over six feet and he must have been about five seven or so. He was probably in his late sixties to my thirties, but there was a way that he moved that told me he was still in pretty good shape. I stood and offered my hand.

"Hi, I'm JD. What can I do for you?" He stared at me for a moment as if he were trying to make a decision. Then he took my hand and gave it a firm shake. I was right, still in good shape.

"Mr. Dawson, I need a caver, a good one, and it needs to be someone I can trust." He sat in a chair, but on the edge, as if he might be called upon to make a sudden escape. That wasn't lost on me.

"Well, we have a good safety record and I've never had anyone lost or permanently injured."

"I know. I've read all about you and your company." He locked eyes with me and I suddenly knew what Sharon meant. There was something about this guy. "I need the best and I believe that is you." He seemed to have come to some sort of decision. "What do you know about UNCLE?"

"The defunct spy ring thing from the 70's? Not much." Wow! The look in that guy's eyes chilled me to the bone. Whatever I said touched a nerve. "I… ah… didn't mean to offend you."

The frost warmed slightly. "I am-," he paused as if looking for the right word. "It is a delicate subject for me."

"I can tell."

"I need to get inside UNCLE's New York headquarters."

"How? No one even knows where it is anymore." It wasn't every day that you learned there had been a super duper spy organization operating right beneath our noses. I don't really know what happened, something big did and suddenly it was all over. Decades of helping to keep us safe was gone just like that. It had been sad in a way.

The old guy's head bowed and there was a long pause. I was sort of worried that he'd fallen asleep or, worse, died. I didn't think I'd have to put that in a brochure or anything, though. Then his head came back up.

"I do."

I laughed. "Sure you do. Folks have been looking for it for years. Besides, we'd never get in. From what I remember hearing tell, all the entrances were filled with concrete when it closed shop to keep the bad guys out."

"Not all of them, Mr. Dawson."

I stopped laughing then. "What? What do you mean not all of them?"

"There is one. It was the entrance used by the Chief to come and go from the building without incident. It was only known to three people. Two of them are dead."

"What about the last one."

"I'm married to him." The old man stood and I swear he became twenty years younger in that instant. "My name is Illya Kuryakin and I am an UNCLE agent."