"Gentlemen, it would appear that Thrush has launched a new, curiously threatening attack on the fashion industry. Please look at the reports in front of you… tell me what you think of this."

The older man tamped at the tobacco without purpose, his own seemingly interrupted by the accounts now being read by his two top agents. The grey walls did little to help his mood, nor did the refusal of his pipe to light at times such as this. Damned infernal…

Illya looked up from the papers he held in his hands, a look of complete confusion wrinkling the broad brow beneath too long blond hair. Waverly had never understood the man's insistence on this look of his. Damned Russians…

"Sir, are we to understand that Thrush has some type of … "

The maligned blond head shook, partly in frustration at an inability to phrase his question, and in a barely concealed amusement at the subject matter.

"If I may, it sounds as though Thrush has discovered something akin to the emperor's new clothes. You know, the old fairy tale…you know?"

Napoleon's earnest expression did not earn him an immediate response from his partner. Illya was still trying to find words for his assessment of this latest development. Mr. Waverly nodded his head in agreement, however. A harrumph of displeasure accented the motion.

"Yes indeed, Mr. Solo. It does appear to resemble something fantastic and slightly more related to the Brothers Grimm than anything remotely as earth shattering as is usual for our feathered foes. It is, in fact, exactly like the invisible clothing worn by the unfortunate man in that fairy tale."

With that pronouncement, he turned to his console and brought up a picture on the oversize screen behind him. On it, the obvious point of reference was a man clothed in a shabby three-piece suit; the proportions were wrong and the fabric was a shiny but poor attempt at reproducing expensive silk blended sharkskin. Napoleon winced visibly at the atrocity, while Illya considered his own highly prized grey suit, something he had bought at his partner's insistence. He was glad, at the moment, to be able to see the difference between his and this awful imitation.

"So, the world is being inundated with cheap clothing. That's nothing new, although it continues to be a hazard to one's fashion health."

Napoleon grinned irrepressibly at his own humor, gaining a scathing look from Illya and a wisp of indrawn breath from Mr. Waverly.

"No, no Mr. Solo. It is, to my utter amazement, much more diabolical than it sounds. It is a matter of mind control, and in these beginning stages, the stooges, so to speak, are the world's foremost fashion aficionados, the fashionistas, if you will."

Waverly's use of a term that would not be common for several decades was a surprise to his men, causing Kuryakin to pause as he translated the probable meaning into something useful for this assignment. And then, he wondered, what the assignment would be.

"Sir, what exactly are we to do about this…situation? It seems improbable that we can counteract a current fashion trend.'

He paused, considering how to approach the problem…

"Do we know how they are influencing people to…buy ugly clothes?"

Napoleon had been silent, pondering the situation and wondering what would make a person think that the item of clothing on the screen was good taste.

"Sir, I take it we are going in, as it were, and try to capture whatever device it is they're using to create these suggestions of appropriate style choices. Unknown or not considered by most is the impact that the fashion industry has on society. The choices of color and length of a woman's skirt may seem inconsequential, but if the mood of the world suddenly turned to all black, we might see a downturn in productivity and social unrest…"

Illya fairly growled beneath the icy stare. Black? Socially dangerous and promoting a lack of productivity? Was he serious?

Napoleon caught the glare, and then realized what he had just said.

"Illya, I am talking about society at large, not you as an individual of obvious intelligence and professional integrity."

The smile…

"Well, yes quite so, Mr. Solo. I believe you two have your work cut out for you. Find this device, whatever it is, and destroy it. We are facing a disaster of universal proportions if this damnable thing continues to make appearances via the victims Thrush has chosen."

With that the old man turned his attention to another folder, dismissing them by his lack of interest.

When the two agents were outside Waverly's door and within hearing of the secretary de jour, Napoleon nudged Illya and motioned that they should continue this meeting in their office. Even if the subject matter seemed benign, the idea that strong willed individuals who routinely impressed the world with their wardrobes were being subjugated somehow, and their choices controlled, meant that more important issues would be addressed in the future.

Thrush didn't know how to do half way.