Padre Enrique was finishing his morning ablutions in the little rectory of the church. La Iglesia del Corazon Bendito de la Santa Isabelle had been his home for seventeen years, and the little pueblo of Santa Isabella remained entirely too full of mischief and unrepentant hearts. He vowed everyday to remain faithful, but it was a tremendous effort at times, considering what went on below the floors of his beloved church. He knew that it had been foolish of him to allow those people to dig beneath his iglesia, creating a sub-level to which he was denied entry. He didn't wish to go there anyway; his pleas for forgiveness were time consuming these days, the sin of his folly tormented him. He had thought it a way to gain income for the little parrish, but now it was proving to have been a mistake. The men looked evil to him, and they refused to come into the church and pray for their souls. Yes, it had been wrong of him to allow it. And now, he might have to suffer the consequences for eternity. Certainly pergatory would make room for him when the time came.

Illya and Napoleon were attempting to forge a plan of action. They knew that the girl, Maria, was not a regular employee of the cantina, nor did anyone seem to know where she lived. Her sole purpose seems to have been to slip something into Illya's beer the previous night and then disappear. The two agents determined that they would lay low for the afternoon and then set up a watch for the night. They would avoid the cantina, instead buying some provisions from the little mercado and eating in their room. That seemed to be the safest choice for them now. With nothing additional coming from Mr. Waverly, and little information pertinent to their search from the locals, both men were feeling the anxiety of not enough action. Illya feigned relaxation as he took yet another nap, but he was keyed up with questions and an unwelcome sense of ignorance. This situation vexed his need for information, and he would need a release for the ambiguity that had presented itself on this mission.
Napoleon tried to appease his own frustration by reading for a while, then searching the streets below for any signs of activity or clues about the events from the night before. They were at risk from an enemy they hadn't identified. That was worrisome to the CEA; the man could function with little or no information, but to be stalked by an anonymous adversary left him cold. There were answers and he intended to find them.

As the dusty little town began to fade into the darkness of night, a few men straggled into the cantina for their nightly drinks and conversation. The whitewashed buildings took on a faint glow in the light of a full moon, something that would make the evening's surveillance a little easier. If anything was going on in this town, they would be able to see it from their balcony. The hotel was situated perfectly for that task, and was the one thing in their favor so far. " Don't leave any lights on in the room. We should be able to disappear from sight without any backlighting". Napoleon was sitting on the floor of the little balcony, and he could peer easily between the railings that helped to block any view of the inhabitants there. Illya joined him after dousing all of the lights in the room, ready to settle in for however long it took to sight something of interest.

In the dark streets below them, the two men saw little activity save a few men coming into the cantina below them. At the end of town, lights were on in the church; something that did not seem too out of place here, until a movement caught Illya's attention.
"Look, over to the side of the church...do you see that?" He motioned with his hand so that Napoleon could zero in on the same object. It looked like a man in some type of dark clothing, and as he walked towards the back of the church building he seemed to just disappear. Napoleon pulled his night goggles a little closer, as though he might see better if they were pressed more closely to his face.
"There must be a way down below the church. Something tells me a basement is not in the plans for that little building. Shall we take a look?" He grinned sideways at his partner as they both rose up from their sitting positions, then grabbed their kits that contained a penlight, communicator and various implements for breaking and entering, exploding and creating chaos, if necessary.

Both men were dressed all in black, and the blond had on a cap to cover the beacon of light hair. Especially in this location, he would be noticed instantly for that bright mop. He led the way down, clamboring from the balcony to a convenient handhold in the building's adobe walls. Since the first floor had been built with seven foot walls, the descent was easily handled without the aid of ropes or other accoutrement familiar to the two agents. Sometimes simplicity did present itself.
Down on the ground they began their approach to the little church. They stayed in the shadows until they reached it, then around to the back and well out of sight of anyone on the street. There was the flicker of candlelight through the modest stained glass windows, indicating that someone was tending the business and flock of God inside. The side of the church had a little patio complete with a fountain and assorted statues of the patron saint, Saint Isabelle, upon whose memory the little town had been founded. For some unknown reason, the name Santa Isabella had replaced the traditional Isabelle, but the respect and devotion were present just the same. Her likeness was shrouded with flowers and paper mache' garlands, some of which were long forgotten by whoever had left them. It was on this patio that Illya and Napoleon found themselves in search of a doorway to the underground room.

When they reached the point where they had witnessed the man going down beneath the building, they were disappointed to not find a ready entrance. Utilizing both of their penlights, they finally identified a section of the stone patio where a shape emerged that had to be the opening. It was well concealed to a casual observer, but not to the searching eyes of two trained UNCLE agents. This was a discovery that needed exploration; knowing that someone had just entered, they decided to remain and watch for more activity. Whoever was down there was probably armed, and with only one entrance, a person would most likely be observed if he just dropped in for a visit.

One of them would have to go in alone.