A/N: Episode tag to the Terbuf affair. Because I watched that one and when they suggested sending a telegram to Mr Waverley to let him know they weren't coming back on time I was left saying "Guys, I love you dearly, and I understand that Leo G Carroll isn't appearing in this episode, but I still think this is the worst idea you've ever come up with. Yes, worse than chasing cats." Ahem. Or words to that effect. And then I wanted to know what the hell Mr Waverley said.


Being Mr Waverley's personal secretary was a very prestigious job, one that Sophie Winters took great pride in performing to the very best of her considerable abilities. It was also a job that carried some heavy responsibilities; even besides the obvious ones. For one thing, she was one of the few secretaries who carried a gun and had been extensively trained to use it. She hadn't had to fire it in Mr Waverley's defence – yet – but she had absolutely no doubt that she could, and would if she had to. For another thing, she had to hold herself above the general spreading of office gossip – something which was particularly difficult when she walked into the office on Tuesday morning and saw a bunch of the younger girls gathered around Linda from communications.

"Alright, what's going on here?" she asked briskly. "We all have work to do, break it up."

"Oh, Miss Winters!" Linda exclaimed, flustered. "I was just...this telegram came in for Mr Waverley. I wasn't sure what to do."

A telegram? She raised an eyebrow. That certainly was unusual. Most outside correspondence for Mr Waverley came through official channels, and obviously information from UNCLE agents came through the relays. "Who is it from?" she asked.

"Napoleon and Illya..." Janice said eagerly, and blushed. "Oh, or rather I mean, Mr Solo and Mr Kuryakin."

"Yes, I know who they are," she said dryly. Maybe not as well as some of these girls knew them, Mr Solo especially, but she did know their first names after all. She wasn't as old as all that. "Are you sure? Why wouldn't they use the overseas relay?"

There was a short pause and the girls looked at each other. "Well...maybe you'd better read it for yourself," Linda said slowly and handed it over.

Lips pursed, Sophie looked down at it.

PERSONAL ATTENTION MR WAVERLEY (STOP) RETURN DELAYED (STOP) NS ENCOUNTERED OLD FRIEND REQUIRES ASSISTANCE (STOP) POSSIBLE GOVERNMENT CORRUPTION TERBUF (STOP) APOLOGIES (STOP) IK

"Oh," she said blankly. Oh, Mr Waverley wasn't going to like this at all. "I had best go in to see him immediately. And you had better all return to work."

She took the telegram and walked briskly to Mr Waverley's office.

He looked up as she came in. "Ah, Miss Winters, there you are," he said with a slight smile. "I've been looking over the reports Mr Cahill sent from Tunisia. I think we need to send someone out to investigate as soon as possible. Mr Solo and Kuryakin are due back from their vacation tomorrow, are they not? Have communications order them to report directly to Tunis from Rome instead of returning to New York."

She took a deep breath. "I'm afraid they're not coming back, sir," she said, trying to sound as smooth as she could.

"Not coming back?" he repeated, his brow furrowed. "What the devil do you mean, Miss Winters?"

"We've received this telegram, sir," she said, passing it over.

He took it and read it carefully. Then he reread it a couple of times while she stood awkwardly by. His expression didn't noticeably change "Yes," he said grimly. "I see."

"Do you think it's legitimate?" she asked apprehensively. "It did have the usual codewords in the address. But I can't understand why Mr Kuryakin wouldn't use the overseas relay to report in."

Mr Waverley gave a small snort. "Oh, I can understand that. If he had reported in to me directly, I could have ordered them to return immediately. This way, it's a fait accompli, as it were. And as for the legitimacy, I think we can be confident enough of that. The wording of this is remarkably curt. If this were a THRUSH deception, I doubt they would be as eager to avoid paying for extra verbage as our Mr Kuryakin evidently is."

"Yes sir," she said unhappily.

"No, this is genuine enough, I should say," Mr Waverley said. "It appears our number 1 and 2 Section II agents have gone AWOL. This is really most inconvenient."

Sophie had worked for Mr Waverley for long enough to understand that when he said 'inconvenient', he meant 'I am unspeakably cross'. She was also well aware that he was quietly very attached to his Section II agents. He never said a thing, but whenever one was missing or in danger he always smoked far more than usual. And Napoleon and Illya were always sent into the worst danger. "I'm sure they wouldn't have gone unless they thought it was important," she said.

"No doubt," Mr Waverley agreed. "I look forward to reading their reports when they return." He made it sound like a threat. "And let's keep an eye on the situation in Terbuf. If Mr Solo and Mr Kuryakin are involved, I have no doubt something significant is going to happen."


It was five days later that Mr Solo and Mr Kuryakin strolled into headquarters as though they didn't have a care in the world. Sophie happened to be in the atrium when they came in.

"Good morning, Susie," Napoleon said, leaning in close to have his badge pinned on.

"Good morning, Napoleon," she said sunnily. "Did you have a nice vacation?"

"Ah, it had its moments," Napoleon smiled. "Illya got to jump out of a tree like Errol Flynn."

"It was very satisfying," Illya said, deadpan.

Sophie managed to hide her smile behind a stack of papers as she reached for the intercom. "Mr Waverley, Mr Solo and Mr Kuryakin are back," she said.

"I see," he said. "Tell them to come to my office just as soon as it's convenient for them."

She turned round to see Napoleon and Ilya looking at her with matching pained expressions. "Mr Waverley would like to see you straight away," she translated.

"I see," Illya said grimly.

"I think he got your telegram," Napoleon murmured directly into his ear. "And I don't think he appreciated it very much."

"No," she told them tartly. "He didn't."

They exchanged a long look, which was doubtless full of meaning, and then Napoleon extended a hand towards the office. "After you."

"Thank you," Illya said ironically.

Once they were gone, Susie looked at Sophie with an expression of deep set betrayal.

Well, really. Mr Waverley was going to find out eventually.


The door to Mr Waverley's office remained resolutely closed for the remainder of the morning. Despite her curiosity, Sophie couldn't hear a word that was said. There were no raised voices, not that she would have expected there to be. Mr Waverley was hardly the sort of man who required to raise his voice in order to discipline his subordinates, and Mr Solo and Mr Kuryakin were hardly likely to argue with whatever was being said. Whatever it was, they would certainly have deserved it, taking unauthorised time off like that.

Eventually, the door opened, and she busied herself shuffling the papers on her desk as Napoleon and Illya strolled out.

"It could be worse," Napoleon said.

"Yes," Illya agreed. "We could be dead."

They stopped at her desk and she looked up at them expectantly. "Your assignments?"

"Mr Solo is off on a courier assignment to northern Finland," Illya said.

"And Mr Kuryakin is going undercover on a steamship in the Persian Gulf," Napoleon said. "As a cabin boy."

"A stoker's mate," Illya corrected.

"There's hardly a difference," Napoleon said.

Illya looked at him. "I hope you get frostbite where it matters."

"Well, perhaps that will remind both of you that this is a serious organisation, and not a holiday camp," Sophie told them as she passed up the relevant files. "Mr Waverley was really very upset with you."

Napoleon smiled charmingly at her and despite herself, she felt herself blush. "Rest assured, we've learned our lesson. Or at least, I have. Mr Kuryakin tends to be more stubborn."

Illya shook his head slowly. "I just followed you. Mind you, that is normally my first mistake."

They nodded their farewells at her and walked towards the door, still lightly arguing.

She shook her head. So young, so brave, so immortal. "Be careful," she called out after them, and Napoleon turned and smiled, and Illya nodded again, and she went back to her work, shaking her head some more.

After all. She wouldn't want Mr Waverley to be any more upset.