1967

Six AM the next morning found Illya sitting alone at a table in the cafeteria. A few of his teammates were eating breakfast at a table in the middle of the room, but habits that keep you alive die hard and the Russian sat where he could watch the doorways and his back was against the wall. He had noticed them watching him after he had gotten his food and only nodded "Good morning" as he passed their table. He didn't really care if they thought he was acting like a distant Ice Prince by not sitting with them. He was the only Section II in the contingent, (the only Section II on the continent, he thought in amusement) and he knew the main reason Mr. Waverly had selected him was because he would enforce Section I's decision if the need arose.

The door on the right opened and the female scientists entered, led by Valerie Lewis. She saw him and waved hello before turning back to get a tray and order bacon and eggs. She got her food, said something to her companions and then walked over to join him.

"Good morning," she said as she sat, "I'm assuming you're sitting here to protect your back?" She answered his small smile with a smile. "I thought so. I told Denise and Kim that and that I was going to sit with you. Look, they're telling the gang what I said."

He turned his gaze to the table to see thirteen pairs of eyes trained their way while at least four of them exclaimed, "Ohhhhhhhh, okay" in complete understanding. He waved at them and received waves, smiles and raised coffee cups in return. "Thank you, Valerie."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "For what?"

"It did not occur to me to simply tell them why I chose to sit here. I am used to UNCLE personnel who are used to Section IIs. I am the only Section II who is also a scientist. Only you and Charles had met me before and he is fairly new to the organization. So, thank you."

"You're more than welcome, Illya." They ate in silence as they concentrated on their food, the best they had eaten since leaving New York. Valerie swallowed the last of hers and drank some coffee. "I'm ready to get started. How do you propose we do this?"

"Come, let's join the others." He stood and helped out of her chair. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's six – thirty now. Please meet me in Room Five in fifteen minutes so we can discuss strategy. Agreed?" He was pleased to hear them all agree and he and Valerie left together.

The room Illya had chosen for the meeting had been suggested by Dr. Conroy. He was already there when he and Valerie entered. "Good morning!" he said as he rose to greet them, "I trust you slept and ate well?"

"I did; we both did, I think," Illya answered, "The rest of the team will be here in a few minutes. What are your thoughts about how to proceed?"

"The warehouse is divided into six sections: Nuclear weaponry, Biochemical weaponry, Laser weaponry, Artificial Intelligence, devices that control the weather and/or the environment and finally, the files where the notes and blueprints for all the weaponry are kept. I suggest that one team is assigned to each section with Tom and me operating as the sixth team. We should be able to disassemble and destroy the cache in less than three weeks' time."

"I agree. As the lead, I will float among all six teams to make sure all is well and as it should be. How many of your staff are still here?"

"The bulk of the scientists were from UNCLE South America and Australia. Most of them are already gone; it was hard for some of them to see their efforts to create peacetime uses for these weapons destroyed so it was thought best to reassign them now. It's only Tom, me and the support staff here."

During their discussion, Tom and the other scientists had been coming into the room. After everyone got settled, Illya related what Dr. Conroy had suggested. "Does anyone have an objection or a better suggestion to accomplish our goal?" No one raised a hand. "Good. Team South America, you will handle AI; Africa, you will take Laser weapons; Doctor Conroy and Tom, you will destroy the files; Team Australia, weather and environmental; Team Europe, you have the nuclear bombs which means that North America will tackle the biochemical weapons. As I said earlier, I will spend time with each team every day to check your progress. Any questions?"

Doctor John Smith of Australia raised his hand. "How do you want us to keep track of what we're doing?"

Before Illya could answer, Valerie spoke up, "Smitty, I suggest that each team designate one person as the recorder. That person will write up each weapon destroyed and hand in that paperwork to Illya at the end of each day. How does that sound?"

The Russian smiled. "That sounds reasonable. I must report our progress to Mr. Waverly daily." He glanced at his watch. "It is seven – fifteen now. Let us get started. Please remember: Each weapon is to be dismantled piece by piece and every piece is to be destroyed by crushing or melting. All radioactive and or nuclear waste is to be placed in the glass containers provided for deep burial under the lowest level of this facility. I know this goes without saying, but I will say it anyway: Be careful. We do not need nuclear incidents or anyone getting hurt." He stood. "We will break for lunch at eleven – thirty."

Illya was very proud of the way the teams had been working for the past week and a half. They had quickly settled into a routine: Breakfast between six and seven, off to their respective areas by seven fifteen, lunch starting at eleven thirty, back to work by twelve forty – five. They would work straight through to five PM, eat dinner and then work until nine. Illya was given progress reports from each team three times a day and he reported to Mr. Waverly at ten PM.

It was eleven PM Tuesday night and Illya was finding it difficult to get to sleep. He flung the covers off, put on jeans and slippers and quietly moved past his bunkmates after grabbing his communicator. He left the dorm and headed to the cafeteria to get tea. He was surprised to see Valerie there reading. "I thought I was the only one having trouble sleeping." He noticed she was drinking a cup of tea. "That is what I came for," he said as he went to the hot water urn.

"I'm usually up late reading and I come in here so I don't disturb the others," she said conversationally, "Care to join me?"

"Sure."

He sat and they sipped their tea in a comfortable silence. She looked at him and smiled just as he glanced at her. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"I reserve the right not to answer, but you may ask your question."

She finished her tea and then closed her book. Now that she could ask, she wondered if she should ask. She saw that he was watching her, eyebrows raised, waiting for her to say something. Well, in for a penny…"When I first met you, I thought you might be interested in me. When I transferred to HQ, Napoleon took me sightseeing, which was fun, but I was hoping you would ask me on a date and you never did. Was I wrong? Did I misread you?"

Illya considered lying to her, but he did like her as a person and felt she deserved to know she hadn't been mistaken. "I do like you, Valerie, and when I first met you, I admit, I was a bit infatuated. It is just that, I have since met someone with whom…I connect."

"Oh." Her brows furrowed as she tried to reconcile what she just heard with what she already knew. He doesn't date any of the girls or women in HQ, the grapevine would know if he did. Wait a minute; lately the grapevine's been pretty quiet regarding Napoleon, too. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. That can't be true, she thought. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. When you factor out everything else, what's left, no matter how improbable, is true. "You're with Napoleon," she stated. The quickly hidden look of surprise told her she was right. "My entire family used to tease my Uncle Sammy about 'Aunt' Leonard. We loved both of them to pieces, but I know everyone's not like my family. I won't tell anyone, Illya. I promise."

"Thank you, Valerie. I…I do not feel comfortable speaking about it…"

"It's fine," she said as she took his hand in both of hers, "We don't have to. I'm happy that you and Napoleon have each other. I'll see you in the morning." She smiled at him as she let go of his hand and stood. "Sleep well."

The Russian sat there drinking his tea. After about ten minutes, he pulled his communicator from his pocket. "Open Channel S, overseas relay, scrambled."

A sleepy voice came through the device. "Hi. Sergei and I had just decided you weren't going to call."

"Valerie Lewis knows about us."

"What! Are you okay? Why did you tell her?"

"I did not tell her; she intuited it. She could probably move to Section II, her instincts are good. There is no problem. There are homosexuals in her family that she loves and she promised she will not say anything."

"Good. When are you coming home?"

"Soon. I think we will be finished by Friday the latest. I have already spoken to the South American Headquarters and the ship will be here Friday afternoon for us to set sail Saturday morning. Then, it is just another two days' sail plus fifty hours of flying and layovers." He could hear Napoleon's loud, frustrated groan.

"Well, tell everyone to step on the gas. Sergei is starting to look really good to me."

Illya snorted, "If I come home and see Sergei looking quite shocked, I will know why. Good night, Napoleon."