Napoleon awoke from the drug induced nap like a cat waking up from a nap. He stretched and yawned, the luxurious feel of an ocean breeze carrying the tangy smell of salt water.

Then it hit him. He'd been drugged, and he was positive he was no longer in El Paso.

''Good evening Napoleon, I hope you rested well." Buck Darrow was seated in a large white rocking chair a few feet from the chaise lounge on which Napoleon was still partially reclined.

"I, uhh…' Napoleon did feel refreshed. And being nearly on the ocean made for the best sort of evening.

''Yes, thank you. But, why did you drug me? Was there something you didn't want me to observe back there?" Buck smiled, he liked this man. He liked both of his UNCLE agents, not that they were truly his.

"You may have difficulty believing me, but I mean you no harm. And you won't be in any danger as long as you are my guest. That goes for Mr. Kuryakin, Illya, as well." He looked out over the balcony of the elegant pole house, the unique design common to this part of the Gulf Coast.

Buck Darrow had debated, first with himself and then with Terrence Cayhill, about filling in the details for Solo and Kuryakin. He knew why they had come after him, and the unfortunate orders they most likely had in order to apprehend of stop him completely.

"Are you an open minded man, Napoleon?" He was willing to risk exposure to Solo and Kuryakin, based on their reputations as honest and worthy of their word.

Napoleon's expression reflected his curiosity, if not a measure of confusion. Open minded…

"I believe I am. In this line of work, well, not everything is cut and dried." He meant it, black and white applied to some things; good and evil for instance.

"Good, that's good. I have a story to tell you."