Chapter 7

Napoleon sat silent as Waverly did their mission review. Just as he suspected, the old man was reasonably pleased with how the events unfolded. The strengths and weaknesses of the new man, Burke, were being tested in the field under the experienced eyes of Solo. Burke would be a good agent given a little time with his aptitude for learning. It was no shower of praise and glory from the head of U.N.C.L.E., New York, but Solo knew compliments from him were rare. When the meeting was over, he was pleased with his agent's performance and Waverly's approval of him.

Burke fell into step beside Solo as if he'd always been there. Napoleon faltered a half step not too appreciative of Burke's assuming Illya's role so easily. It was one the man would not be playing for long. Even so, he liked Burke well enough and he did feel a slight bond developing between them. All partners did but Burke was only a temporary partner and there were still barriers Napoleon doubted the rookie agent could breach in order to reach the same level of trust and friendship he had with Illya. Napoleon was willing to let the man try, at least for the moment.

"Well Burke. Today was your first big success as an agent." Napoleon said as they returned to the office.

The young agent's face brightened like an elf at Christmas. "Thank you!" He hesitated, and then blurted, "Would you like to go have a drink?"

Napoleon's first inclination was to decline. He often went for a drink with Illya after a successful assignment. Burke probably expected the same not realizing the socially adept Napoleon Solo had never done such a thing with any previous partners. And Waverly would be put at ease if he thought his CEA had given up the idea of looking for his former partner if he seemed to accept Burke as his new one. Maybe then Waverly would look the other way and Napoleon would have some breathing room in order to find his real partner. After some thought he made up his mind and nodded. "I have some things to do in my office first. I'll meet you at the North Exit," he said checking his watch. "In about half an hour. Good work today."

Burke beamed. "Thanks Mr. Solo."

"Uh… Burke. It's Napoleon," he told him.

"Napoleon then." This was it. I've made it, Burke thought to himself. "See you in a half."

Napoleon watched Burke go but in his mind the image morphed into that of his blond diminutive partner, Illya. He smiled to himself and vowed once more that he would find him someday. He wasn't dead. Until he had a lifeless body in front of him, Illya would never be dead.

"Napoleon?" a soft alluring voice from the doorway called to him.

"Hmmm?" he replied a little distracted. "Oh. Lucinda. What is it?"

She smiled at him and leaned against the frame batting her eyelashes. "You're almost done for today. What do you say the two of us start the night off with a drink after work?"

He gave her one of his charming expressions and walked past her into his office, placing a gentle hand on her arm as he went through. He felt the shiver run up her arm at the contact but somehow it didn't thrill him like it used to. "I'm sorry Lucinda. I've promised to take Burke out and go over the mission. A review of sorts. I hope you understand."

She sighed and followed him in. "I suppose so. I could give you a rain check if you like."

He nodded and sat down at his desk. "That's a good idea. I'll get back to you on that."

She sauntered up to his desk and perched delicately on the edge showing off her shapely legs and other accoutrements. "Maybe I can add some other good news to top off your day then."

"Oh? And what would that be?" he asked looking up at her.

"I heard them talking in the communications room earlier today. It seems they located Illya's pen. A family in California had it in their car. They bought it on vacation in Mexico. Mr. Waverly sent someone down to check it out."

Napoleon's eyebrows rose as his interest peeked. "Who?"

"April and Mark. They left just after the news came in."

He was elated. It was their first lead. Now maybe they could find out what happened. He jumped up and took her by the shoulders. After planting a kiss on her lips he had plans to make. "Thanks Lucinda. I owe you a drink." Then he rushed out to call Mark and see what they had to go on.

~oOo~

Illya filled his belly. The food was delicious to a man who'd been half starved for the past several weeks but it would have been exquisite to anyone who hadn't lived through the same hardship. The bath and clean surroundings made him feel like a new man in spite of the calluses on his palms and feet. Even those were softer after the women paid special attention to them. Soon he had the lamb and rice dish cleaned to the pattern and then he devoured the fruit given to him for dessert. Even as he reveled in the pleasure of a sated appetite he grew nervous about what was to happen now.

To take his mind off things he looked around the room. Someone guarded every doorway and even though there was many things around he could use for a weapon the odds against him were overwhelming. Suicide was not an option unless he was about to die so he dismissed that outright.

Illya turned as noises came from a hall behind him. He heard the sound of several people walking down the corridor toward the room. Orders for privacy were given in Arabic and the prince in all his finery walked through the door. Behind him servants closed the portal and around the room each doorway closed in turn.

Illya's head followed the closing doors only to come around and face Prince Laheeb once more. He waited for the man to make his next move.

Laheeb stood in place eyeing the pale body up and down. He was pleased. The man was handsome for a Caucasian and he particularly liked the well-defined muscles of the buttocks.

He walked closer to the man while taking off his outer robe leaving him bare-chested. A gold band decorated each bicep. Around his waist was a gold sash tied and hanging to the side, holding up the flowing blue silk pants.

Laheeb ran a soft hand over the blond man's shoulder as he circled behind him. He pressed up to Illya's backside and whispered into his ear. "You are very attractive. I like that."

~oOo~

"Out of the question," Waverly declared, pointing a packed but unlit pipe at Napoleon. "Mr. Slate and Miss Dancer are more than capable of retrieving Mr. Kuryakin's pen without your assistance, Mr. Solo. I need you elsewhere at the moment."

"But sir," Napoleon argued in a quiet, confident tone. "Even if we don't look for Mr. Kuryakin, we need to find the information he carried at the time of his disappearance. I do not like an unfinished mission to be left dangling." Which was true most of the time. In this instance, though, his first priority was to find Illya. After that, if the mission could be saved, they would do it together.

"I agree with your assessment, Mr. Solo," Waverly replied. He noticed the almost imperceptible widening of his CEA's dark eyes. He seldom managed to surprise either Solo or Kuryakin and found it immensely satisfying when he did. He smiled to himself but kept his outward expression neutral. "Which is why I much prefer to spend the money to send you back to Tuxtla Gutierrez where the Wakeauxs say they bought the communicator."

Napoleon sat up straighter. "When do I leave?" He would have liked yesterday, but this afternoon would have to do.

"Tomorrow morning. Four twenty-two AM to be exact." Waverly placed a manila envelope on the table and spun it to his agent. "This will be a good assignment to further assess Mr. Burke's skills as well," he added.

Napoleon's enthusiasm deflated a little, but then perked back up. Burke was eager to please which meant the man would work hard at finding Illya. This could work out fine.