Chapter 37: CONNECTING THE DOTS
Wherein a thirty year absence is accounted for…
Passing under the arch and pausing her party just inside the entryway, Elise launched into docent mode. Adopting an appropriately dulcet tone, she launched into her spiel. "As you can see, two corridors diverge on either side of the staircase. To your right are the informal and formal dining rooms, the kitchen, laundry and storerooms. To your left we have the great room."
As she reached for the doorknob, there came from within a stream of invective in a strident female voice, the whump of furniture and a body hitting the floor, and a male voice yelping in alarm. Hastily intercepted and maneuvered away from the door by Illya, Elise soldiered on with élan, ushering the party down the hallway as if nothing untoward was taking place behind those closed doors.
"Originally, a ballroom extended the entire length of the house. During renovation it was reconfigured into the great room, a business office, a library which doubles as a study, a family room and a lavatory. These all feature additional interior insulation for the purposes of privacy and noise suppression, so one is not distracted by..."
Illya held up a hand. "Enough, Elise. Let us put an end to this charade. Come. You, too, Ducky." With that he led them into the library.
An uncomfortable silence descended on the round table as everyone waited for Illya, clearly unsettled, to lead off. What at first Ducky had taken to be a reunion of old friends now appeared to be something else entirely. A faint air of hostility emanated from Elise and two of the guests.
"Suffice to say, this is somewhat of a shock for all of us." Illya finally spoke, slowly and deliberately, with the air of one methodically organizing his thoughts while refusing to yield to emotional displays. "I imagine you have questions."
"You think?" April scowled as her varnished nails tapped an impatient tattoo on the table's polished surface. "If you're Illya, then who's he?" she added rather rudely, nodding at Ducky.
"Donald is my brother. He knows all about our UNCLE history. You may speak openly."
"I don't recall anything in your file about a twin brother, Illya," Mark muttered.
"We are not twins, and I did not know I had a brother until recently. Neither did he. Frankly, how that came about is not your concern."
"Do you have any idea of the trouble your disappearance caused us?" April said. "It was rumored you'd gone back to the KGB… or that you'd been a double agent all along."
"Baseless, I can assure you," Illya parried, completely dead-pan.
"We didn't want to believe it," April shot back. "Nevertheless, because we'd been such close friends, internal affairs assumed we knew something. We were suspended and interrogated. Even Napoleon was called back in and grilled. He wasn't too pleased about that, I can tell you."
"All I can say, April, is that I am very sorry. Surely you were cleared and restored to duty?" He might have saved his breath, remembering full well how, once such an accusation was made, everyone within an agent's orbit immediately fell under suspicion and remained there until proven innocent. Even then, partnerships rarely survived such incidents.
Mark took over. "Eventually, yes… but the taint remained, to the extent that thereafter our responsibilities were restricted and activities curtailed. It didn't matter so much to me… I was approaching the age cutoff anyway… but April was still young enough she had many more years of field service ahead. She resigned not long afterwards, citing the impossibility of continuing to work effectively under a cloud of suspicion."
Illya sighed. "Again, I can only apologize. My actions had nothing to do with you or Napoleon."
"Where have you been all these past years?" Mark demanded.
"That, too, is irrelevant."
Elise couldn't contain herself. "Do you not understand the pressure Illya was under? Being held accountable for a bungled mission that wasn't his fault… threatened with possible discharge from UNCLE. No wonder he resigned. Though he wasn't immediately recalled by KGB, they let it be known he could be at any time."
Illya made a futile attempt to calm his wife. "Don't blame Mark or April—there was nothing they could have done about any of that."
"No… let me finish," Elisa stormed, on the verge of tears. "Then they have the nerve, fifteen years later, to coerce Illya into yet another dangerous operation. We had a good life by then, a family… which he jeopardized by allowing Napoleon Solo to guilt him into participating.
"It wouldn't have stopped there… you know that. Even though that last mission was successful, they put watchers on us, April. They poked into every crevice and cranny of our lives... they even watched our children. UNCLE can just be damned! To preserve our safety and our sanity it was necessary to get away, as far away as possible… where neither UNCLE nor KGB could ever find us with their impossible demands."
"And is that what happened?" April directed her query to Illya in a considerably more civil tone.
"It is. Elise and I took ourselves out of play for either side. We made a new life… a successful, peaceful life… which we have every hope of continuing. Unfortunately, this now depends on you four." Illya's self-control appeared to have slipped a cog as he put every ounce of supplication into his next words. "Our fate is in your hands. I appeal to you now, my old friends—begging you—forget this chance meeting. Do no damage to my family by revealing my prior or current existence."
In the contemplative interval which followed, Alice spoke up. "For what it's worth, I believe that, faced with similar circumstances, we would have done exactly the same. Mark, do you agree?"
"I do. Thank God we never had to. April… what about you? Are you still angry? As I see it, Illya and Elise had no choice."
All choler seemed to have leached from the other woman's attitude. "It's my turn to apologize. I had no idea it was as bad as all that. You have my word, your secret is safe."
"As far as my lady wife and I are concerned," Mark affirmed, "you may rest easy on that score, mate. Our lips are sealed."
The Bauers heaved a great sigh of relief.
Ducky hadn't said a word until now. His query went to April. "What about your husband. Do you speak for him as well?"
April smiled for the first time since they'd entered the room. "Robert knows the general bones of our association with UNCLE. I'll have to explain it to him later, of course."
"And then she'll have to shoot me," Robert quipped. "Too bad. I was really getting into this secret agent thing."
"I'm sure you would've made a grand one, dear." April patted his hand. "But you'd better promise not to talk or I will."
"I have another question," Ducky said. "Does this UNCLE organization still exist… and is Illya still wanted by them?"
April and Mark glanced at each other but Mark answered. "We're not at liberty to say officially… however, I did make inquiries. Illya's dossier was retired years ago… rendered inactive and later presumed deceased."
"Does this mean you're free to come out of the closet, Illya?" Ducky asked.
Illya and Elise exchanged long looks before he spoke. "It is too late to turn back the clock, brother. Even if I could, I would not wish to." To his former associates he said, "You must accept that the man I was—the man you knew—is dead. The odds are against our paths ever again crossing. When you leave here, you must pretend this never happened and that we were never acquainted."
As her companions nodded their heads in understanding, April's nails were once again drumming the table. "We might have a teensy weensy little problem with that, Illya."
"What do you mean?" He instantly went on the defensive.
"That couple having a spat in the library? If I'm not mistaken they're our mutual granddaughter Veronica and her piano-playing boyfriend—your grandson Elijah."
############
4:15pm in the great room… wherein someone's clock is cleaned…
The physical portion of the assault appeared to be over as Ronnie towered over the stunned Eli. "You'd better have a reasonable explanation for disappearing like that… and not even calling to let me know you were all right."
"I do… I have..."
"Then stand up like a man and start talking."
"You gonna hit me again?"
"It depends. I might… if don't like what I hear."
Eli staggered to his feet and dropped into an easy chair facing the one Ronnie appropriated. He could almost feel himself turning to stone under her Medusian glare, afraid to so much as swipe at the water trickling down his face from his soaked hair.
"Let's have it then."
"It's complicated," Eli protested. "A lot's happened since…"
She checked her watch with an ostentatious flourish. "The cliffnotes summation, if you please. You've got five minutes."
The accounting poured out in a rush of what, on the surface, seemed utter nonsense—the threat of thugs tailing him to get to his grandfather, the escape aided and abetted by Jack, the skunk interlude, the accident with the children, the uncharged cell phone, the revelation of a previously unknown great-uncle, the attack by persons unknown…
"So that's why I had to cover my tracks and leave without notice. Couldn't risk involving you or the others. The less you knew about where I went, the safer we'd all be… and…"
"Stop," Ronnie commanded, checking her watch again. "Your five minutes are up. Let me think about this."
Eli sat perfectly still, waiting for her to render her decision on his patently ridiculous recitation. Ronnie's expression grew pensive as she leaned forward, elbows on knees and hands steepled under chin. He thought… hoped… he detected a softening of attitude.
"That is such an absurd tale I'm inclined to believe it."
"I swear it's all true… you can ask my mother, my grandfather."
A crease appeared between the girl's eyes as she pondered. "Your grandfather… he's the man in the picture, isn't he?" She was of course speaking of the photograph that had caused her meltdown that afternoon in her dorm room.
"Yeah."
"So he was some kind of covert government agent during the Cold War, like my grandparents."
"Yeah."
"That lends credence to your story but doesn't absolve your lack of communication, Eli."
"I know. Sorry about that. I meant to answer your texts, then things went out of control. I put it off too long. I guess I chickened out, afraid you'd be too mad to ever talk to me again."
"Oh, I was mad, all right… and sick with worry that something had happened to you and I'd never see you again."
"Yet here we are."
"You can wipe that stupid grin off your face. I haven't forgiven you… yet."
############
Meanwhile, in the library… a meeting adjourns…
Elise glanced at her wristwatch. "Oh my stars and garters! We've been in here almost an hour. We must get back to our other guests before they start leaving. Everyone will be wondering what's become of us."
"My love, I imagine they are all too busy eating to have noticed our absence," Illya advised drolly. "And speaking of food…"
"Yes, yes… of course. We'd better hurry or there'll be nothing left but crumbs."
Now the air had been cleared, there really wasn't enough time left to engage in anecdotal remembrances or catching up on the adventures of April and Mark in the three decades since Illya and Elise had last seen them. No discussion of the past could continue once they left the confines of the library… not here anyway. It was agreed, however, that it would be perfectly natural for the Harts and Slates to initiate a new friendship with the Bauers, which could lead to social occasions in the future… particularly if such association happened to coincide with a romantic liaison between their respective grandchildren.
"I'd ask you to stay over but we're packed to the rafters as is," Elise put forth delicately.
"Thank you for the thought," April answered. "As we're summering in Bodega Bay it would be silly not to return home this evening."
As they moved toward the door, Mark snapped his fingers. "Oh, one last thing… after that last mission of yours and Napoleon's—in '85, I believe—we lost all contact with him."
"As did we, I am afraid."
"We've heard conflicting reports about his whereabouts. Some say he's passed away. Others claim he's changed his name and is working for the CIA or some other such secret organization. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you, Illya?"
"No. Sorry. We do not."
############
4:45pm in the great room… true love never runs smooth…
Regarding Ronnie through a rapidly swelling eye, Eli felt a sudden fluttering in the general area of his heart, a somewhat unpleasant constriction in his gut, and a blinding flash of illumination. She wasn't just the lovely girl he'd been privileged to make love with during those few short weeks in Montana… she was the woman he was in love with. Common sense evaporated in a cloud of euphoria as he dropped to his knees and reached for her hands.
Eluding his grasp, she ruffled his hair before firmly pushing him away. "Before you ask what I suspect you're about to ask, don't."
"Why not?" Eli pleaded. "I love you, Veronica Slate. I want us to be together."
"It's an inviting proposition and the feeling is mutual, but…"
"But what? I want to marry you!"
"There are any number of reasons why that's just not on."
"Like what?"
"Let me count the ways… first of all, have you finished university?"
"Not yet… but I will. I promise."
"Do you have a job or any sort of meaningful occupation?"
"Not exactly."
"Do you have a plan in place for your future?"
"Not as such… but I swear I'm working on it."
Ronnie sighed. "You have a lot of growing up yet to do, Eli."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"How about you stop being sorry for everything and just get on with it?"
Eli was crushed. "Does this mean no… or never?"
"It means let's see how we go forward as friends. I just graduated. My career is just beginning. At least, I hope it is. I won't have time for any sort of long-term commitment, much less marriage."
"But… when will I ever see you? You'll be back in England."
"No. I won't. I'm staying in Bodega Bay for the summer with my grandparents. After that I've decided to live in the Bay Area or Los Angeles. We'll have opportunities to see each other until summer's over. After that, only time will tell."
It wasn't what Eli wanted to hear but he realized the truth of her words and resolved that he'd win this woman… one way or another… and sooner rather than later.