It had been an hour since Illya Kuryakin had purloined the plans for Thrush's latest insidious weapon, from a satrapy hidden deep in the countryside. He had been unable to get back to his vehicle, thanks to his escape route being blocked by guards, which had left him with no option but to escape on foot. Unfortunately, Illya's visit hadn't gone unnoticed and he soon found himself being hunted.
Despite being a physically fit man, evading his pursuers for an hour soon took its toll on Illya. He needed to find somewhere to lay low in order to get his breath back and until he could get away freely. After a further ten minutes, Illya found what he was looking for.
Nestled at one side of a large orchard was a small house and, a little way from that there was a small stable. Finding some extra strength from somewhere, Illya wasted no time in sprinting to the stable. Inside, he came face to face with a large black stallion.
The animal immediately became agitated at the sudden intrusion, and began to snort and stamp its foot. Having spent time with Cossacks in his youth, Illya had no fear of horses, and had learned few tricks to calm them. He held his arms wide and slowly moved towards the animal, at the same time whispering in low, calm tone. He wasn't saying anything in particular, as the tone mattered more than the words. The horse quickly settled and allowed Illya to approach.
"I am going to hide under your straw," he told it, as though it understand. "Please don't let my shadows find me."
Illya soon buried himself beneath the pile of straw in the corner of the stable. He only had to wait for five minutes before the two Thrushies who were on his tail burst in. The horse instantly seemed to lose its mind. It reared up violently and neighed loudly. The two goons pressed themselves against the wall in abject fear.
"There's no way he's hiding in here," the taller of the two told his companion. "That thing would've killed him if he'd tried."
"What about the house?" the other asked.
"I doubt it. The goody-goody U.N.C.L.E. agents wouldn't endanger the public."
"I guess we keep going then."
The Thrushies left the stable, to their obvious relief, and continued their search. Illya waited for a while before emerging from his cover. He patted the horse's neck in gratitude, and thanked it for its help.
"I shall not forget this, my friend."
With his communicator, Illya contacted HQ and explained his situation. He was told to head off the opposite direction to the thrushmen, and to keep the locator signal open on his communicator. A helicopter was being dispatched as he spoke. Ordinarily, Waverly wouldn't have sent a helicopter, but he was keen to have the plans in Illya's possession as soon as possible.
A few days later, Mr and Mrs Phillips, the owners of the orchard, received a package addressed to 'The Horse'. Inside, they found an exquisite, and quite expensive, grooming kit. They never found out who sent it.