He ran, as fast as he was able, through the corridors of U.N.C.L.E. Everyone who saw him, and the look of fear on his face, hurriedly stepped out of his way. The man was on a mission and God help anyone who got in the way.
Reaching his destination, he burst through the doors, only to be greeted by the sad faces of the staff. One of the women looked particularly distraught.
He was too late.
"I'm sorry Mr Kuryakin," said the cook wretchedly. "I had a plate of goulash put aside for you, but it was somehow given away."