ACT IV : "Her Expense Account Must Rival Yours."
The cave was comfortably warm; the rock walls soaked up the fire's heat and radiated it back over the pair of agents. Illya lay flat on his back, his useless left arm draped over his stomach, his awareness drifting in and out. Solo got little direction from his electronics wiz partner, and worked very carefully on the tag in the dim light. The device, once removed from its protective housing, could be compressed to fit the locket but the external planting of the device increased the danger of detection. Solo hoped that Kozlov didn't open the pendant on a regular basis.
Illya rolled his head in Solo's direction and fought to keep his eyes open. "Where's the girl?" His voice was soft.
"She's shopping with April." That was all Napoleon was willing to tell his partner right now.
The resulting chortle was short and weak, and the foggy blue eyes disappeared behind suddenly heavy lids. "April is worse than you."
Solo chuckled as he worked on attaching a shortened wire. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good."
"Her expense account must rival yours." Illya tried to sit up, but only managed to raise his head a few inches from the floor. "I'm cold."
Napoleon immediately put down the device and checked his partner's forehead. He felt warm. "Actually, you have a fever. You need to stay covered." He made sure the bag was tucked in and couldn't help but notice Illya's shivering. Where the hell are you, Timmons? He thought. He glanced at his watch and saw he'd been gone almost three hours. Unconsciously he bit his lip and looked at Illya's face.
The poor lighting did nothing to help the shadows from looking like bruises on the pale Slavic features. Illya's hair was a rumpled mess, and his cheeks hollow. Solo checked the pulse at his friend's warm neck. It was racing.
"The doctor will be here soon." He checked the circulation in his partner's left hand and was satisfied. Solo realized Illya hadn't responded. "Illya?" He was unconscious. "Damn it," Solo spit. "Where's Timmons?" He forced his attention back on the device feeling quite useless.
It was just shy an additional hour when Timmons, Slate and April returned, ice frozen to their hair and snow covering their coats.
"It's beginning to storm again," Mark said as he brushed off. "April needs to get going. Is the tag ready?"
"I have four dresses waiting in the car. Not a whole lot to choose from in town!"
"Here," Solo gave her the device. "Let me know when Kat's ready to place the device. Get going."
"Well, good afternoon to you, too." She said grumpily as she stashed the tag inside a small metal box that also contained tailor's pins. "How's Illya?"
"Out cold and feverish. We need to get to work." He made himself pause, and take a breath. Apologetically, he smiled at April. "He'll be fine. Now can we get this over with?"
April smiled back and threw a mock salute. "Piece of cake, captain. See ya in a while." With one lingering look in Illya's direction, she moved away and disappeared into the elements.
"Get water boiling," Timmons ordered as he stepped into the leading role.
*************
Kat had been pacing her room nervously for what seemed like days. Every time she heard a door slam or footsteps, she froze and listened carefully, wondering if her stepfather or April would arrive first.
What if she got to Adrian's room too early? Or too late? Or what if he decided not to shower at all tonight? What if he walked in on her? Kat suspected he had a violent side to him that he kept out of her sight. She'd seen an occasional security man wince when her stepfather raised his voice sometimes, and she already knew the bite of his sharp tongue. Now she wondered if he carried guns. Or knives. Or poison! You're being silly! She scolded herself. Calm down or you'll ruin everything!
At the point where she thought she would go mad, there was a rap on her door. She jumped and squeaked, "What? I mean, who is it?" She fought with her breathing to try and slow her heart. Lucya opened the door wide, and Kat felt herself smile crazily in relief at the sight of April standing behind her maid. "Oh! I'm so glad you made it!"
April stepped around the old woman, her arms piled high with dresses. "Hello, Miss Katherine. Shall we begin?"
"Oh, yes!" She turned her attention to the maid. "Thank you, Lucya. You may go now. Oh, wait."
Lucya paused in the doorway. "Yes, Miss?"
"Um, is my stepfather home yet?"
"Yes, miss, he's just arrived and is in the study."
"Thank you," Kat said warmly to her friend and thought, if you only knew what was going on! Lucya closed the door quietly. Kat turned to April immediately. "I thought you'd never get here!"
April laughed lightly in response. "Ah, the impatience of youth." She dropped the dresses and motioned for Kat to be quiet. "I've brought four dresses, miss. Which one would you like to start with?" As she spoke, the agent walked around the room and checked ledges and behind pictures.
Kat watched her, puzzled. April motioned for her to respond. "Ah, let's see here." What was she doing? April pointed to the dresses, and Kat tore her eyes from the woman to the bed and picked up the top dress. "This one looks good." She looked up and saw April rolling her hands. Keep going. "But this one is nice too." She ruffled the entire pile. Now the agent was looking at a small device in her hand. "Um, this is a nice color selection. Not too many ruffles."
"Okay, you can stop now." The trim woman slipped the gadget into a pocket. "It's clean in here." Kat's confused look made her laugh lightly. "Microphones," she said softly. "We aren't being monitored."
"Oh, my God. I hadn't thought of that." Kat sank onto the bed, shaken.
"That's what I'm her for." The older woman smiled and picked up a dress. "I think this one is particularly yummy. I may take it home with me!"
" 'Yummy'? " Kat repeated slowly. She was actually talking clothes at a time like this?
"Oh, yes." April held it up to her chest and looked into Kat's small mirror. "This would be perfect." She turned one way, then another and said cheerfully. "Come on, Kat. Lighten up! We have to wait until he's in the shower anyway. When will that be, do you think?"
With a shaky hand Kat picked up one of the dresses. It felt slinky and warm and . . . wonderful. She moved to stand next to the agent and held it up to her body. I'd never pick out a dress like this, but it is wonderfully decadent! "He has a cocktail, reads mail, and then showers before dinner."
"Creature of habit, huh? Where's your mom?"
"She's in the kitchen directing the cook. She's hands on that way." Finally her nerves felt intact again because of the chatter and self admiration, and Kat realized that was April's plan all along. She was good. "How's Illya?"
April's lips pursed. "I don't know. They were preparing to operate when I left."
The two women regarded their reflections in the mirror as they held the dresses up to their bodies. It made the idea of what was going on in the cave seem so unreal, just like the framed reflection before them.
*******
"How much left in the bag?" Timmons forehead was shiny with perspiration and furrowed in concentration. His eyes never left the field below him.
"About half. A little under." Mark was holding the i.v. fluid bag at Illya's head and watching the patient's breathing.
The scene in the cave was straight out of a B-movie, Solo thought as he glanced nervously around. His jobs were to hand Timmons equipment and apply chloroform as needed to keep the patient unconscious. Even with the clean, white sheets over, under and around Illya glowing brightly in the light of strategically placed lanterns couldn't cover the primitive setting of the cave. They were on their knees and the patient on the floor. There were no monitoring devices, no shiny appointments, sterile facilities or cute nurses. This was a cross between Ben Casey and Tarzan.
Timmons had not been happy about the fever, but there was nothing he could do about it except inject antibiotics into the i.v. He'd swathed Illya with iodine, unwrapped some sterile scalpels, forceps and clamps, and then talked Solo through the anesthesia. Illya had come around during preparations but wasn't aware of his surrounds. He'd mumbled a few incomprehensible words, struggled very little at the application of the chloroform, and dropped off easily enough. Solo felt a little guilty and moved on to the next step.
The doctor continued to frown as he hunched his shoulders in concentration.
"Isn't this taking longer than you expected?" Solo asked. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the open, bloody hole in his partner's upper back.
"I haven't located the bullet yet," Timmons grunted. "It's deeper than I thought and I have to avoid some sensitive areas. Forehead."
Solo wiped the perspiration away before it dripped into the cavity.
"How do you know where to look? He was shot from the front."
Timmon's attention wasn't diverted at all by the conversation. "It has to be here. It's the only area that accounts for the paralysis. An x-ray would have been nice. Maybe we should have dragged one of those machines down here."
"Along with either a generator or the world's longest extension cord. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you aren't the doctor. I knew I should have been in charge of this debacle. Clamp."
Solo laughed. His back was killing him from bending over and he knew Timmons must be in worse shape. You wouldn't know it to look at him, though, and a feeling of appreciation washed over the worried agent.
"I feel something." Timmons' fingers slowed as he searched the opening. After a moment he froze, then carefully drew out the forceps. A metallic lump was clamped between the teeth. "Got it." He dropped the item in a shallow cup and began to close.
Solo and Slate's shoulders relaxed and their faces brightened considerably.
"It's about time." Mark growled good naturedly. "My arm was falling asleep."
Timmons had the wound closed in very short time,and was putting in the final stitches when Solo's communicator beeped.
"Solo here."
"Kat's going in now, Napoleon. Kozlov's in the shower, right on schedule."
"It's about time something went right. Solo out."
********* Wearing the satin gown she'd first picked up Kat made her way down the hall in her bare feet to the large master bedroom while holding the front hem up off the floor with both hands. She knew her stepfather usually left the ring and pendant on his dresser when he showered, so it should be easy enough to place the tag if only her hands weren't shaking so much. She was glad of the handful of dress; it covered her trembling.
She nodded at the sentry in the hall, now realizing that it was probably odd that someone was always posted on the upper floors. It had been this way as long as she could remember, but now that she knew the activities of Adrian Kozlov, the sentry seemed ominous and she felt practically naked in front of him.
She slipped into the room and felt that her hands were awfully sweaty. She started to wipe her hands on the gown, thought better of that, and used the curtains instead. "I always hated that material," she mumbled to calm her nerves.
The dresser was across the room. She quickly crossed the space and picked up the pendant. She started to open it when a file on the dresser caught her eye. It was one of those black folders with the white bird symbol on the cover. Before she could stop herself, she picked it up and opened it.
It was rows and rows of total nonsense. Numbers and words mixed together with odd symbols that she didn't recognize. She realized it was a code. Something that needed to be in code must be important, she thought. Quickly, she took the top sheet and stuffed it down the front of her dress. She replaced the folder and turned her attention to the pendant.
The sound of the bedroom door opening made her heart stop.
"Katherine, my dear, what are you doing in here?" Viktoriya Kozlov's voice was light and edged in curiosity.
Kat spun around in surprise. The pendant swung brightly from her hand.
"What are you doing with Adrian's pendant?" Kat's mother closed the door and moved toward her, smiling. "That dress in beautiful, but isn't it a little revealing for a girl your age?"
"Huh?" Kat blinked and looked down, forgetting completely about the dress. Her mind kicked into gear. "Um, I don't think so, mother, but I came in there to look in your full length mirrors." Relief washed over her. It was a plausible lie for her being in here, but what about the necklace? "I, ah, was using the mirrors and I saw the pendant and it struck me that I've never seen what's inside." She dropped her head and looked at the necklace so her mother couldn't see her eyes. She knew her eyes always gave her away to her mother.
Viktoriya laughed and took the necklace. "I suppose it's not snooping. It's a picture of me. See?" Kat's mother had popped open the locket and showed Kat the photo. "I gave it to him the day we married."
"Oh." Kat was strangely disappointed. She'd expected something more diabolical. She gently took the necklace from her mother and turned away from her while she reached into her bra for the tag. She kept talking to distract her mother. "What's for dinner?"
As Viktoriya recited the menu, Kat retrieved the tag, positioned it in the locket and snapped it shut. Her mother had moved to the closet to change for dinner, so replacing the necklace was easy.
"I'm going to change, too." With the butterflies in her stomach finally gone, Kat let out a breath of relief and crossed to the door.
"Kat." Her mother's tone made her stop in her tracks. She turned slowly. "Please try on something else. For me?"
The girl relaxed, and smiled. "Sure, mother." When she finally made it to her room, her knees gave out and she collapsed on the bed. "I did it!"
April smiled hugely. "Good girl," and gave her a hug.
"And I got this." She pulled out the paper and handed it over to the surprised agent. April took it and frowned. The THRUSH symbol in the letter head was unmistakable.
"Kat, you shouldn't have done this. You could have been caught!" Agent Dancer was suddenly very angry, and her voice made that very clear.
Kat was stunned. "But I was helping. . ."
"You've done your job and we're grateful, but this was way over the line. He's going to miss this, and very soon I should think." April's eyes turned hard. She carefully slipped the slightly crinkled paper it in her apron's wide pocket. "We can't put it back now. Kat, you have to listen to me." Her voice softened at the struck look on the girl's face. She put her hands on the girl's shoulders. "You're done. You're out of it. You have to forget us now. When your stepfather finds this missing, you need to implicate me, understand? Tell them I was with you in the room."
"I . . . I can't. There's a guard in the hall. He'll remember."
"Then tell them you left me alone for awhile. Put the blame on me. DO NOT try and explain the disappearance. You don't know anything."
"All right, all right, but what about Illya? I need to know he's okay."
"You don't need to know anything." April's voice was sharp-edged sympathy as she gathered up the dresses. Kat slipped out of hers and into a robe, and held the dress out for April. She was terribly shaken by the woman's anger, and it showed clearly on her face even through the defiant expression she tried to display. April sighed. "We'll try to get word to you, somehow. I have to get out of here and warn the others." She hugged the dresses in close. "Thank you, Kat, but go back to your life. This is no business for a teenager, especially if you want to live to be an adult."
Katherine nodded miserably as the UNCLE agent let herself out of the room. She wondered if she'd ever hear from any of them again.
The cave was comfortably warm; the rock walls soaked up the fire's heat and radiated it back over the pair of agents. Illya lay flat on his back, his useless left arm draped over his stomach, his awareness drifting in and out. Solo got little direction from his electronics wiz partner, and worked very carefully on the tag in the dim light. The device, once removed from its protective housing, could be compressed to fit the locket but the external planting of the device increased the danger of detection. Solo hoped that Kozlov didn't open the pendant on a regular basis.
Illya rolled his head in Solo's direction and fought to keep his eyes open. "Where's the girl?" His voice was soft.
"She's shopping with April." That was all Napoleon was willing to tell his partner right now.
The resulting chortle was short and weak, and the foggy blue eyes disappeared behind suddenly heavy lids. "April is worse than you."
Solo chuckled as he worked on attaching a shortened wire. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to look good."
"Her expense account must rival yours." Illya tried to sit up, but only managed to raise his head a few inches from the floor. "I'm cold."
Napoleon immediately put down the device and checked his partner's forehead. He felt warm. "Actually, you have a fever. You need to stay covered." He made sure the bag was tucked in and couldn't help but notice Illya's shivering. Where the hell are you, Timmons? He thought. He glanced at his watch and saw he'd been gone almost three hours. Unconsciously he bit his lip and looked at Illya's face.
The poor lighting did nothing to help the shadows from looking like bruises on the pale Slavic features. Illya's hair was a rumpled mess, and his cheeks hollow. Solo checked the pulse at his friend's warm neck. It was racing.
"The doctor will be here soon." He checked the circulation in his partner's left hand and was satisfied. Solo realized Illya hadn't responded. "Illya?" He was unconscious. "Damn it," Solo spit. "Where's Timmons?" He forced his attention back on the device feeling quite useless.
It was just shy an additional hour when Timmons, Slate and April returned, ice frozen to their hair and snow covering their coats.
"It's beginning to storm again," Mark said as he brushed off. "April needs to get going. Is the tag ready?"
"I have four dresses waiting in the car. Not a whole lot to choose from in town!"
"Here," Solo gave her the device. "Let me know when Kat's ready to place the device. Get going."
"Well, good afternoon to you, too." She said grumpily as she stashed the tag inside a small metal box that also contained tailor's pins. "How's Illya?"
"Out cold and feverish. We need to get to work." He made himself pause, and take a breath. Apologetically, he smiled at April. "He'll be fine. Now can we get this over with?"
April smiled back and threw a mock salute. "Piece of cake, captain. See ya in a while." With one lingering look in Illya's direction, she moved away and disappeared into the elements.
"Get water boiling," Timmons ordered as he stepped into the leading role.
*************
Kat had been pacing her room nervously for what seemed like days. Every time she heard a door slam or footsteps, she froze and listened carefully, wondering if her stepfather or April would arrive first.
What if she got to Adrian's room too early? Or too late? Or what if he decided not to shower at all tonight? What if he walked in on her? Kat suspected he had a violent side to him that he kept out of her sight. She'd seen an occasional security man wince when her stepfather raised his voice sometimes, and she already knew the bite of his sharp tongue. Now she wondered if he carried guns. Or knives. Or poison! You're being silly! She scolded herself. Calm down or you'll ruin everything!
At the point where she thought she would go mad, there was a rap on her door. She jumped and squeaked, "What? I mean, who is it?" She fought with her breathing to try and slow her heart. Lucya opened the door wide, and Kat felt herself smile crazily in relief at the sight of April standing behind her maid. "Oh! I'm so glad you made it!"
April stepped around the old woman, her arms piled high with dresses. "Hello, Miss Katherine. Shall we begin?"
"Oh, yes!" She turned her attention to the maid. "Thank you, Lucya. You may go now. Oh, wait."
Lucya paused in the doorway. "Yes, Miss?"
"Um, is my stepfather home yet?"
"Yes, miss, he's just arrived and is in the study."
"Thank you," Kat said warmly to her friend and thought, if you only knew what was going on! Lucya closed the door quietly. Kat turned to April immediately. "I thought you'd never get here!"
April laughed lightly in response. "Ah, the impatience of youth." She dropped the dresses and motioned for Kat to be quiet. "I've brought four dresses, miss. Which one would you like to start with?" As she spoke, the agent walked around the room and checked ledges and behind pictures.
Kat watched her, puzzled. April motioned for her to respond. "Ah, let's see here." What was she doing? April pointed to the dresses, and Kat tore her eyes from the woman to the bed and picked up the top dress. "This one looks good." She looked up and saw April rolling her hands. Keep going. "But this one is nice too." She ruffled the entire pile. Now the agent was looking at a small device in her hand. "Um, this is a nice color selection. Not too many ruffles."
"Okay, you can stop now." The trim woman slipped the gadget into a pocket. "It's clean in here." Kat's confused look made her laugh lightly. "Microphones," she said softly. "We aren't being monitored."
"Oh, my God. I hadn't thought of that." Kat sank onto the bed, shaken.
"That's what I'm her for." The older woman smiled and picked up a dress. "I think this one is particularly yummy. I may take it home with me!"
" 'Yummy'? " Kat repeated slowly. She was actually talking clothes at a time like this?
"Oh, yes." April held it up to her chest and looked into Kat's small mirror. "This would be perfect." She turned one way, then another and said cheerfully. "Come on, Kat. Lighten up! We have to wait until he's in the shower anyway. When will that be, do you think?"
With a shaky hand Kat picked up one of the dresses. It felt slinky and warm and . . . wonderful. She moved to stand next to the agent and held it up to her body. I'd never pick out a dress like this, but it is wonderfully decadent! "He has a cocktail, reads mail, and then showers before dinner."
"Creature of habit, huh? Where's your mom?"
"She's in the kitchen directing the cook. She's hands on that way." Finally her nerves felt intact again because of the chatter and self admiration, and Kat realized that was April's plan all along. She was good. "How's Illya?"
April's lips pursed. "I don't know. They were preparing to operate when I left."
The two women regarded their reflections in the mirror as they held the dresses up to their bodies. It made the idea of what was going on in the cave seem so unreal, just like the framed reflection before them.
*******
"How much left in the bag?" Timmons forehead was shiny with perspiration and furrowed in concentration. His eyes never left the field below him.
"About half. A little under." Mark was holding the i.v. fluid bag at Illya's head and watching the patient's breathing.
The scene in the cave was straight out of a B-movie, Solo thought as he glanced nervously around. His jobs were to hand Timmons equipment and apply chloroform as needed to keep the patient unconscious. Even with the clean, white sheets over, under and around Illya glowing brightly in the light of strategically placed lanterns couldn't cover the primitive setting of the cave. They were on their knees and the patient on the floor. There were no monitoring devices, no shiny appointments, sterile facilities or cute nurses. This was a cross between Ben Casey and Tarzan.
Timmons had not been happy about the fever, but there was nothing he could do about it except inject antibiotics into the i.v. He'd swathed Illya with iodine, unwrapped some sterile scalpels, forceps and clamps, and then talked Solo through the anesthesia. Illya had come around during preparations but wasn't aware of his surrounds. He'd mumbled a few incomprehensible words, struggled very little at the application of the chloroform, and dropped off easily enough. Solo felt a little guilty and moved on to the next step.
The doctor continued to frown as he hunched his shoulders in concentration.
"Isn't this taking longer than you expected?" Solo asked. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the open, bloody hole in his partner's upper back.
"I haven't located the bullet yet," Timmons grunted. "It's deeper than I thought and I have to avoid some sensitive areas. Forehead."
Solo wiped the perspiration away before it dripped into the cavity.
"How do you know where to look? He was shot from the front."
Timmon's attention wasn't diverted at all by the conversation. "It has to be here. It's the only area that accounts for the paralysis. An x-ray would have been nice. Maybe we should have dragged one of those machines down here."
"Along with either a generator or the world's longest extension cord. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because you aren't the doctor. I knew I should have been in charge of this debacle. Clamp."
Solo laughed. His back was killing him from bending over and he knew Timmons must be in worse shape. You wouldn't know it to look at him, though, and a feeling of appreciation washed over the worried agent.
"I feel something." Timmons' fingers slowed as he searched the opening. After a moment he froze, then carefully drew out the forceps. A metallic lump was clamped between the teeth. "Got it." He dropped the item in a shallow cup and began to close.
Solo and Slate's shoulders relaxed and their faces brightened considerably.
"It's about time." Mark growled good naturedly. "My arm was falling asleep."
Timmons had the wound closed in very short time,and was putting in the final stitches when Solo's communicator beeped.
"Solo here."
"Kat's going in now, Napoleon. Kozlov's in the shower, right on schedule."
"It's about time something went right. Solo out."
********* Wearing the satin gown she'd first picked up Kat made her way down the hall in her bare feet to the large master bedroom while holding the front hem up off the floor with both hands. She knew her stepfather usually left the ring and pendant on his dresser when he showered, so it should be easy enough to place the tag if only her hands weren't shaking so much. She was glad of the handful of dress; it covered her trembling.
She nodded at the sentry in the hall, now realizing that it was probably odd that someone was always posted on the upper floors. It had been this way as long as she could remember, but now that she knew the activities of Adrian Kozlov, the sentry seemed ominous and she felt practically naked in front of him.
She slipped into the room and felt that her hands were awfully sweaty. She started to wipe her hands on the gown, thought better of that, and used the curtains instead. "I always hated that material," she mumbled to calm her nerves.
The dresser was across the room. She quickly crossed the space and picked up the pendant. She started to open it when a file on the dresser caught her eye. It was one of those black folders with the white bird symbol on the cover. Before she could stop herself, she picked it up and opened it.
It was rows and rows of total nonsense. Numbers and words mixed together with odd symbols that she didn't recognize. She realized it was a code. Something that needed to be in code must be important, she thought. Quickly, she took the top sheet and stuffed it down the front of her dress. She replaced the folder and turned her attention to the pendant.
The sound of the bedroom door opening made her heart stop.
"Katherine, my dear, what are you doing in here?" Viktoriya Kozlov's voice was light and edged in curiosity.
Kat spun around in surprise. The pendant swung brightly from her hand.
"What are you doing with Adrian's pendant?" Kat's mother closed the door and moved toward her, smiling. "That dress in beautiful, but isn't it a little revealing for a girl your age?"
"Huh?" Kat blinked and looked down, forgetting completely about the dress. Her mind kicked into gear. "Um, I don't think so, mother, but I came in there to look in your full length mirrors." Relief washed over her. It was a plausible lie for her being in here, but what about the necklace? "I, ah, was using the mirrors and I saw the pendant and it struck me that I've never seen what's inside." She dropped her head and looked at the necklace so her mother couldn't see her eyes. She knew her eyes always gave her away to her mother.
Viktoriya laughed and took the necklace. "I suppose it's not snooping. It's a picture of me. See?" Kat's mother had popped open the locket and showed Kat the photo. "I gave it to him the day we married."
"Oh." Kat was strangely disappointed. She'd expected something more diabolical. She gently took the necklace from her mother and turned away from her while she reached into her bra for the tag. She kept talking to distract her mother. "What's for dinner?"
As Viktoriya recited the menu, Kat retrieved the tag, positioned it in the locket and snapped it shut. Her mother had moved to the closet to change for dinner, so replacing the necklace was easy.
"I'm going to change, too." With the butterflies in her stomach finally gone, Kat let out a breath of relief and crossed to the door.
"Kat." Her mother's tone made her stop in her tracks. She turned slowly. "Please try on something else. For me?"
The girl relaxed, and smiled. "Sure, mother." When she finally made it to her room, her knees gave out and she collapsed on the bed. "I did it!"
April smiled hugely. "Good girl," and gave her a hug.
"And I got this." She pulled out the paper and handed it over to the surprised agent. April took it and frowned. The THRUSH symbol in the letter head was unmistakable.
"Kat, you shouldn't have done this. You could have been caught!" Agent Dancer was suddenly very angry, and her voice made that very clear.
Kat was stunned. "But I was helping. . ."
"You've done your job and we're grateful, but this was way over the line. He's going to miss this, and very soon I should think." April's eyes turned hard. She carefully slipped the slightly crinkled paper it in her apron's wide pocket. "We can't put it back now. Kat, you have to listen to me." Her voice softened at the struck look on the girl's face. She put her hands on the girl's shoulders. "You're done. You're out of it. You have to forget us now. When your stepfather finds this missing, you need to implicate me, understand? Tell them I was with you in the room."
"I . . . I can't. There's a guard in the hall. He'll remember."
"Then tell them you left me alone for awhile. Put the blame on me. DO NOT try and explain the disappearance. You don't know anything."
"All right, all right, but what about Illya? I need to know he's okay."
"You don't need to know anything." April's voice was sharp-edged sympathy as she gathered up the dresses. Kat slipped out of hers and into a robe, and held the dress out for April. She was terribly shaken by the woman's anger, and it showed clearly on her face even through the defiant expression she tried to display. April sighed. "We'll try to get word to you, somehow. I have to get out of here and warn the others." She hugged the dresses in close. "Thank you, Kat, but go back to your life. This is no business for a teenager, especially if you want to live to be an adult."
Katherine nodded miserably as the UNCLE agent let herself out of the room. She wondered if she'd ever hear from any of them again.