The tension in the room was centered on the young woman with the jet black hair. Napoleon, April, Illya and Mark were staring at her with expressions hard as stone. No one was sympathetic or likely to understand why Suzi Chen had found herself involved with a group of revolutionaries intent on seizing power from Sukarno.

When she finally spoke, her voice was small and delicate, like a child caught in the act of some naughtiness, unsure of her eventual punishment but hopeful of pity at least.

"I … No one was supposed to die." Suzi's head was lowered, a gesture of shame. She looked up from beneath the bangs that hung over her eyebrows to gauge the response.

"Is that supposed to mollify us? Someone did die, two people are dead Miss Chen." Illya's voice was icy, his familiarity with the violence of revolution and political upheaval a too near thing.

"There is a path to revolution, Mr. Kuryakin. You know it well, but in this case, at this time, no one was supposed to die." Her voice trailed off as she repeated what sounded like a mantra of sorts. Napoleon thought she might be in shock, his natural affinity for women was supplanting his abhorrence of the death he had just witnessed.

"Did someone promise you a …' Napoleon knew the others would want quick answers, he just wasn't certain they would come.

''Who told you, who is responsible for breaking your trust Suzi?" Appealing to her wounded sense of honor might help break through the wall she was building with each passing second.

"I am a Section III agent of the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. I stand with the vision of the Command, but…' She saw Sharon's body out of the corner of her eye, remembered the report of Dave Roger's death. Her voice cracked as she thought back to hearing how one of the team had shot an UNCLE agent. She knew Dave, he was also out of the Hong Kong office. And now he was dead, and a CIA agent was dead. If Sukarno's government didn't hang her, the Americans would.

"I want a deal! I was brought into this in order to relay pertinent information to those in charge. They only wanted to start a movement to counter what Sukarno is doing, arming militants to support his move towards aligning with China, and imprisoning members of the Murba Party. He is president for life, and he is running this country into the ground with his narcissistic need for ultimate control.' She looked around at each of the agents in the room, pleading for understanding.

"He even controls what books can be published. Did you know that?" Illya immediately thought back to the prohibitions in the Soviet Union. Didn't Suzi realize that in the Murba Party's attempt to align themselves with the USSR, they were in league with the same type of censorship being practiced by Sukarno's government?

"You see wrongs and you want to make it right? Two people are dead Miss Chen. How does that figure into your agenda?" If Kuryakin didn't empathize with her, none of the others would.

"Dave Rogers infiltrated the party by associating with several members and feigning interest, promising support. He was discovered and… Every group has zealots. Dave got in the way of some and lost his life."

"And Sharon? Why was she killed?" Napoleon was gaining his perspective, taking back the authority of his position as a senior member of the UNCLE organization.

Suzi looked less timid, almost defiant. She had a cause and she believed in it. A calm began to come over her, a clear vision of her purpose in life, of the righteousness of what she believed.

"I am sorry for her death, but the CIA and the British are willing to help whoever will pledge allegiance to their pursuits. They want to take down Sukarno for his Communist leanings, but what then? All we gain is another power hungry puppet, and Indonesia is still unable to fulfill its destiny." Illya was perplexed about something, and it seemed an obvious hole in Chen's story.

"You are Chinese. The Murba Party wants to side with the Soviets. I do not understand your allegiance to it." Suzi smiled at the observation. Of course Kuryakin would seize on it.

"My mother was Russian, she and my father met at a scientific convention in Hong Kong. She was able to arrange to stay there and was attached to the diplomatic mission. It was highly unusual, the Hong Kong government were very unfriendly to the Russians.' She looked again at Illya, trying to gauge his reaction to this narration.

"I was brought up in the Hong Kong culture, but very aware of my mother's legacy and the love she had for her country. I am quite willing to pledge allegiance to that, having witnessed the cruelty of Mao's China among so many refugees."

It was a story, a history of sorts. What is was not was a good reason for people to be dead in its wake.

"Will you tell us who is behind this, this movement?" Napoleon thought it was little in exchange for the lives of two people. He detested the rationalizations people used to wage war, to ravage a country with more hatred, more chaos.

"I will. Will you give me amnesty?" April and Mark had sat down during all of this, but at the sound of someone entering the bar they both got up to see to the arrival of medical personnel, and the police. Napoleon needed to make a decision about what to do with Suzi Chen. She was involved in something that had to do with the country they were in, but she was a member of UNCLE. Illya instinctively knew what his partner was thinking and pulled out his communicator. He had Mr. Waverly before the gurney was brought into the bar.

"Waverly here, what is it Mr. Kuryakin?" Sometimes the sound of the Old Man's voice really did seem like an anchor amidst very stormy waters.

"Sir, we have a situation."

The details were given to Waverly as Mark and April oversaw the activity concerning Sharon and the man who had shot her. He was taken into custody with explanations about his fellow conspirators. Suzi was already giving out information, cooperating with the local authorities even as they were calling in government officials to oversee what would ensue in the way of an investigation.

"Miss Chen, you are to go with the police. April, will you go with her and make sure nothing …?' The unspoken suggestion that Suzi Chen might be harmed or tortured was met with a nod of affirmation from April.

"All right, Mark… why don't you go with them. Keep it above board."

"You've got it. See you … where?" Mark knew this little island jaunt was about over. Waverly didn't usually waste money or time on letting his agents linger at the scene.

"We'll meet you at Ngurah Rai airport. Are your bags packed?"

"Every day mate. Every day." Napoleon forced a small smile, the habits of a Section II included always being ready to leave, the bags always packed.

"We'll see you there then. Miss Chen will be handled by the Hong Kong office. We're all done here."

Waverly notified Hong Kong of the situation and was assured agents would be on the scene before the end of the day. April and Mark would be relieved of their duties concerning Suzie Chen, and head for the airport.

Napoleon and Illya watched as their two friends joined the parade of people leaving the bar. Sharon's body was enveloped in the usual black body bag; the local police would no doubt contact the appropriate people. Napoleon wondered if Roger Durning would show up to handle things. A long sigh escaped as his thoughts turned to the one night he had spent with Sharon.

"You alright?" Illya disrupted the memory.

"Yeah, I'm just dandy.' It wasn't sarcastic, but he looked at his friend to try and eclipse any sort of offense.

"Illya, sorry if that sounded …" Illya patted him on the back as they headed out towards the beach.

"It didn't sound like anything my friend. You know what?" For some reason that made Napoleon smile.

"No, what?"

"I've had enough of this paradise. I think I miss the noise and grime of New York. What do you say we go home?"

Napoleon straightened his shoulders and jutted out his chin. The world was a big ball of trouble, but he was an optimist. And home was where everything was waiting for another new day, another opportunity to save the world.

"I say it's about damn time."