Chapter 2

"Loves Lost and Found."

Amy walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. She didn't try to hide her sadness from her darling Nephew. He couldn't have seen her depressed expression anyway. She walked over next to the sofa where Napoleon was sitting,

Clad only in his bathrobe, the agent leaned against the sofa arm his head rested against the thick plush stuffing. He heard a small gasp.

"Napoleon Solo!" Amy said in surprise, "If you insist on running around like that, would you at least have the decency to keep that ratty bathrobe completely closed."

Napoleon's face blush. He hadn't realized the robe wasn't covering all of him. He quickly pulled it across himself and took the extra precaution on covering himself with the blanket he had slept under the night before.

"I'm sorry Aunt Amy," he said, his voice low and sad.

She sat down beside him and he felt her soft fingers brush across his hair. He trembled. The elder woman carefully put her arm around his broad shoulders and pulled him close. Napoleon's head flopped over onto her shoulder and there they sat.

Finally Amy stood up and helped Napoleon lie down on the sofa. She gently tucked the blanket around him and kissed his cheek. The woman felt his hand take a firm grasp of her own and he pressed it to his lips giving it a tender kiss.

"My sweet little Napoleon," she whispered, her fingers once more brushed across his silky hair.

Napoleon sighed and fell back to sleep.

He could hear a soft steady breathing. Something was lying against his body and a quirky grin crossed Solo's face. He shifted slightly. There was a movement across his lap and he tried to hold back his laughter. His hand reached down and felt the soft silky smooth hair. Napoleon brushed it down in a loving stroking motion.

Napoleon felt whoever it was shift again and they edged their way slowly up his body. He smiled.

"I hope Amy isn't here," he said low, "It would be a bit awkward to have company and she walks in on us."

He felt something press against his chest. Solo instinctively pursed his lips.

Something cold pressed against his cheek and the sandpapery feel of a tongue began to lick his face. He raised his hands as the dog began to carefully shower affection on him. Solo pushed against it but to no avail.

"Hey!...Get down….What's going on?" he shouted.

The room was suddenly filled laughter. Two, no it was three different voices he heard. He sat up but the dog continued to lick his face.

"So typical of you Napoleon," a woman said, "Warm body, soft hair, and you automatically want to kiss it!"

Solo turned his head from side to side trying to hone in on the voice. He felt a hand on his shoulder and someone kissed the top of his head.

"Marnie?" he said, clasping her hand with his.

"That would be me."

"Then this must be Tag…" he said.

The dog barked in response to his name and licked Solo's face again.

"Where is…..?"

He felt someone sit on the edge of the sofa. The dog jumped down and curled up on the floor. A pair of warm soft arms wrapped around his shoulders and he felt a tickle against his ear.

"I'll lick your face latter," Jackie whispered, a smile in her voice.

She felt his arms wrap around her and he held her tight. Napoleon laughed. They released their hold and Jackie Reyno sat back looking at him.

"What are you two…" he heard a low growl, "Excuse me…you three doing here?" he asked.

"Special assignment," Marnie said.

"Babysitting?"

"Hardly Napoleon," Jackie said, her hand brushed his cheek, "Mr. Waverly decided that since Marnie was coming in anyway, we might as well all come in and act as temporary bodyguard. He's worried THRUSH might try to get….Well, we'll be here for awhile."

"Well whatever the reason…..I'm glad you're here," he said.

Bill Del Floria looked up from his press and glanced out of the front window. A skinny figure on a bicycle stopped in front of the shop, leaning the dilapidated vehicle against the cast iron railing. The rider bent down and removed the rubber bands from around their pants leg giving each a shake and the leg a rub to get the circulation going again.

The figure stood upright once more, gave their baggy blue denim jacket a shake, the bill of their oversized cap a tug, and pulled the black canvas messenger bag back to their side. A few short steps down and the door to the Tailor shop opened.

"Can I help you?" Bill asked his hand cautiously hovering on the emergency call button.

The person walked up to the counter and took the bag from around their shoulders laying it on the counter.

"Yes," a soft voice said, "I have come to see my uncle…"

Astrid lifted her face and smiled at the elder man. A look of concern crossed his face as he saw the last remnants of a bruise on her cheek.

"I know he'll be happy to see you as well," Bill said.

Del Floria quickly let Waverly know that the young woman was there. By the time she made it through the hidden fitting room panel, Alexander Waverly was waiting at reception for her. She walked thru the door and removed her cap, letting her beautiful hair fall back down to her shoulders.

She received her ID badge and went to the conference room with her boss.

"They have had my apartment under surveillance for about three months now and I know it's bugged as well," she said taking a sip of her Earl Grey tea, "Coming and going from THRUSH is one thing, but I had to disguise myself to get out of the building and come here."

Waverly reached across the small section of table that separated them and carefully clipped her chin with his fingers. He studied the last of the bruise.

"How did that happen?" he asked.

Astrid smiled and told him about what she did to Randolph Sequa. Since then he had become much more aggressive towards her. She reached up and gave the flesh a light push.

"Then about a week ago, I found myself in a situation I couldn't get out of…Lewis Sharpton all but ordered me to let Sequa have his way, guess he was tired of Randolph's constant whining. Things go out of hand and…." She pointed to her bruise once more.

"Otherwise you are alright then?" Waverly asked concern in his voice.

"I think so. As soon as I'm finished my report to you I have to go to medical and get checked-out."

Waverly stood up and stepped over to the young woman. He held out his arm for her to take.

"Medical first…" he said smiling.

They walked to the elevator. Waverly brought her up to speed on Napoleon.

"He can't see anything at all?"

"He can distinguish between light and dark, but only if it's a bright light."

They walked into the infirmary.

While they waited for Doctor Martz's results, Waverly pulled a chair up next to the young woman.

"I don't understand why you haven't sent UNCLE agents into their location," Astrid said, "I mean they have been in the same place for over four months now. The ammunition storage warehouse was, how do you say, small potatoes compared to the main safe house."

"I have my reasons," Waverly said calmly, "Can you tell me how many operatives are currently at the safe house?"

"With Sharpton, Sequa, Arlo Ditka and another man I didn't recognize, but of some higher authority I do know that, with the compliment of armed guards and others. All total, around twenty-eight or thirty. I have never seen them have such a large group in assemblage anywhere. Do you know what it means, Mr. Waverly?"

Waverly gave her arm a comforting pat.

"Nothing to worry about my dear."

Martz walked back in and looked at the woman. He glanced over at Waverly.

"Well other than a few internal bruises and one small thing that will require a few stitches, she appears to fine. No other problems from what the tests show."

"Wonderful," Waverly said, "Doctor when she's ready make sure she gets back to the conference room."

"Yes sir," Martz said giving his answer sharp followed by a mock salute.

"I like that," Waverly said, stone faced, "I think you should do that every time."

He gave Astrid a wink as he headed for the door. In the small mirrored window, Waverly saw the doctor roll his eyes. He didn't even attempt to hide his smile.

Sequa, Sharpton and Ditka walked down the hall of the THRUSH safe house. None of them spoke as they walked, hands folded behind them. Occasionally one would glance over at the other two, but their eyes always returned to the man walking in front of them.

The forth man was tall, around six-foot six and slight of build. He had a thick crop of sandy brown hair that was neatly cut and parted. His eyes were a frosty shade of blue-grey and even though they possessed no power, seemed to send chills up the spine of anyone who was foolish enough to look directly into them.

He motioned to one of the doors. Sharpton stepped quickly forward, opened it and reached inside flipping on the light. The tall man looked inside, rubbed his hand against the wall then gave it a rap with his knuckles. He nodded to Sharpton, who promptly extinguish the light and closed the door again.

This went on for nearly two hours as the men covered all three floors of the house. They returned to the large ornate den.

"You gentlemen have done quite well," Charles Nyman said sitting down at the desk.

The other three nodded.

"Thank you, sir," they said sporadically.

"And I must say what a wonderful job you did on Napoleon Solo," Nyman continued, "It would have been a pity if he had died." A crooked smile curled his lips. "Such a handsome young man…Now completely useless…except to us of course."

Sharpton smiled and nodded.

"What about his shadow…Kuryakin?"

"Under the tight control of his boss," Sharpton replied, "Waverly doesn't believe in revenge…"

"Yes I know…"

"….So Kuryakin has been put on other assignments. We have had a difficult time catching up with the elusive Russian though."

Sequa and Ditka were busying themselves fixing drinks for everyone. Randolph Sequa walked over to his boss and handed him a glass of Bourbon. Nyman took a drink and looked as if he were going choke. He gave the glass a hefty flip, throwing the liquid in Sequa face.

"What the hell is that suppose to be?" Nyman shouted, "Taste like cat pee."

"It's your brand sir, must be a bad bottle" Sequa said, apologetically, "I'm sorry sir; I'll find another bottle right away."

Sequa all but groveled as he backed out of the room in search of another bottle.

Nyman stood up and walked towards the liquor cabinet.

"Why did you do that, Charlie?" Sharpton asked.

"I detest that little pimple," Nyman said refilling his glass from the same bottle of Bourbon.

Sharpton saw Ditka smile then quickly hide it. He looked back at the boss.

"Well pimple or not, we couldn't have done such a great job getting rid of Solo without him," Sharpton said, "He is the best weapons man we have."

"Maybe…Where is the woman? Astrid."

"At her apartment. I have a guard watching her right now."

Nyman looked at him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Why is she not staying here under your supervision?"

"She doesn't get along with Sequa either…" Sharpton said smiling.

"I want her back here and kept here….Is that understood?" Nyman said snarling at the THRUSH.

"Yes…Sir," Sharpton replied sharply.

Lewis Sharpton picked up the phone and called for a guard to go and pick up Astrid.

Marnie and Illya sat on the window seat facing one another. Knees drawn, she watched the Russian smile as he slipped his legs around each side of her. Tucking his feet behind her, Illya began to slide her closer to him until they were quite close. He gently lifted each of her legs and wrapped them around his own body. As her body pressed against his lap, the Russian's intentions became obvious.

She smiled as he reached up and drew the stiff linen window shade down. She reached over pulling the heavy drapes closed, blocking them completely from anyone who might happen to look towards the window.

Amy and a U.N.C.L.E. bodyguard had gone out shopping for a few hours. She wanted to make something special for dinner and find her nephew a new bathrobe. Besides she knew the young people wanted to be alone for awhile. She remembered being young herself.

Jackie was in the bedroom with Napoleon. They lay together under the sweat soaked sheets trying to catch their collective breath before the next round of love making. She smiled as she watched the rise and fall of his chest. Her fingers reached up and playfully twisted his forelock.

Napoleon turned on his side. If she didn't know better, Jackie could have sworn he was staring right at her. She watched as he moved his head slowly, his eyes moving slowly down her figure as his hands gently caressed her tingling skin. She lifted her hand and ever so gently began to move it in front of his face. He made no indication that he saw it.

Jackie felt his hands pull her closer, his lips finding the tender part of her neck. She sighed and tilted her head back as they once again became one.

Illya felt the warmth of Marnie's body against his own. His hands held firmly to her hips as he moved her to and fro. She smiled as his lips found her warm skin and he began to bite and suck at the tender tissue.

She squealed lightly as he bit down on the curve of her neck. Marnie moaned blissfully as he began to kiss her harder and faster. Illya pulled her body down harder against his own.

They both cried out from sheer exhilaration. Trembling, Illya leaned back against the window frame and held Marnie tight, his face resting atop her dark hair. She felt the cold beads of perspiration on his bare chest and began to lovingly kiss the cool skin. She felt his body react, and sighed at the wonderful sensation she felt. He felt her cheeks move as she smiled.

"What are you smiling about?" he asked out of breath.

"I was thinking…Isn't it strange….Making love to your partner's cousin?" she asked softly.

Illya kissed the top of her head.

"It's better than making love to my partner….don't you agree?" he replied with an amused tone as he tilted his head back.

Marnie looked up at the handsome blond. His head was tilted slightly to the side and something not often seen on his continence, a smile of total peace and fulfillment. He was happy when she was near. They understood one another.

"You don't have to look so smug about it," Marnie said playfully, "My Russian Bear."

Illya opened one eye and looked at her. Her hair was flopping over across her brow, a look on her face of profound happiness. The fingers of one hand pushed her hair back as his other hand held tight against her back.

With one effortless motion, he laid her back on the soft cushions of the window seat. Illya looked down into her large brown eyes. They sparkled back at him. He felt her hands pull his hips closer.

"Maybe we should be more careful," he said low, "Amy would kill me if we had a...accident."

She reached up and carefully took hold of his face. He saw something sad in her expression.

"Don't worry my love," she said sadly, "Thanks to THRUSH….well...it will never happen…with anyone."

Illya looked at her. He moved his lips to hers and kissed her passionately. He laid his face against her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, "I didn't know."

"Just make love to me Illya," Marnie said taking a deep shaky breath.

Astrid looked over at Mr. Waverly.

"I really should be getting back to my apartment," she said, "If THRUSH was to call or have someone come by to check on me…."

"Of course," Waverly said, "The same way you came?"

"Disguising myself was the only way I could get out. I will get any new information to you as quickly as I can and the name of the new man at the house."

Waverly nodded and walked her back to the entrance. He stepped out into the fitting room and he and Del Floria watched her ride off on the rickety bicycle.

Bill looked back at the UNCLE Chief. Waverly had a strange expression on his face.

"….As far as you can throw her?" Del Floria asked inquisitively.

"Exactly," Waverly said, "She is hiding something. I can feel it."

Waverly walked back into the reception area. He stood for a moment to ponder the strange feeling he had. He walked back to his office.

Astrid arrived to find two THRUSH guards in her apartment. After a brief struggle they finally had her subdued and on her way to the safe house. One of the guards looked at her with a disgusting smile on his face. He slid a little closer to her in the car seat.

She craned her head back and looked at him. Then suddenly she spit in his eye.

The driver continued on, taking the long, slow way back to the THRUSH house, ignoring the screams and pleas coming from the back seat. He felt the temperature in the car rise and took a deep breath in anticipation.

Finding a dark alleyway a few blocks from the house, he stopped. Astrid was screaming and beating the guard as hard as she could. She saw the second man get into the back with them. Her eyes widened and she begged for mercy as she watched the second man move closer.

A moment later everything went black.

The UNCLE agent assigned to protect Amelia Penobscot tried in vain to control his urge to laugh. He had given up trying to hide his smile as the woman went on about Napoleon when he was a child. He would have so much to tell at work his head was starting to hurt.

"Please stop here, Agent Larkin.

The agent glanced thru the windshield and saw a small haberdashery shop ahead. He pointed to it as they slowly approached.

"Here Mame?"

"Yes I need to pick a few things up for Napoleon."

They pulled up to the curb and stopped. The agent got out and opened the car door for the woman.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" the agent asked knowing full well he had to anyway.

Amy got out of the car and started towards the tiny shop.

"I don't think it's necessary but you can if you wish."

The agent locked the car and turned towards her. He saw her take the one small step up to the door.

Without warning a man coming out ran right into her, knocking her against the small section of wall next to the shop window. He immediately tried to grab hold of her, letting his own parcel fall to the steps. He held tight to her arms and steadied her.

"I am so sorry…Are you alright?" the man asked.

The young agent ran over and took hold of her.

Amy caught her breath and tried to pull her senses back together. She reached up and touched one of the other man's hands. A chill ran thru her. Looking up she saw the face of the man who had nearly trampled her.

A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes.

It had been over thirty years.

"Oh my god," Amy said her voice trembling, "I never through I would ever see you again...At least I had hoped I never would."

"Amelia?…Oh my," he said stepping back and looking at the woman, "It really is you Amelia..You look...just as beautiful as the last time I saw you…."

Amy's face blushed but she felt a tear fall on her cheek.

"Is that why you left without a word…abandoned me? Or was it because I…." the words caught in her throat.

He looked at her. His fingers reached up and touched her hair just above her temples, then drifted slowly down her silken cheek.

He tried to hold her closer but she pushed him away. Amy gave her coat a brush as if his dirt might have gotten on it. The young UNCLE agent stepped up and she took his arm.

"Are you alright?" the agent asked her low giving her arm a pat.

She nodded.

The man looked at the young man with her. Dark hair, tall, nice clothes. About thirty or thirty-one he guessed. He looked at the younger's blue-grey eyes. Almost like….. His memory flashed an image of the last time they were together.

"Amelia….I'm sorry…Can you ever forgive me?….I was a fool…"

She and her escort pushed past him and started into the tiny shop.

"I won't argue with you there, Charlie Nyman."