Chapter IV
Darla Jenkins and Matt Christie were drinking coffee sitting in Napoleon Solo's and Illya Kuryakin's office at 8:30 the next morning. The CEA and his number two man sat at their respective desks drinking bad coffee and wearing expressions that spoke of a long, sleepless night. Napoleon put his cup down and addressed the people before him.
"People, finding the mole in our organization has turned out to be more difficult than I had hoped it would be. Since none of our original suspects panned out we are back where we began, which is nowhere. Unfortunately, the world isn't waiting for our internal problems to be resolved; we have to move forward. What I am about to tell you stays between the four of us and, of course, Mr. Waverly. Understood?"
Darla responded, "Of course, Napoleon." Darla leaned in closer and asked, "What's going on?"
"It's time for the communication codes to change. Darla, you know that normally we would just have your department send the codes worldwide electronically so that when the system automatically switches over we all have them but, with this mole still active, we can't take any chances so, we are having agents from the other headquarters meet Illya at a room in the Carlyle Hotel tomorrow night to pick them up. It will be the responsibility of each HQ to get the codes to their office locations before the switch occurs in three days. Illya will check in at 6 and Matt will bring the codes at 6:30; the agents will come any time after that. I need you to contact the HQs after this meeting to give them the contact name and the password."
"I'll take care of it as soon as I get back to my office, Napoleon," she replied.
Illya interjected, "Good. Matt reached out last night and this morning to his counterparts to inform them to send a Section III. Tell each office that each agent must ask for Vladimir Sherapova's room and use the phrase 'The tulips are blooming in Central Park' to gain access after they knock on my room door. The whole process should be completed by ten. Darla, do you have any questions?"
"No, Illya, I know what to do."
Illya looked at his partner, who nodded and said, "Alright then, let's do it. Meeting adjourned." Matt and Darla stood up and left the office. Napoleon picked up his coffee and took a sip; grimacing, he tossed it in the trash. "You think she fell for it?"
The Russian's eyebrows arched until they disappeared under his bangs. "We will soon find out."
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
Illya arrived at the Carlyle at six on the dot and presented his ID to check in as Vladimir Sherapova. Once he entered his room, he conducted his security check and poured himself a shot of vodka. Downing it quickly, he walked over to the door to the adjacent suite, turned the dead bolt and pulled it open. A few seconds after he used his knuckles to rap a code on the adjoining door, it was pulled open to reveal his partner on the other side.
Napoleon flashed a quick smile and said, "Tovarisch, right on time. There are four of us in here plus the four Section III agents masquerading as couriers who will be coming to your door. If THRUSH is stupid enough to show up, we'll be through this door in a second." He glanced at his watch. "OK, Matt should be here any minute. My door will be open on this side See you later." With that, he signaled for Illya to close his door.
As he did, his communicator beeped; it was Matt advising him he was in the elevator. "Excellent, Matt, see you in a moment," he replied.
After Matt came through the door, he opened his briefcase and pulled out four identical envelopes. Each one contained the "codes" for communications between the offices. "Illya," Matt asked, "do you really think this will work?"
Illya stretched out on the couch like a cat. "Oh, it will work. This is a carrot THRUSH will not be able to resist. If these were the real codes they were attempting to steal, their success would mean our interoffice communications would be compromised for at least forty – eight hours during which time THRUSH would run amok. My instincts are telling me that they will be observing and once all the couriers have come and gone, they will make their move."
MFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFUMFU
Darla received a call at home two days after she had passed that information along. "Miss Jenkins, all the agents have returned home and distributed the codes to their respective offices. It's time for you to deliver those codes to me. Tomorrow after work, you will take a stroll in Carl Schurz Park. There is a tree with a knot in it twenty – five feet inside the 87th Street entrance on the left. Place an envelope containing the codes in there and then, walk away."
"What if someone sees me?"
"Make sure someone doesn't," the voice snarled, "If I do not get those codes, I will stop making your payments and tell your…banker to take it out of your hide. I've heard he can be quite creative with a straight razor."
"Alright, alright! I'll do it!" she yelled.
"I knew you would see it my way," the voice purred back. "It is such a pleasure doing business with you, Darla. Goodbye." The phone clicked in Darla's ear.
She hung up the phone and cried. She felt like a trapped animal and it was all her own doing. For the hundredth time, she wished she could go back in time and change what she had done. I was a fool to get involved in gambling. It all started so innocently; I was winning so much at the beginning. When the cards turned against me, I kept thinking my luck would turn around. She got off her bed and looked out her bedroom window at her view of the alley behind her building. When it didn't and my money ran out, I asked for credit over and over again and promised to pay back. And, I still didn't win. The loan shark wanted his money and when I missed a payment, he threatened to have me hurt badly if I didn't bring money by the end of the week.
Her fists formed helplessly at her sides as she recalled what she did after receiving that threat. She had gone to a bar on the East Side to have a drink and think about her situation. That was the night she met Logan Crane. That's probably not even his real name, she thought bitterly but, it's the only one she knows.
He was so handsome and so very charming. He asked if he could sit next to me and when I said yes, he bought me a drink and we began chatting. I felt so comfortable with him, like I had known him for years. I found myself telling him about the predicament I was in and he said to let him think about it and meet him there the next day at the same time. Looking back, he must have used the time to run a background check on me.
The next day at work, Darla felt like a weight had been taken from her shoulders. She liked Logan and was looking forward to seeing him and for some reason; she thought he might be able to help her. She cancelled her date with Slater and only felt a small twinge of guilt. Slater was nice enough but, kind of boring.
That night, she arrived back at the bar to find Logan holding a booth for them both. I would have been thrilled to see him even if he couldn't help me but, when he said he would loan me money interest free until I was out of debt to my loan shark I said thank you but, I couldn't accept; I'm not that kind of girl. She remembered what he said then. "I'm sure you're not. This is not a gift, Darla; it is a loan. You will pay me back but, I hope you will allow me to continue to see you socially. Please believe me, though: One has nothing to do with the other. If you do not wish to date me, I will still lend you the money." I remember thinking: I could love this guy.
He made three of the sixteen payments she owed before he revealed his true self and "asked" her for information about UNCLE. That was when she found out he was THRUSH and none of it had been real; she had been just an opportunity that fell into his lap. I was so stupid, I should have reported the entire situation to Miss Rogers immediately but, I was too ashamed to admit that I had a gambling problem that had gotten so out of control I allowed myself to be conned by someone I thought liked me and wanted to help. Oh God, that sounds idiotic and pathetic to me! And now, it's too late, people are dead because of me. My only chance now is to run. I'll start over in some small town somewhere they've never heard of UNCLE and THRUSH. Once Logan passes those codes along, everyone will be so busy performing damage control; they won't notice I'm missing if I ask for the day after tomorrow off until I'm long gone.