Chapter Two - Interdepartmental Affairs
"Comrade Kuryakin." The uniformed man stood as Illya approached. "I am glad you got my message.
"General Strasenhaur." Illya held out his hand. "You know, my hotel does have a telephone."
"And so many ears to listen to it."
And how many of them yours? Illya was tempted to ask. But that would be unprofessional, and as yet the General had done nothing to earn such discourtesy from one who was - at least in theory - an allied agent.
They shook briefly.
"Very well." Illya sat lightly on the front of the visitor's seat. Not that the chair was designed for comfortable lounging - any more then the rest of the Berlin office. "As you went to all this effort, I assume the matter is important."
Given that the German's were willing to impose on both UNCLE and the KGB? Illya assumed the matter was desperate.
"You have been assigned to recover the missing nuclear codes which the British occupiers have seemed so carelessly to misplace."
No great secret, since the Germans had requested his help. Illya noted that the General did not mention the Russian codes, which had also gone missing. If the American's had been equally careless - and Illya was inclined to assume they had - THRUSH would have the match to a particularly volatile power keg.
But, of course, to blame the 'friendly' Soviet nation would be politically incorrect.
"And I will do so." Illya's eyes narrowed. "If you think I would divert them…" Then Strasenhaur was a fool - and worse than that a clumsy fool. One did not mention treason to an agent that was not - however close the political ties - a countryman.
"No. No." Strasenhaur backed off quickly. "I wish you every success. The German Democratic Republic is threatened enough without bringing these foul birds into the mix."
True. For once, Illya was inclined to believe that Strasenhaur was speaking the truth.
"Then why?" Had the General bothered to call him in, was the unspoken conclusion.
The General shuffled though some papers on his desk. Distraction, Illya assumed. "Your partner, Mr. Solo, has also been assigned. Would it be possible to change that arrangement?"
Ah yes. Illya had suspected it would be something like that. "Not without more questions then would prove politically expedient. If you have something to hide, I suggest you hide it well before UNCLE becomes involved."
Not that Illya expected that. Strasenhaur most likely wanted Solo gone on general principles. A Russian agent might not share secrets with an East German, but at least the East German could take faith that Russian would be even less generous with western allies. An American, on the other hand? They were over trusting - and over vocal - at the best of times.
More papers joined the stack. "We simply would prefer to have some leverage over Mr. Solo."
"You and half the world." Illya kept his tone neutral. The words were warning enough.
"But..." Strasenhaur hesitated. "After so long an acquaintance?"
Illya sat even straighter. "If Agent Solo has any secrets from UNCLE, they are also secret from me. Because, I assure you...
"You would report any lapses immediately. Understood."
"I doubt that." Illya leaned forward, ice blue eyes locked on the other man's. "He is my partner. Any failure on his part would endanger me directly. In my own self interest I must ensure his commitment to UNCLE's mission."
The general gave Illya a careful look. "So then money..?"
Illya relaxed back onto the hard armed chair. "He gets it. He spends it. He doesn't care about it."
"Drugs?"
"We have better." Illya waved off the idea. "An addicted agent is simply maintained until cured. It might damage his efficiency rating, but beyond that...?"
"Politics?"
"In an American!?" One raised eyebrow conveyed Illya's general amusement at the improbability. "They barely manage to vote, much less..."
"Understood"
After a silence, Strasenhaur suggested "Women?"
"Constantly. Some nights I wonder if he knows a bed is to sleep in."
"So if I was to arrange…?"
"Don't be ridiculous." This time Illya didn't bother with courtesy. "Napoleon Solo would sleep with anything female - from the Queen Mother to the Commissar of Women - but if you photographed him he would want it autographed." Illya considered that for a moment. "And he would send copies to the to the other departments heads in an office memo."
There was a long silence, broken only be the brush of papers sliding back into their binder.
"Perhaps?" Strasenhaur rubbed his chin. "Men?"
"Men!"
The General nodded. "Men."
"Dangerous" was Illya's automatic and most honest response. "But?" He paused. Any action against an agent on Napoleon's level was self-evidently dangerous. A fact they both knew. So? "Perhaps. He is less a puritan than most Americans. More curious. If the option were presented at the right time? In the right way?" Illya ran his fingers over his forehead in a gesture of deep consideration. Then he looked up. "Who did you have in mind as the starling?"