Dropping to her knees, Moira Laidlaw desperately tried to suck air into her tortured lungs. Around her, others were passing the finishing line, and some were in the same state of exhaustion as she was. Moira had known that Survival School was hardly going to be a picnic, but she hadn't expected it to be quite so hard going. It gave her a much greater appreciation of the agents she knew, especially the women who had opened this world up for her.
Little regard was given gender, and trainees of both sexes were expected to complete the gruelling assault course challenge before they could graduate. The only nod to gender difference was the time allowed for completion. Even then, the women were only given ten minutes extra.
Moira had no idea whether she had passed or not. Her main priority at that moment was attempting to gain control of her legs. They felt like burning jello, and she was unsure if they'd ever be able to support her again. For a while she was quite content to kneel on the hard ground and get her breathing under control.
As she gulped in the air, her stomach began to churn and she vomited. However, because Moira had been too nervous to eat breakfast, all she produced was a yellow bile. She grimaced at the mess, feeling suddenly down-hearted. There was no way they would let her be an agent if she couldn't endure an assault course.
"Here, drink this. It will help to revive you."
Moira lifted her head and found herself looking at a smiling Illya Kuryakin, who was holding out a cup of water. Behind him, with a matching smile, was his partner, Napoleon Solo. She hadn't realised they were even on the island, and for that she was grateful. Had she known, her nerves would have been far, far worse. Accepting the cup, Moira guzzled the water.
"Slowly," Illya warned her. "Just sip it."
"Do you want to know how you did?" asked Napoleon, as he and Illya helped Moira up onto shaky legs.
"I know I've failed," she replied, indicating the bile.
"Are you kidding?" Napoleon scoffed. "I passed out when I completed the course, and I still passed."
"You mean, I've graduated?" Moira asked, with a mix of joy and incredulity.
"Indeed you have," Illya told her. "And for the record, I too was extremely sick after finishing."
As they made a wobbly way back to the school buildings, Napoleon informed her of the reason for their presence on the island. Waverly had been certain that, with her quick thinking and ability to utilise whatever was around her, she would easily fit with Section 2. Solo and Kuryakin had been receiving reports on her training and were granted permission to give her the good news in person; assuming she passed.
Moira grinned. Several weeks ago she had merely gone out to buy a dress. The chance sighting of Mr Kuryakin being abducted had led her down a wholly unexpected path. Now, here she was, U.N.C.L.E. New York's newest Section 2 agent.