The four people piled out of the cab as if it was their only salvation. The doorman from the Macy's store watched them carefully, as if they might be invading hooligans.

"My word, the last time I was on a ride like that it was at the Dodge 'em Cars at Whitley Bay and my accelerator stuck." Mrs. Slocombe clutched her purse closely and shot fearful looks around. "Do you see any muggers?"

"In broad daylight?" Miss Brahms asked as she narrowly avoid a mess left in the gutter. "That's disgusting."

"That's New York." Mrs. Slocombe put her handkerchief over her mouth. "What traffic!"

Captain Peacock handed the driver some bills. He counted them and handed half of them back. "Here you go, Guv. Best be careful. Folks here will take advantage of a visitor like you."

"Thank you." Captain Peacock took them back. "The currency is a bit of a mystery.

"We countrymen have to stick together."

The taxi driver took off as Mr. Humphries glanced down at the bills in Captain Peacock's hand. "He is one of us. He gave himself a nice tip."

"After that ride, he should be paying us," Miss Brahms tipped her head back to look at the building. "It's ever so high. Do you reckon it's because of the balloons?"

"Balloons?" Mr. Humphries was puzzled.

"You know, the big ones they parade around in November." She gestured wildly and Captain Peacock nodded.

"I believe those are kept off sight in a warehouse, Miss Brahms. This is just their store."

"I hope their elevator are a sight better than ours."

Mrs. Slocombe approached the doorman and held out a sheet of paper. "I believe we are expected."

The doorman took the sheet, scanned it and nodded. "Right, you're the bunch from Grace Brothers. If you'd like to go inside, I will let them know you have arrived."

"I still can't believe we're here." Mr. Humphries adjusted his suit jacket. "Do you know that there were little bottles of everything in my hotel bathroom? Even one with a shower cap!"

"And the bed was ever so comfortable." Miss Brahms then gasped as they stepped inside.

"We must not lose sight of why we are here." Captain Peacock attempted to not be equally affected. "I wonder where the floor walker is."

"My word…" Even Mr. Humphries was amazed and that wasn't usual for him. "I can't even…"

"Imagine working in a beautiful place like this. It's like Harrods on overload."

"Nonsense, Harrods is cultured and sophisticated. This is-"

"America?" Mr. Humphries finished.

A smartly dressed young woman approached. "Hello, are you the group from England? From Grass Brothers?" She looked puzzled. "There's a store for that there?"

"I believe you mean Grace Brothers and, yes, we are."

"Sorry, new glasses. If you will come with me."

"You have a lovely store."

"It's the first time I've been down here. The management doesn't let us out much." The staff exchanged puzzled expressions and they followed her to a bank of elevators. "Right around here, please. Those are for customer use only."

Just as they were about to enter one elevator, the doors slid open, and two men exited.

"Excuse us…" She tried to push past them hurriedly, while studying the floor.

"Wait, I know you," Mrs. Slocombe exclaimed happily. "You're that fella from who's it!" The man paused and studied her. "I had a different do back then."

"Mrs. Slocombe! What are you doing in New York?" Napoleon Solo was dumbfounded. "I know that they said you'd meet just about everyone in Macy's if you waited long enough." He nudged the man beside him. "You remember the good folks from Grace Brothers, don't you, Illya?"

"Yes, the man they thought was me." Illya eyed Mr. Humphries critically. "I am still reeling from the mistake. What are you all doing here?"

"Mr. Humphries won a contest, we all did."

"What contest?"

Mr. Humphries' expression clouded over. "Now that you mention it, I'm not really sure. I enter a lot of them." He leaned closer to Napoleon and Illya. "Between you and me, I was hoping for a washer and dryer."

"Wasn't it that cypher one? You remember, crack this code and win a big prize?" Miss Brahms smiled prettily. "And we did."

"We received plane tickets for New York and an invitation to speak in the board room at Macy's." Captain Peacock pulled himself up to his full height. "They wish to learn sales techniques from us."

"Yes, that's it. Please, they are waiting for us in the board room." The young woman tried again, her eyes beseeching Napoleon.

"But this is the freight elevator," Illya said. "It only goes to the basement, which is where we've just come from."

"What?" She backed away a few steps. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"She's got new glasses, you see," Miss Brahms said.

"Oh, has she, now?" Napoleon deftly removed them from the woman's face and smiled. "Hello, Monique. How's tricks?" He took her elbow firmly. "I bet Mr. Waverly has a question or two for you."

"I don't understand." Mrs. Slocombe looked from one UNCLE agent to the other. "What's going on?"

"I think that's exactly what we are going to find out." Napoleon glanced around to see if they'd attracted any attention. "Illya, I think it's time we relocate to more suitable surroundings. I feel like a sitting duck here."

"You take her, I'll take our Grace Brothers friends."

"Wait, I must protest!" Captain Peacock pulled up his 6'4" frame and squared his shoulders. "We were invited here as guests."

"For winning a contest he doesn't remember winning," Illya said, indicating Mr. Humphries. "Only to be met by a THRUSH operative and about to be whisked to the basement for heaven knows what." Illya shrugged his shoulders. "If you want to be tortured, that's up to you, but I think the ladies would prefer something less physical. It's so hard to get blood out of silk."

Mrs. Slocombe's eyes opened at that. "We are going with Mr. Kuryakin and I am unanimous in this."

"Hear, hear," Miss Brahms clung to her, as did Mr. Humphries.

"Well, since you put it that way… lead on." He looked around. "Where did Mr. Solo and that young lady get off to?"

"It's a question I frequently ask." Illya glanced around and gestured, even as he was taking out his communicator. "Follow me."

He escorted his little group through the store and out a side entrance. There was a van parked and he pointed to it, even as the doors were opening and other people were climbing out.

"Get in, please."

"But where are we going?"

"Until we figure out THRUSH's angle in this, it's best if we take you to headquarters. There are rooms there where you can relax until we can make heads or tails out of what's happening."

"But what about..?" Mr. Humphries was about to protest when he saw a pistol being drawn. "Good idea."

"Stay here, I'm going to make sure the coast is clear." He hesitated and then handed Mr. Humphries his communicator. "If anything happens, twist off the top and ask for help. Someone will be right here." He pulled out his weapon and Mr. Humphries paled when he offered it to him. "You might need to defend yourself."

"If you give me that, I'll be the one everyone will need to protection from."

"Weak as water!" Mrs. Slocombe grabbed the pistol and dropped it into her purse. "Just let them try something."

Illya smiled at her. "Mrs. Slocombe, you are a woman after my own heart."

They watched Illya slipped away and tried to look casual.

"That's all right for him, but I need…" Mr. Humphries pointed to the sign for the men's room. "That. I won't be but a tic."

"He said to stay here, Mr. Humphries," Mrs. Slocombe protested, but Mr. Humphries held up his hand.

"One mustn't argue with Nature. Besides, I have his special pen." He walked quickly to the bathroom and slipped inside. It was certainly much fancier than the staff bog back at Grace Brothers and he took a moment to appreciate the surroundings, lingering a bit longer than he anticipated. His coworkers would tell Mr. Kuryakin where he went, so he wasn't worried until he exited the bathroom and found himself quite alone. "What on Earth?"

Just then, Napoleon appeared. "Okay, it would seem that THRUSH has some plans in… where is everyone?" He searched the immediate area with fast glances.

"Not a clue. I just stepped into the facilities and when I came out, everyone was gone. I was going to call for help, but you showed up."

"How were you going to call for help?"

"Mr. Kuryakin gave me his pen." He held it up for Napoleon to see.

"I don't beli-"

"He gave Mrs. Slocombe his gun thing. You really are wild west here, aren't you?"

"Not exactly, but I think there's trouble afoot. Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Home."

"One of them fellas what grabbed us was telling me a Maharaji was staying here last week," Miss Brahms said.

"That's all well and fine, but we are still prisoners." Captain Peacock paced the small room. "A cell, no matter how attractive is still a cell."

Mrs. Slocombe nursed her third G&T and smiled. "But this one comes with berveages."

"Beverages."

"That, too." She giggled and wiggled her toes. "I'm quite comfortable."

Illya Kuryakin shook his head, but was careful to keep up the meek and mild front. When they were grabbed, it was obvious they thought he was part of the Grace Brothers group. He'd done nothing to dissuade their captors of that. It wouldn't be much longer before they realized their mistake.

"Mr. K-" Captain Peacock started Illya held a finger to his lips and shook his head hard. Captain Peacock coughed. "K –k-, I'm sorry Mr. Humphries. Are you all right?"

"What sort of madness is this?" Illya was careful to pitch his voice to mimic Mr. Humphries as best he could. "Taking innocent people off the streets and us with disposable income to spend."

Mrs. Slocombe pointed at him and started to laugh. "What's he on about?"

"Miss Brahms, I think Mrs. Slocombe needs to lie down"

"I don't want to lie down. How about a song?"

"I don't…" Captain Peacock trailed off as Illya nodded enthusiastically. "All right, then what should we sing?"

"How about Daddy Wouldn't Buy Me a Bow Wow?" Miss Brahms suggested.

"Oh, I don't know if I could, what with Tiddles and all." She thought for a moment. "How about Three Drunken Huntsmen?"

The door opened just then and a man entered. He was very tall and had an aristocratic air about him. He studied the small group for a moment and then bowed to them. "Permit me to introduce myself, my name is Victor Marton."

"Ooo, you're ever so handsome," Mrs. Slocombe sidled up to him and flirted.

"Yes, well, thank you." He frowned at Illya, who had taken to curling up in a fetal position on one of the rooms four cots. "What's wrong with him?"

"He suffers from an unfortunate condition called 'faint of heart' among other things." Captain Peacock made a face at him. "We older folks are made of sterner stuff."

"Hear, hear. You are…?"

"Captain Peacock and these ladies are my associates, Mrs. Slocombe and Miss Brahms."

"And the young man cringing on the bed?"

"That's Mr.…" Miss Brahms started, but Captain Peacock interrupted her. "Humphries. He is senior assistant on the men's counter."

Mrs. Slocombe started giggling then. "What are you on about?"

"And you've had quite enough to drink, Mrs. Slocombe." Captain Peacock helped her to a cot and plopped her down.

"Just a minute!" She stood back up and he looked sternly at her.

"Mrs. Slocombe, you will remember yourself!"

"I feel as if I've lost control of the group. You were the ones who deciphered that puzzle for us."

"Yeah, we did and all. It was dead quiet in the store that morning," Miss Brahms said brightly. "Mr. Humphries found it on the bus and we all took a turn with it."

"I see." Marton walked over to the huddled figure. "I think you and I should have a talk."

"No, thank you," Illya mumbled, keeping his face hidden.

"It's all right, Mr. Kuryakin. I know it's you."

At that, Illya uncoiled himself and stood up. "Hello, Victor. How's tricks?"

"That's what we are going to find out." Marton laughed and snapped his fingers. Two men in jumpsuits appeared, rifle slung over their shoulders. "Guards, escort Mr. Kuryakin to my office. It's time we have a little chat."

"You can't take him!" Captain Peacock said.

Victor turned to him. Smiling maliciously. "Would you like to go in his place?" Without waiting for an answer, he turned and they were gone.

"Weak as water," Mrs. Slocombe snapped, her previous good nature shaken from her. "

"What would you propose, I do, Mrs. Slocombe? They had weapons."

"Captain Peacock?" Miss Brahms asked.

"Not now, Miss Brahms. Mrs. Slocombe, I won't have you undermining my authority."

"You have precious little of it."

"Captain Peacock?" Miss Brahms tried again.

"Not now! I'll have you know I confronted men twice that size and with many more weapons."

"Captain Peacock!" This time, she was quite firm.

"What is it, Miss Brahms."

"They left the door open." She pointed. "Look, it didn't latch properly."

"Why didn't you say something earlier?"

She glared at him. "If you would have gotten off your high horse, I would have."

"Now what do we do, Captain Peacock?" Mrs. Slocombe's expression was haughty, half expecting the man to back down.

"Now, we rescue Mr. Kuryakin. Follow me."

Mrs. Slocombe walked over to the bar and hefted for one bottle, discarded it and picked up another one.

"Haven't you had enough for one day?" Miss Brahms murmured, lest Captain Peacock hear her."

Mrs. Slocombe picked up a bottle with a thick wall. She smiled and slipped it into her handbag. "Insurance, my dear, one way or the other."

Mr. Humphries looked from one man to the other. "It doesn't no good to glare at me. I don't know where they got to. I told you before, I went to the facilities and when I came out, they were gone."

"And you heard nothing, Mr… uh… Humphries?" Mr. Waverly took a long pull on his pipe.

"There was music playing. We don't have music in ours. They were playing, "I'll Do it My Way," which seemed oddly appropriate."

Napoleon leaned over the blond man and smiled. "Can't you remember anything?"

"You're much more pleasant when you smile and, no, I can't."

Napoleon sat and regarded his employer. "It's safe to assume that THRUSH has them, sir."

"Mr. Humphries, you mentioned you won a contest?"

"We did."

"What was it all about?"

"That was the strange bit. Usually they are just crosswords and jumbles, but this was a proper cryptogram. Captain Peacock said it reminded him of some of the messages he intercepted during the war. We were all a bit bored, so we decided to have some fun with it."

"What happened after you solved it?"

"We sent it to the address listed in the paper and that was that. We certainly didn't expect to win anything."

"And yet here you are." Napoleon tapped his finger in thought. "I don't suppose you remember what the message said."

"Not really, it was mostly mumbo jumbo about test coordinates. That's why we were so surprised we'd won. None of it made any sense, but we did go one better. We took a photo for the staff newspaper." He pulled the snapshot out of an inner jacket pocket. "There we all are. It came as quite the surprise to Mr. Grace."

Napoleon took the photo and squinted. "I can't quite make out… Mr. Humphries, may I borrow this for a little while?" He turned back to Waverly. "Sir, if we can enlarge this, we might have a chance to figuring out what THRUSH is up to."

"Sooner rather than later, Mr. Solo." He waved his hand at Mr. Humphries. "Perhaps our friend would be more comfortable in the canteen."

"Yes, sir." Napoleon stood and gestured to the door. "Come along, Mr. Humphries. There's magic to do."

Captain Peacock peeked around the corner. "Okay, the coast is clear."

"But where are we?"

"No idea."

Mrs. Slocombe pointed to a sign that read To the Roof. "Perhaps we should go up and see if we can get our bearings."

"But we're not in London. I wouldn't know Brooklyn Heights from Manhattan." Miss Brahms was doing her best to be brave. "I want to go home."

"Fair point."

Suddenly a door opened and Captain Peacock flattened himself against the wall, pulling back a curious Mrs. Slocombe at the last moment.

"Think he'll talk?" One man asked the other as they turned to leave.

"They all talk eventually. Don't always make a lot of sense, but they talk. Let's go see what, Mr. Marton wants to do."

"They must be talking about poor Mr. Kuryakin." Mrs. Slocombe pouted, concern making her bottom lip tremble. "We have to save him."

"All in good time." He waited until the men had disappeared and nodded. "It's time."

They hurried to the door and slipped inside. None of them were really sure what to expect, but it was a wall of electronic devices, reels spinning from one to another.

"This is like out of one of them radio rooms," Miss Brahms said. "You know how to work on of these?"

"No idea, but I can give it a try." Captain Peacock cracked his fingers.

Napoleon was poring over the photo that Mr. Humphries had taken. "I see what you mean about being confusing. I don't think any of this was supposed to see the light of day."

"Meaning?"

"These are top secret coordinates for a new military installation."

"Where?"

"If I told you, then it wouldn't be top secret. However, I could see why THRUSH was worried." He glanced up at the clock. "I wish we would hear something."

"At this point, we'd need a miracle."

As if in answer to his request, there was a tap to the door and a communication tech entered. "Mr. Solo, we just got the strangest message while scanning the usual channels."

"Really?"

"Help! We're being held captive and Mr. Marton has Illya. God save the Queen."

Napoleon set a hand on Mr. Humphries's arm. "I think we don't need a miracle, Mr. Humphries, we have your coworkers."

"Do you think they heard us?" Mrs. Slocombe clutched her purse close to her chest. "Do you think they're coming to save us?"

"No, they aren't, but we heard you just fine." Victor Marton entered and pushed Illya inside. He looked a bit worse for the wear, but was still standing.

"Leave them out of this, Victor they don't know anything."

"That's where you are wrong, Mr. Kuryakin. I think they know quite a bit." He leveled a weapon at Illya's head. "And you will tell me, or I will shoot Mr. Kuryakin."

"But we don't."

"What did the message you decoded say and how did you get it?"

"It was printed in the Times and it was just a bunch of random numbers, that's what made it so tricky. They didn't mean anything."

"But you said they seems like bombing coordinates," Miss Brahms said. "Remember?"

"I said nothing of the kind."

"Or racing scores…"

"Perhaps, I have been questioning the wrong person, after all." He released Illya and crooked his finger at Captain Peacock. "Let's have a chat, Captain."

The man grew pale. "Hum, um, m-m-m-e?"

"There's just two things you are forgetting." Mrs. Slocombe's smile was kind.

"And what's that?"

"First, we come as a package deal, all for one."

"And the second?"

He never heard because Mrs. Slocombe laid him out flat with her purse. Even Illya could do nothing more that stare for the moment.

"Mrs. Slocombe… I… I think I love you," he finally managed to choke out.

"I know, lamb, I know." She glared at Peacock. "Now, let's get out of here. I could right do with a bit of tea."

Illya snatched up Marton's gun and nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Napoleon lifted the communicator to his mouth. "Is everything in position?"

"We are and ready to go when you give the signal."

"What do we do now?" Mr. Humphries had smeared his face with the same black paint as the rest of the UNCLE agent, but his seemed more artfully place.

"With any luck, we'll be able to get in and out without being detected."

"Couldn't we just knock and ask politely to give them back?"

"No, that's not how THRUSH does things. Nor are they likely to rush out into our arms."

Suddenly, the door opened and a small group of men ran out as if the devil was on their heels. The nearby UNCLE agents were so startled that for a long moment, they just stared at each other.

A moment later, Victor Marton walked out, hands raised. Captain Peacock kept the pistol steadily aimed at the small of his back. Following behind was Mrs. Slocombe, her normally neat hair in a wild start of disarray. Miss Brahms and Illya completed the group.

"Illya!" Napoleon broke cover and ran up to his partner. "Hello, Victor. Fancy meeting you here."

"Whatever you do, don't get on the wrong side of that one." He winced and cupped his head.

"You should recruit her for UNCLE," Illya said. "Fist of iron, that one."

Mrs. Slocombe opened her purse and pulled out the bottle of gin. "And a purse to go with it." She tapped Illya on the forearm. "Do you think we could go now? I'm dying to spend a penny?"

Illya laughed and nodded. "And then how about high tea?

She giggled and took his arm. "I'd rather a romantic night of dining and dancing."

"I think UNCLE can arrange something," Napoleon stepped in and offered his arm to Miss Brahms. "You have captured a very important THRUSH official and his lair, plus revealed their plan to target an important military site. We owe you that and a lot more."

Mr. Humphries sighed and looked over at Captain Peacock. "Shall we?'

He hesitated and smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."