At 8 AM sharp Napoleon called the Ridenours. "Okay, Dr. Ridenour. Just remember to stay calm and follow THRUSH's instructions. We will move in right after the exchange. Once we have the suspects in custody, we'll return the money and get you back home as quickly as possible. Do you have any questions?… Good. Don't look for us. If they see you looking around they might get suspicious and scared off. We don't want to lose the chance of getting Lucinda back safely or risk you or your wife getting hurt. Pardon?… No! Do not deviate from the plan… Okay. Good luck." Napoleon hung up the phone. He worried that Ridenour would panic and screw up the works.

"Something doesn't seem to ring true regarding Dr. Ridenour," Illya couldn't quite put his finger on what didn't seem right. "Do you think he'll try and deviate from the plan, Napoleon?" Illya passed his friend's weapon and shoulder holster over to him and adjusted his own before donning his sports coat.

"I don't know. He's very nervous, I know he's worried about his daughter. I don't think he'll do anything stupid to jeopardize getting Lucinda back safely."

He grinned at Illya. "I thought you got rid of that maroon sports coat after you went skidding through the mud the last time you wore it!"

"Just because you get your suits replaced once a week doesn't mean that I have to do so. This jacket is quite serviceable, thank you very much. You worry about your wardrobe and I will worry about mine."

Napoleon laughed as they left the room and made their way to their observation points near the plaza. Illya placed himself near a large tree near one side of the Palace of the Governors and Napoleon took up a spot on the other side. From their vantage points they would be able to observe both the Ridenours and anyone who approached them.

Illya checked his watch. 9:45. There was a chill to the morning air as a breeze came down from the snow covered peaks of the Sangre de Cristo mountains. It wasn't cold enough for him to be able to see his breath but he was thankful he wore his black turtleneck under his sports coat.

He was intrigued by the mixture of architecture the buildings of the capital city of New Mexico had. Many were built in a pueblo style adobe with rounded corners and earth tone stucco. The Palace of the Governors was built in the territorial and pueblo style with stuccoed walls, and squared corners. The beams of the building stretched out beyond the exterior walls. A covered porch ran along the front of the building with fifteen wood pillars supporting the roof.

He watched with fascination as family groups of Native Americans arrived and set up displays of jewelry and pottery along the wall of the covered porch. Along each of the pillars hung ristras of red chili peppers creating a colorful contrast against the cream colored and brown adobe. Tourists walked among the exhibits bartering with the Indians to get the best price for their wares.

Illya checked his watch again…10:20. He looked around but didn't see anything. He called Napoleon on his communicator. "See anything?"

"Not yet, but we have ten minutes left."

Just as they were about to break communication, Napoleon caught a glimpse of the Ridenours walking down the street towards the building. "Heads up, Illya. Here they come."

Both men watched as the couple slowly walked up the street towards the palace. Dr. Ridenour glanced about nervously as he gripped a briefcase tightly in one hand and had a hold of his wife's elbow in the other. They stopped at the assigned meeting spot next to the third wooden pillar from the left. Three men, wearing jeans, long-sleeved western style shirts with snap closures, and baseball caps approached the couple from two different directions.

They stopped and from the looks of it started arguing with Dr. Ridenour and one of them grabbed the briefcase at the same time. Mrs. Ridenour screamed, "Where's our daughter? You promised you would bring her! Where's Lucinda."

The five of them began to move quickly away from the building pushing the distraught couple along as they were beginning to get stares from onlookers. Two more men moved in. One held a large movie camera filming the group while the other spoke loudly to the gathering crowd. "Cut! That's a print." He turned towards the crowd. "It's alright folks. It's your lucky day as you have just seen one of the scenes from our newest movie production, "A Kidnapping in Santa Fe". It is due to come out next December. Keep watching your newspapers for the release date."

A block away there was no crowd and the Ridenours were roughly escorted down the sidewalk. Dr. Ridenour walked meekly, but Mrs. Ridenour continued to resist wanting to know where her daughter was. "Shut up, lady. Keep your trap shut if you ever want to see your rugrat again," the man who pretended to be the director snarled, then put a piece of duct tape over the woman's mouth.

Solo and Kuryakin moved in with their weapons drawn. "Hold it right there. Drop your weapons." Solo thrust his Walther into the side of the "director." Kuryakin came in from behind the group and did the same to the THRUSH agent who had a grip on Mrs. Ridenour. He reached over the captor's shoulder snatching his pistol out of the man's hand.

"I believe my partner said to drop your weapons!" He pointed his gun at the others. "Do it, now!"

The THRUSH men did as they were told. Illya concentrated on guarding the group while Napoleon bent down to pick up the discarded weapons. The UNCLE agents failed to notice several men approaching them from different angles. Illya felt the barrel of a Lugar touch the base of his skull while another grabbed Napoleon by the hair and yanked him up. A voice hissed into his ear. "Drop the guns, Solo!"