The Blinker Stopper Affair.

The craggy cheeks hollowed as he sucked on his pipe. He sat further back in his chair and hovered over two files. It was gratifying to know that agents such as these guarded U.N.C.L.E. with their lives. All his agents were expendable, or so it said in the files, but were they? Men like Napoleon Solo were hard to find, they were cast from a mould long since broken. A frown caressed his brow, he had thought that Solo’s Russian partner was made of the same stuff, but lately…
    He let his hand drop and a small puff of ash fell from the pipe onto the table as his mind swung back to the time he had plucked Kuryakin from behind the Iron Curtain. He regarded this as one of the luckiest moments of U.N.C.L.E.’s history, that and the extraordinary partnership that had become the talk of all new agents. Solo and Kuryakin had become legends in their own lifetime. The frown deepened, if the recent reports were true then he had made a big mistake, a mistake that had taken years to unearth. How could this have slipped by unnoticed for so long? On paper it showed that without Kuryakin by his side Solo would have been dead years before and there was also the fact that Kuryakin was an excellent stand alone agent, so why the reports of incompetence? This time Waverly’s hand had been forced with the deaths of three agents in Kuryakin’s charge. The question arose, why had Solo covered up for him all these years and taken the blame for failed missions and mishaps?
    "How’s Illya, Sir?"
    "It was only a flesh wound, Mr Solo, we should be more concerned with the families of those who died," replied Waverly coldly.
    "And Crowley, is he conscious yet?" Solo said with his head held high trying to prevent bitter words from leaving his mouth.
    "No, unfortunately he died this morning. That makes three agents lost through Kuryakin’s incompetence."
    "They were ambushed, it can’t be blamed on Illya. He…"
    "I do know the story, Mr Solo, but Kuryakin was the officer in charge of those men and if it had not been for Mr Jackson more would have been lost."
    "Illya had gone on ahead, he couldn’t get back…"
    "I do not want to hear anymore at the moment, Mr Solo. Mr Jackson and yourself will finish the mission, without any more casualties if that’s at all possible."

---

   Solo and Jackson ran through the door amid a hail of bullets. Instantly they threw themselves to the tarmac as the ground exploded around them. ......"Where’s it coming from?" snorted Solo firing aimlessly into the darkness.
      "Inside the building and over there." Jackson pointed into the shadows at random flashes of red light and hugged closer to the ground as splinters of tarmac covered him.
    "Let’s hope they keep up their bad aim while I call for help…" The communicator barely rose to his lips then flew from his hand by another near miss as a flair lit up the sky and sort out the attackers. Solo smiled inwardly as two small trolleys and the cover of a wooded area were lit up by the eerie red glow, Illya, he whispered. Solo continued to fire at the advancing machine gun trolleys until the light from the flair faded, then he leapt up and ran towards the tree line tightly clutching a precious green file.
    "Come on, Jackson, this file has to get back!" Solo ducked as a string of bullets from one of the trolleys tore into the ground around him and a bullet from a completely different direction removed a large chunk from his jacket. On auto-pilot he swung around and the bullet meant for his back slammed harmlessly into the ground.
    "What’s Kuryakin up to?" snarled Jackson. "That’s twice he’s fired at you!" Solo remained mute as again he heard the distinctive sound of the Russian’s gun and instinctively jumped aside. A second flair lit the night followed closely by the explosion of a grenade. Under the cover of thick smoke Solo and Jackson ran towards the tree line throwing themselves onto the ground the instant they reached the trees. Even before he reached the ground Solo began firing towards a small figure and pushed Jackson’s gun to one side. "We’re giving covering fire, not trying to kill him!"
    "He tied to kill you!"
    "As usual he was covering my back." As he spoke another explosion lit up the sky and picked up the figure running towards them, then with one forward leap he landed heavily between them.
    "Nice of you to drop in," snorted Solo trying to place back the pocket that had been ripped by Kuryakin’s landing. A familiar frown was the only greeting given in return.
    "You ok, Illya?" asked Solo noticing Kuryakin rubbing his leg and the paleness of his face.
    "Get that file back, I’ll cover you from here. Go, I’m fine, aren’t I always?"

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