"As soon as they take out Kuryakin…"
    Almost on autopilot he called through to Waverly. It had been the smell that had alerted him in the first place. The obnoxious stench of the substance sprayed on Kuryakin’s jacket. He noticed the same smell the instant he entered the building and his instinct for danger took hold. It took only minutes to work out the spray was on the badges and that the Norwegian agents all died without putting up a fight. The badges were worn over the heart.
    "Yes, Mr Solo, there is no cause for concern, I’m sure Kuryakin can look after himself."
    "His jacket was sprayed. He has the perfume all over…"
    "Yes, um, he already knows of the problem and has dealt with two intruders."
    A slight twist of the lip betrayed his feelings, yes, Illya would know, wouldn’t he. He sighed deeply as he watched the receptionist being let away, how was THRUSH convincing the U.N.C.L.E. girls to betray everything they loved? Still thinking he calmly sat on the desk and awaited the intruders, Waverly’s warning still echoing around his head, alive would be best, Mr Solo.

Alive wasn’t possible, the instant the four THRUSH assassins saw their lethal bullets heading for the pile of badges in the corner the inevitable cyanide escape route came into force without Solo ever moving from his perch on the desk.

Alexander Waverly puffed contentedly on his rose pipe, even if other matters were still outstanding the secret of THRUSH’s Blinker Stopper had been solved. It had been an ingenious plan to overthrow U.N.C.L.E. and nearly worked. The youngest and most innocent of the U.N.C.L.E. girls had been briefly tranquillised and while in this state photographed in the company of top THRUSH employees, blackmailing was then a simple matter. These girls had not learned to go to their U.N.C.L.E. when problems hit, instead they did everything they could to avoid the pictures being shown and that unfortunately involved working for THRUSH. Waverly made doubly sure that all members of U.N.C.L.E. knew that however bad the situation looked it was best to talk to him or one of his trusted agents.
    The danger still remained however as Solo had still failed to uncover the true formula for the perfume that attracted bullets or the base where it was being made, Waverly doubted if THRUSH would give up their ambition to overthrow New York Headquarters just because of one small setback.

The clear liquid was downed in one smooth swallow and Landa shuddered involuntarily. Many times he had tried to do that and only succeeded in coughing violently.
    "Sir?" The almost whispered word seemed to be unheard. Kuryakin shook his head slowly and raised his eyes to the dark painted ceiling then casually poured another drink.
    "Sir?" Landa said again more audibly.
    "I heard you the first time. I am off duty."
    "Yes, I know but you said you would get me back into Uncle and…"
    "And I will, but Uncle is still in danger…"
    "It’s closed, Sir!"
    The glass lowered from Kuryakin’s lips and his mouth remained open, a circular motion of his hand signalled Landa to continue.
    "Perhaps you really have been left out in the cold because this morning I saw two large removal trucks outside Del Floria’s. I think Uncle has moved…"
    "Open channel D…" Kuryakin ran through every communications channel as fast as he could all with the same result, a dull static hum. Every channel was closed.
    "Come on!"

The short drive was made in complete silence, Landa dare not even move let alone speak, one look into Kuryakin’s eyes was warning enough. Still in silence they stood across the road from the Tailors, the trucks had long gone but the sign that had been ripped down and replaced with another.

‘Closed until further notice.’
    "Thrush!" whispered Kuryakin through his teeth.
    "That’s impossible, Sir. How could they get passed all our security?"
    "Impossible yesterday, but today they have done it. Now so we have to get in!"
    "Sir, I hate to say this but two men against, how many?"
    "Solo would like those odds," he said giving a small yet sad smile. Getting in wasn’t the problem, staying in was! Somehow THRUSH had gained access even without their Blinker Stopper, something worse perhaps? He shuddered, the prospect of that had been bad enough, one Thrush man, one machine gun and no need to aim the homing chemical would have done that, steered the bullets straight into the hearts of U.N.C.L.E.. Resistance would have been pitiful as they returned fire and watched the bullets turn and home in on their own men. One Thrush man remaining untouched. He turned and squinted at Landa, he was all he had. One young untrained man.
    "Go to my car, Landa. In the trunk is rope, I needs this so get it, run!"
    Although Landa followed the order without question a doubt gripped his heart so tightly that he ached. If they climbed to the windows what then, break them? Not only were they armour-plated but alarmed as well, they were going to die.
    "The rope, Sir!" he sighed deeply as he watched the Russian take the rope, not one sign of worry marked the pale face, instead a smile flitted there momentarily and his eyes shone with excitement.
    "Sir?"
    A small tut drifted towards him like a smack. "Stop with the Sir, it’s Illya."
    "S… Illya, I was wondering, what’s it like to be shot?"
    "Ha! Don’t even think it, the ones you no feel that you worry about."
    A frown creased the young man’s face and Kuryakin smiled. "Not understand? Good, stay that way." Even as he spoke he continued to look up at the building then sighed loudly.
    "Landa, I presume you hold no security levels?"
    "What sec…"
    "I thought not, I promote you up a level."
    "Sir, you can’t do that, that order has to come from the top."
    "Exactly," he said looking remarkably hurt as he thrust a gold card under Landa’s nose. "Section 2, level one security, authorised and licensed and if you to be my new partner you will stop with the sir! Now to work."

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