For what
seemed an eternity the office remained silent apart from the strike of a match
and a long drawn out sigh as Waverly inhaled the smoke from his pipe. Solo
remained seated on the edge of the table with his hand subconsciously pulling at
the corner of his mouth.
"That wasn�t Cyanide, was it,
Sir?" whispered one of the newer Section Two agents. Waverly tapped the
contents of his pipe into a small bowl and refilled it with fresh tobacco then
replaced the pipe unlit to his lips. "Yes," he finally replied walking
to the window without looking at the gathered agents.
"No," Solo whispered without changing his
position and his thoughts were echoed by every agent. Finally the inevitable had
happened, one of U.N.C.L.E.�s best had succumbed to Thrush�s torture and the
dreaded L-Pill had come into play. The partnership of Kuryakin and Solo was at
an end.
"Better call Mark back before his
cover is blown and we lose another agent," said Solo suddenly standing. To
the gathered agents he looked taller than usual and as they would have expected
the Russian to react in this situation, unmoved by the death of his partner.
"I�m sure there must be plenty
of work for you all to do," said Waverly removing a small paper flag from
the map. Instead of placing it in his draw he placed it gently in Solo�s hand.
"I suggest Justin Crawshaw as your partner�"
"No, Sir�"
"Again, Mr Solo? You wish
to go against my direct orders?"
"No, Sir." Solo was in no
mood to start an argument with Waverly but to partner him with Crawshaw was the
final straw. "At the moment I would rather work alone�"
"Impossible! I do know of Crawshaw�s
dislike of um, Kuryakin, but he is the next in line and I�m sure, in time,
things will work out."
"Yes, Sir, I�m sure they
will." Without looking back Solo walked the corridor that suddenly seemed
endless and empty. Only when he entered the elevator did he let his feelings out
and he slammed a fist at the wall causing the pin of the little flag to stab
into his skin. Screaming might have removed some of the horror he felt at that
moment but his credibility as the imperturbable agent would have gone. He felt
incredible anger at Mark Slate for having administered the L-Pill, anger at
Waverly for partnering him with the brash, egotistical Crawshaw and grief at
Kuryakin�s death. No, that too was anger, an incredible fury at the way he had
died. He opened his hand slowly and carefully placed the tiny flag inside his
wallet. Then he left the elevator and smiling at the nearest pretty girl walked
over to the waiting Crawshaw.
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