---

Disclaimer:
This page is an unofficial site that exists only for the fun of it. All characters and situations from the television show "The Man from U.N.C.L.E." are property of Norman Felton and Warner Bros. Nothing ill is intended by this use of any television characters in these amateur efforts. Any fiction linked to these pages is the intellectual property of the amateur author who created it and is not presented here for profit.

Classification: T for Teen (or used to be PG-13 or so)

Author's Notes: Just because she's too good to be true, does that
make her a problem?

Pairing: Unknown

---

"You wanted to see us, sir?" Napoleon addressed his superior as they
filed into Alexander Waverly's office.

The craggy eyebrows rose at the question, although he didn't stop
puffing at the pipe he was trying to light. He observed the trio of
agents taking seats around the circular table used for briefings and
debriefings, noting that Miss Yuconovich took a seat discreetly one
away from Mr. Kuryakin, while the older agents sat side by side. He
nodded his greeting.

"It has come to my attention that Miss Yuconovich brought a sample to
the lab which duplicates one found on the remains of an agent in
California." If he wanted their full attention, he certainly had it.
"You've heard of Tannenbaum, I believe." Napoleon's face answered him,
while Illya looked more than usually inscrutable. "Mr. Tannenbaum was
on leave at the time of his demise. We have reason to believe that his
connection to the UNCLE is what caused his killer to choose him for an
extremely unpleasant method of extermination."

A photo appeared on the screen behind Mr. Waverly's head. Apart from
the ragged remains of clothing, there was not enough of Mr. Tannenbaum
left to identify as human. Oddly, the lack of blood seemed to
intensify the reaction to the photo rather than the opposite. Even
Illya's stoic reserve seemed rocked.

"Do we know ... how?" Napoleon asked the obvious question.

"Mr. Tannenbaum seems to have been drowned and then mangled by some as
yet undetermined agency. We have information linking this man,
Professor Juan Lopez de la Vega Ayala to the discovery of the body."
The mangle was replaced by a middle-aged gentleman of Latino heritage,
well-dressed but badly groomed. His graying hair, somewhat like
Einstein's, had escaped confinement and stuck out at odd angles. Where
the father of Relativity Theory looked eccentric, this man looked a
dangerously crazy.

"Professor of?" Cheri asked in a soft voice.

"Anthropology. Dr. Ayala is a proponent of both pre-Colombian
influence from South America in the North American continent and of
contact by .. er .. "elder races"." He ignored Napoleon's barely
suppressed snort of derision. "Dr. Ayala returned from South America
several years ago with what he hinted was an incredible discovery.
Since that time, he has produced several pamphlets of limited
distribution continuing to hint at ancient and esoteric knowledge to
be shared with only a few others."

"And THRUSH is always looking for information not shared with the
general public," Illya extrapolated.

"We think Dr. Ayala may be allied with the San Francisco Satrapy. I
believe you know Mr. Faversham?" The looks on their faces answered
that question as he continued. "Which brings us to Miss Yuconovich's
misplaced luggage and the bag that arrived here."

Three sets of eyes focused on Cheri. "Obvious tie-in with the
substance. Was his in a vial or on .. uhm .. the remains?"

"His clothing was soaked with it."

"But it's not what he drowned in?" she added.

"No, it was not."

Cheri had one last question: "And he wasn't drowned in that goo stuff
that got all over Napoleon's suit when he rescued me?"

"No. His lungs, what was left of them, showed signs of salt water
intrusion. Not unlikely in the area, even with the body found in the
mountains, rather than near the bay." Waverly turned his attention to
Illya and Napoleon. "I believe it would be wise to investigate both
Miss Yuconovich's double, and the potential connection between Dr.
Ayala and Mr. Faversham. Take Miss Yuconovich with you, gentlemen."

With that, they were dismissed, Waverly turning to his data feed as
they left the room. He turned and looked after them as the door
closed, his brows drawn together in thought. "Do try not to get the
rookie killed," he muttered as an afterthought.

All three agents were wrapped in thought as they returned to the
office. They were startled to find the clothes and suitcase tossed
about the room as though someone had angrily tossed them about. The
books were in shreds and the remaining box shattered leaving the two
gleaming icons sitting in the remains. Cheri held her hands up as
though to ward off the other two.

"Don't look at me. I was with you the whole time."

Illya scowled while Napoleon called security. They needed to know who
was in the office while they were gone. "Where are the other vials?"
he asked as he got off the phone.

"The lab. I left all of them there."

"Illya .."
The blond agent was out of the room at almost a run before his name
was finished. Cheri followed closely. If Napoleon wanted her to do
something else, he was too slow in getting the words out.

The lab in question was empty, which was just as well considering the
scene of smashed glass and devastation that met their eyes as they
entered the room. A lab tech, unaware of the situation, walked in
behind them with a clipboard. As he bumped into Cheri, he looked up
and his mouth dropped into an O of disbelief.

"What the Hell? ... Oh, sorry," he apologized and blushed. "I mean ...
I just walked out of here. What the ... " He caught the redundancy
factor and shut his mouth. He nodded as he recognized Illya.

"You just left?"

"I was gone maybe five minutes. I wanted to check some of these
figures with Harve."

Illya took a look at the figures. "What's the analysis for?"

"A second vial of that fluid Miss Yuconovich brought in. The values
are different, but the resultant fluid is the same ... I don't get it.
I mean ... " He looked around the lab. "I don't know exactly what I
mean, but the lab was fine when I walked out."

"You heard nothing?"

"Not a thing. And Harve's just down the hall. We should have heard
something ...." The man looked completely bewildered.

Cheri met Illya's glance and shrugged her shoulders. "Security tapes?"
she suggested.

Intermission