Act 3: Kuryakin, is that Russian?

Two days later in New York, Mr. Waverly stood at his picture window while a large folder was placed on his desk. Solo and Kuryakin's plane was due to land in an hour. Phase one of the plan had been executed and spectacularly at that. Somehow the mole had gotten information on Solo and Kuryakin's whereabouts and a bug had been planted.

A transcript had been received by Command and they had been adamant about his correcting what they perceived as a deviant problem. They had also decided to put the blame solely on poor Mr. Kuryakin, reasoning that KGB trained their agents for this sort of thing. So Illya would be given the choice of being sent back to the Soviets or having his memory modified. Waverly knew what the choice would be, because that's how he had planned it. Solo would of course have to step down as CEA and it was up to Waverly to pick out his replacement.

He went back to his desk and pulled out some folders of possible replacements. April Dancer and her partner, Mark Slade, were both good candidates. But they were too bright and the fewer people in on this the better. Hmmm, Joseph Carver, a bit older than Solo and not as affable, also not very imaginative, he would do. Now for Phase 2. Reaching over to push a switch, he said, "Ms. Rogers, have Mr. Carver report to my office right away, please."

"Yes, sir." Was her response.

That taken care of, there was nothing more to do but wait.

Solo and Kuryakin entered Mr. Waverly's office to find him staring out the window. "Don't bother to sit down, gentlemen. Just have a look at the folder on the table."

He heard a gasp and the folder was thrown back down on the desk. That would have been Mr. Solo, since he didn't think Kuryakin would show any emotion to what he had read. He turned around to find he was right. Solo looked pale while Kuryakin looked stony. They all knew it was part of the plan, but it was still a shock. Waverly went though the motions of charging them and then giving Illya his choices. He then called two security guards in to take them away. Turning back to the window he could only think, "Damnable business."

In time everyone concerned met in one of the interrogation rooms and following the plan Waverly had outlined, Kuryakin was given an injection of the newest memory loss drug UNCLE had available. When Napoleon had seemed to lose control and collapse Waverly had almost applauded. After having Solo removed and sending everyone out, Waverly stayed alone with Kuryakin for five minutes.

Later, as Waverly stood before the window to the room that housed a very dejected Solo, he thought he had never realized what a good actor his top agent was. "Perhaps another injection should be prepared?" He told the young technician who had taken care of Kuryakin. A repeat of what had happened to Kuryakin was instituted, and again after everyone left the room, he also spent five minutes alone with Solo. The UNCLE grapevine had a lot to say that day.

Kuryakin was assigned to the labs and seemed to be settling in quite nicely, Solo on the other hand was having a harder time of it. It was almost as if time had turned back to when Solo first started with UNCLE and was unable to work well with others. After 3 weeks, Mr. Waverly decided it was time for phase 3. Reaching for the intercom button, "Ms. Rogers, please have Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin report to my office." Yes, it was definitely time for phase 3. "Then in half an hour contact Mr. Carver and have him join us.

Napoleon arrived first and sat down, hoping this was not another lecture. The fact that he was unable to stand working with anyone was frustrating and he didn't understand it, and then there were the looks people in the hall gave him when he passed. He looked up as the door opened and a young man with blond hair entered the room. It was déjà vu. Mr. Waverly introduced the young man as Illya Kuryakin and then proceeded to repeat the code phases he had programmed them with.

Sitting back in his chair he watched as his two top agents came back to their selves. Bringing them up to date on what had happened while they were 'out'.

"You, gentlemen, will still have to act as if you'd never met." He warned them before the door behind them opened and in walked Joseph Carver.

"Sorry I'm a little late, Alex." Carver took a seat, preening himself.

Illya and Napoleon looked at one another in shock. No one ever called Mr. Waverly, Alex! At least, not a subordinate.

"Mr. Carver, you were called in here so that I could inform you that I'm pairing Solo and Kuryakin together." He said rather sharply, not liking being called by his first name by his new CEA. Turning to the two men he continued, "Perhaps you should both take the rest of day to get to know each other." Reaching for his pipe he dismissed them all.

Napoleon was heard to ask as they went out the door, "Kuryakin, huh, is that Russian?"

Carver stayed behind for a minute and looked at his boss, "Are you sure that was wise, sir?"

"Solo's performance has dropped, I need my top men back. Whether it's wise or not we will soon find out." Waverly responded.

Napoleon had just finished making reservations at the Russian Café for the evening when he looked up to find Carver standing in the doorway. Irritated he asked, "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Just remember personal calls are not for company time." Carver ordered before leaving the doorway.

Illya arrived at the Russian Café to find Napoleon already waiting for him with a drink in his hands. He sat down and picked up the menu when Napoleon ventured, "So how have you been, old friend?"

"Bored, and how has it been with you?"

"Okay, I guess, Carver put me on report 'does not work well with others.'" Napoleon responded bringing a slight smile to the Russian's face.

Suddenly there was someone beside him and he turned thinking it was the waitress to find Angelique. "Napoleon, Darling, how nice to see you again." She purred.

"Angelique," he nodded in response, "what brings you here?"

"Well, it has been such a long time, I thought we might get together for some fun and games. And how is your little Russian buddy?" she asked as she leaned over the table to pinch Illya on the cheek, perhaps a little harder than need be.

Illya flinched in pain and Angelique found her wrist in a bone-gripping hold. "Napoleon, you're hurting me."

"Keep your hands off of him." Napoleon said through gritted teeth as he let go of her wrist.

Removing her hand from Illya's face, she rubbed her wrist. "So the rumors are true." She said softly "Well, I know when I'm not wanted." And with that she turned and flounced away.

Illya folded up his menu. "Suddenly I'm not hungry anymore."

"That's gonna be some bruise. Why don't we go to my apartment and order Chinese?" and with that they got up and left the restaurant.

As they entered Solo's apartment, Napoleon went to the phone to order supper while Illya went to the kitchen to get some ice for his face. Opening the freezer he was surprised to find a cold bottle of vodka there. "Ah, what's this?" He asked as he walked into the living room.

"Oh, that's been in there for months, I didn't know quite why." Napoleon looked up in time to see Illya take a swig directly out of the bottle and than hold the chilled bottle to his cheek. Suddenly the doorbell rang. "That was fast and use a glass you ignorant Russian." He said as he went to answer the door, while Illya went over to the bar to get a glass.

"George?" Was Napoleon's query as he opened the door to find not his supper but George Dennel.

"Hi, Napoleon. Hi, Illya" George greeted them cheerfully as he entered the apartment.

"What are you doing here?" Napoleon asked.

"Mr. Waverly sent me," holding up his hand to show a Waverly ring. "He wanted you to have these." He said, handing an envelope to Napoleon.

Illya sat at the counter staring at George in amazement as Napoleon started to open the envelope. "

George leaned close to Napoleon, keeping his eyes on Illya. "So how is it to … you know?" He asked elbowing Napoleon.

Napoleon getting a grip on George's elbow guided him out the door. "Good night, George."

"Good night, Napoleon. Night, Illya." George stood on tiptoe to look over Napoleon's shoulder to address Illya, who saluted him with the vodka bottle.

"What was that all about?" Illya asked as he took another swig from the bottle.

"Oh, nothing," Napoleon answered preoccupied with going through the papers in the envelope.

Illya came over to see what the envelope contained. "I can't believe George has a Waverly ring. Why is it I never get a Waverly ring?"

"Be glad you don't. Evidently Mr. Waverly trusts him to help us." Napoleon took the papers and started spreading them on the coffee table. "Will you please use a glass?"

When the food finally arrived, they ate in silence as they went over and over the papers they had received. After a while Illya moved over to one of the chairs and sitting in it with his legs over one arm started drinking vodka out of the bottle again. "Strange how Angelique showed up at the restaurant tonight." He voiced.

Napoleon looked up running his hands through his hair, he was missing something, but he didn't know what. "Huh, yes, I guess it was… " He responded preoccupied.

Bringing his legs back to the floor and leaning forward, "Who knew we were eating at the Russian Cafe?"

Distracted from the papers Napoleon thought back. He had gone into his office to use the phone to make the reservation and;"Carver."

"Carver?" Illya questioned. "Carver's the mole?"

"Oh shit." Was the reply.