"I'll explain later," the Russian replied, nodding to their captive, "away from certain people."

The playboy turned ally nodded in return. "You mentioned using the fellow to find Angelique. How are you planning to do that, and is there somewhere you'd prefer to work."

Illya smiled wolfishly. "I have my ways." He then rattled off an address and directions to get there.

They drove in silence for a bit, then Napoleon spoke again. "Angelique DuCheine -- the name sounds vaguely familiar."

"It might, to you," Illya said. "She tends to jet set when she's not on assignment -- and sometimes when she *is*, since her forte is seduction and blackmail. I suppose she's exotic enough to appeal to the jaded palates of your peers."

The other man felt the sting of the agent's censure, and the rest of the drive passed in silence. They soon arrived at an abandoned warehouse, where Illya took their captive into an inner room to "persuade" him to talk, telling Napoleon to watch the outside door.

The playboy ignored the noises coming from the other room, and soon Illya emerged.

"Were you sucessful?"

"Yes, but we'll have to hurry to catch her."

They returned to the van and drove away, leaving their captive to be picked up by a clean-up squad.