"Sir!"

The Commander-In-Chief of THRUSH accepted the low bow of the courier, who had just bounded into his office, with a dismissive wave of his hand, bored with such obsequious formalities, but just as eager to punish the slightest failure of any underling to perform them. The slightly greying commander of all THRUSH peered over his wire-rimmed spectacles through stray strands of blonde and silver, vaguely amused at the way that the military courier remained frozen in position, slightly trembling hand outstretched and clutching a communiqué -which the courier would continue to do until his supreme leader
released him to do otherwise. Or he collapsed. Whichever came first. The Commander-In -Chief of THRUSH allowed himself the faintest smile -*this* was true power.

After another long drawn-out minute, the printed missive was accepted and storm-blue eyes took in the information. "So..." THRUSH's Number One murmured, his German accent more pronounced as it tended to be when he was quietly amused. "It would seem that General Solo's camp headquarters *and* his people have been destroyed..."

"Yes, sir...Re-reconnaissance of the area...found no...no survivors..." The military courier swallowed deeply, half expecting
and half dreading one of the explosions of temper for which his Number One was well known... and confused that as yet, he saw no sign of the approaching storm in the Commander-In-Chief's visage...

...and he could read THRUSH Number One's inscrutable countenance better than most for the simple reason that the man had yet seen fit to kill him.

Few people beyond THRUSH's upper echlon's inner circle had ever actually met their Number One in person, and enjoyed the experience once they had, for though the Commander-In-Chief was an attractive man by most standards, those eyes seemed able to send twin lasers of ice through the bravest soldier's heart...and he was never more dangerous than when he smiled.

And vague though it was, he was smiling now.

The courier resisted the urge to step backwards and continued to relay his message. "There is more, sir -apparently, the traitor Captain Solo was not among the remains. One of the faithful citizenry witnessed his rescue by what seems to be another splinter resistance group headed by someone who fits the description of Antonia Solo. Um..." He swallowed again, sweat beginning to trail down the sides of his face. "The rebel Kuryakin was also sighted among them."

"And..?" That smile was back again. "There *must* be more or you would not appear to be close to soiling yourself."

"Yes, sir. There have been sporadic sightings of Kuryakin, since the incident at General Solo's camp, and they would indicate a likely pattern of movement."

"Ahh..." The Commander-In-Chief's voice had lowered, almost the purr of a contented cat. "Your sources believe that he is on his way here. Am I correct?"

"Again -yes, sir..." The voice came out as a squeak. Somehow, THRUSH's Number One was twice as frightening when he appeared to be pleased with himself. "Central's security corps has sent out search parties to intercept-"

"*NEIN*!" The Commander-In-Chief's voice suddenly snapped out like the cracking of a whip. "You will *not* hinder Herr Kuryakin's progress to this place -make all the troops know this! I am quite...'eager' to make his acquaintance."

"Sir..?"

The dangerous light returned to the cold eyes. "Do you question me, lieutenant?"

"*No!* I mean...no, sir. I will do as you wish..." At another dismissive gesture, the courier quickly backed out of the spacious office, grateful to be away from there. So close... *Too* close. No-one in his right mind *ever* questioned the Commander-In-Chief of  THRUSH -no-one ever questioned Maximillian Nexor.

Napoleon Solo sat up sharply, heart beating a violent tattoo, as he snapped awake from sweet dreams that had suddenly turned sour. Why...  *How* he knew, he could not fathom, but somehow, he *knew*. Illya was in a kind of danger that he couldn't have expected...and if something wasn't done, he wouldn't be coming back -vows or not.

Solo forced himself to sit up fully, his abused body protesting the movement, and hissed as he curled his fingers against his scarred palm. Between his soulmate and himself, there could be no deceptions.

He *had* pledged to not interfere with Illya's mission...

...but he had *not* promised not to help.