Napoleon rose and quickly dressed, then went in search of his elder sibling.
 
"Tony?" he asked, half afraid of the answer.  Finding out his older brother was still alive had been almost as much of a shock as what his father had ordered done to him.  Discovering he now had an older sister was proving difficult to handle.
 
"It's OK, Lee," she told him, giving him a warm sisterly embrace.  "God, I've missed you so much, little brother," she said into his ear.  "I know, it's not easy for you, seeing me like this and knowing our father was responsible, even after what he ordered done to you."
 
He returned the embrace, saying, "I'll get used to having an older sister.  It's just so good to have you back at all, especially after Father -- what he told me, and what he did, to both of us."
 
Napoleon stepped back then, and said, "I need a favor, and if you don't grant it I'll have to find Illya myself and pray I get there in time."
 
"I'll do whatever I can for you," Antonia Solo replied, "since it's obvious how much you love Illya.  But there's something you need to know about him first; something our people only just discovered."
 

 
Illya Kuryakin realized early on he was being allowed to penetrate THRUSH Central's Headquarters and traps were being set behind him to ensure he wouldn't be departing.  It didn't stop him from killing every person who was unfortunate enough to cross his path, though he was aware most of them were either flunkies or out of favor; none of the real brass would be anywhere near here.
 
With one exception.
 
THRUSH's Commander-in-Chief.
 
The one man he most wanted to kill.
 
He stepped through a final pair of doors and confronted his objective.  He sat behind a huge, expensive, antique desk holding a new and very efficient-looking pistol trained on his visitor.
 
"Welcome, Illya," Maximillian Nexor said, "I've been waiting for you."
 
"You were expecting your death to come calling?" Illya replied.  "Why do I find that hard to believe?"
 
"Because you won't want to kill me once I've explained to you who and what you are, and why I've allowed you to penetrate THRUSH Central.  Do you wish to hear the truth about yourself?"
 
"That I'm an experiment in genetic engineering?  That I was meant to be your premiere assassin?" Illya sneered.
 
"You were an experiment, yes, but not the only one.  There were a dozen such as yourself, in various camps around the globe.  You were each given the same treatment and closely monitored.  Half died of the abuse inflicted on them; three others died attempting escape; the other two couldn't survive on the streets.  You, however, managed to not only survive, but to thrive under the worst of conditions."
 
Nexor's voice took on a different tone.  "I've known for a long time I needed a strong man to replace me; not one of the privileged elite who have been raised with all the comforts their parents could afford.  I wanted a successor who was absolutely ruthless, who could kill without blinking an eye, who would rule after me with the same fist of iron I've always had."
 
"Julian Solo could never see that; he wanted me to name one of his sons as my heir, thinking -- as everyone else did -- I had no children," he continued.   "His sons lacked the absolute ruthlessness and the iron will to hold THRUSH together against all comers, whether from without or within.  The Solos would have been the greatest threat to my heir, had they not been discredited.  Julian was sounding out the elite, perhaps for his son, perhaps for himself; it was well you disposed of him for us."
 
"Us?" Illya echoed.  "Who, exactly, do you mean by 'us'?"
 
"You've not yet guessed?" Nexor replied.  "I'd thought you had more intelligence than that.  Let us return for a moment to the experiment of which you were part.  I freely admit it was designed to create someone who could kill anyone without
a second thought, someone who, never having been exposed to the gentler emotions of love and kindness, would be completely lacking in same.  Someone who could kill -- or give orders to kill -- without flinching.  Someone who couldn't be
swayed because he had no one he cared for in the least; no thought of another would deflect him from his course."
 
He looked at his triumph.  "What you didn't know was your mother -- as well as all the other mothers --- were carefully selected from every elite family after having their ancestry scrutinized for several generations back.  Only the best
12 were chosen to bear my children, and even then only you survived to adulthood to become my heir, my son."