Illya Kuryakin began his tenure as head of THRUSH by calling an immediate  meeting of all of the organization's top personnel and ordering them to bring their best minds with them.  He said he wanted to see the best of THRUSH and tell them of his future plans.  When he was informed they could not be gathered before evening of the next day, and the suggestion was put forth the gathering should be made into a dinner party, he smiled enigmatically and said, "Yes, that would be . . . appropriate."
 
He spent the time before the party reviewing reports covering every aspect of THRUSH as well as the dossiers of all the people he was expecting for what the staff was now calling his "inaugural dinner".  He also thought of Napoleon, and prayed he would be forgiven for breaking his promise.
 

 
"How much longer?" Napoleon asked his sister.
 
"Tomorrow evening at the earliest," she replied.  She didn't tell him his condition was slowing them down; he'd only urge them to go faster and not to worry about him.
 
"I think we'll be too late," he said.  "We have to go faster."
 
"We don't dare," she told him, "we'll attract attention."  'As well as kill you,

little brother, and that's something I won't risk.'
 
The group moved on, making the best speed they could.
 

 
Illya crept into the dining hall in the early hours of the morning and made his own preparations for the evening's festivities.
 
He spent the day greeting arriving guests and listening to their ideas of where THRUSH should go in the future, usually involving schemes requiring their departments or expertise.  He was introduced to a number of brilliant young men and a few women; none of the top brass had begged off coming to this most important function or bringing their best proteges along.
 
Dinner was a sumptuous affair -- as was only to be expected, given the finest delicacies were being offered, prepared by the best gourmet chefs.  Among the offerings: Russian Caviar, flown that day from a port on the Black Sea; Alaskan King Crab; Maine Lobster; Texas Beef; English Pheasant; Peruvian Tapir, roasted whole in a pit according to a native recipe; any kind of gourmet item you could imagine, along with side dishes ranging from steamed vegetables to pasta salads.
 
Dessert was equally exotic; a wide selection of cakes, pies, compotes, confections, candies, cookies, ice creams and other delights.  A variety of beverages was also available, ranging from mineral water to Dom Perignon.  After everyone had been served dessert and a beverage of their choice, the servers were dismissed and the doors were closed.  Illya surreptitiously pressed a button on the bottom of the arm of his chair before standing to speak.
 
"I'd like to welcome all of you here this evening.  It gladdens my heart to see so many of THRUSH's best and brightest in this room.  Before I tell you of my plans for our noble organization, I wish to tell you a little story.  It is the story of a young Romanian nobleman named Vlad Tepesh."
 
Uneasy murmurs began as he continued.  "Vlad was his father's heir, but there were many among the nobles who were his enemies.  As a gesture of peace he invited them all to a feast."
 
The murmurs grew louder, and there was an element of fear in them. "I see some of you have heard the story, and realize why you are here.  For those who have not I will tell the rest.  During the feast, Vlad and his trusted few left the dining hall, locking the doors behind them and setting the building on fire.  None of the nobles left within escaped."
 
People started for the doors, but Illya's voice stopped them.  "Please don't try to open the doors -- I rigged them with explosives last night, and just now primed the charges.  Opening any door will set them off, killing everyone in this room."
 
"Do you mean to say we're trapped in here?" a department head asked.
 
"He's bluffing," someone else said.  "If what he says is true, he can't get out either."
 
"I assure you it is no bluff," Illya replied.
 
"Why have you done this?" a young woman asked.  "You had everything!  You're Commander-in Chief of THRUSH!  You hold all the power in the world!"
 
"When I took up my grandfather's sword, I swore to free my people," he said.  "The people I will free with this act are those whom you have used, crushed, oppressed and denied any freedom.  Now I will tell you my plans for this organization.  You are the head and the heart of THRUSH, and I mean to destroy it by destroying you!  Knowing the monster I am -- the
heartless, unflinching killing machine you desired -- I intend to rid the world of myself as well!"
 
He pressed another button, and the room went up in flames.
 

Napoleon and Antonia had almost reached the gates leading into the compound when the windows of the dining hall blew out on tongues of flame.  Somehow the younger of the Solos knew his love was inside that inferno.
 
"ILLYA!!  NO!!!" he screamed.