The Odysseus Program Affair by AJ Burfield

ACT I: The Odysseus Program

It began like all the other missions to save the world: A briefing with Waverly, airplane tickets, and the long anticipation of what was to come next as they flew towards their assignment in northern Europe . As usual, Napoleon Solo flirted madly with the stewardesses and Illya Kuryakin alternated between sleeping and reading technical briefs.

When they were in the taxi leaving the Brussels airport they began to behave a little more like one would think partners would. Solo was now all business and Kuryakin was, well, still business. He seemed to always be in business mode.

"What time is Felling expecting us again?" Solo asked, checking out the rear window to make sure they weren't being tailed.

"6:00. That's in thirty minutes," Illya replied without consulting his watch. He adjusted his tie while scanning traffic alongside.

"We should have rented a car," Napoleon growled, settling into the worn seat.

"And we both know Waverly wouldn't go for it. We're going to be here less than half a day."

They were silent for a minute. "What is it we're dealing with this time?"

"Software."

"Which is the stuff inside the hardware," Solo confirmed, still not comfortable with the intangible aspects of computers.

"Right. Think of it as the thing that controls the impulses of the brain. Thrush has the brain."

"And we want the software so their computer stays brain dead."

"I think you’ve got it," Illya said dryly.

"Like the Rain in Spain ?" Solo quipped with a grin at his partner's blank face. After a moment, he got a response.

"What does Spain have to do with it?"

Solo rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless on American cinema."

Illya shrugged as he felt for his lock pick in his lapel. "I don't have time for movies."

"You have time to read those boring manuals." Solo pointed at his partner's bulging carry on bag.

"Lucky for you that one of us keeps up on technology. We all have our preferences for entertainment," the blond agent noted. "Yours is flesh, mine is paper."

"And you don't know what you're missing, my friend!" Solo grinned.

"As usual you've managed to twist the conversation to your favorite subject. I'm not getting into this," Illya said as the taxi bumped to a stop. "How did we get on this subject, anyway? We were talking about software!" He gathered his bag to exit the vehicle.

"So was I. Just a different kind."

As the driver unloaded the bags in front of a modest hotel, both agents surveyed their surroundings from the sidewalk and automatically noted the locations and descriptions of everyone on the street. Illya paid the driver, who snarled at the measly tip and took off with a squeal of tires. Solo raised an eyebrow at the noise, and then shook his head in resignation at his partner's thriftiness. When they picked up their bags they entered not the hotel, but the tobacconist's shop adjacent to it.

The clerk eyed them from head to toe and then nodded slightly towards the rear of the store. When they moved to the back and through a curtained-off area, a stack of shelves miraculously slid aside and the agents entered U.N.C.L.E. Brussels.

They left their bags with the male receptionist and headed down the hall. "Not the welcome I expected," Solo grumbled. His complaining was short lived as he treated a lovely passing blonde to his charming smile. "That's more like it!" he noted, his walk a little lighter as he unconsciously adjusted his tie. A slight grin touched the corner of Illya's mouth as he shook his head at his partner's brashness.

The elevator took them up two levels to the top of the building where they found Mr. Felling's office to be the only one on the floor. There was a stunning view of the city from the reception area, and the agents paused to take it in. A trim brunette with accented English acknowledged them and broke their reverie. "This way Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin." They followed her obediently, and Solo particularly willingly, to a nearby conference room where she opened the door for them. "They are expecting you."

" 'They?' " Solo repeated to no one in particular as the pair stepped into the room, led by Kuryakin. The dark haired agent almost ran into the back of his partner when the door closed behind them as Illya came to an abrupt stop just inside the door. "Welcome, gentlemen." Ruben Felling, an older, gray-haired man in a tweed suit, greeted them as soon as the door clicked shut. "Please sit and we will get started." It was exactly 6:00 .

Illya did not move. Solo stepped around him and spared a glance at his partner, seeing a carefully neutral look on his face. What gave him away was the infinitesimal twitch in his jaw that indicated tenseness. Solo followed his look and saw that he was staring at the delicate, be-spectacled brunette seated at the conference table next to the Felling. Solo turned his attention back to his partner and tugged at his elbow.

"Come on, Tovarich," he said quietly, making note of his partner's behavior. Illya was rarely surprised.

The woman looked up from her files and smiled at them as they moved from the door. Illya immediately looked to his partner and moved, taking a seat as far as he could from the woman. Solo sat next to him, completely overwhelmed with curiosity, but managed to focus on the speaker.

"Do you know Dr. Reese and agent Jacob Neiman?" The agents nodded and greeted the two men seated to his left. Then Felling turned to his right. "And this is Talia Inova. She's here under unusual circumstances to help us."

Talia removed her glasses and extended her hand. Napoleon gave her his most charming smile in response and rose slightly to accept her greeting. "Miss Inova. You may call me Napoleon. Inova," he repeated slowly. "Russian?"

"Yes," she replied politely as she drew back her delicate hand and rested it on the files in front of her. "And you may call me Talia." Her accented voice was warm, soft and husky at the same time and Napoleon immediately imagined her bare shouldered in front of a crackling fire. His smile broadened a little more at its sexiness.

"Um, yes, Talia, this is my partner," he began.

"Mr. Kuryakin and I are already acquainted," she said politely. "Hello, Illya." Her tone dropped slightly at the use of his given name.

"Talia," Illya acknowledged with a tight nod. He held her eyes for a moment, then dropped his head and began fumbling with one of the manuals. "It's good to see you again." He seemed almost embarrassed, and his cheeks flushed slightly much to Solo's surprise.

Solo sat back down. "Acquainted? Really?" Illya threw him a glare.

Mr. Felling, the speaker, began the brief. "Thanks to Miss Inova, we now know that Thrush is on the threshold of implementing a new software program into their Ultimate Computer that would allow them to enter any computer at will."

"How can they do that?" Agent Neiman asked. "Aren't computers separate entities?"

"Until now, yes," Dr. Jacobs replied. "May I?" He asked Felling, who nodded for him to continue. "Right now there are computer experts world wide who are creating a system based on the ARPANET network set up by the U.S. military. The universal goal is to have an uninterrupted way to communicate in the event of nuclear war. It would be a web-like structure, connecting all computers, worldwide, that were involved via established telephone lines already in place," he explained.

"Like a highways connect countries," Solo concluded, trying to keep things simple in his mind.

"Basically, yes. But each computer has to speak the same language, and they have to share software to do that."

That lost Napoleon, and he looked to his partner for clarification. Illya said, "So if a computer connected to this system was loaded with an altered software," he stopped and re-worded his thought in mid sentence, "it would work like a viral infection does in humans. The bad programming would invade the other systems striving to speak the same language."

"Yes. And all the other computers' files would be vulnerable," Talia finished. "All information could be open to anyone fluent in the language."

"Including military secrets," concluded Solo.

"Exactly," Mr. Felling concluded. "In front of you are the files of the involved parties. Miss Inova was the one that brought all of this to our attention and will familiarize you with the background. Miss Inova?"

When Talia Inova stood she struck Solo as being a person unused to scrutiny. As her body straightened to a stand, he saw that her classically cut suit hung on a petite, almost skinny, figure. Long, dark hair was rolled into a sensual chignon with unruly tendrils that fell sensuously and unintentionally drew attention to her swanlike neck. She moved tense control to the image projected on the screen behind Felling. The picture was of an older man with a square face and unsmiling mouth.

"Arthur Danzig," she said after clearing her throat. "Currently residing in the family compound just outside Essen , West Germany . He is a powerful millionaire who surrounds himself with the brightest minds. He has a controlling interest in many industries, including new computer technology and weapons development. He has dealings world-wide."

The picture changed to a younger man with thick, curly hair, but the same recognizable jaw line. Talia now spoke with confident authority. "Arthur's eldest son, Marcus Danzig. He has been groomed to take the reins of the Danzig empire when Arthur retires. Marcus Danzig is hot-tempered, smart and cruel. He has no boundaries when it comes to protecting the family business. Arthur has the brains keep the Danzig empire solvent for decades to come; Marcus is more interested in the quick return. Together they are invincible."

Again the picture changed to a handsome, dark-haired man with a lesser version of the same jaw line and wider eyes. Talia's voice softened. "David Danzig, Arthur's younger son. A brilliant computer programmer and a bit more introverted than his father and brother, he still has the same drive to succeed. He heads up the project coding the program, which has been dubbed The Odysseus Project."

"Odysseus," Solo mused. "As in the Iliad?"

"Yes. Maker of the Trojan Horse."

"How appropriate."

"Currently, David is putting the finishing touches on the program at the compound in Essen . They have the most modern computer lab in Europe right in their basement. Potentially, the Thrush Ultimate Computer that Mr. Felling has told me about could be transferred there."

"How handy," Solo mused. "It replaced the dungeons, I suppose?"

She smiled an amused smile and her eyes sparkled. "That is probably so. It is pretty gloomy down there, but a perfect computer lab."

"It sounds like the Danzig compound is its own Thrush satrap," Neiman noted.

"In essence, yes, he does. I understand that Thrush only invites members in that can help them grow stronger. I can tell you that the Danzigs don't join organizations they take them over.

"The man that contacted the Danzigs, Emil Russo says he's on Thrush's Council. Arthur is not a fool. He knows this man Russo wants the Project in a move to control Thrush. He doesn't want the Danzigs. I also guarantee that Arthur knows more about Thrush and Russo than he lets on.

"This Program will act like the Trojan horse, hence its name. Once it's installed, Thrush will belong to the Danzigs. With Thrush's current holdings added to his, he could easily rule this hemisphere within a month and the world not long after that. Without the program, he's just another megalomaniac that would have to fight his way into Thrush. He needs this program to obtain his goal and he's told Russo very little about its full capabilities. They are under the impression that it's simply a 'tap' into other computers. It's much more than that."

The room was quiet for a moment. Finally Illya, who had been studying the papers in front of him during Talia's brief, spoke. "You seem to know the Danzigs and their compound well. Do you work for U.N.C.L.E.?" He raised his head and looked at her pointedly.

Talia moved smoothly to her seat and composed herself before meeting Illya's eyes and addressing him directly. "No. I know the compound because I have lived there for the past eight months. David Danzig is my fiancé."

ACT II: "I'm Your Cousin Androv?"

Talia Inova explained her involvement in a matter-of-fact tone. She had been plotting against her fiancé's family for nearly a year. Talia, a talented programmer in her own right, had met David Danzig two years before at a conference. He was intelligent and kind, apparently content with leaving the family business to his brother and father, claiming to be nothing like them. He had an idea of his father's ultimate goal, but tried to keep out of the loop. His brother wouldn't let him.

As they dated, Talia began to notice an increasing influence by Marcus' on his brother. Her own research revealed the power of the family. It was a temptation that David eventually found hard to resist. He explained to Talia that it was his destiny to stay with the family no matter how much she pleaded for him to leave and start his own life.

She helped David organize the Odysseus program and when she realized the implications of the software she set her own agenda. For the past year she had gathered all the information she could on the program, the family businesses, and everyone involved with Arthur Danzig. She couldn't copy the program, but could get access to the program tapes and key cards.

With the program nearly perfected, she knew it was time to act. Her research on possible allies to help her resulted in only one: U.N.C.L.E. She didn't elaborate on why she felt she could trust the agency other than they were the most knowledgeable about Thrush. She had been in the Brussels office for three weeks as they checked her, her story, and what she could remember of the Project codes.

"I left the compound with the excuse that I had to visit a sick relative in the Ukraine ." Illya's head jerked up at that note, his blue eyes icy. "I knew they would check out my story."

"So how did you get here without them knowing?" Neiman inquired.

Her grin showed that she held some cards she wasn't willing to show. "I have my ways," she said evasively. "And I know you have checked them out from this end. Getting any information from the Ukraine is most difficult, even for Danzig . I came here from there."

Napoleon noticed that statement resulted in an ever so tiny grin from his partner, whose eyes seemed to warm with a connected thought. The dark agent leaned aside; his chin propped in his palm, and regarded his blond partner. Illya, feeling the look, glanced at him, momentarily squirmed in his seat, and returned his attention to his files.

Mr. Felling rose to his feet. "This is how we will proceed: Mr. Kuryakin will join Miss Inova when she returns to the compound. You are to get the program if you can and, if not, destroy the program tapes and cards and the lab itself. Mr. Solo and Mr. Neiman will terminate the external lines to the lab, and act as back up. Pick up your papers from my office. Dr. Reese is going to attempt to tap into their computer system from here, outside the U.N.C.L.E. offices, to possibly act as a diversion if needed and to see what he can find. If we can get any information from their database that way, we will consider it a bonus."

"Sir?" Solo asked, rolling a pen between his fingers. "If I may ask, why were Mr. Kuryakin and I assigned to this? It sounds like a routine search and destroy mission." The question was posed to confirm his suspicions.

"Because I asked for Illya specifically," Talia interjected as she slowly swiveled her chair back and forth with crossed legs. An aura of weariness seemed to settle over her as she spoke. Her eyes rested on his blond partner. "I can't do this without him."

There was a heartbeat of silence as the two looked to each other and then Felling dismissed them. Dr. Reese and Neiman followed Mr. Felling out as Talia slowly rose to her feet. She fiddled with the temporary laminated U.N.C.L.E. identification card attached at her waist as she moved to the door. Napoleon waited to follow Illya, too many questions forming in his mind at one time. His partner fell in behind Talia as she passed through the doorway.

"Oh!" she yelped as the ID card jumped from her fingertips. Illya snatched it from the air in a blinding motion without even thinking.

He looked at the picture on the card then extended it to her. "You always took a good picture," he said quietly.

She accepted it with a fond smile, not at all surprised by his reflexes. "That's because I smile for the camera. You should try it sometime," she teased lightly.

Solo could see that you'd have to be blind to realize that they knew each other well. Very well.

Solo stepped up between them and took her elbow politely. The trio walked to the desk to get their documents where Talia handed over the temporary ID to the secretary with a sigh. "I guess I don't need that anymore." The woman took the card and put it in an envelope.

Illya was reading his documents. "I'm your cousin Androv? I'll have to learn some inane jokes," he commented.

"You'd have to double your weight, too, if it wasn't for your unfortunate recent illness, cousin," she giggled. She took his partner's elbow in an intimate way, and Solo was surprised that Illya accepted it without a second glance but noted that his posture stiffened slightly. "That's the reason why you are to come back to Essen with me. You need warmer weather to recover." She patted his arm.

Illya grinned a tight grin and tucked his papers under his free arm. "Let's go, then," he said. Solo detected a touch of nervousness at the tone.

Talia's small suitcase was waiting for her in the reception area. She released Illya's arm and he stepped aside quickly. "Bare essentials," she explained to Solo, who offered to take the bag. "I had to travel light across the border. The rest of my things are waiting near the train station there."

The two agents picked up their bags at the entry, and the three of them left the building. Illya kept just out of her reach and Solo happily filled in, chatting amiably all the way to the airport.

When Illya slipped into the pilot's seat of the small U.N.C.L.E. jet Talia requested to sit in the right seat. His stony faced partner didn't flinch, but Solo thought he saw a flash of panic cross his eyes. Solo was delighted at the entertainment value that was possible here.

As Illya piloted the craft eastward towards the border with the Ukraine , Talia quietly initiated conversation in their native language. Illya responded but focused on flying the plane and kept his responses short. Napoleon cursed his lack of knowledge of the Russian language, and glanced at Neiman. Neiman shrugged his shoulders in ignorance. Apparently, Solo wasn't the only one wondering what was going on between the two.

Finally, he asked about her English.

"I learned at University. I had a good teacher." Her eyes strayed for a moment to the blond pilot.

"Where did you go to college?" Solo asked.

"In the Ukraine ."

"With Illya? Is that where you know him from?" There. He'd said it.

"Yes, with Illya. We also went to state school together, before University."

"You were a ward of the state, too?" Solo got an annoyed glance from his partner, which only fueled his curiosity.

"Yes. Somehow the Nazis missed me. I really don't remember much, except that they were Romanian gypsies." Her voice softened with the memory.

That made sense to Solo; she had thick, dark hair and a darker complexion and sensual brown eyes. When asked how a blond haired, blue-eyed Illya could pass as her cousin, she laughed shortly.

"Russian bloodlines are varied and complex. It isn't unusual, really. My people were … well, gypsies. They moved around a lot."

"So you and Illya grew up together."

Her smile was disarming, but also communicated that she wasn't saying much more. "You could say that." She changed the subject and focused on U.N.C.L.E., Solo and Neiman.

The whole relationship between Illya and Talia was confounding to Solo, especially since his partner had never mentioned her before. He resolved to get to the bottom of it, but right now he and his partners had some serious problems to overcome in the terrain surrounding the Danzig compound.

Solo and Neiman picked her brain in that area. They realized that communications were going to be difficult at best due to the mountains, and if any large contingency were to be needed for an assault, there was no handy area for the cavalry to assemble. Therefore, an all out assault had to be the very last option on the list; success would rest on Illya and the mysterious gypsy woman.

Solo leaned back in quiet on final approach and sorted his thoughts while Talia and Neiman observed the countryside through the windshield. Although the Brussels office had checked her out as best as they could, they had admitted that access to the records in the Ukraine was difficult and unreliable. Solo was finding that he trusted her only because his partner seemed to trust her, and he began to wonder at his partner's frame of mind concerning her. He'd come to respect Illya's judgment, but this time he felt he needed a little more confirmation. He instinctively knew that love was an issue here somewhere, and he also knew how blind love could be.

+++++++++++++

They found their way from the small airstrip to a small town just outside the Russian border. The train from the Ukraine stopped here, and this is where Talia and Illya's return journey to Essen was to begin. Illya had time to buy some slightly oversized clothes to give the illusion of recent weight loss. He transferred his collection of ordinance-laced clothing to his suitcase with Talia's help. Napoleon observed them from afar as he and Neiman made a list of equipment needed for their extended time in the woods.

Solo noted a change in his partner since Brussels . When they'd first seen Talia, Illya had been cool and guarded. With time together he had melted into someone quite different. He actually laughed with Talia and became more animated as they conversed in their native tongue. Solo's concerns about his partner's judgment grew.

They had to talk.

The opportunity came as they were preparing to leave for the train station. Napoleon stopped his partner and pulled him aside when Talia left to secure a taxi and retrieve the luggage she had stashed somewhere in this small village. He sent Neiman to follow her discretely.

Illya frowned at the order. "There's no need for that," he said levelly.

"Look, Illya, a lot is depending on that girl and something about her makes me nervous."

"There's no need to be nervous. I trust her."

"That's just it. I don't get why you trust her. In all the time we've worked together you've never mentioned her. When was the last time you saw her? What has she been doing? What are her motives? My life may depend on this, too, my friend. How well do you really know her?"

Solo saw a wave of discomfort in his partner's expression. He knew Solo had a point. Finally, with a little sigh and a glance to make sure they were alone, Illya told his story.

He'd first met Talia in state school where she had been teased and distrusted due to her heritage. Illya, however, became her friend and they stuck together because they were both targets for the school bullies. She was quick minded, smart and adventurous. Illya was her mental equal, but a bit more reserved. They made a good pair, strengthening each other's weaknesses and backing each other up without question.

Both were involved in a Soviet 'underground' that ferried secrets and, eventually defectors, to contacts outside the country. It was an idealistic time. Both felt they were doing a great service to people stifled by an iron-fisted government. They were sent to same college where their studies leaned heavily into the sciences. While there, they continued their underground services.

"Eventually, at University, we went different directions," Illya said carefully. "After graduation, she left and I never saw her again. I know her ideals, though, and I trust her."

Solo cocked his head and studied him. "You loved her, didn't you?"

The slight flush to his cheeks gave him away and the hesitation before speaking was more telling than the reply. "We were both young."

"That's not what I asked."

"I know."

"She dumped you?"

"No, that's not what happened," Illya bristled. "We simply grew apart. I was willing to continue the subterfuge while serving the regime. She wanted a clean break from the system."

"Same thing."

"To you maybe, not to me."

"Are you sure she's the same girl?"

Illya nodded. "She has not changed."

Solo thought that one over for a few seconds. He hoped that was a good thing. "All right, then. If you trust her, I trust her." He had the feeling that there was something else, but had to trust that it didn't matter right now. Satisfied, he nodded.

When Talia returned they had a final briefing and set up a loose schedule for checking in. Finally finished, they boarded the Essen bound train.

Solo watched from a discreet distance as his partner and the dark woman walked the platform to board. Physically they were match, his lightness complementing her darkness, and they appeared very comfortable together. The carriage of his stoic partner's chin, however, and the ever so slight hint of stiffness in his back told the agent scores about his friend and partner of so many years. It was a posture that was a rare sight to Solo these days, but one clearly remembered from Illya's first days in the agency.

Illya may trust Talia, but it was clear to Solo that Illya did not trust himself.

That was a sight that Solo wasn't used to seeing in his partner anymore and it made him more than a bit uncomfortable. He realized how little he really knew about Illya Kuryakin and the events that had made him the man he was today.

"I hope you know what you're getting into," Solo mused in his partner's direction as they disappeared into the train. He scanned the small platform and station for any possible surveillance, and was satisfied. With a turn and a nod, he and Neiman stepped aboard several cars down the line from the couple.

Act III: Family Business

A driver in a sleek, black sedan met Talia and Illya at the station. The bags were loaded with efficiency.

"Prompt service," Illya commented. "Why isn't David meeting us?"

"The Project is probably keeping him." She turned to him with a sad smile. "Family business first, remember?" She squeezed his elbow briefly.

"Oh, yes. I must keep that in mind," he replied as he pulled his arm, and Talia, a bit closer.

The ride to the compound made Illya wonder how any communications would get through. The hills were steep and rocky, thick with trees. Napoleon could hide and observe easily enough, but he'd have to get in close to talk. He kept his mind on the logistics of the mission, trying to ignore the woman next to him and the familiar scent about her. They said little on the ride, making innocuous comments about the scenery flying by their windows.

They began to climb up a narrow mountain road. "Almost there," Talia said

Illya looked out as they topped a first hill. Over the trees he could see a stonewall traversing a mountain towering above them. It zigzagged across the face of the hill and disappeared among the trees. A few turns later they approached a gate in the wall. The driver slowed. Illya saw the gate swing open automatically. Cameras, but no guards here. The area here was well-groomed grass, void of any brush or tree. Approximately 100 meters later they came to a second wall and gate. Here, there guards. The small buildings were visible beyond this wall.

The guard outside the gate made eye contact with the driver and then signaled a guardhouse inside the wall. The gate swung open without a word. Double sentries, at least, Illya noted. He was beginning to admire the security. Talia's description had been exact, but that didn't surprise him.

The road curved leisurely between the small buildings and he finally saw the massive mansion. "Nice," he mumbled admiringly. She laughed brightly, but her hand found his and squeezed it firmly. He could feel her trembling and knew she was scared. "You'll do fine," he said so quietly she barely heard him.

She smiled shakily in reply, squared her shoulders, and released his hand to pat her hair in place. The car pulled up to the statuesque entry. "Remember to look sick," she breathed, now fully in control as the doorman opened the car door. She unfolded her legs and stepped out with Illya following. Taking his arm she led him up the path to the front door. When they stepped into the mansion's marble foyer there was a spray of red roses on a small table set to one side. "Oh, how sweet," Talia said, bending over the display. "American Beauties. My favorite."

Illya raised an eyebrow. "I thought purple hyacinths were your favorite."

She blushed slightly and cupped a bud in her hand. "Well, yes, but I was talking about roses."

He gave them a passing glance. "They're day olds," he commented as he looked around at the sweeping staircase, sparking chandeliers and other impressive touches.

Talia cleared her throat, then plastered on a fake smile. "Killjoy," she said without moving her lips.

"Flatterer," he replied straight-faced. Talia had said there were cameras everywhere, and that they were very well hidden. They would have to be careful.

"Ah, Talia!" The man's voice carried strongly through the air, causing Talia to turn with a genuine smile.

"David!" She released Illya's arm and accepted David Danzig's embrace. They kissed affectionately as Illya stood by.

"I missed you, dear." David said warmly. He looked her over and intimately smoothed her hair with his hand. "And this must be Androv?" He stepped aside and extended his hand, his other arm around Talia's waist.

"Yes. David Danzig, Androv Inova." Talia's introduction was breathy with nervousness.

Illya took his hand. David gripped it with a firm grip and met his eyes. Although David's lips were smiling, his eyes were cold and his grip tight to the agent. "Finally, I get to meet a relative! Nice to meet you!"

"Thank you for having me in your home," Illya said softly with a heavy accent. He didn't return the grip of the handshake, and dropped his eyes to give the appearance of being weakened by illness. "Some warmth should help me build my strength."

"You speak English quite well," David noted as he released Illya's hand.

"I speak several languages," Illya answered. "I seem to have a skill for it, and lots of time to study. Talia is the only one in the family that seems to share that skill."

"Yes, she is fluent in many tongues," David remarked.

"Um, Androv's been in poor health for some time now," Talia noted, deflecting the attention from Illya. "And must be tired and hungry. I was just taking him to his room. The Green Room, correct? It has the best light." She stepped away from David and took Illya's elbow. She steered him towards the stairs. "David? Could you have Tonnie send up some broth and maybe some of that wonderful black bread he makes? I'd like to get Androv settled."

David nodded and spoke to an old butler that seemed to appear from nowhere. He disappeared just as quietly. The driver came in with the bags, and David directed him up the stairs.

"Who's Tonnie?" Illya asked.

"The butler." Talia whispered. "He's been here forever and I think he's deaf."

David came back to them after issuing orders and took Talia's hand. They ascended the stairs together with Illya following. The pair paused to wait for him at the top of the stairs. Illya made sure his role as a recovering invalid was completely believable.

When they got to the Green Room Illya sank into an overstuffed chair, appearing winded and tired. The skeptical lines on David's brow smoothed into ones of sympathy. "Please feel free to move about the grounds as you see fit," he told the smaller man with a softer tone. "There are guards, but they will be briefed." Unexpectedly, the agent noted a look of empathy now in David's eyes.

"Thank you again," Illya replied in a weak voice.

Talia had to bow her head and turn away to conceal her amusement.

"If you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to. I'll see you at dinner, I hope?"

"Yes. I just need some rest. Thank you."

"I'll join you as soon as Androv's settled and the food gets here," Talia said as she escorted her fiancé to the doorway. David kissed her lightly on the cheek disappeared.

When she firmly shut the door, Illya immediately began to fiddle with his watch. "The room's clear for audio," he said quietly after a minute. "But I don't know about video."

Talia walked to the window next to him and drew back the curtain to open the window. "I'll check the security room. This room was clean when I left but things may have changed."

"Marcus?" Illya questioned.

"He's paranoid and thorough. That's why he's successful." She stopped and cocked her head in his direction. Slowly, he raised his head and returned her stare. She bit her lip. "I'm scared, Illya."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips and he aborted the urged to reach out to her by clasping his hands together in his lap and dropping his gaze. "I know. We've prevailed in the past, Talia. Just trust me."

"I always have and always will," she said shakily. Straightening, she brushed her hair back with her hands and began to unpack.

+++++++++++++++

When she finished unpacking Talia bee-lined straight to the computer lab. The room's familiar and comforting hum soothed her jangled nerves as soon as she entered. She paused to gather herself.

Seeing Illya again had rattled her more than she'd expected. It had taken years to deny the feelings she had for her blond countryman. The feelings came rushing back the moment she saw him, but she brushed them off, repeating to herself that David Danzig was everything she wanted.

Her mission of betrayal was begun to get David for herself. Without Arthur and Marcus in the picture, David would strike out on his own. She knew he'd be successful and ultimately happier away from them. She could see David being forced by a sense of duty into a business he didn't really want. He would eventually appreciate what she was doing.

She craved the closeness of a family, but David's family was stifling. She could see the influence already. David was determined to prove himself to his father and brother. His eyes grew harder with each passing day. She feared for him and the promise of stability. She would have to fight for him.

Talia was wholly unprepared for the rush of memories and the attached feelings when she had seen Illya in the Brussels office. She could still feel the electricity between them and was sure he did, too. She passed it off on nerves and donned a lab coat, instantly feeling comforted. She sighed as she stepped up to the coding room door and entered her personal sequence.

Talia could count on one hand the people that had access to this room. The door slid open and she walked into a sterile room lined with computer cabinets, each with two large reels spinning spontaneously as they were tasked for information. She lately envisioned the cabinets as rows of dominoes waiting to topple; her fingers tingled with the thought, a mix of fear, sorrow and excitement. Passing several cabinets she finally found David alone at a complicated console with an empty chair next to him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her approach and flashed a grin. "Hi! Come and sit. I'm just checking the final stage."

She accepted the chair next to him, feeling at home once again in front of the console. "Really? How many reels did you end up with?"

"Looks like two. Just think, Talia! The past three years of coding on two reels." Excitement tinged his voice and she smiled. He and Illya were similar in this kind of situation, and this was the David she was trying to save. Her smile faded, however, when she reminded herself of the purpose of this particular program.

"What about the keypunch cards?" She asked. The cards had been the first step in the program, a paper form of the program itself. "Are they even needed anymore?"

"Not really. I'm just using them for reference. Marcus plans on storing them in a safe place after it's launched. Redundant backup is a good idea. Reels are so easily damaged."

"Marcus is paranoid," Talia stated in a matter of fact tone.

David responded with a short, low laugh. "I wouldn't call him paranoid, really. 'Prepared' is a better term."

"Where's he going to store them?" She inquired casually as she worked with the console. "In here?"

"For now, yes," he said, waving at a heavy metal cabinet to one side. "They will be moved off site late next week. He has a place in mind."

I bet he does, thought Talia with a slight nod. "So when's the dry run scheduled?"

His voice was excited again. "Wednesday we give the overview and tour. Thursday's the actual launch day. In fact, dad is planning . . . " An intercom buzz cut him off and the tinny voice of Marcus Danzig issued forth.

"David?"

"Here," David responded.

"What are you doing down there? Get Pfitzer to take over and come to my study." Marcus did not sound pleased. To Talia, he always sounded like sour grapes.

The change in David's face was instantaneous and remarkable. At the sound of his brother's voice, David went from an excited scientist to a humorless executive. It was obvious to Talia that Marcus was determined to bring David to his level.

"Talia's here. She can continue," David remarked shortly as he rose to his feet.

"I'm sending Pfitzer down. He's been here for the last few weeks," Marcus stated with barely concealed contempt.

David ducked his head, embarrassed. "Fine," he barked as he snapped off the intercom. He glanced at Talia.

"David, it's all right. He has a point. I haven't been here," she said soothingly, knowing her fiancé would be going up alone. One rule she had learned was that you didn't enter Marcus' study without an invitation. She rested her hand on top of his. "Meet you before dinner?"

"Can't wait. I'll see you in a while." He kissed the top of her head.

"All right," she said softly as he retreated. When she heard the door close behind him she hoped one more time that she wasn't fighting a losing battle.

She spent the few minutes waiting for Pfitzer to show up going over the inputs done since she'd left. When he arrived Pfitzer gave her a verbal summary of what was to be done. She nodded, impressed. They would be ready to launch on Thursday just as David had said. She congratulated Pfitzer and rose to leave.

Her next stop was the communications lab next door to make sure Illya's room hadn't been wired for video in her absence. Although she and David had insisted on privacy for her cousin, she wouldn't put it past Marcus Danzig to do what he wished anyway.

+++++++++++++++

Solo and Neiman moved carefully and slowly into the area. They knew it would be a day or so before Illya's first check in; his partner had to find a hole in the security to do so. From what he heard from Talia and saw for himself, that hole would be difficult to find. The girl was right; Arthur and Marcus Danzig were a formidable team.

Bit by bit they planned to map the area around the compound for anything that could be used to their advantage. Radio dead zones, guard postings, natural caves and other formations, rivers and even hostile wildlife areas had to be noted. It would be tedious and grueling work, but if needed, the information would be invaluable.

The outer wall didn't exactly mark the edge of the Danzig holdings. Trees and shrubs were stripped away 20 meters out from the wall. With the security cameras, this created an open zone that would make sneaking in or out extremely difficult. The tree line actually marked the end of the Danzig compound.

Solo wanted his own sources to check out Talia Inova. He meant it when he said he trusted Illya's judgment, but he needed to know more about her. How would she act under pressure? What were her strengths and weaknesses? The person he wanted to start with the real Androv Inova. When he told his sources where to look he was told point blank not to expect much. Solo then decided to go a different track and follow up on some of those sealed details in his partner's file. Grudgingly Waverly had agreed to obtain some names for the follow-up.

"Some of the names linked to Mr. Kuryakin's past have sealed files of their own," Waverly had imparted. "I shall investigate those individuals from here."

Solo's eyebrows climbed at that comment and he again wondered about his partners' mysterious history and how Talia Inova fit in.