(Most characters and situations in this story created by Norman Felton and Sam Rolfe; Ward Baldwin originally created by David McDaniel.  "Oh My Goddess!/Ah! My Goddess" and "You're Under Arrest!" characters created by Kosuke Fujishima. Inspiration gratefully acknowledged to other fanfic authors such as Bill Koenig (for his "Timeshift" series portraying our heroes in today's world), Cindy Walker, Linda Cornett (especially for her portrayal of Angelique in "The Devil's Slingshot Affair"), Lois Balzer (who created a surname for Serena), et al., and all the people on MFUWSS and elsewhere who reviewed and commented on early versions (thanks, Bruce!) And of course, I wish to thank the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, without whose cooperation this story could not have been written.)

(TEASER)

TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY, CHIBA PREFECTURE, JAPAN

It was a dark and stormy night, and a shot rang out.

Then another shot.  Then more and more, coming in a fusillade of small explosions.

Then a young female voice, crying out in glee.  "Got 'em!  Whoo hoo! I'm up another level!"

The young female in question was sitting at a desk in front of a computer, plying a game controller as she continued to blast enemies.  Her huge dark eyes sparkled with anticipation as she played, the triangular markings on her cheeks and oval mark on her forehead standing out against her pale skin.

Another person, a young woman looking some years older, opened the sliding door and padded across the tatami mats into the room.  She bore a close resemblance to the first,  though the mark on her forehead was diamond-shaped rather than oval and her long hair was light brown instead of midnight black.

"Skuld, dear, it's awfully late.  Keiichi-san does need his sleep, after all, and he's complaining that all that noise is keeping him up...oh my, you advanced another level? Wonderful!"

"I'll be done in just a moment, Onee-sama", Skuld replied.  She cast a sidelong look back at her older sister with one eye.  "Keiichi's a college grad, he should be used to keeping late hours."

"It's different now that he's out of school, dear," the other woman replied, chuckling.  "You know how Chihiro-san grumbles if he's not fully awake in the mornings when we go down to Whirlwind to work."

"What's all that noise in there?" a third voice called, sultry and sexy.  Yet another woman came into Skuld's room - _floating_ in the middle of the air.  She was darker than the other two, with striking hair which looked platinum in some lights and white in others, though she had similar facial markings, the one on her forehead being a downward-pointing triangle. "I'm trying to do some experiments, you know."

"More love potions, Urd?" Skuld grumbled.

"None of your beeswax," replied Urd loftily. She turned to the third female.  "So what level has Skuld gotten to now, Belldandy?"

"Um, I'm not quite sure." Belldandy peered at the monitor screen. "I think it's level sixty or sixty-one.  Good heavens, Skuld, look out for that Thrushman!"

"WHAT?!" Skuld cried, frantically pounding at the buttons on her controller.  A terrible explosion blasted out from the speakers.  The girl's shoulders slumped.  "Oh, darn."

"Hope you remembered to save, kid," Urd smirked.  Skuld smirked back, pointing to the menu that had replaced the gameplay screen.  Urd rolled her eyes good-naturedly.  She glanced at the game's jewel box, which bore the rather garish legend "SUPER U.N.C.L.E. GLOBAL DEFENDERS" in katakana under a skeleton-globe logo.  "Hope you didn't get the little blond guy killed off. I like him, he's cute."

Skuld scoffed.  "Cute? He's a tech expert. Of _course_ he's cute."

Belldandy ventured with a smile, "I rather like the dark-haired hero myself. He looks like a nice gentleman, and he's so well-dressed."

Skuld commented with a dreamy look in her eye, "Do you ever think we'll get to meet people like those?"

"What, U.N.C.L.E. agents?" Urd scoffed.  "What an idea, kiddo. Why would they be interested in our sleepy little corner of Japan?"

"Don't call me a little kid," growled Skuld.

"What was...oh, I see," a male voice called.  A young man with pleasant, open features and a rather spiky haircut walked into Skuld's room.  "How far did you get, Skuld?"

"Level sixty-two," Skuld replied pridefully. The young man nodded, then looked at the computer setup.  His eyes narrowed.  "Hey...isn't that _my_ game controller?"

Skuld looked slightly abashed.  "Uh, well, Keiichi, you see, I used the one I already had building the new remote control for Banpei-kun, and I didn't have time to go buy a replacement."

Keiichi grunted in wordless annoyance, then shrugged and said, "Well, at least you weren't trying to build an infinite space generator or some such..."

He was interrupted by another loud explosion.  Looking quizzically at Skuld, he went on, "I thought the game was over."

Skuld looked back at the monitor screen.  "It _is_ over." Another explosion reverberated, followed by automatic-weapons fire.

"That was coming from outside - from the direction of NIT.  I'd better go see what's going on," Urd said.  She levitated at speed through the window.

"Urd, do be careful!" Belldandy called out after her elder half-sister.  She turned to Keiichi with a worried expression.  "I wonder what it could be.  I know there are quite a large number of sensitive projects being carried out at the university.  I hope it's not some kind of terrorist attack..."

Urd suddenly came back, her face grim.  "Morrow's gone."

"What?" everyone else cried.

"I said, Morrow's gone," Urd replied impatiently.  "Somebody attacked the robotics lab - there seems to have been some kind of a firefight with the campus security force - and Dr. Morrow's not there."

***************************************************************

ACT ONE - "Goddesses?!"

NEW YORK, NEW YORK
SOMEWHERE IN THE EAST FORTIES

Napoleon Solo, Number One, Section Two (Chief Enforcement Agent, Operations and Enforcement) had an uncharacteristic scowl on his normally amiable face as he strode through the heavy metal door into Reception from Del Floria's.  The receptionist on duty noticed.

"Why, Napoleon, whatever can be the matter?" she asked as she pinned Napoleon's "11" badge onto his perfectly-tailored suit jacket.  

Napoleon sighed.  "Blasted cable TV repairmen again."  The receptionist got an "oh, _them_" look on her face and nodded sympathetically.  Illya Kuryakin, Number Two of Section Two, overheard as he entered.  "Are you still having trouble with your new digital setup, Napoleon?"  He accepted his "2" badge from the receptionist and pinned it onto his somber black jacket (matching his equally somber black turtleneck sweater; Napoleon occasionally wondered how he managed to stay comfortable in that article of clothing in the imitation sauna of New York's summers).

"It's the same old damn thing," Napoleon answered in a tone of frustration as the two agents strolled down the steel corridor, weaving past other headquarters personnel.  "Every channel above 100 on my box seems to be malfunctioning - it's like a MPEG that won't play properly because there's not enough juice in the computer, the picture keeps skipping or freezing or blacking out altogether.  I've called the cable company over and over, they've been out at least twice, but they can't seem to figure out what's wrong.  In fact, I'm actually irritated because the repairman can't get into the utility room at my building."

"Why's that?" Illya asked.

"Well, it seems all the connections for the cable are in that room. He says the problem's not in my condo, so it must be in there.  The thing is, he's come out on the weekends both times and there's nobody in the office to give him the key to the utility room."

"You didn't try picking the lock?" Illya ventured.  Napoleon gave him a look, then continued.

"So last Friday, I finally got an appointment before the office closes - you remember, I took off early that day - and I got home and went straight to the condo office to tell them to give the repairman the key.  And what happens? The manager is gone for the whole week!"  Napoleon shook his head.

Illya considered that, then raised a blond eyebrow.  "Well, Napoleon, you really didn't need to have wasted all that time and effort.  You could simply ask me to take a look at the box."  Napoleon paused, looked at the Russian, then groaned and slapped his forehead.

The intercom crackled.  "Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin," the voice of Lisa Rogers, Mr. Waverly's secretary, announced, "please report to Mr. Waverly's office at your earliest convenience."  The U.N.C.L.E. agents changed directions and headed toward the elevator.

**************************************************************

"Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, please be seated."  Alexander Waverly, Number 1, Section 1 (Director, Policy and Operations) of U.N.C.L.E.'s North American continental command, waved his two top enforcement agents to chairs at the big revolving table in his office.  "I have a project for you - something that has occurred just very recently in Japan.  One Dr. Morrow, a very eminent robotics researcher, has disappeared from his laboratory at the Nekomi Institute of Technology under violent circumstances.  I fear that Thrush may be involved."  He drew a pipe from a rack that held at least a dozen wildly varying styles of smoking implements and began hunting for tobacco.

"Seems likely, sir," Napoleon concurred.  "Thrush's always been passionately interested in securing the services of leading researchers, and they've not always been too gentle about how they do it either.  Though this seems like something particularly up Illya's avenue." He nodded at his partner.

Illya nodded in turn.  "I know of Dr. Morrow's work, though I haven't met the gentleman in person.  He has been specializing in constructing robots that can move their limbs like human beings, to the extent of being able to walk and run.  Until recently, he'd not been having much success, but then he made several significant breakthroughs - though he has not been particularly forthcoming about how he achieved those breakthroughs.  This is presenting peer reviewers with some difficulties."

Napoleon grinned at his chief. "See what I mean? Illya knows more about this than I do."

Illya glanced at his partner.  "If you bothered to read the journals, Napoleon, you'd also know more than you do." Napoleon made a face.

Waverly coughed admonishingly, still peering around the room looking for his tobacco tin.  "Gentlemen, let us return to the matter at hand.  The breakthroughs that Mr. Kuryakin refers to could be of significant assistance in fields such as construction, mining, deep-sea exploration...or even have military applications.  For instance, a nation that was able to field a force of robot infantry would be at a significant advantage in its operations, especially in difficult terrain such as is present in much of Africa and southwestern Asia.  Indeed, I am given to understand that the United States is researching just such technology to aid its efforts to reduce terrorist sanctuaries in Afghanistan and elsewhere."

"On the other hand," Napoleon interjected, "terrorists would be very interested in this technology themselves.  The latest intel says that groups like al Qaeda in Iraq are having increasing difficulty finding volunteers to act as suicide bombers.  If they could get ahold of some of those walking robots, disguise them as people and load them up with explosives, they wouldn't have to face that particular problem anymore."

"Just so, Mr. Solo. Just so.  And let us not forget Thrush itself. That malign organization would be very happy to acquire a new body of troops - troops that it wouldn't have to pay, house and feed - and would be absolutely delighted to receive the revenue that would accrue from sales of those robots."  He scowled suddenly.  "Miss Rogers seems to have hidden my tobacco again.  Pardon me a moment." He pressed a button on his intercom.  "Miss Rogers, if you happen to have seen my tobacco tin, would you bring it in, please? Thank you."  A moment later, the door slid open and Lisa Rogers entered with a slightly sheepish look on her lovely face, holding a round tin which she handed to the Chief.  Waverly nodded, accepting the tin and dismissing his secretary, and as she walked back out, began stuffing his pipe, muttering something inaudibly under his breath which Napoleon thought had to do with having to put up with mother-henning.

Waverly pointed at Solo and Kuryakin with the stem of his pipe.  "Gentlemen, you must proceed to Japan immediately, find out where Dr. Morrow has been bestowed, rescue him, and put an end to any attempt by Thrush - or whomever - to exploit Morrow's work for their nefarious ends.  I will not be so melodramatic as to say that the fate of the world depends upon your success in this affair, but if you fail, Thrush will have won a significant advantage in our ongoing conflict.  Are we understood?"

The two Enforcement Agents nodded.

Waverly nodded.  "Now, then, gentlemen." He pressed a key on his computer keyboard, and the plasma screen on one wall of the office lit up.  "This is Dr. Morrow." The picture showed a stubby man of indeterminate ancestry, somewhere in his fifties or sixties, with an unruly Einstein-like shock of hair, a bushy moustache and what looked like a perpetual scowl on his face.  "And here is the Thrush satrap suspected in his disappearance." The screen now showed a good-looking man, middle European, mid-forties, with a mouth that looked as if it could easily become very cruel.  "Stefan Andrassy.  Newly appointed satrap of Thrush-Japan.  He has compiled a record of exceptional recklessness, not to say brutality, in his operations on behalf of the Technological Hierarchy.  He is often seen in the company of this woman..." Now the screen displayed the picture of a beautiful Italian woman, looking very much like a young Gina Lollobrigida.  Solo's eyebrows rose in appreciation.  "Juliana Antonelli.  Andrassy's second-in-command, mistress, jane-of-all-trades...and executioner.  Be wary of her, gentlemen - and you in particular, Mr. Solo.  She is reputed to have a sadistic streak the proverbial mile wide."  Waverly pointed his pipe at Solo.  "You may be interested to know, Mr. Solo, that this Miss Antonelli is an old...unfriend, shall we say...of your old acquaintance Miss Angelique La Chien.  Intelligence reports that the two have been rivals since their early days in the uniformed branch of Thrush."

"That could be useful," Napoleon commented.

"Quite." Waverly clicked more keys.  "Now, we turn to the peculiar part of the matter.  The Nekomi Institute of Technology has been of more than passing interest to the United Network Command, aside from the obvious reasons, due to a string of remarkable - indeed, dare I say, bizarre - events that have occurred there in recent years."  The photograph of a pleasant-looking young man with wide brown eyes and a shock of indifferently barbered brown hair rezzed onto the screen.  "This is Keiichi Morisato, a recent graduate of N.I.T., where he majored in mechanical engineering.  He is a semiprofessional race driver of some considerable note in Japanese racing circles, and is reliably reported to be highly expert with the modification, enhancement, maintenance and repair of all types of motor vehicles, though he especially fancies motorcycles - indeed, he works at a custom cycle shop in Nekomi city by the name of Whirlwind.  The point of interest, though, is not so much in Mr. Morisato himself as in the young ladies he associates with."  A picture of a lovely young woman with huge blue eyes, a great deal of light-brown hair tied back into a ponytail and springing out wildly over her forehead, and strange blue markings on her forehead and cheekbones.  Napoleon grinned, and Illya smiled slightly. "This is Belldandy (an odd name, that!) - no surname seems to be available for her - who has been keeping company with our Mr. Morisato for the last several years.  She has been at the center of many of the strange events I mentioned earlier.  They met under odd circumstances - apparently, she showed up almost literally out of nowhere - and since their first meeting they have resided in a former Buddhist temple complex, called Tariki Hongan, just outside the city center of Nekomi, not far from N.I.T."

"The disappearance of Dr. Morrow was originally reported by this young lady." The picture on the screen changed yet again, to a stunningly beautiful woman with hair almost the exact platinum shade of Angelique's, remarkable golden-brown skin of a silky texture that Napoleon felt the urge to reach out and touch, and equally remarkable devil-green eyes with a glint combining sardony and seduction. "Her name is Urd - oddly enough, she also does not appear to have a surname, at least not one that was obtained by the local law enforcement or UNCLE office in their preliminary investigations - but as you will see, she is fairly recognizable."

Napoleon looked at the picture, a smile playing on his handsome face. "I'll say!"  Illya also looked at the image on the screen.  With a sidelong look at his friend, he said, "Well, Napoleon, I see your enthusiasm for this mission has already increased exponentially."

"Wouldn't be a really worthwhile mission if there weren't a beautiful woman involved somewhere," Napoleon said cheerily.  Conscious of Waverly's gimlet eye, he nodded to his chief, not really abashed.  "Don't worry, sir. I know the mission. I'll stay focused."

"See that you do, Mr. Solo," Waverly grumbled.  "Women of a - um - presentable nature do seem to make their appearances during your various affairs in numbers out of all proportion to the law of averages."  He nodded to the screen.  "This Miss, uh, Urd is Miss Belldandy's elder sister, apparently.  She arrived from points unknown not long after Belldandy and has made her home with the couple ever since.  She has also been involved in her share of odd happenings."  The picture on the screen changed one more time.  "This is one Skuld, who is apparently the younger sister of Urd and Belldandy."  This was a girl, really, apparently no older than 13, with huge brown eyes, raven-black hair and a rather garish scarlet-and-white outfit.  She was grinning cheekily at the camera, holding an unidentifiable electronic device in her gloved hands.  "She is, by all accounts, a veritable wizard with every type of electronic and mechanical device.  One picture in particular is especially fascinating..."  The image changed to a slightly fuzzy overhead shot of Skuld and Urd standing in a yard, faces upturned, watching a trail of smoke reaching upward off the field of view of the camera.  "An U.S. reconnaissance satellite captured this image of what appears to be a rocket launch a couple of years ago, conducted by Miss Skuld."

"A model rocket launch?" Illya asked.

"No, Mr. Kuryakin." Waverly shook his head.  "The rocket was small, but it was quite real - and it carried a working satellite payload, which was duly deposited into orbit.  We have, as yet, been unable to determine the exact purpose of the satellite."  Illya looked mildly impressed.  Waverly continued, "There are others who are of interest in the community surrounding Mr. Morisato, but their particulars are contained in your briefing papers.  You will proceed to Nekomi at the earliest practicable time and make contact with this Urd and her family, and ascertain what they may know about the disappearance of Dr. Morrow and his possible whereabouts.  Exercise extreme caution if you should happen to encounter Mr. Andrassy, Miss Antonelli or their henchmen.  Are there any further questions?"  The Enforcement Agents shook their heads.

Waverly humphed in satisfaction.  "Then, gentlemen, I suggest you get on with it."  Napoleon and Illya rose to leave with "Yes, sirs" murmured in near-perfect unison.  As Illya was about to walk through the door, he stopped and turned back.  "Incidentially, sir, you forgot to light your pipe."

Waverly blinked.  "H'm?" He peered at the cold pipe in his hand.  "Oh, yes, so I did.  Thank you, Mr. Kuryakin." He located a match, struck it, and applied it to the pipe, and as the door shut, the agents could smell the first aromatic cloud of smoke.

*************************************************

As Napoleon and Illya were leaving Waverly's office, George Dennell came up to them, carrying a foot-high stack of files.  The bespectacled head of Section Four said, "Here's the material on Nekomi.  Some of it is just, well...preposterous."

"Preposterous?" Illya asked as Dennell dumped the stack in his arms.

"Preposterous, as in there are rumors going around that the people you're looking into are goddesses."

"Goddesses?!" Napoleon and Illya stopped in the middle of the corridor, staring at their colleague.

"All those weird things happening.  You know. Magic. Demons, mysterious creatures, things that go bump in the night.  At any rate, that's what people over there are saying.  And they do have the names of mythological goddesses."

Napoleon still didn't look enlightened, but Illya nodded.  "Yes, they have the same names as the Norse Norns." Before Napoleon could ask, Illya went on, "The Norns, in Norse mythology, were the caretakers of Yggdrasil, the World-Tree.  Perhaps their parents had a fondness for the Norse pantheon."

"Maybe." Dennell shrugged.  "Anyway, it's all there for you to look over. Good luck!" With a nod, he headed back to his office.

Illya looked at Napoleon, shrugged, and settled the stack of files more securely in his arms.  Just at that moment, the head of Section Seven (Propaganda and Finance), a shapely, elegant brunette in a crisp suit with a big satin bow at her throat, came down the corridor. "Oh, Illya! I've been looking for you!"

"What is it, Denise?" the Russian answered.  Napoleon stood by idly, watching the encounter and hoping for something he could rib his partner about later; Illya was usually fairly cool with the beauties who populated U.N.C.L.E. headquarters in disproportionate numbers.

"I wanted to give you the latest figures on the game," Denise said, handing Illya a sheet of paper, which he took with two free fingers while hanging on to the files.  He scanned the sheet and one slender eyebrow cocked upwards. "Very impressive," he said.

"Yes, isn't it?" Denise answered happily.  "The Chief will be _so_ pleased - it's making a ton of money for us and it's driving positive opinion of the Command WAY up among the twelve-to-twenty-one set. See you later!" she said, and with a flirtatious wink and sway of hips, she continued on her way toward Waverly's office.

"Game?" Napoleon asked.

"H'm?" Illya was still absorbed in considering the columns of figures.  "Oh, yes.  Section Seven came up with the idea, and Mr. Waverly agreed.  He thought it was a good way to reach the younger generation - and you know how he is about the public image of U.N.C.L.E."

"Yes, I know - but _game_?" Napoleon repeated.

"A multi-platform first-person-shooter game - PC, Macintosh, PlayStation, XBox, et cetera," replied Illya succinctly. "The player takes the persona of an U.N.C.L.E. agent completing various missions. He or she gets to shoot lots of Thrush agents."

"Uh-huh," Napoleon replied skeptically.

"You're in it," Illya continued.

Napoleon froze in the middle of the corridor and gaped at his partner. "Say WHAT?!"

"You're in it," Illya repeated. "So am I, for that matter.  Don't worry - we're not identified by name and our features have been changed.  I took charge of the programming for that part myself to make sure of that."

Napoleon shook his head.  "Character in a computer game. What's next?" he said to nobody in particular.

*************************************************

SOMEWHERE IN THE NOB HILL DISTRICT
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA

"Ah, Miss La Chien, please sit down," Ward Baldwin said, grasping his cane and rising to greet his guest.

"Thank you, sir," Angelique La Chien replied, nodding respectfully to the head of the San Franciso satrapy of Thrush.  She sat elegantly in the offered chair, crossing her shapely silk-sheathed legs in a decorous but enticing manner.  Baldwin gave the limbs a properly appreciative glance before resuming his own seat.

"I asked for you to come to see me today because I have a mission for you to carry out," he said without preamble.  "Are you currently engaged in work for anyone else? Marton, say?"

Angelique shook her head. "No, sir.  In fact, I've not seen Victor Marton in several months, since the last assignment I performed for him.  I've mainly been working at Central in the interim, helping with hardware and software upgrades for the Ultimate Computer."  She chuckled with a somewhat sour note.  "Who would ever have thought to see the day when third-party malware would become almost as serious a threat to our operations as the machinations of U.N.C.L.E.?"

"Who indeed?" Baldwin agreed.  "But you will have to turn your attention from trying to frustrate 'crackers' for a while, my dear.  There is an ongoing project in Japan and eastern Asia - several projects, in fact - that stand on the cusp of success or failure.  Their success or failure may depend as much on preventing well-meaning, or not-so-well-meaning, interference from other sections of the Hierarchy as on preventing United Network Command interference."

"I'm not entirely sure I follow you, sir," said Angelique, frowning a bit.

"A name may help explain; Stefan Andrassy."

Angelique's gorgeous face acquired an expression of distinct distaste.  "Oh. _Him_.  How in the world did such a repellent man achieve so high a rank in our organization?"

"The same way, my dear, I have to say, that anyone else does in Thrush; hard work, a high success rate and unflagging loyalty to the organization.  Which is not to say that I disagree with your opinion.  Andrassy is able, to be sure, but he is also overweeningly ambitious and overreaching.  I am very concerned that he may jeopardize Thrush's position in the western Pacific Rim, at a time when we can ill-afford financial loss, if he does something really stupid; and I am afraid the abduction of Professor Morrow of Nekomi Institute of Technology qualifies.  There is another factor..."

Baldwin fell silent for a moment. Angelique looked expectantly at him.

"U.N.C.L.E. will undoubtedly send their top team to investigate the recent goings-on in Japan."

"Solo and Kuryakin, you mean," Angelique supplied.

"Indeed.  Andrassy may well attempt to have them killed.  As strange as it sounds, such an outcome would be another disaster for the Hierarchy, in the current world situation.  With the Jihadist barbarians at the gates - " Baldwin waved his cane as if it were a sword and he were doing battle with a Saracen - "we have reached a sort of _modus vivendi_ - an uneasy and oft violence-ridden one, to be sure - with the United Network Command.  The killing of their two premier Enforcement Agents would upset that delicate balance.  Not to mention, of course, the personal feelings we both harbor for these men - more intimate, perhaps, in your case than in mine, certainly for Mr. Solo."

Angelique nodded silently.

"And Andrassy has ideas about vending this new robotics technology to various terrorist gangs which I can only describe as lunatic.  The Hierarchy, by its very nature, stands on the side of material, scientific and technological progress - not on the side of those who want to revert us all to some fanciful medieval paradise based on religious law.  Osama bin Laden and his ilk are prime specimens of the Undesirables we propose to Remove once we achieve our aim of world conquest...and Andrassy wants to _aid_ them?  A lunatic, I say."  Again, Angelique nodded.  What was there to say, really?

"Therefore, Miss La Chien, your task is twofold, or perhaps even threefold.  Firstly, protect the legitimate interests of Thrush in Japan.  Secondly, rescue Mr. Andrassy from his own folly, up to and including freeing Dr. Morrow from his clutches if necessary.  Thirdly, protect Solo and Kuryakin.  I expect," he said with a twinkle in his heavy-browed eyes, "that that last will not necessarily prove a burden for you."

"True," Angelique concurred with a slightly wicked smile, "though it will doubtless be an intense annoyance to Mr. Kuryakin." She paused, thinking.  "Sir, I'd like to request one additional agent to assist me in this project."

"Who do you have in mind?"

"Serena Malipiero," Angelique replied simply.  There was a brief silence.

"Two agents to cover Solo? Isn't that redundant?"

"Oh, no sir," Angelique answered.  She began to smile again, this time with genuine amusement.  "I intend for Serena to cover Mr. Kuryakin."

Another silence, then a hearty laugh from Baldwin. "I see! I rather wish I could be there.  Maybe you should sell tickets, that would recoup some of our unexpected expenses this past year. Approved. Serena will meet you at Narita Airport in Tokyo when you arrive."

"Thank you, sir."

"Oh, and Angelique? One more thing."

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't spend too much money in the anime shops in Akibahara. I know your habits, and you might be interested to know that the new season of Ghost in the Shell is out on DVD."

Angelique laughed outright.  "Thanks for the tip, sir."

*************************************************

SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY

"Ah, Juliana, come in," Stefan Andrassy, the newly appointed satrap of Thrush-Japan, called to his mistress.  Juliana Antonelli slinked into the elegantly appointed office and took a seat before Andrassy's desk, making a production of crossing her black-silk-sheathed legs.  Andrassy eyed the sight appreciatively, then got down to business.

"You're to be complimented on the operation that secured Professor Morrow's services for Thrush, my dear, but I'm afraid that we've drawn the notice of - well - inimical eyes," Andrassy commented with a slight note of apology.  Juliana shrugged elegantly.

"That's the risk we run in our business, Stefan.  I assume that the U.N.C.L.E. is sticking their collective noses into other people's business again?"

"Yes, indeed."  Andrassy handed over several photographs.  "It is quite likely that that old rascal Waverly will be sending his best investigative team to try to expose and thwart our efforts - " he pointed at the photos that Juliana was holding - "Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin."

Juliana studied the images, then curled her full lips disdainfully.  "Likely-looking men, true enough, but I have difficulty believing that two men alone can have been so much trouble to the Technological Hierarchy in the past."

"So you've heard the stories, Juliana?" Andrassy steepled his fingers.  "Believe them.  Believe _all_ of them.  No greater dangers to Thrush exist in the world today than those two pestiferous men.  If they do appear on these shores, they must - I say again, MUST - be neutralized or eliminated."

"I'll see to it," Juliana promised.

"And also," Andrassy continued, handing over several more photographs.  His voice became rueful as he continued, "Certain factions in our very own organization, I am sorry to say, are not best pleased at the progress - indeed, the very idea - of Project Roboto and have expressed their determination to also try to thwart us.  Baldwin in San Francisco, for example."

"That old fogey?" Juliana sneered. "He's a has-been, who didn't even want to join the Council when it was offered to him on a golden plate after the King affair."

"Perhaps, but he has been in contact with two highly experienced agents, I am given to understand, and directed them to come here to Japan.  Agents who are, I have to inform you, known to you."

"Who are those?"

"Angelique La Chien and Serena Malipiero."

Juliana's fist slammed down on the armrest of her chair, and she leaped to her feet.  "ANGELIQUE LA CHIEN? That hoity-toity, good-for-nothing BITCH? She _dares_ to enter my territory?"  She took a deep breath, re-established control, and in a softer voice, silky with menace, said, "I just hope she falls into my hands in Japan. Then I'll teach her a lesson about who really _is_ the better woman."  Her oval brown eyes flashed with pure malevolence.

**************************************************************************
DAY ONE

NARITA AIRPORT
NEAR TOKYO, JAPAN

"Hello, darling!"

The voice - a sultry, European, totally feminine, totally familiar, and somewhat, in this context, less-than-welcome one - caused Napoleon Solo to whirl in the terminal corridor.  His hand darted, almost reflexively, under the left lapel of his jacket, seeking the security of his pistol's grip.

Several feet away, smiling broadly, stood a voluptuous, platinum-tressed woman with catlike blue eyes twinkling, fitted out in the very latest mode in traveling clothes.  Next to her stood another very familiar figure, another shapely, well-dressed and beautiful woman, this one with hair the color of a bright new penny, also smiling with just a trace of malicious mischief.

Serena.  Napoleon felt his face warm briefly as he flashed back to memories of a certain shower...

Illya, stepping up beside his partner, rescued him.  "Just what are you two doing here?" he asked in Antarctic tones.

"Business and pleasure, Illya dear," Angelique replied loftily.  She nodded to her traveling companion.  "The home office felt I might need a partner, so Serena here came along with me." She winked at the U.N.C.L.E. agents. "That way, I won't have to waste any time introducing you, n'est-ce-pas?"

"That's all very well, but what _are_ you doing here?" Napoleon pressed.

"As I said, Napoleon my love, business and pleasure.  Don't worry..." she gave Solo a cool, sidelong look, "we're not going to try to kill you. _This_ time."

"On the other hand," Serena added, "if the stars are right, who knows? You might end up joining us in...pleasure." She was looking at Illya, though, not (Napoleon was slightly surprised) at Napoleon, as she spoke.

Illya looked as if he didn't quite know how to respond to that.  (Not surprising, really, as Serena had done her level best to kill him several years ago during the business with the double of Napoleon that Thrush had tried to plant.)  Serena just continued giving him her best seductive look.

"In fact," Angelique continued, startling both agents, "our job - part of it, anyway, is to protect you."   She forestalled any questions by raising one elegant, leather-gloved hand.  "Explanations will have to wait.  I feel sure you have a great deal to do today, and so do we."

Napoleon coughed. "Well, Angelique, I hate to chat and run, but you're right, Illya and I have an appointment. Doubtless we'll be seeing each other again soon."

"Doubtless, darling," Angelique agreed.  She looped one slim arm around Napoleon's neck and drew him in close for a long, steamy kiss, one of her high-heeled feet lifting off the floor.  Illya looked mildly disgusted.  Angelique broke the kiss, and, with a little wave of her fingers, made her departure alongside Serena.  Solo and Kuryakin looked at each other.

"This affair might get more interesting than we really want," Illya mused.

**************************************************************************

SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY

"Bring Morrow in," Andrassy snapped.  Two Thrush soldiers went to do his bidding, returning in short order with an unwilling Dr. Morrow in their grasp.

"Well, my good Doctor, have you given any further consideration to our offer?"

"I have, and the answer is still no," Morrow growled.  "I can't conceive of a more infamous proposal - to put _my_ robots, designed for the service of humanity, at your disposal so you can raffle them off like so many tickets to terrorists and even use them for your own vile ends.  No, no, a thousand times no! I didn't learn the secret of building workable walking limbs from Belldandy so that you could pervert it!"

"Belldandy?" Andrassy purred.  "Ah yes...I think I've heard of her somewhere.  Where, though, escapes me at the moment.  I will have to ask my dear Juliana when she returns; she's more familiar with this city than I.  It's quite likely she may know something about this Belldandy, who may prove useful to our efforts - more useful, perhaps, than you."

"You _fiend_!" Morrow struggled futilely against the hands grasping him.  Andrassy sneered laughter.

"Sticks and stones will break my bones, Doctor...ah, but you know the rest.  Well, since you still haven't learned the value of cooperation, perhaps some more time in your comfortable cell will inculcate a better attitude.  But first, let me explain a little more to you about who we are and what we aim for."

"I know that you're a gaggle of international gangsters. That's enough for me!" Morrow said stoutly. Andrassy sniffed.

"Gangsters. How narrow-minded, and typical of the bovine mass of people.  Attend, if you would, Doctor." He signaled the soldiers holding Morrow, and they frogmarched him over to a globe by Andrassy's desk.  The Thrush executive spun the globe idly.

"Anywhere on this globe, my dear Doctor - anywhere, even, of course, right here in this fair city - there is an institution or establishment or concern - let us say, a school, a hospital, a factory, a department store, even - " he smirked at the pinioned academic - "an university department - that is, by all outward appearances, a perfectly normal establishment of its type. However, it is in reality controlled and run by our organization, for our purposes. Thrush."  Morrow could hear the capital letters falling into place.

"What does this Thrush stand for? You keep saying it, and your bullyboys all wear that silly bird emblem, but I doubt you're just a bunch of songbird fanciers."

Andrassy chortled.  "Oh, surely not, Doctor. Surely not! Since you ask so nicely, I will answer you.  We are a nation beyond nations - a supranation, if you will. We have our own armed forces, as you see - " he gestured at the uniformed men still gripping Morrow - "our own government, our own laws, our own national aims. We are the Technological Hierarchy for the Removal of Undesirables and the Subjugation of Humanity."

Morrow stared. "The Technological what?"

"To put it a bit more succinctly, Doctor, your future ruling class."  Andrassy studied his perfectly manicured fingernails.  "For, you see, that is our ultimate objective.  We may play nation off against nation, or faction against faction. We may do any number of things - subvert alliances, steal weapons of mass destruction, provoke wars, assassinate leaders, foment insurrections, manipulate markets, rig elections. But our aim remains the same, whatever we do or whomever we deal with." He looked up at Morrow, but the professor wouldn't feed him the next line. Andrassy sighed with some regret.

"We intend, Doctor, to conquer the world."

"And then do what?" Dr. Morrow spluttered.

"Establish, as I believe Mr. Stirling put it in his diverting alternate-world fantasies, the Final State.  I rather wish we had some Draka here to assist us, but one must make do with what one has to hand." He looked at his watch.  "Well, my good Doctor, it has been diverting, but I have other business to tend to now.  Take him away!" The Thrush soldiers dragged the violently struggling roboticist back out of the office.

Andrassy settled himself more comfortably in his expensive leather chair and flipped the switch on the intercom.  "Juliana, darling - you may want to conduct some surveillance on one Belldandy..."

**************************************************************************

NARITA AIRPORT TO
OUTSIDE TEMPLE TARIKI HONGAN COMPLEX
NEKOMI CITY

Angelique and Serena proceeded to the rental car counter, where they took possession of a late-model Mazda Miata (much to Angelique's pleasure; she had expected it too much to hope for a Corvette, but was quite satisfied at what she got; and, considering that the rental company was a Thrush satrapy, she felt confident that the vehicle would have certain enhancements to assist their mission).  The two Thrushwomen drove out of the airport on the access highway, following Napoleon and Illya's own car at a discreet distance.  "How is that tracer working?" Angelique asked her partner.

Serena flipped a switch on her side of the dashboard and looked at the screen thus revealed.  "Just fine.  They're about half a kilometer ahead of us right now, on the motorway to Nekomi." Angelique nodded in satisfaction.  "Good work, planting it on Napoleon," Serena added with a sidelong glance and smile.  Angelique grinned outright.  "Oh, it's easy, chérie, if you know Napoleon well enough to distract him while you're doing it!"

Before too long, the two cars were winding their way through the congested streets of Nekomi City.  Angelique nodded at one of the steep hillsides surrounding the city center.  "There it is - that's where they're going."

Serena took a look herself.  "Pretty. I wonder how old it is?"

"Old enough for Baldwin to want to preserve it, that's certain," Angelique answered, laughter in her voice.  She pointed to something else in the near distance. "That's Tokyo Disney Resort.  Ward _hates_ faux places like that, he's going to dynamite them all when we take over." She pulled off on a side street with the temple in view, got out, and took the pair of high-powered binoculars that Serena gave her.  Serena took her own binoculars and joined Angelique in scanning the temple complex.

"Do you see them yet?"

"No...yes, there they are, they're just pulling in."  Angelique pushed an earbud into her right ear.  "Let's see how good this tracer is at picking up conversation as well as movement..."

*****************************

TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY

Napoleon and Illya got out of their rental car and took a moment to admire the view from the hillside where the converted temple sat.  The city of Nekomi was spread out before them, with the gleaming waters of Tokyo Bay to the southwest.  They turned and walked to the door of the main residence, and Napoleon knocked.  The door slid open.

"Oh, please do come in!" Belldandy said with her warmest smile.  "What can I do for you, Mr...?"

"Solo, Napoleon Solo," Napoleon answered with his own smile, displaying his gold I.D.  "This is my partner Illya Kuryakin. We represent the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.  We're here to get some more information about that incident on the N.I.T. campus the other evening."  He and Illya then produced business cards and gave them to Belldandy (following longstanding Japanese business protocol).

"Yes indeed," Belldandy nodded, as she accepted the cards and glanced at them. "How perfectly awful - I hope poor Dr. Morrow is all right.  I hope you'll be able to find out more than the local U.N.C.L.E. office; they haven't had much luck so far.  Of course, they may not have asked the right people; they went over to the Motor Club offices, and Tamiya-san and Otaki-san are, hmmmmmmm, rather idiosyncratic gentlemen.  The last I heard, your local colleagues were in the middle of a karaoke contest with the Motor Club. It sounded like such fun," she said wistfully, "but I had to work late with my Keiichi-san at Whirlwind last evening."

"Uh, yes," Napoleon said uncertainly. "I understand that we're supposed to seek out a relative of yours, by the name of - Urd? Did I pronounce that right? - who witnessed at least part of the incident."

"My big sister! Of course!" Belldandy cried. "Right this way, gentlemen, please remember to take your shoes off first."  That done, the goddess led the U.N.C.L.E. agents down a hallway to a room with an ornate sign next to the door proclaiming it to be "Urd's Castle".  Belldandy knocked gently on the door.  "Urd, dear? You have visitors."

"Customers come to try my latest samples?" a sexy, sultry voice replied through the closed door.   Napoleon blinked, then smiled and straightened his tie, ignoring Illya's chilly, keep-your-mind-on-business stare.

"Actually, no. They're U.N.C.L.E. Enforcement Agents.  They're here to ask about Dr. Morrow.  I wonder if there might be a Thrush connection somewhere," Belldandy answered cheerily. Both Napoleon and Illya stared at Belldandy; they certainly hadn't said anything to her about Thrush!

"Well, they can come in.  Mind the beakers and test tubes, though," Urd's voice replied.  Belldandy slid open the door and waved Napoleon and Illya in with another bright smile.

The two agents looked around at what looked to Illya's experienced eye like one of the best-equipped chemistry labs he'd ever seen outside HQ itself or a major pharmaceutical corporation.  He thought to himself a moment later that the word "pharmaceutical" might not have come randomly to his mind, as he noticed several chemicals which he knew to be key ingredients in the latest generation of medicines - very expensive medicines, at that.  Napoleon had also noticed the same thing; with a slight frown, he leaned over to Illya and whispered, "Do you think this is legit?"

"Nothing in the briefings indicated that this Miss Urd was involved in any kind of narcotics manufacture or dealing - in fact, I don't see anything that looks suspicious", Illya replied _sotto voce_.  "Everything seems to be run here in a very professional manner."

"It'd better be," Urd added, startling both men, as she pushed up her goggles onto her forehead and pulled off her latex gloves. "Belldandy gets a little annoyed with me whenever something blows up in here, so I've had to institute stricter safety protocols lately.  Pretty soon I'm going to get almost as bad as Skuld." She rolled her eyes - quite a marvelous shade of green, Napoleon noted - then held her hand out to the two men. "I'm Urd. That would make you Solo and Kuryakin." She shook both men's hands briskly.

"Uh, yes, but we didn't introduce ourselves - " Napoleon started.

"I have good hearing," Urd answered with a wink.  "Anyway, I wasn't working on anything even remotely questionable just now, in case you were wondering.  I'm testing out some variants on antipsychotic drugs to see if I can get them to work more effectively - biochemistry and pharmacology are longstanding interests of mine." She waved at the shelves lining her room, which were crammed with jars, bottles and other containers of all descriptions and sizes.  "Whatever ails you, I've got something here that'll fix you up right as rain!"

"Or make things worse," another voice chimed in.  Urd scowled in the direction of the door at the smaller figure that now peered in past Belldandy.  

"Shouldn't you be soldering microchips or something, sprout?" she said frostily.

"Nah, just wanted to make sure you didn't corrupt any more impressionable men", the girl said cheerfully. She turned to Napoleon and Illya. "Hi, I'm Skuld!"  She took a longer second look at the agents and her jaw dropped.

"Hello," Napoleon replied with a smile, then realized that Skuld was gaping at him like a beached fish.  He said, "Uh...do I have something on my face?"

"You're _him_," the young girl whispered reverently. "You're the hero from the game!!"

Napoleon put on his best modest smile. "Uh, yes." He glared over at Illya and whispered,  "I'm going to kill you as slowly and painfully as I know how. Since Angelique's here, I'm going to ask her to help, too." The Russian agent just shrugged maddeningly.

Skuld wasn't paying attention. Her eye fastened on Illya, and she just about swooned.  "Oh WOW!!! The little blond guy! You're so COOOOOOOLLLL! Can I have your autograph?! Do you want to have ice cream with me?!!"

Napoleon smirked as a somewhat discomfited Illya suddenly found himself the target of an eager fangirl.  "I think you need to work a little harder on disguising people's features," he murmured to his partner. He took a longer look at the object Skuld was still holding.  "You're into PC modding, I take it?"

Skuld managed to tear her attention away from Illya. "Oh, this isn't really a PC job," Skuld replied. "I'm working on an improved surveillance platform for this place.  After what happened to old Morrow, we can't be too careful."

"No, that's true," Napoleon agreed. "Which reminds me..." He turned back to Urd.  "I'm given to understand you saw some of what went on when Dr. Morrow was kidnapped."

"Oh, sure," Urd nodded, as Belldandy ushered everyone into the tea room and sat them down around the low table. She proceeded to tell the U.N.C.L.E. agents what had happened while they were kibitizng on Skuld's video game, continuing:

"So then I went up to the roof and divided up into Mini-Urds..."

"Mini-what?" Illya asked.

"Mini-Urds. Here, I'll show you." Urd suddenly subdivided into five tiny copies.  Napoleon and Illya stared in blank astonishment.

"How..." Napoleon started.

"Oh, it's just a simple application of divine technology," Urd replied casually, as she reformed into her normal shape.

Napoleon and Illya stared at each other, then back at Urd, momentarily speechless.  Belldandy cleared her throat.  "Uh, Nee-san?"

"Where was I? Anyway, I split up and spread out over the N.I.T. campus, and I saw this big cloud of smoke and fire pouring out from the robotics lab.  There were, let me see, about ten or fifteen guys in gray uniforms..."

Napoleon snapped out of his shock at this news. "Gray uniforms? Did they have a white patch with a black bird on their shoulders?" he asked sharply.  Illya leaned forward slightly to hear Urd's answer.

"They sure did," Urd confirmed. Napoleon and Illya looked soberly at each other.  Thrush, all right.  The silver-haired beauty continued, "Well, then these guys were dragging old man Morrow over to a big black car.  He was putting up a fight, let me tell you.  This girl stepped out of the car, and man, she's stacked.  She looks just like Gina Lollobrigida.  Do you like Gina Lollobrigida?" Urd asked, leering at Illya.

Kuryakin, flustered, answered, "Uh, yes. Her movies, certainly."

"Urd, dear, these gentlemen are on the clock.  They do need to hear what happened," Belldandy reminded her sister gently.

Urd pouted.  "Oh, well. Well, then, Gina-lookalike talks to Morrow for a bit.  Morrow splutters, then our Gina-lookalike slaps him like that - " she snapped her fingers " - and has her soldiers, at least I think they're soldiers, throw him into the car.  Then she gets in after him and they all drive off."

"Drive off where?" Napoleon asked.

Urd looked slightly abashed.  "Well....uh.... I don't really know.  By that time, it was time for 'American Idol' and I wanted to get back to the temple, so I kinda lost track of them."

"You get 'American Idol' in Japan?" Illya asked. He rolled his eyes heavenward. "No wonder this country is in trouble."

Napoleon refused to dignify Illya's sally with a reply; besides, he was thinking.  "That 'Gina Lollobrigida lookalike' has to be Juliana Antonelli.  She's pretty much Andrassy's right-hand woman, after all."

Skuld had been listening, and spoke up.  "Give me a few hours, and I can modify Banpei-kun to track Morrow and this Antonelli. I wonder where Banpei-kun got to...?"

*************************************************

OUTSIDE TARIKI HONGAN

"Well, that nails it," Angelique commented.  "Antonelli was definitely the lead on the Morrow kidnapping. I will _so_ enjoy skinning her," she hissed.

"Mmm-hmmm," Serena commented, still scanning the temple with  her own binoculars.  "What's that?"  Angelique took another look.

"Strangest robot I ever saw.  Looks like somebody put together a couple of beach balls and dressed it up as an infantryman from the Sengoku Jidai." [1]

************************************************

Skuld stepped outside, looking around.  She saw her faithful Banpei-kun patrolling the grounds.  "Oh, Banpei! Come over here a minute!" she called.

The robot's head, a permanent little smile fixed on its metallic face, turned in its mistress' direction. *Vreee* *click* *whirr*. It trundled over toward her, then suddenly stopped as a young girl stepped out onto the porch.  Banpei-kun's head whirred metallically as it swung in her direction, and its oculars started out of its head.  It broke into a clumsy robotic trot as it began to run toward the girl.

"Oh no, not again," Skuld groaned.

The girl turned to face Banpei, and a look of annoyance crossed her pretty features.  "Why the heck don't you just LEAVE ME ALONE!" she shouted and lifted her fists.

BOOM!

*********************************************

Angelique lowered the binoculars and stared, astounded, at Serena, who was gaping back at her with an identical expression of blank astonishment.

"Did you see that? You DID see that, didn't you?"

Serena nodded slowly.  "I did.  At least, I think I did.  But isn't that only supposed to happen in giant-mecha animes?"

Angelique shook her head slowly, her platinum tresses swinging. "Little girls firing off their fists at fat robots. I mean, literally _launching their fists as if they were rockets_.   Whether you saw it too or not, Serena, I think maybe I ought to visit that optometrist after all when we report back to Central after this mission."

*************************************************

"I see you have skill at robotics, too, Miss Skuld," Illya observed as he watched Banpei pursue the robot girl.

"Sigel's a relatively new addition to the household," Skuld commented.  "She used to be one of those - what do they call them? - audio-animatronic things that you see sometimes outside stores here, greeting shoppers, but Banpei fell in love with her and I bought her from Chihiro, then did some work on her and...well, you see."  She waved vaguely.

"I do see," Napoleon remarked.  He ducked as another rocket-fist streaked by just inches over his head.  Sigel could be heard yelling something at Banpei that sounded like "leave me alone, you metallic hentai!"

*************************************************

Angelique squinted through her binoculars. "I wonder what those markings on their faces signify."

"They look something like tribal tattoos, but I haven't heard of any tribal group that uses markings quite like that, or in that particular shade of blue," Serena commented.

Angelique mm-hmm'ed, then continued, "They do seem to spend a lot of time on their hair, though. The oldest one - Urd, is it - she has hair just my color."  She chuckled.

"What are they saying now?"

"Not much of immediate interest, just polite farewells.  I think Napoleon and his dour Russian friend are going back to the Excel now. We'd best follow them." Angelique put her binoculars back in their case and trotted over to the Miata.

*************************************************

NOT FAR FROM TARIKI HONGAN

Another woman had her own pair of binoculars, and was watching the group of buildings on the wooded hillside.  She saw two men take their leave of the complex's inhabitants, climb back into their car, and start the drive back down into town.

Juliana Antonelli raised her Thrush-issue communicator to her lips.

"Get ready," she snapped. "They're moving!"

*************************************************

ON THE KEIYO TOLL ROAD BETWEEN NEKOMI AND TOKYO

"Heads up," Angelique snapped, her gloved hands tightening on the wheel.  Serena peered ahead; her lips thinned.  

"Andrassy's goons.  I make it three sedans, two or three personnel each.  They're closing on Solo and Kuryakin.  Time to get busy."  The redheaded Thrushwoman flipped another switch on the dashboard, and a targeting screen opened up as a panel full of controls extended out.  "Weapons officer's vehicle."

"Weapons officer's vehicle," Angelique confirmed.

Serena brought up the first black sedan in her targeting reticule...

******************************

"Bozhe moi!" Illya cried, glancing sharply back over his shoulder.  A fierce _boom_ rattled across the expressway as the black sedan suddenly flipped end over end, then tumbled over the restraining barrier in a welter of smoke and flame.

"I guess Angelique really did mean it when she said their mission - part of it, anyway - was to protect us," Illya said wryly, concentrating fiercely on outrunning the other two Thrush autos.  Gunfire rattled and bullets zinged by, a few smacking into the body of the car.  "There goes our deposit," Napoleon groaned.

"It's a wonder anyone still rents cars to us, after all this time," Illya agreed.  "U.N.C.L.E. probably has to pay them a _big_ surcharge."  Napoleon rolled his eyes and nodded as he slapped the extra-length magazine into his Special and screwed on the barrel extender and stock.

Sedan number two pulled alongside their car, one of the goons inside starting to lean out his window, assault rifle out and ready...

*******************************

"Activating drills," Serena said crisply.  She flipped another switch and two high-speed tungsten drills extended from the wheel hubs on the Miata's driver side.  Angelique steered the Japanese sportster over so that their car was aligned alongside the enemy faction's vehicle.  "Drop back just a tiny bit..." Serena murmured, and Angelique complied.  "Now!!"

Angelique spun the steering wheel deftly and the Miata sidled up alongside the black sedan, almost but not quite touching it....but the drills bit into the left-hand tires.  Two loud bangs, and the sedan spun out of control, crashing into a line of concrete Jersey barriers.

"Two down, one to go," noted Angelique.  "Should we leave the last one for dear Napoleon? No fair having us hog all the fun."

*******************************************

"You concentrate on the driving, Illya, I'll take care of this last one," Napoleon said, forcing open his door against the pressure of the slipstream.  Illya nodded once and hunched forward a bit over the steering wheel.

Grabbing the door frame, Napoleon leaned as far out as he dared, extended his U.N.C.L.E. Special and began firing at the Thrush vehicle.  The enemy car jinked and swerved radically as its driver tried to avoid Solo's rounds.

Napoleon gritted his teeth, held on to the frame as tightly as he could, and took careful aim.  The pistol bucked in his hand.

A cracked star appeared in the windshield directly over the driver's face, and the sedan spun out of control, then rolled over and over and smashed into a highway sign, exploding.

Napoleon pulled himself back into the passenger seat.  "Those are some people who never learned about defensive driving," he remarked to Illya.

*******************************************

Juliana saw the pillar of smoke through her binoculars and muttered savagely to herself in Italian.  Idiots!  They got too eager, and paid with their lives.  Well, such was life - and death.  She slung the binocs over her neck, then walked back to her own car, turning her head to look over her shoulder at the old temple.  Her lovely face had a considering, calculating expression.

[1] The "Sengoku Jidai" (Age of the Country at War), lasting roughly from the end of the Ashikaga Shogunate to the inception of the Tokugawa Shogunate, was a period of feudalistic quasi-anarchy not too dissimilar to the "Warring States" period in Chinese history.  During this time, Japan, though it theoretically had a central government based at Kyoto and focused on the person of the Emperor, was in reality divided among dozens of feudal lords called daimyos, who were apt to throw their legions of samurai against each other on any pretext or occasionally none.

*******************************************

ACT TWO - ""Love _what_? And what the devil is a Neon Genesis Evangel-whatsis? Oh, never mind."

DAY ONE
U.N.C.L.E. HEADQUARTERS
TOKYO, JAPAN

Upon reaching Tokyo, Napoleon and Illya decided to swing by the local U.N.C.L.E. office before proceeding to their lodgings at the plush Excel Hotel (Napoleon wondered idly just what good angel had been possessing the notoriously frugal Waverly when he had had Section Six arrange for the reservations). When they reached the local headquarters, secreted in the back of an AV (1) store in a somewhat seedy district, they went immediately to work on reviewing all the information on hand locally regarding the remarkable inhabitants of the temple compound, and (less happily) the activities of Andrassy and Antonelli and their apparatus.

Illya paused thoughtfully when he ran one newspaper story through the microfilm reader.  "Napoleon, according to this, the three ladies we spoke with this afternoon were seen in very suspicious circumstances surrounding the destruction and inexplicable reconstitution of the Makuhari Messe.(2)"

"I remember reading about that," Napoleon said, coming to look over Illya's shoulder.  His written Japanese was somewhat uncertain, but the pictures needed no translation.  "Looks like an outtake from a Godzilla movie."

"Or perhaps the Ragnarok," Illya added soberly.  He pointed to a gigantic, wolf-like creature in one photo.  "That monster was identified as Fenriss, who according to Norse mythology is one of the demonic creatures involved at the twilight of the gods."

Napoleon frowned.  "Where did it come from, and where did it go?"

"Nobody knows," Illya said, shrugging.  "Here - there are numerous reports of unexplained detonations and high-energy events at the temple compound, but somehow, nobody ever seems to be seriously injured and the buildings always seem to be repaired with incredible speed."  He looked up at his partner.  "Goddesses, alien visitors or espers? Your guess, right now, is as good as mine."

*********************************************************

THE EXCEL HOTEL
SOMEWHERE IN DOWNTOWN TOKYO, JAPAN
THAT EVENING

Napoleon was about to signal to the maître d’ to secure a table for two when he saw two other people walk into the restaurant foyer, and smoothly raised a total of four fingers.  He turned to Angelique.

"Seeing that we're all in the same place, m'dear," he said with his most charming smile, "would you and Serena care to join us? It'd save the hotel staff having to prepare two tables, at least."

Angelique made a show of thinking, then turned to Serena and raised an eyebrow.  Serena raised both eyebrows, nodded and smiled.  Angelique turned back to Solo and unleashed her most dazzling smile, her eyes gleaming under the fragile net veil of her pillbox hat.

"We'd be glad to...if Illya doesn't mind eating with a black widow spider, that is," she said lightly, looking sidelong at the blond Russian.

Illya looked levelly back at her.  "I don't mind."  He didn't elaborate, and Angelique, shrugging a tiny shrug, didn't press him. She looped her arm through Napoleon's. "Lead on, then."  Serena looked at Illya expectantly.  Illya glanced at his partner, then, with a little sigh, offered his own arm to the Thrushwoman.

As the foursome strolled into the dining room, Angelique's jovial expression suddenly hardened and the arm linked with Napoleon's turned stiff.  "Juliana," the platinum blonde hissed.  Solo blinked, briefly nonplussed, then turned in the direction Angelique was looking and saw the rather unwelcome sight of Andrassy's main squeeze/hitwoman/general factotum sitting with several other people who looked to be from Thrush's Tokyo satrapy.

"Do you want to go somewhere else?" Napoleon asked.

Angelique shook her head.  "No, we're already committed, and Juliana would really wonder if she saw us suddenly turn around and walk out.  Best thing to do is brazen this out.  Follow my lead."  The Thrushwoman ankled over to Juliana's table, her stiletto heels clicking, and smiled sweetly at the brunette Italian as a sudden silence fell over the table.

Juliana looked up at Angelique, and a slow, spiteful smile curved her face.  "Well, look what the cat dragged in.  Still dressing from the 1964 catalogue, are we, my dear?"

"The _Dior_ 1964 catalogue, darling," Angelique replied carelessly.  She looked her old rival over and tsk'ed reprovingly.  "That outfit is simply too, too Eighties - especially the pouf skirt.  Though I do approve of the gloves," she conceded, briskly straightening the tops of her own white kid over-the-elbow gloves.

Juliana's brown eyes narrowed.  "I also see you're still keeping bad company, Angelique."

"Bad company? Serena?" Angelique pretended to be shocked.  "Really now.  She's loads of fun and plays a mean hand of poker."

"I mean _Solo_ and _Kuryakin_," Juliana hissed.  "What are you doing consorting with the enemy?"

Angelique lost her smile.  Behind the netting of her face veil, her blue eyes went to slits, and she placed her gloved hands on the table, leaning over Juliana so as to make the other woman lean backward in sudden apprehension.

"Following orders," the blonde stated in a voice like slate.  "I'm on Hierarchy business here.  Are _you_?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Juliana snapped back, regaining her bravado.

Angelique's lips curved into a cruel little smile, as she leaned lightly on the back of Juliana's chair, placing a comradely hand on the other woman's back.  "Simply this, my dear; tell your principal that unless he brings his activities back into policy and complies with Council directives in all particulars, I fear that his career, if not his life, will be measured in days.  And that goes double if you harm or attempt to harm Solo and Kuryakin.  My orders specifically include their protection."

"Don't threaten me. Don't threaten _us_!" Juliana squawked.  "And get your paws off me!"

"I'm not threatening, chérie.  I'm making a statement.  A statement of policy, if you like.  And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm expected to join my party..." With a suddenly courteous nod, Angelique patted Juliana on the shoulder (Napoleon noticed that something stayed behind on Juliana's shoulder after Angelique's hand had lifted) and swayed off to where Napoleon and Illya were eyeing her in bemused fashion, while Serena, already seated, watched with a mixture of sardonic amusement and concern.  She made a little production of taking her own seat, then snuggling up demonstratively to Napoleon as she watched Juliana out of the corner of her eye.  She was mightily pleased to see the brunette's cheeks turn an interesting shade of red.

"Oh, good," Angelique said happily as the chef made his appearance and began chopping up food in a glittering whirl of knives.  "This is a Kobe beef specialty place, done Teppanyaki-style.  Have you ever had Kobe beef?"

"Actually, yes," Napoleon agreed.  "It's good.  Rice or garlic bread?"

"Rice, I think," Angelique answered.  The others concurred.  

As Napoleon watched the chef work, he grew slightly nervous.  _What if he's been planted by Andrassy and decides to add _us_ to the collation?_ he wondered.  Angelique noticed his trepidation.

Leaning over, she said confidentially, "Not to worry that we might have an 'I, The Jury' moment here. The chef's one of us."

"So is Juliana," Napoleon pointed out.  Angelique shook her head, platinum locks swinging. "No, I mean he's one of _us_.  A Baldwin man."

"Oh. Oho!" Napoleon looked at the chef, who beamed back and offered the U.N.C.L.E. enforcement agent a platter of bean sprouts.

*************************************************

Over at her table, Juliana continued to glare at the U.N.C.L.E. agents and their companions.  One of the other Thrushes ventured, "Uh, Signorina Antonelli...?"

The Italian turned her head and fixed the fellow with a basilisk stare. "Yes?"

"I have a report from our ninja section.  They're ready to go in tonight and secure the target, bring her in for interrogation."

"A _thorough_ interrogation," Juliana amended, looking happier with her world.  She smiled.  "That Belldandy looks like a goody-goody. I HATE goody-goodies."  She sliced savagely into an  unoffending chunk of beef.

*************************************************

After they had finished eating and (except for Illya) declined dessert, the four agents paid up and made ready to go.  Juliana's party was also standing up.  Angelique watched them with a curious smile on her face as she stood by the front door.  "Uh, Angelique?" Napoleon said.  Angelique raised a finger in a "wait a moment" gesture.

Juliana threw a magnificient sneer at Angelique and made a great production out of standing up...

...except that the chair came up with her, stuck to the back of her Christian Lacroix.  

Juliana blinked in surprise, then looked back over her shoulder.  One of her fellow diners sprang to her assistance and wrestled with the chair for a moment, then seemed to get it off.  Juliana nodded regally and ankled over toward the door...

...but the dress was coming unravelled at a spectacular speed behind her.  It gave way with a loud ripping noise and peeled off completely, leaving the Thrushwoman standing there in her corset and black lace underthings.  A look of quite human shock played across Juliana's features as she grabbed futilely to cover herself.

Angelique raised a slender eyebrow, then turned to Napoleon.  "I think we can leave now, Napoleon darling. I've found out one thing I've always suspected about my old friend Juliana."

"Which is?"

"She pads her brassiere."

*************************************************

LATER THAT EVENING
THE EXCEL HOTEL

Angelique and Serena were curled up on the couch in their suite, watching an episode of the _Sakura Taisen_ TV series (Angelique didn't especially care for the OVA) (2).  

"I like Sumire," commented Angelique with a little laugh. "She's my role model."   Serena giggled, then turned to her fellow Thrushwoman with an inquiring look.

"Why aren't you with Napoleon tonight? I'd think you'd be on fire to get him into bed, you haven't seen him in a couple of months."

"Anticipation makes the feast taste better, darling," Angelique chuckled. She added, "Tomorrow, though..."

"Mmmmm," Serena agreed. "I wonder just how difficult it will be to seduce Illya."

"Maybe less so than you think," commented Angelique. "He _does_ like women, after all, in spite of the rumors you might sometimes have heard."

"Oh yes," said Serena with a throaty laugh. "I wonder who could have set such nasty stories about those poor dear gentlemen going in the first place."

"Who, indeed?" asked Angelique, smiling secretly.

"But I did try to kill him, though," Serena continued, frowning.

Angelique shook her head.  "That was business, darling, not personal.  It _was_ business, wasn't it?" she asked, looking sidelong at the redhead.

Serena nodded firmly. "Of course. I've never had anything personal against him, any more than you have had against Napoleon."

"There you are, then," Angelique confirmed with a nod of her own.  She snapped her fingers.  "Sacre bleu. I almost forgot. I have to call in to Shanghai." She got up, padded over to her purse, pulled out her communicator, resumed her seat, and extracted the antennae while turning on the unit.  "La Chien to Shanghai Satrapy. Come in, please."

"Shanghai here.  We've been expecting your call, madame."

"Good. How proceeds Operation Silver?" Angelique asked briskly.

"Everything goes well. The first shipments will go out shortly."

"Very good. Keep me posted. La Chien out." Angelique turned off the communicator, then nodded at Serena, smiling broadly. Serena grinned back, then unpaused the DVD.  The two women returned to watching the adventures of the Imperial Floral Assault Group.

*************************************************

Simultaneously with these events, Napoleon and Illya were reporting the first day's events to Mr. Waverly.

"Most interesting," Waverly mused when Solo told his chief that Angelique and Serena had appeared on the scene.  "Particularly the part about Miss, er, La Chien's reaction to Miss Antonelli.  It appears that there is, as has often been the case, some significant political discord within Thrush.  This may prove helpful to our own efforts.  Did either Miss La Chien or Miss Malipiero evince any hostile intentions?"

"No, sir.  In fact, Angelique said she had been assigned to - among other things - protect us. Her exact words."

"Hmph. Remarkable.  Well, Mr. Solo, I know you will treat her and her associate with all due caution.  Remember that, friendly attitude or not, they are still two of Thrush's best and most dangerous field operatives, and that they have attempted your life and that of Mr. Kuryakin in the past."

"We'll remember that, sir.  In the meantime, we're going back to N.I.T. tomorrow morning to look over the crime scene for ourselves and see if we can talk to the local police."

"Capital.  Report back with whatever you find out." Waverly clicked off.

Illya frowned.  "I am still worried about this, Napoleon. What if they _do_ try to kill us again?"

Napoleon considered a moment.  "That's possible, but my instincts tell me that we can trust them, at least this time." He got up and paced a bit, stretching.  "I like to think I know Angelique fairly well by now.  She's a good actress, but I don't think it's possible to fake the level of hostility that she and this Juliana Antonelli exhibited tonight.  I think there's a story there somewhere.  Besides, I distinctly heard Angelique warn Juliana about something - " he paused to think, "something to the effect of 'get back in line and follow Council directives or your days are numbered.' It's possible that Stefan Andrassy and his operations could be going renegade.  That would weaken Thrush operations in Japan significantly, especially if we can get in there and smash them."

Illya leaned back on the couch.  "Well, I hate to admit it - this is the original black widow spider we're talking about, after all - but my instincts are telling me more or less the same thing as yours, Napoleon.  I'm going to keep one hand on the pesticide, though."

*************************************************

Angelique, who by luck had been checking the bug she'd planted on Napoleon's jacket, smiled as she turned the transceiver off. "Nice to know somebody trusts us," she said dryly to Serena.

*************************************************

ALSO LATE THAT NIGHT
TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
NEKOMI CITY

Several black-clad figures dropped silently out of the trees and converged on the outside wall of the temple.  Their leader gestured them to gather around, then pulled a photograph out of his backpack and silently shone a penlight on it.

The photograph was of Belldandy.

The shadowy figures nodded almost in unison, then produced grappling hooks and slung them over the walls, beginning to climb.

*************************************************

Banpei-kun trundled, in a slightly creaky fashion, around the temple grounds on his usual nightly anti-demon patrol (the demoness Marller had been up to some of her old mischievous tricks lately, and Skuld had spent several laborious hours placing lucky statues around the buildings to deter her).  Skuld had meant to oil him today, but hadn't gotten around to the chore.

The defense robot stopped and swiveled him round head in a 115-degree arc, scanning the southeast quadrant.  Something was coming over the wall.  Banpei's targeting sensors focused and revealed what appeared to be some type of ninja.

*vreeee* *click*

Compartment doors in Banpei's back retracted, and two small multiple-rocket launchers unfolded and rose to firing position.  Banpei waited patiently until the intruders were over the top of the wall and beginning their descent.  The bull's-eye on his main targeting sensor flashed red, then green in his visual pickup.

*whoooooooosh* *whooooooooosh*

A cloud of smoke enveloped the tubby robot as several missiles streaked off, then.....

*BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!* *BAM!*

The intruders, blasted by the rockets, flew in graceless fashion back over the wall, landing in an unceremonious heap atop their leader, squashing him rather painfully.

"Aggggh! Get off me, you morons!"

The ninja leader struggled free, smacking aside several of his people who were trying to help him, and focused blurrily on the main temple building.  Lights were going on and people could be seen moving. He swore.

"No good. We'll have to try something else. Withdraw!"

The ninja had faded away by the time Keiichi and the goddesses got outside, leaving only the scorch marks from the impact of Banpei's rockets as a reminder of their visit.

*************************************************

The telephone rang in the darkened room.  A light switched on.  Stefan Andrassy muttered into the phone, "Yes? What is it?...Juliana, it's for you."  He nudged the form lying next to him.  Juliana, dressed - more or less - in tiny scraps of black lace, took the handset.  "Yes? Your report?" Her face turned wrathful.  "Idiot! Why didn't you think of exploding the damned robot before you began your raid?!"  She listened.  "Excuses don't interest me.  I'll deal with you in the morning."  She reached across Andrassy and slammed the handset back in its cradle.

"Not good news, I take it," Andrassy commented in a dry tone.

Juliana was almost visibly fuming.  "Those dolts didn't plan for the security system those women have at their home - even though I very clearly briefed them on the robots they have there.  I swear, Stefan, we're really having a manpower crisis these days if the best we can do is cretins like those." She puffed out a breath, her large breasts heaving.  "Well, that's a lesson to me.  Never send somebody to do what you can do yourself.  Next time, I'll do it."

****************************************************

DAY TWO
THE NEXT MORNING
NEKOMI INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY
NEKOMI CITY

Two National Police officers, both female, were standing guard at the building housing the robotics department when Napoleon and Illya drove up in their slightly battered rental car.  They were both attractive; one of them wore her black hair long in pigtails, the other had shoulder-length brown hair.  They stood next to a subcompact Honda done up in police livery.

"Beg your pardon, gentlemen, but nobody is allowed to approach this building except N.I.T. students and faculty and law-enforcement officers," the black-haired officer said smartly, raising one white-gloved hand.

"I think we fall into that latter category," Napoleon said with a smile, producing his gold card.  "I'm Napoleon Solo, an Enforcement Agent with the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement.  This is my partner, Illya Kuryakin.  We're investigating the abduction of Dr. Morrow."  They both presented their business cards to the policewomen.

"U.N.C.L.E. agents! Oh wow, Miyuki!" enthused the brown-haired policewoman. "They've got the _coolest_ guns!"

"Now, Natsumi," smiled her companion, "they're on duty.  Though I wouldn't mind," she continued with a glance at the agents, "asking them about that car of theirs."

"Our rental car? Uh, we got in a bit of a contretemps with the opposition yesterday..." Napoleon started.

Miyuki shook her head.  "No, no, I mean that snazzy job with the gull-wings and all the add-ons. I've seen so many pictures of it in the 'zines."  She cleared her throat and resumed an official voice.  "I'm Officer Miyuki Kobayakawa and this is Officer Natsumi Tsujimoto.  We're usually assigned to the Bokuto precinct in Tokyo, but the Nekomi police are shorthanded so they asked us to come down here and help out today.  How can we help you gentlemen?"

Illya responded, "If we may, we'd like to take a look around the crime scene.  I'm sure that your people have already gone over the place, but we would like to get a look for ourselves."

"Certainly," Miyuki responded, nodding.  "Right this way." She led Napoleon and Illya into the building, Natsumi tagging along.  As they climbed the stairs, she commented, "We're taking something of a personal interest in this in the police department - several campus security officers were injured in the firefight, though fortunately nobody was killed.  The assailants used automatic weapons of a type I haven't heard of before, though Natsumi says she knows what it was."

"Standard-issue Thrush automatic rifle, 7.62 millimeter rounds," Natsumi said crisply. "They must have been using their infrareds, since the kidnapping took place at night and most of the lights inside the lab were shot out."

"You know about Thrush, Officer?" Illya inquired.

"I try to keep up with the latest terrorist threats," Natsumi replied.  "Actually, I would have expected it would be some outfit like al Qaeda or possibly even the North Koreans - they're getting kind of desperate these days, you know - who'd try to snatch the Professor.  Here we are." They stood in front of the robotics lab's door, or what used to be the door; it had been smashed to kindling.  Yellow crime-scene tape stretched in a crazy pattern across the gap.

Miyuki cut the tape away, and the U.N.C.L.E. agents entered the wrecked lab.  The large room was full of electronic and metalworking equipment of all descriptions, much of it damaged to one extent or another.  Illya went down on one knee to examine the floor, pulling out a digital camera and starting to take pictures.  "Did your CSI team take impressions of the bootprints here?" he asked.  

Miyuki nodded.  "Yes, sir, and they also tried to dust for fingerprints, but couldn't find any."

"They wouldn't," Napoleon confirmed.  "Many Thrush personnel have their fingerprints surgically removed.  We've been briefed by another witness that the abductors appeared to be from Thrush's paramilitary branch.  Did anyone here get a good look at them?"

"Let me think," Natsumi mused.  She pulled out a notebook and leafed through it. "Yes...here we are.  One of the campus cops says that there were about ten to fifteen of them, in some kind of short-sleeved gray-green uniform, possibly one-piece, with black berets and an insignia on their shoulders that looked like an angry bird in black on a white background.  That's the Thrush symbol, right?" Napoleon and Illya nodded. "Okay.  He was down with a bullet in the shoulder, so he couldn't pay as close attention to the proceedings as he might have otherwise, but he also says that there was a very attractive woman, he thinks Italian or Spanish, in civilian clothing there too.  She seemed to be in charge of the assault team."

"That would be Juliana Antonelli, of course," Illya commented to Napoleon.  "Was there a gentleman there with this Miss Antonelli? He would have been somewhere in his mid- to late forties, well dressed, Middle European - Hungarian, to be exact - in appearance, and he would have been in overall command."

Natsumi flipped a few more pages, then shook her head.  "No, Mr. Kuryakin. No such man was there, as far as any of the witnesses have reported."

Napoleon nodded. "I'd have been surprised if he'd have been.  He generally likes to stay back at his headquarters while Juliana does the dirty work, from what we know about that pair.  Now, did any of the witnesses that either of you talked to get to hear anything they said?"

Miyuki checked her own notes.  "H'mmm, yes.  Another campus cop reports that he heard this Miss - Antonelli, was it? - tell one of her troopers to take Morrow to 'the home'.  He didn't hear any amplifying detail."

"'The home'? Not just 'home', or whomever's home?" Napoleon queried. Miyuki shook her head. "Just that - 'the home'," she repeated.

Natsumi added, "We did find out that Morrow had been receiving calls at all hours of day and night in recent days before his abduction.  He was heard by several people to be yelling at whoever was on the phone, and the word 'Thrush' was definitely mentioned.  Now that I remember it, the name of this Miss Antonelli also came up, as did that of somebody named Andrassy."

"Stefan Andrassy," Napoleon confirmed.  "He's Antonelli's boss.  So Morrow was being harassed by Thrush, was he? H'mmm.  That makes sense; they were probably trying to recruit him by less, er, drastic means first.  And Morrow wasn't having any of it?"

"Not a bit," Natsumi agreed. She consulted the notebook again. "He was heard at one point to yell that he'd never work for 'a pack of worldwide gangsters'."

Illya had been wandering around the lab, continuing to take pictures, as the conversation went on.  He stopped and pointed to an object leaning against one wall.  "Napoleon, look at this."  Napoleon crossed the room and took a look.  "It looks like Skuld's robot, that Banpei-kun."

"Skuld? You mean the little girl who lives up in that old temple compound here in town with her sisters and Keiichi Morisato - " Natsumi started.

"The _famous_ racing driver Keiichi Morisato," Miyuki interjected.

"The famous racing driver Keiichi Morisato?" Natsumi finished with a grin.

"Were you able to get an autograph from him?" Miyuki asked eagerly. "He's going to be racing this weekend, you know."

"Uh, which question am I supposed to answer first?" Napoleon said with a smile.

"The one about Skuld," Natsumi said.

"No, the one about Keiichi," Miyuki contradicted.

Napoleon raised his hand, grinning. "Business before pleasure, Officers. Yes, this is probably the same Skuld. We understand she had a bit of trouble with Dr. Morrow a while back, as that gentleman was a little too zealous about finding research subjects. No, I didn't think to get an autograph from Keiichi, but if you're going to be at the race this weekend I'll see what I can do."

"Great! Thanks!" Miyuki enthused.

"I think we're about done here, Napoleon.  Most of whatever was found will be present in the CSI reports," Illya advised, putting his camera away.

"Oh, one more thing," Miyuki said quickly. "Some of Dr. Morrow's fellow researchers say he's quite the anime fan - he especially loves anything with mecha in it - and he frequents the shops in Akibahara."

"What's that?" Napoleon asked.

"It's where all the best anime and manga - comics, you might say - shops are to be found in Tokyo, and where all the otaku concentrate.  You might be able to find some more clues if you ask around there."

"That sounds like an idea. Thanks!" The two agents shook hands with the policewomen and hurried off to their car.

****************************************************

Angelique was watching through her binoculars.  Since the bug was no longer sending, she assumed that either Napoleon had found it or he simply wasn't going to wear that particular jacket again, and she didn't think it would be advisable to try planting another one, so she was resorting to the old expedient of lipreading.

"Get out your wallet, Serena," she said, ducking into the driver's seat of their Miata. "We're going to Akibahara!"

****************************************************

A BIT LATER
SOMEWHERE IN AKIBAHARA
TOKYO, JAPAN

Akibahara was full of media stores of every description - anime, manga, video, records, books - and Napoleon and Illya swiftly recognized the impossibility of trying to visit them all.  They instead concentrated on the anime stores that looked most likely to specialize in mecha series (Illya, rather more experienced than Napoleon in that field, did the job of identifying the most promising possibilities.)

Even so, they had visited a good half a dozen shops before they finally hit paydirt.  The counter clerk at the seventh shop said in good English, "Morrow? Dude that looks like a ticked-off Einstein? Yeah, I know him. He's a regular here, in fact he came in here the same day he was kidnapped."

"Was he shopping for anything in particular?" Napoleon asked.

"Let me think...Yeah, yeah.  I remember it.  He was lookin' for the series finale of _Giant Robo_."  Illya stirred a little at that, but said nothing.

Napoleon continued, "Do you remember if there was anything odd about his behavior?"

The clerk thought.  "Yeah. He was kinda nervous. Maybe it was because of the dame who was lookin' at him."

"Dame? What dame was that?"

"Really stacked babe," the clerk said with enthusiasm, describing a hourglass shape with his hands.  "Brown hair, brown eyes, looked like one of those old-time Italian movie stars...now what was the name? Cardinale? Mangani? Pampanini? Loren? No, Lollobrigida.  The doll definitely looked like Lollobrigida."

Juliana Antonelli. Napoleon and Illya nodded silently at each other, then Napoleon turned back to the clerk.  "Thanks for your help!"

As they left the store, Napoleon asked Illya, "You seemed to recognize the title of that show, Illya."

"Well, it was probably only one of those ridiculous coincidences, Napoleon, but _Giant Robo_ has to do, in part, with the adventures of members of an international security organization called the International Police who fight a worldwide criminal syndicate known as Big Fire."

Napoleon paused and stared in bemusement at his partner.  "That _is_ a strange coincidence.  I wonder..."  He took out his communicator, called the Tokyo office, and after some circuitous wanderings through the wireless maze, finally got Officer Miyuki Kobayakawa on the line.

"Hello, Officer, I apologize for disturbing you again so soon, but we wanted to check back on a piece of information we just found.  In Dr. Morrow's labs and office, did your CSI team find any _Giant Robo_ anime DVD's or tapes?"

"Hold on a bit, Mr. Solo..." Napoleon could hear the pages of Miyuki's trusty notebook riffling. "Yep. They found the series finale DVD in a drawer of his desk, looked to have been recently opened."

"Was the disc or anything else in it?" Napoleon continued.

"Now that you mention it, yes.  There was a piece of paper folded in the box, not one of the inserts that came with the DVD. It was in Morrow's handwriting, but it's so bad that the CSI people haven't been able to make head or tail of it yet."

"Let me know if and when they do.  Thanks." Napoleon signed off and closed his communicator.  He looked over at his partner. "The proverbial plot thickens."

****************************************************

EARLY THAT AFTERNOON
SOMEWHERE IN AKIBAHARA

Solo peered into the shopping bag Angelique was carrying, then peered back up at his Thrush sometimes-lover with an expression of mild incredulity.

"Cartoons?!"

"Not just cartoons, Napoleon darling," Angelique said loftily.  "Anime is, I will have you know, a serious and respected art form in Japan.  Have you never watched any of Hayao Miyazaki's films?"

"_Princess Mononoke_", Illya chimed in unexpectedly. "_Spirited Away_. _Kiki's Delivery Service_. _Laputa_."

Angelique beamed at the Russian.  "Well done, Illya! Perhaps I ought to establish a liaison with _you_ instead of this philistine here," she indicated Napoleon with a dismissive wave.  "I see you appreciate the finer things in life."

"One tries," Illya said with a little smile.  He peered into the shopping bag as well, his eyebrows rising.  "Bozhe moi.  The new season of _Ghost in the Shell_ is out _now_?! Where'd you get it!?"

"At the Toranoana shop just about two blocks down that way - " Angelique started, but didn't get to finish as a blond blur zipped past her, running pell-mell down the street.  Angelique looked after him and chuckled.  "Good luck to you, my Russian friend," she called.  "There was quite a crush.  I had to apply my stiletto heels judiciously to get to the front of the line."

Napoleon shook his head and turned to Serena.  "I don't suppose you got this - uh - _Ghost in the Shell_, too?"

"Not at all", Serena replied, shaking her copper-topped head.  "I don't really like those gloomy animes - Angelique _adores_ _Neon Genesis Evangelion_, though I've never seen the point in it myself.  I got myself a whole set of _Love Hina_ instead," she added with a big grin, flourishing her own bag.

"Love _what_? And what the devil is a Neon Genesis Evangel-whatsis? Oh, never mind," Napoleon grumped.

Angelique purred, "Don't feel so bad, my dear. You obviously have not been introduced to hentai anime."

"And what's that?" Napoleon asked, in the tone of a man who is not quite sure he wants to hear the answer.  With a little smirk, Angelique pulled out a parcel from the bottom of the bag, undid the tape, and showed the DVD's wrapped therein to Napoleon, whose eyes widened, then widened again.

"For God's sake, Angelique, put that away! We're in the middle of a public street - there might be children looking!"

"Really, darling," Angelique said archly as she dropped the discs back into the bag.  "Here in Japan, even the little children's comics - they're called manga here, by the way - have poop jokes and bare breasts. It's a different culture. Shame on you," she continued in a teasing tone. "I always thought you were a sophisticate, a man of the world."

"And there are people who actually get aroused by watching cartoon - excuse me so much, I mean _anime_ - characters having sex?" Napoleon asked dryly.

"Quite a few otaku do.  Incidentially, my love, I'd strongly advise you never to call an anime fan an otaku here in this country.  It has an extremely negative connotation here - something like 'fanboy no-life loser' is the basic sense of the word.  Even cosplayers are looked down on here, which is really quite peculiar if you stop to think about it," Angelique said disapprovingly. "I rather resent that, to tell you the truth - I won some major prizes in the hall cosplay contest at Otakon several years ago."

"Cosplayers...Wait a minute.  You actually DRESS UP as an anime character?" Napoleon asked.  (Just when you think you know someone, they go and drop this on you...)

"I assure you, Napoleon darling, if you saw one of my cosplay outfits, your tongue would be hanging out and another part of you would be..." She didn't complete the thought, just winked.  "Maybe I'll show you tonight or the next night if you ask _really_ nicely."


**********************************************

SOMEWHERE ELSE IN AKIBAHARA

Illya stepped into the Toranoana anime/manga shop, noticing the eager crowd surrounding the "new releases" section.  He pushed his way through, and after some judicious elbowing, managed to get himself a copy of the box set.  Feeling satisfied with himself (though also feeling slightly jaundiced at the thought of Napoleon needling him all evening about watching "cartoons"), the Russian scientist began to browse through the other shelves.  

His internal somebody-is-watching-me alarm went off, and he glanced around cautiously.  Nobody seemed to be paying much attention to the gaijin flipping through the Gundam section - except two beefy individuals in cheap suits and wraparound shades, who were glowering fixedly at Kuryakin.  With a twinge of disquiet, Illya recognized the edges of elaborate tattoos peeping out from under their collars and shirt cuffs.  Yakuza, possibly, he theorized, or more likely, former Yakuza recruited by Thrush.  In either case, thugs with the likely mission of taking out one Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin.

Casually, Illya wandered over to the counter and got in line with the rest of the customers waiting to pay for their purchases.  Just as casually, he glanced back over his shoulder. The thugs were doing their best to approach just as casually, but not very successfully as their efforts involved shoving aside outraged shoppers.

_Time for me to get out of here_, Illya decided.  Making a fast computation, he pulled out enough yen, plus tax, to pay for the DVD's, shoved the cash into the hand of a bemused sales clerk, swiped the barcode himself, and dashed through the store's front door, hearing the maybe-Yakuza-maybe-Thrush goons break into a run behind him.  For the next couple of blocks, Illya demonstrated a command of broken-field running that would have made any NFL running-backs coach salivate, nimbly dodging pedestrians, vehicles, lampposts, phone booths, baby strollers and even a ramen cart.

Finally, though, he was cornered by the musclemen against the metal-shuttered door of a bookstore.  He dropped his shopping bag and raised his hands, taking a karate stance and eyeing the goons carefully.  They circled him and then dove in to the attack, fists flailing.  _No real technique here_, Illya thought; they probably didn't know any martial arts beyond the basic moves.  Since he was trying to elude them rather than take them down, he didn't waste much time; he kicked one thug in the stomach, then grabbed the other goon's arm and flipped him, picked up his bag and ran like hell.

He saw Napoleon up ahead, still talking with Angelique and Serena.  "Napoleon - heads up!" he called sharply.  Solo turned around, his eyes narrowing as he saw the goons, recovered from their close encounter with Illya, chasing his partner; his hand darted under his jacket, coming out with his U.N.C.L.E. Special.  The two female Thrushes also took in what was going on.  Angelique cursed in gutter French and, dropping her shopping bag, reached into her purse for her pistol.  Serena reached out and yanked Illya sharply, thrusting the startled Russian behind her, then drew her own weapon.

The two thugs suddenly screeched to a halt, confronted by three raised, locked and cocked firearms.  "Nan ja?" (What is it?) Angelique demanded harshly in Japanese, her pistol trained squarely on the bridge of one thug's nose.  "Why are you interfering in Hierarchy business?"

"Hierarchy business?" spluttered the thug indignantly.  He - very carefully - drew his wallet and showed Angelique his Thrush ID card.  "We ARE on Thrush business!"

"Not if you're seeking to harm those two men," Angelique growled.  "Who gave you your orders?"

"Andrassy," the bruiser replied.  Napoleon and Illya, trying to follow the rapid-fire Japanese exchange, started at the unwelcome name.

"Indeed," Angelique hissed.  "MY orders come from Baldwin." The two ex-Yakuza turned pale at that name.  "And Baldwin says Solo and Kuryakin are _not_ to be harmed.  Do you understand?"  The thug being addressed remained silent.  Angelique advanced and pressed the muzzle of her pistol square between his eyes.  "Do...you...understand?"

"Hai. Wakarimisu," the thug said grudgingly.

"Good. Get out of here.  _Now_." Angelique gestured brusquely with her gun, and the goons departed at speed.  Looking around, Angelique said wryly, "I think, my friends, that we had best not be waving our service weapons in the middle of a Tokyo street." She made hers disappear and continued, "In fact, I think we had better depart before the police arrive." She retrieved her shopping bag and looked back at Napoleon and Illya. "Coming?"

"What was that about Andrassy...Stefan Andrassy, was it?" Napoleon asked suspiciously.  "What _is_ going on?"

Angelique sighed.  "Napoleon darling, I'll be glad to explain - just not out here in front, as you might say, of God and everyone. Now, are you coming or not?"

***************************************************************

UNKNOWN LOCATION

Dr. Morrow sat on the hard bunk in his cell, amusing himself with quantum equations. He hadn't done those in some times, but since he didn't have access to his tools, it was a welcome diversion under the circumstances.

He still wondered exactly why that repellent Andrassy person thought he could be of help in the latter's mad scheme.  While Morrow had made major strides in his robotics mobility work, especially with the assistance of Belldandy - he felt a renewed rush of remorse at the unfeeling way in which he'd treated that lady and her household in his overweening ambition to achieve the dream of a walking robot - his creations certainly weren't anywhere near the level at which they'd be suitable for military work, which was what Andrassy and that horrible creature Antonelli seemed to have in mind.

What _was_ Thrush? And why were they so interested in his work? Morrow drew up his knees under his chin, huddling miserably.  Everything outside the laboratory was so confusing...

***************************************************************

MEANWHILE...
TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
NEKOMI CITY

Skuld finished re-fastening the access plate in Banpei-kun's curved back and put away her Phillips screwdriver.  She got out a piece of cloth that had been torn from Dr. Morrow's lab coat during their previous misadventure (in which he had tried to kidnap both Banpei and Sigel for research purposes and had ended up getting mixed up with all three of the goddesses).

Setting it in front of her faithful robot, she ordered, "Banpei, scan."  The robot canted his round head and a wide green beam of light sprang from his "mouth"; he ran it up and down the rag several times, then whirred and clicked.  A screenful of information popped up on the PDA Skuld held.  The young goddess grinned in satisfication.

"OK, Banpei - go look for him!"

Banpei clanked out of Skuld's room, down the hall and out the front door.  When he had gotten into the yard, he paused briefly.  With more whirring and clanking, wings deployed and jet engines projected, and the robot took off with a roar, headed due east toward the Tokyo megalopolis.  Skuld barely noted his departure; she was too concentrated on taking note of the readouts that Banpei sent back as he scanned the terrain streaking by several hundred meters underneath.

Urd came out on the veranda and stood by Skuld.  "Has he found anything yet?"

"Uh-uh," Skuld shook her head, still abstracted. "He just took off, really. He's following the trail.  By the way, thanks for that idea about tracking him by his residual DNA."

"Hey, no problem," Urd waved it off. "I mean, everyone leaves that stuff around wherever they go every day.  Hairs, dandruff flakes, boogers..."

"Ewwwwwww." Skuld stuck out her tongue in disgust.

"Well, you get my point," Urd continued, unperturbed. "Dunno why nobody ever thought of it before; it just seems like the obvious thing to use when you're trying to find somebody."

Skuld nodded, but she wasn't really paying attention.  She was looking too closely at new information Banpei was sending back over the wireless link.  "Yeah! I think we found him!"

"Where?" Urd peered over Skuld's shoulder, then laughed. "I hope he likes fish."

"We'd better tell those men from U.N.C.L.E. Come on, let's find Onee-sama!" Skuld ran back into the house, followed by Urd.

***************************************************************

SEVERAL HOURS LATER
A RESTAURANT SOMEWHERE IN TOKYO, JAPAN

"So, that's pretty much the whole story - or all that I can tell you right now, anyway," Angelique finished as she took another mouthful of shrimp tempura with her chopsticks.

Napoleon and Illya looked at each other for a long moment, having what looked to Angelique like one of their wordless conversations.  Finally, Napoleon turned back to the Thrushwoman and sighed.

"I don't think I've been in a situation quite like this since that business with King. Infighting in Thrush? Baldwin wanting to protect us? Andrassy involved in some kind of cockamamie project involving militarized robots (though we knew that part already)? _You_ playing bodyguard for us?"

"It's not the first time you've worked with Thrush before, remember, darling," Angelique pointed out. "That affair of that nasty man King, that you just referred to, for example. And the matter of DAGGER some time before that.  I remember that quite clearly.  I was alerted to be ready to fly to San Francisco to join your team that time too because of my connection to you, did you know that?"

Napoleon looked mildly surprised, but not displeased.  "No, I didn't. Obviously we got that resolved before you had to get involved - but I have to say, under the circumstances, your help wouldn't have been unwelcome."

Angelique smiled and toasted him with her sake cup. "Thank you, my darling. And you see, this is a similar situation, even if the stakes aren't quite at the level of the life or death of the world this time.  Things being as they are, the last thing we need is Osama bin Laden getting his hands on an army of mecha, wouldn't you say?"

"I would," Napoleon agreed.  He continued, "By the way, just what is the deal with you and Juliana? I don't think I'd be her friend either; she's one of the most unpleasant women I've encountered in a long while, though she _is_ good-looking."

"Her good looks," Angelique stated levelly, "are about all there is to be said for her.  There isn't that much to tell, truly - we've been at cross purposes ever since we did our basic training when we first joined Thrush.  She conceived a jealousy of me even back in those early days that's only increased with time.  She's only ever really been able to advance by hitching her wagon to stars, like Stefan Andrassy, and she resents people who've achieved success and position on their own - such as yours truly," she finished, sketching a little bow where she sat.

"And then, of course, there's the divide between Andrassy and Baldwin," Illya commented.

"Precisely.  Ward's always been fairly conservative; he believes in taking everything one step at a time and making sure that everything is planned out before he makes his move.  He may have missed some opportunities that way, but his success rate is one of the highest in Thrush. Andrassy has always sneered at him for that conservatism.  He's established tactical alliances with the radicals on the Council and elsewhere in the organization, men and women who want to establish the Thrush world state _now_, no matter what the actual standpoint of events and the correlation of forces.  They don't understand or don't care that there are some things that are even bigger than our struggle with you, and that taking over the world is worthless if it lies in ruins."

"You know, I agree with that. Truce for the duration, then?" Napoleon raised his own sake cup.

Angelique beamed, and clicked her cup lightly with his.  She turned expectantly to Illya, who was sitting next to Serena.

Illya looked back at Angelique for a long moment, keeping his face perfectly unreadable, then nodded, once, and raised his own sake cup in silent salute.  Serena leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Why don't you come over and spend some time with me tonight? I think your partner and mine will be occupied tonight, and you can hardly sit in there and read your technical journals."  Illya glanced at Serena, then smiled just a little, and nodded again.

***************************************************************

After dinner, Napoleon and Illya's next stop was the CSI lab at National Police headquarters, with Angelique and Serena, who now seemed by tacit consent to be members of the team, tagging along.  They were ushered in to meet the head criminalist on the night shift.

"Yes, we did find a _Giant Robo_ DVD - the series finale, as it happens - in Morrow's office," that worthy concurred.  He went over to an evidence locker and pulled out a bulky envelope labeled MORROW in katakana, dug in it, and produced a DVD box.  "Here it is." He brought the box over to the table and opened it.  "As you see, there's a slip of paper here that's certainly not part of the commercial contents.  It appears to be in Dr. Morrow's handwriting, but it's in the Roman alphabet and very illegibly written to boot."

Illya stepped closer to the table.  "May I try?" The forensic scientist turned around the DVD box so that Illya could read the paper.  He scanned it closely, his lips twitched a little and then he murmured, "Not Roman - Cyrillic."  He looked up. "The Cyrillic alphabet, that is.  Morrow wrote this message out in English, in the Cyrillic alphabet.  Let me see..." He frowned over the hastily written characters for several moments, then said, "This message is really quite brief; apparently Dr. Morrow inserted a lot of nonsense letters into it to try to slow down anyone who might get to it before we did.  It says, more or less, "I.P.O - Big Fire has me. Go to the home. Help! M."

Angelique frowned.  "I.P.O....Big Fire...Oh!" Her blue eyes sparked with comprehension.  "He must have seen the parallel. I.P.O. - the International Police Organization - for U.N.C.L.E., and Big Fire for Thrush."

"Then it _was_ a message intended for us," Napoleon nodded.  He frowned himself.  "I still can't work out what 'the home' refers to, though..."

***************************************************************

SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY
LATER THAT EVENING

"What part of the word 'no' do you not understand, Andrassy?"

Angelique's voice, crackling with more than just static, blasted over the speaker.  Several of Stefan Andrassy's underlings winced, but the Thrush just smiled, turning down the volume on the intercom.

"My dear Angelique, I heard all about it from my men.  They had strict orders not to _harm_ Kuryakin.  Just to rough him up."

"A likely story," Angelique snapped.  "But since I don't have any definite proof to nail your hide to the wall - and since nothing happened this time - I'm going to let it go _this_ time.  But I'm warning you, Andrassy.  Tend to your knitting and let me handle Solo and Kuryakin.  That's a direct order from Baldwin - who, Council or not, is still one of the Hierarchy's most senior figures.  And if you ever expect to achieve that level of power, you WILL obey orders."

Although Angelique couldn't see him, Andrassy rose slowly and menacingly to his feet.  "And just who are you to be ordering around a Satrap in this manner?"

"A senior field officer, " came back the crisp reply from Angelique. "One with more experience in dealing with Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin than you will ever accumulate if you live to be a hundred.  And one who has the confidence of the Council - and if you don't believe it, go ahead and ask them. Be my guest.  Now, I have work to do."

"What sort of work?" Andrassy inquired suspiciously.

The smirk came through clearly in Angelique's answer.  "Why, darling, I'm going to...deal...with Napoleon Solo in the way that has proven most effective with him."  The connection clicked closed.

Andrassy glared at the silent intercom.  "Arrogant bitch!"  

Juliana, curled up on a nearby couch, shrugged.  "What else could you expect?"

"I hope your people are in position at the Excel.  They didn't make a very good showing of themselves today," Andrassy grumbled.

"Not to worry, darling," Juliana said airily.  "My team is going to get some really juicy pictures of the blonde bitch and Solo.  We may be able to use them to scare her off or even damage her position with the Council..."

"I hope so," Andrassy griped.  "We really need to get ahold of that Belldandy woman, too. Morrow is _still_ being distressingly uncooperative."

Juliana smirked.  "I think I can make Morrow a little more tractable...and I have some more ideas about how to, shall we say, invite Belldandy over..."

***************************************************************

THE EXCEL HOTEL
LATE THAT EVENING

Just as Napoleon was unlocking the door of his suite, the phone rang.  He crossed the room to answer it as Angelique swayed in just behind him.  As he picked up the phone, Angelique dropped her white mink stole on a chair and began peeling off her long gloves.

"Hello?"

"Moshi moshi. This is Belldandy here, Mr. Solo."

"Oh! Hello, Belldandy. You have good timing, I just got back from dinner. What can I do for you?"

"Actually, it's more like what I can do for you," Belldandy replied with a little laugh. "Skuld did some investigating of her own today..."

"Hold on," Napoleon said, concerned. "Skuld investigated on her own? That's potentially very dangerous.  The people we suspect of kidnapping Dr. Morrow are not people who appreciate having their business poked into - and that's putting it mildly."

"Oh, we understand that," Belldandy assured him.  "Skuld didn't go haring off on her own, not the way you're thinking.  She sent Banpei out to do some reconnaissance."

"Banpei....?" Napoleon frowned, then his face cleared.  "Oh yes, the robot.  I'm surprised Skuld was able to get him away from that robot girl long enough to do some work."

Belldandy laughed.  "Oh, Banpei's very loyal to Skuld.  Anyway, he traced Dr. Morrow via his DNA residue and we think we know where he is, or might be.  Tsukuji."

"Tsukuji?" Napoleon asked.  Angelique heard the word and chimed in.  "It's a fish market in the docklands area here - a _big_ one," she said.  "From what I know of it, there are a lot of places to hide things - so it's a logical place to keep the Doctor on ice, if you'll excuse the phrase."

Napoleon nodded.  To Belldandy, he continued, "That does sound a promising lead.  We'll look into it."

"Also, Mr. Solo, you should probably know that persons unknown attempted to raid our home last night. Banpei repelled them."  Napoleon stiffened at that.

"Raid?! Any clues as to who they were?"  Angelique could only hear Solo's side of the conversation, but she frowned.  "Andrassy," she mouthed. Napoleon looked at her and nodded once.

"I think we'd better come over tomorrow morning and talk with you and the others, especially Skuld. I want to find out more about how she was able to track Morrow."

"Wonderful!" Belldandy enthused.  "Then you can come for breakfast.  I don't like to brag, Mr. Solo, but I think I'm pretty good at fixing breakfast." ("And every other meal in the calendar!" an unidentified voice sang out in the background.)

Napoleon grinned. "My partner will particularly appreciate that.  Thanks very much. We'll be over at - say, eight in the morning?"  Belldandy agreed.  Napoleon continued. "Okay, then, we'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for calling."  He hung up and turned to Angelique.

The Thrushwoman sighed elaborately. "Eight o'clock in the morning? You keep such dreadfully early hours, Napoleon darling. Ah well, business can't be kept waiting, I suppose.  That young girl, Skuld, found Dr. Morrow?"

"Or where he might be, anyway," Napoleon confirmed.  "Looks like we'll have to go down to this Tsukuji place tomorrow. I hope you like fish."

**************************************************************

"Watch what ya're doing, ya oaf!" growled one of Andrassy's ex-Yakuza thugs in a harsh whisper as his partner clumsily set up the camcorder.

"Yeah, yeah," the other gunsel said grumpily. "I got it, I got it.  There.  Let's see how this does." He turned on the unit, and a digital picture showed up in the camera's viewfinder, showing a fine view of Solo's hotel bedroom through the mirror above his bed.

The goon chuckled nastily. "Peepin' Toms are Peepin' Toms all over the world, eh? It was a real stroke of luck, settin' up this room reservation so we could watch Solo boy play.  Didn't get any action last night, but the way he and that snooty blonde were lookin' at each other earlier, you can bet he's gettin' some tonight.  And we'll be tapin' it all, live an' direct from the Excel Hotel." He smirked and patted the camcorder.

**************************************************************
Illya turned the water to moderately "hot", producing a decent amount of steam, and began to soap himself up.  He noticed the door opening out of the corner of his eye and grasped the Special where it rested on the soap tray.  _There's something just a bit deja-vuish about this setup_, he thought.

Serena came into the bathroom, swathed in a white silk robe.  "Getting all cleaned up, Illya darling? Do you mind if I join you? I just _love_ hot showers - but then I'm sure Napoleon told you all about that," she purred.

_Now I KNOW I'm having deja vu at second hand_, Illya thought.  "Be my guest," he said wryly, "but keep your hands in sight."

With a little flourish, Serena displayed her hands, showing that she held nothing, then slipped out of the robe, also showing that she _wore_ nothing, except for a pair of high-heeled mules which she swayed over to the shower stall upon, kicking them off briskly as she opened the door.

"Do I really have to _say_ it, Illya?" she murmured as she sidled up to the Russian, reaching up for his head.

Illya deposited his gun back on the soap tray, picking up the bar of soap instead.  Blandly, he inquired, "Back first, or front?"

Serena chuckled throatily.  "However you like, darling."

*******************************

Napoleon, clad in his own white robe, stretched satisfyingly as he eyed himself in the bathroom mirror.  "God, what a day.  Who'd ever have thought Angelique was an anime fan?" he murmured to himself.

As he turned toward the half-open door to walk back into the bedroom, he froze momentarily.  A ghostly figure was slipping into his bed and pulling the covers up over its head.  A suspiciously familiar platinum-blonde head.

Napoleon paused, considered this for a moment, then grinned a dry little grin and picked up his Special.  He sauntered into the bedroom and regarded the well-curved mound under the white sheets.

"I didn't figure you to be a Bond fan either, Angelique.  His exploits aren't all that much like what _we_ do for a living," he commented.

Angelique's head popped up from under the sheets, her catlike eyes gleaming.

"Oh come, Napoleon darling, allow a girl to indulge her fantasy.  I've always wanted to re-enact this scene.  I'm even dressed for it. See?"  She stuck out one long leg, sheathed in the sheerest black silk Napoleon had ever seen, from under the sheets.

"Was that in the movie?" Napoleon asked dubiously.

"Yes, it was, but those Puritans trimmed the scene so that all you could see was a glimpse at the end of the sequence.  Lift the sheets, darling, and you'll get _much_ more than a glimpse," Angelique husked invitingly.  She ran one slim finger around the black velvet choker wrapping her delicate throat.

Napoleon observed his visitor for a moment, then smiled slowly, dropped his Special on the bedstand, and sat down on the bed.  Angelique, licking her full lips, reached out for him, the white sheets dropping gently below her chest.

*********************************

"Hot damn!  This is better than any AV!" Andrassy goon #1 crowed.

"All the time you're watching AV's," goon #2 groused.  "Don't know how you can see anything, the good stuff is all pixelized.  Stupid flippin' decency laws."

"Hey, dude, for once I can enjoy myself on the job," goon #1 shot back.  "And plastering these films all over the Net will pay that snooty blonde bitch back for making us look like mooks downtown today.  It'll learn her that _nobody_ screws with the Boss, but _nobody_.  Holy shit! Look at those hooters she's got!"  He scrambled closer to the two-way mirror to get a better shot with his camcorder.

"Hey, watch out, that mirror is loose - "

THUMP.

*********************************

Napoleon was thoroughly engrossed in being kissed and fondled by Angelique, but not so engrossed that he didn't notice something odd in the huge mirror that overhung the bed.  Angelique felt the slight change in his body, opened one eye, looked at Napoleon, saw the direction in which he was looking, and glanced back over her shoulder.

The pair dove off the bed in opposite directions a split-second before the mirror swung upwards like a windowpane, and with a despairing yell, Andrassy goon #1 tumbled through the opening, landing on the bed with a solid thump, then bouncing off to land on the floor, still gripping his camcorder.  Goon #2 grabbed futilely for his par