(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 partner....

...only to find himself facing a very annoyed Napoleon Solo.  "Don't you think this is carrying re-enactment a bit _too_ far, friend?" he asked acidly, hauling off and laying the stunned thug out with a very neat right cross.

Goon #1 started to recover his wits, but would be delayed in that project due to a good hard kick in the jaw from an infuriated Angelique, who was making certain statements in French regarding his ancestry and morals as she did so.

The bedroom door burst open and Illya and Serena, nude and dripping and armed, rushed in side by side.  They took in the scene.  Napoleon and Angelique took in the sight of their partners.

"You're dripping all over my carpet," Napoleon said practically.  He did a brief double-take, then smirked a bit.  "Enjoying ourselves in the shower again, are we, Serena?"

The redhead stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to Angelique.  "I recognize those two, they were the ones who were following us today in Akibahara.  I think we'd better question them."

"I agree, but let's secure them first," Angelique said.  Using towels and extra sheets, the two Thrush musclemen were soon trussed up like the proverbial turkeys.  Illya retrieved Napoleon's transmitter and placed a call to the Tokyo office, and was assured that somebody would be by in a few minutes to pick up the prisoners.  He looked at the others. "We'll need to take them downstairs."

Napoleon re-tied his robe and went out into the hallway, looked around, and saw no signs of any unusual activity.  He also noticed a large clothes hamper sitting in the corridor, checked it and saw that it was empty, and pulled it back into the suite.  Napoleon and Illya, grunting, lifted the two unconscious Thrushes into the hamper.  Illya looked down at himself.  "I can't go downstairs like this."

Napoleon went to the closet, rummaged a moment and tossed Illya another robe. "Here, wear this. You can tell anyone who's curious that you have a LOT of laundry to do and you couldn't find any of the staff to make pickup this time of night."

"In a hotel this swank?" Illya asked skeptically, but he dutifully donned the robe and pushed the filled hamper out the door.

While they were waiting for Illya to return, Napoleon picked up the camcorder. He looked in the viewfinder and thumbed the playback button.

"Wouldn't you know it, they didn't even get to the good part," he grumped.

Angelique, who had recovered her cool by now, sidled up to Napoleon.  Wrapping one slim arm around his upper chest, she cooed, "Well, darling, we hadn't gotten there yet ourselves.  And the bed is still intact, so..."  

Napoleon considered the situation, then smiled broadly.  He walked over to the bed, looked at the mirror for a moment, and then spun it back into place.  "I heard voyeurism was a major fetish among Japanese," he remarked, "but I thought this kind of thing was an urban legend."

Angelique chuckled as Illya re-entered the room.  He nodded to Napoleon.  "The people from the local office arrived just as I got to the garage.  Our uninvited guests are going to a new party now."

Angelique nodded in satisfaction.  "Good.  Now, Illya dear, I'll have to ask you to excuse me and Napoleon.  We'd love to chat with you some more, but we do have some unfinished business to attend to..." She raised one eyebrow suggestively.

Kuryakin blinked.  "H'm? Oh, yes. Of course."  He considered a moment. "I think we have some unfinished business of our own to tend to", he told Serena.

Serena gave him a heavy-lidded smile.  "I think so too, dear.  The water is even still hot."  Snuggling up to him, she guided him out of the bedroom and back through the door, closing it behind her.  Angelique took Napoleon's unresisting hand and pulled the CEA back toward the bed.

Just as they were lying down, and Angelique was embracing Napoleon again, the pen communicator on the nightstand next to his Special started twittering.  Napoleon groaned/growled and looked unhappily at Angelique.  She didn't seem much put out though; in fact, she smiled her most lascivious smile.

"Darling, I think you'd better answer the phone. It's not nice to keep that nice Mr. Waverly waiting." She began nuzzling his neck.  Napoleon reached over, picked up the communicator, and activated it.  "Solo here."

"Ah, Mr. Solo. I'm glad to have caught you still awake - I'm aware it's late evening in Japan.  What progress do you have to report so far?" Waverly's voice responded.

Napoleon made his report, trying not to be distracted by what Angelique was doing.  The blonde, having left off nuzzling his neck, was now working her way down his body with exquisite slowness.

"Also, sir," he finished, "we've made contact with Angelique and Serena.  We've - er - joined forces with them, so to speak."

There was a brief silence on the other end, then a loud harrumph.  "Joined forces? I trust you're being careful, Mr. Solo. These ladies are Thrush, after all, even if opposed to Andrassy's faction, and extremely dangerous - as you know only too well from first-hand experience."

"I'm well aware of that, sir. Uhhhhh."

"Mr. Solo?"

"Sorry, nothing, sir. Just scratching an itch." Napoleon mouthed "stop that" at Angelique. She giggled, shook her head, and continued.

"As I was saying, sir, I have approached the situation with proper caution.  The course of events, and Angelique's conduct, have led me to the conclusion that, again with proper caution, she can be trusted in this particular instance." Angelique nodded vigorously.  Napoleon groaned again, on a different note.

"Mr. Solo? Are you all right?"

"Eh? Oh, yes sir. I'm fine.  It's just a particularly devilish itch."

"I see." Waverly didn't sound altogether convinced.  "Well, Mr. Solo, I have confidence in you. You're the man on the spot and you know the conditions best.  Do continue to report in regularly."

"I'll do that, sir," Solo promised.

"Fine, then. Good night." *click*

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

U.N.C.L.E. HEADQUARTERS
NEW YORK, NEW YORK

Waverly replaced the microphone in its cradle and looked up at Lisa Rogers.  "Miss Rogers, did you hear what I think I heard?"

Lisa nodded, her blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, sir. It seems that Napoleon has, once again, a rather - um, intimate - definition of the term 'joined forces'."

"Humph. I really should chide him more severely, but I do remember what it was like to be his age.  And Miss La Chien is undoubtedly attractive.  One rather hopes, though, that he doesn't attempt to exercise his charms with the rather appalling Miss Antonelli..."

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

ABOUT THE SAME TIME
TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
NEKOMI CITY

Juliana pulled her long black leather gloves taut.  "This time", she growled at the ninja who accompanied her, "I'm going to show you how to do it right.  First, we destroy the temple's guardians, then we take the place by storm and take this Belldandy person with us whether she wants to go or not."  She took out her pistol. "Let's go!"

Led by Juliana, the ninjas stormed through the compound's gates, unsheathing their swords.  As expected, Banpei-kun detected the intrusion and tromped forward, his optics flashing red, whirling his ever-present staff into combat position.

Juliana smirked and raised her 9mm, pumping four rounds into the robot.  She waited confidently for the explosion.

Nothing happened.

Juliana blinked, then looked again at Banpei.  The robot stood calmly right where he'd stopped, the low whirring noise he customarily produced going right on uninterrupted.  She looked more closely, and an uneasy feeling developed in the pit of her stomach as she saw four misshapen bullets lying around the defender.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" A female voice shrilled from the veranda.  Juliana whirled.  The little girl she had seen previously being chased by Banpei was standing there, a furious look on her face.

"None of your business, young woman - or should I say, young robot?" Juliana said with a cruel little smile.  She raised her pistol and aimed it at Sigel.  "Come along now.  Surrender and submit to your new mistress, or it will go very hard with you."

Sigel growled and raised her fists.  Juliana fired a round directly into the girl's head.

Again, no explosion, no shattering of metal and plastic.  Sigel just shook her head and growled.  "That hurt."

She aimed her fist at Juliana  "ROCKET PUNCH!" she yelled. There was a loud noise.

Several minutes later, Juliana woke up.  Her jaw ached terribly and she was conscious of lying on her back; as she looked around, she noticed that she'd been blasted at least fifty meters back, clear across the road, and had fetched up against a parked truck.  She looked around and noticed that the rest of her ninja team were scattered in similar uncomfortable attitudes.  Some of them were groaning and beginning to stir.

She looked back toward the compound gate.  The inhabitants were all clustered there - including her intended target.  Belldandy looked worried; Keiichi looked suspicious; Urd and Skuld had faces that would have done well as thunderclouds; Urd was cracking her knuckles while Skuld hefted her mallet menacingly.  Sigel stood in front of them, next to Banpei, her now-reattached fists planted on her hips.

"If you know what's good for you, don't come back!" the robot girl stated.

(1) AV = "adult video", i.e., porn.  Japanese laws are somewhat idiosyncratic in what may be shown and not shown; a key feature of AV programs is that the "naughty bits" are pixelized or otherwise digitally obscured, as required by those laws.
(2) The Makuhari Messe is a huge convention center/arena in Tokyo, the site of the popular "Comiket" series of anime conventions among many other events.
(3) OVA = original video animation; the term is used mainly to refer to anime "miniseries", and differentiates these productions from regular-run anime TV series.  For instance, a five-part OVA of "Oh My Goddess!" was produced in the early 1990's, while a regular-run TV series is currently in production in Japan (it just completed its first season, with 22 half-hour episodes broadcast to date.) OVA's sometimes are very different in plot and concept from the regular anime/manga.

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

ACT THREE - "The black widow has a bite."

DAY THREE
TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY
8 A.M.

Skuld sniffed the air suspiciously when Napoleon and Illya, accompanied by Serena and Angelique, arrived for breakfast.  "Where _have_ you guys been?" she demanded.

"Uh, well," Napoleon said.  He looked at Illya rather helplessly.

"Raiding a perfume factory?" Illya offered.  Angelique started to laugh, then turned it into a cough. Serena looked innocent.

Skuld sniffed.  "Hentai", she harrumphed, then turned haughtily and strode off.

"Hentai?" Napoleon looked at Illya.

"It means 'pervert' in Japanese.  Refers both to sexually explicit animation and the people who watch it."

"Oh. Heh.  What about that, Angelique?"

The platinum blonde looked back at Napoleon coolly.  "Well, darling, I haven't called you a yaoi. Yet."

"Meaning what?"

"Gay."  Angelique looked at Napoleon with the proverbial butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth expression.

"How _do_ these rumors get started, anyway?" Napoleon muttered to Illya.

"Myself, I've always thought our favorite black widow spider had a hand in spreading them," Illya whispered back.

"Illya, you have a nasty, suspicious mind."

"Ahem." The U.N.C.L.E. agents turned to look at Angelique.  "Guilty as charged," she said, with a smile that verged on the sheepish.

"Aha! I knew it! So _you_ were the one who started those rumors!" Illya stated, simultaneously smug at being proved correct and angry at Angelique.

The blonde shrugged elegantly. "Well, my dear, you had made me angry at the time, you know.  You and your 'black widow spider'." She laughed lightly.  

Illya eyed the Thrushwoman for a moment, then turned his gaze on Napoleon. His partner stared back blandly...

...then struck a dance pose and offered his hand.

Illya stared levelly at Napoleon, then turned and stared with the same gimlet eye at Angelique, then began to smile a very evil smile.  He stood up, bowed formally to Napoleon, then swept into his partner's embrace.  The two U.N.C.L.E. agents began a very expert tango.

Angelique gawked, then just about fell over laughing.  Serena just stood there, shaking her head in total bemusement.  "Don't we have a case to crack, or something?" she remarked to nobody in particular.

"Breakfast, gentlemen!" The call floated in from Belldandy in the tea room.  Napoleon and Illya broke it up with feigned reluctance, and the four agents walked in.

"Welcome, Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin - oh, my! Hello, Miss La Chien, Miss Malipiero!  What a delightful surprise! Sit down, sit down, there's plenty for all!" Belldandy paused long enough to accept business cards  (properly decorated, naturally, with the Hierarchy's pugnacious fighting-bird symbol) from the two Thrushwomen with another smile and a word of thanks, then introduced everyone to her boyfriend Keiichi Morisato, and bustled back into the kitchen.

Angelique cocked her head.  "I could swear we hadn't met before, but she acts like she knows us perfectly well."
 
************************************

Napoleon looked grim as Belldandy told him about the successive attacks on the compound, and their sighting of Juliana the previous night.  "I wonder who she's after," he mused.

"Me, most likely," Belldandy said.  She looked slightly abashed.  "After all this time, people _do_ seem to have noticed all the odd things - odd to them, anyway - that have gone on here.  If you want to know the truth, Mr. Solo, I don't like hiding who and what I am. I think you need to know that I'm a -" Keiichi coughed, and Belldandy fell quiet, not without frowning just a little at him.

"You're a what?" Angelique pressed gently.

Keiichi stirred, but Belldandy silenced him with a look. "Keiichi-san, I know you want to protect me, but so do these people. I believe they deserve to know the truth." She turned back to the U.N.C.L.E. agents and Thrushwomen. "I'm a goddess, and so are my sisters."

That statement produced a long moment of dead silence.  Illya stopped eating - a rather considerable feat, Napoleon reflected - and looked up sharply at Belldandy.  

Angelique folded her arms. "With all due respect, Miss Belldandy, that's not the easiest thing in the world to believe."

"I know it isn't," Belldandy replied. She lifted her chin and looked startlingly defiant. "It's true, though, whether you believe it or not. I and my sisters are we whom the old Norse called the Norns. We're the sysops for Yggdrasil."

Serena frankly stared. "Norns? But that would make Urd the Crone, and she's _not_ even remotely cronish." Urd hooted with laughter at that, giving Serena a thumbs-up.

Belldandy smiled, and Napoleon felt oddly relieved. "Well, the old legends aren't always right in every little particular.  For instance, Yggdrasil isn't a tree. It's a computer - in fact, it's the computer that runs the entire universe."

All the agents assumed the same look of blank astonishment.  Finally, Illya ventured, "A computer? Like Thrush's Ultimate Computer, you mean?"

Urd said smugly, "Mr. Kuryakin, Yggradsil makes the so-called Ultimate Computer look like a worn-out PCjr."

Angelique harrumphed. "I ought to resent that; after all, I helped with the latest round of upgrades to UlComp. But I suppose I see your point, should such a machine exist." She still looked skeptical.

Skuld chimed in, "I'm in charge of debugging."

"How's that?" Serena asked the dark-haired girl.

Skuld indicated the mallet slung across her back.  "See that? That's Mjollnir, which you might remember from the old stories. These days, I use it to debug the system."

Serena looked as if she wanted to scoff, but was too polite to. "Really?"

"Really...uh oh. _There goes one now_. OUTTA MY WAY!" Skuld yelled, springing up and unslinging her mallet. She leaped clear across the table and started chasing an extraordinary creature that looked like a rabbit with six legs.  The pursuer and pursued ducked behind a bush. A loud smack resounded, and Skuld shortly reappeared, triumphantly holding up the squashed creature by its ears.

"That's a computer bug?!" Illya asked, gaping.

"One of the bugs that infects Yggdrasil, anyway.  If those things get too prevalent, that's how really weird things start happening in the world."

Illya looked at Napoleon with a wry glint in his blue eyes.  "Maybe that's how this whole affair got started."

Serena shook her copper head.  "If it weren't still so early in the morning, I'd say I needed a drink."

"Hey, I'm up for that!" Urd said with a huge grin, producing an equally huge bottle of sake.

"So how did you end up living with Keiichi?" Napoleon asked.  Belldandy launched into the fantastic tale of how a young college student named Keiichi Morisato had, while trying to call a takeout place, accidentially - or so he thought at the time - stumbled onto the Goddess Relief Office's help line and started the long chain of events.  She told him about the one wish that Keiichi had been allotted, and how he had wished "for a girl like you to stay with me forever", and how that wish had been granted in surprising fashion.  "As you see, I was - and still am - that girl."

"How come I never get to connect to numbers like that?" Napoleon said a bit wistfully when Belldandy had finished.

"Because you've been a naughty boy," Angelique and Illya said simultaneously. They blinked and looked at each other.

"Well, Mr. Solo, it's more possible that it's not your time just yet," Belldandy smiled. "Don't give up hope - these things have a way of occurring when you least expect them to."

"And so, are we supposed to fall down on our knees and worship you or something?" Serena asked, still slightly dubious.  A look of real dismay crossed Belldandy's face.

"Oh no, I wish you wouldn't do that! _Please_." She shook her head violently, her huge brown ponytail swinging.  "I'd be horribly embarrassed, and besides it just wouldn't be right."

Illya considered that for a moment, then quoted, "And I fell at his feet to worship him. And he said unto me, See thou do it not: I am thy fellowservant, and of thy brethren that have the testimony of Jesus: worship God: for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.  Revelation chapter 19, verse 10." Most of the others looked at him in surprise, but Belldandy smiled. "Yes, that's the essence of what I meant, Mr. Kuryakin."

"When did you study the Bible?" Napoleon asked Illya. The Russian raised an eyebrow as he answered, "Since I began to learn English.  Surely, Napoleon, you should know that the King James Version is one of the wellsprings of your own language?"

Before Napoleon could answer, Illya's communicator twittered.  He pulled it out and answered, "Kuryakin here." He listened to the voice on the other end for a few minutes, then answered, "All right.  Keep pumping them and let me know if you come up with anything else. Out." He turned off the pen unit, returned it to his pocket, and told Napoleon, "That was the Tokyo office.  They haven't been able to get a whole lot that was useful out of our friends from last night, except that they're in Andrassy's coterie and they were assigned to harrassment missions against us.  Apparently they were planning to try to tape you and Angelique last night for blackmail purposes."

"More against me than against Napoleon, I should think," Angelique put in. "After all, Andrassy can use every little bit of ammunition he can get against me - and Baldwin, of course - before the Council."

Illya nodded. "Well, that particular plot went awry, but it's possible that Andrassy - "

"More likely, Juliana," Angelique interrupted. "She appears to be the prime mover in this whole business, at least at the tactical level."

"Juliana, yes," Illya agreed, then continued, "as I was saying, Juliana may try direct action against us next."

"Then make sure all your weapons are loaded and your equipment is in place before we go into Tsukuji," Napoleon directed.

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

Juliana, still nursing a sore jaw, was perched in the back seat of her sedan, listening via earphones to the bug she had left behind as she and her ninja had been evicted from the temple compound the previous night.  She smiled grimly as she heard the plans the U.N.C.L.E. agents and their friends were making.

Pulling out her communicator, she tuned it, got Andrassy on the line and said, "Stefan, darling, I think we finally might have our little friends where we want them.  You should assemble a team and have them go over to..."

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

TSUKUJI FISH MARKET
SOMEWHERE IN THE TOKYO DOCKLANDS

"The largest fish market in the world," Skuld proclaimed, as she led the modified Banpei-kun and the four agents through the crowded alleyways, dodging carts piled high with fish of every description.  "If it comes from the water, and you can eat it, you can get it here."

"I read about this place in _National Geographic_," Napoleon agreed, looking around with considerable interest.  "I don't think they had much to say about the smell, though," he added, wrinkling his nose.

"I'll never be able to get the smell out of my clothes," Angelique moaned.  "Thank goodness I knew where we were going today so I didn't dress up."  "Not dressing up", Angelique-style, involved a simple but classic jacket-and-skirt ensemble, with sheer seamed nylons and classic black pumps with the stiletto heels she so favored.  She looked around herself.  "Skuld, are we getting close yet to the point where your robot picked up the trail of Dr. Morrow?"

"Just about," Skuld confirmed as she studied her PDA, linked by infrared to Banpei's onboard computer.

"Hold up a bit, Napoleon," Illya said as he veered aside, followed by Serena.  The two returned shortly with a large bowl each full of steaming, fish-scented noodles.

"We just ate breakfast, Illya," Napoleon protested.

"Perfect time for a midmorning snack," Illya answered blithely as he dug in.  Serena looked slightly dubious but also started eating gamely.

"Ooh, udon noodles?" Skuld ran off to get her own bowl. She tossed back over her shoulder, "They have the _best_ udon noodles here!"  Napoleon and Angelique looked at each other, rolling their eyes.

Shortly, though, the party was back on the trail, and things started getting interesting as soon as the faint DNA trail left by Dr. Morrow and his captors appeared on Skuld's PDA screen.

"All right," the youngest goddess said, intent on the display.  "One and a half blocks straight, left turn, five stalls, right turn, past the salmon exchange, right turn again, then immediate left turn, go past the Alaska king crab shop, up another two blocks, down the flight of steps, then into Refrigerator Storage Area Number Fifteen.  If this readout is right, Dr. Morrow should be there."

"Or at least people who know where he is," Napoleon concurred.  "Skuld, can you wait here?"

"Why?" Skuld's face began to cloud up.

"We need somebody to act as a base, if you will.  If something goes wrong, you'll need to call for help.  Here, take this." Illya handed Skuld his communicator and showed her how to open it.  "Call 'Open Channel L' to speak to the Tokyo office, or 'Open Channel D' to talk directly to our chief in New York.  You can stay behind us, but don't get too close - as I said, if things go pear-shaped, we'll need you to save the day."

Skuld's face cleared immediately. "OK, cool.  Hey, this is neat!" she cried, eagerly examining the penlike device.

"Good thinking, Illya," Napoleon murmured to his partner.

"I was serious, actually, Napoleon.  If we get into a jam, we do need somebody to stay back and yell for help," Illya whispered back.

"That's what I meant. Let's go."

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

TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
NEKOMI CITY

Urd, a troubled expression on her face, walked into the yard where Belldandy was hanging clothes out to dry.  Keiichi had gone to work at Whirlwind a couple of hours before; Belldandy (who had a part-time job there as well) would be joining him shortly, she just wanted to get the laundry done first.

"I'm worried about Skuld," Urd stated without preamble.

"Why, Nee-san?" Belldandy looked over her shoulder at her elder sister.

Urd sighed, looking slightly grim.  "Those Thrush people aren't people you want to screw around with, particularly that Andrassy item and his galpal Juliana.  I have the ugly feeling that the kid and her new friends from U.N.C.L.E. are walking into a trap."

"Don't forget Miss La Chien and Miss Malipiero. They're from Thrush, too, but they're trying to stop Andrassy," Belldandy reminded.  She looked thoughtful.  "Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin won't let Skuld come to any harm, I know, and I get the idea they're able to take care of themselves.  I shouldn't worry overmuch, Nee-san."

"Whatever you say, sis." Urd retreated to her chemistry laboratory.

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

SOMEWHERE IN TSUKUJI FISH MARKET
TOKYO, JAPAN

"Well, this is it." Napoleon looked up and down the long row of doors, each of which fronted a large cold-storage room.  He took out his communicator.  "Skuld, did the trail lead to any specific door in here?"

"Let me check."  A moment, then: "No, I'm sorry, Mr. Solo.  The trail ends pretty much where you are right now, in fact."

"I wonder..." Napoleon started looking more closely at the floor.  Illya, Angelique and Serena looked on in a brief moment's puzzlement, then joined him.

"Napoleon, exactly what should we be looking for?" Illya asked as he scanned the tiles.

"Anything that looks like it could lead to a hidden door or trapdoor.  The lines could be extremely fine."  Napoleon got down on his hands and knees and crouched downward, his nose almost touching the floor.  "Should have brought a magnifying glass."

Illya started feeling the caulking between the tiles, then stopped.  "Maybe not."  He traced a rectangular shape approximately four feet by four feet in the middle of the floor, then started looking for a hidden catch.

"Good going, Illya," Napoleon stated, relieved.  He turned back to his communicator. "Skuld, we've found what looks like a trapdoor..."

Several of the refrigerator doors abruptly crashed open, letting out blasts of cold air and heavily muscled thugs simulatenously.  All of the thugs carried long knives which Napoleon recognized as the samurai's traditional short sword, the wakizashi.  He began to draw his Special, but Angelique stopped him.  "No, wait."

The blonde Thrush agent kicked off her high heels, then grasped one in either hand, stiletto heel and toe facing outward, and did something to the soles.  Long, thin blades sprang out of heel and toe, and Angelique set herself into a classic knife-fighting position.  Serena kicked off her own shoes, but produced a more traditional knife instead.  Illya drew a wicked-looking knife of his own.  Solo looked around at his three companions and sighed.  "Never bring a gun to a knife fight."

"Not to worry, Napoleon darling," Angelique said cheerily, though her blue eyes were fixed intently on the approaching enemy.  "I'll get you a weapon."  With that, as the first thug approached and, with a fierce _kiai_, lashed out with his shortsword, Angelique ducked and rolled nimbly, then swept out one leg, knocked the thug off balance, and as he stumbled, sank one of her stiletto-heel blades deep into his leg.  The thug instantly went into convulsions, and Angelique grabbed his wakizashi and threw it to Napoleon.

"You see, Illya dear? The black widow has a bite," she tossed in a grimly amused aside to Kuryakin.  Illya nodded with a grim little smile of his own, then found himself engaged in a vicious duel with another thug, which he swiftly concluded by chopping off his opponent's hand, then slashing his throat open.

Napoleon moved to flank Angelique, and raised an eyebrow at her in passing.  "Concentrated fugu venom," she said briefly.  Napoleon nodded grimly; he was well acquainted with the deadly poison and its effects.  He ducked to avoid the swing of another goon's wakizashi, then swung upward himself and gutted the villain, springing back to avoid the geyser of blood. A few feet away, Serena was on her back, grappling with another thug who was trying to run her through the throat.  Napoleon got ready to intervene, but before he could, Serena kneed the ex-yakuza in the groin, then lashed upward and stabbed him through an eye socket.

So it went for the next few minutes, until the big room and all four of the agents were liberally covered in gore.  All of them had suffered various small razor cuts and bruises, but their opponents were in far worse shape.  As Napoleon got up from where he had just dispatched the last enemy with a blow that almost cut his head off, he looked around and grimaced in revulsion.  "Agh. It looks like where they gut fish."

Angelique looked rather disgusted herself.  "Ask me again why I prefer to shoot people." She wiped off her shoe-knives on one of the bodies, retracted the blades, then looked down at her legs. "Merde.  My stockings are ruined. "  She raised her skirt, unclipped her garters and whipped the blood-drenched nylons off, then slipped her pumps back on.  Looking around, she shook her head.  "I wonder just how they knew we were coming down here."

"I don't," Napoleon replied.  "They've almost certainly been keeping tabs on us all along.  They may have listening devices planted, so we'll have to be more careful in future about what we say and where."

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

Skuld couldn't see anything, but she certainly heard quite a lot. She decided to open Channel D.

"Uh, hello? Is Channel D open? This is Skuld calling any U.N.C.L.E. authorities," she said tentatively.

The authoritative, somewhat professorial voice of an older man replied immediately. "Channel D open.  This is Alexander Waverly, U.N.C.L.E. Section One, New York. Who is this calling, please?"

"Um - this is Skuld.  You might know, if Mr. Solo has been telling you about us. The younger sister of Belldandy and Urd. I'm helping Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin out with tracking Dr. Morrow."

"Yes, I'm aware of that, Miss Skuld. Your assistance is very much appreciated.  You sound worried, though. Is something going on?"

"Well, you could say that, Mr. Waverly." Skuld held out the communicator so the sounds of the fight could come in.

Waverly was silent for a bit.  Then he said, "I shouldn't worry overly, Miss Skuld. It sounds as if Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin, along with their colleagues from Thrush, have the situation in hand. Do please ask Mr. Solo to report in when he finishes, though."

"I'll do that, Mr. Waverly," Skuld promised.

"Capital. Thank you for calling in, Miss Skuld.." *click*

Skuld looked up to see Napoleon, Illya, Angelique and Serena coming back, and gasped at their blood-streaked appearance.  Napoleon held up his hand.

"It's all right, Skuld. None of this is ours - well, not most of it, anyway," he amended, wincing as a cut grated on itself.  He stopped the young goddess as she tried to push past him. "No, Skuld, don't," he said with quiet urgency. "It's ugly back in there.  You truly don't want to see it."

"Napoleon is right," concurred Illya quietly. The two Thrushwomen nodded in near-unison.

Skuld looked up at Napoleon and nodded.  "You guys had better come back to the temple with me, then. Belldandy can fix you up.  Oh, by the way, Mr. Waverly wants you to call him. I think he was worried about you."

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

LATER THAT DAY
TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
NEKOMI CITY

As Belldandy was tending to Angelique's cuts and bruises, she asked, "Miss Angelique, may I ask you a personal question?"

"It depends," Angelique, clad in a robe lent to her by Belldandy, replied warily.

"Why Thrush?" the goddess asked, looking directly at Angelique.  She added quickly, "I'm not here to judge you.  I'm a small-g goddess, not capital-G God.  I just would like to know, if it's not prying too much."

Angelique was silent for a long moment, then finally said, "Well.  I don't expect you to agree with me, to approve of what I say, or even, perhaps, to understand.  I just want you to listen."

Belldandy nodded. "Speak, then. Give forth," she urged.

Angelique took a deep breath.  "Personal gain is part of it, to be honest.  I _like_ fur and diamonds.  What girl wouldn't?" She smiled briefly.  "And Thrush does pay well, especially to people who perform.  But there's more to it than that."

She stood up slowly and wandered over to the window, folding her arms as she stared outside into the yard.  "My parents were French, you might have guessed - bohemian types, artists.  We lived in Sarajevo, Bosnia, when I was young."  She looked back over at Belldandy.  "Yes, I see from your face you already understand something of what I'm driving at."  She looked back out the window, her voice going flat.  "I was a teenager back then - never mind just how old - when everything went to hell.  Those idiots seceded from Yugoslavia without setting up a proper military, thinking that the United Nations and NATO would save them."  She barked a single bitter syllable of laughter.  "Ha! Four long years the so-called legitimate order fiddled while Bosnia burned.  My family, needless to say, didn't survive.  We were trapped - there were passport problems and that stupid, creaky, monstrous French bureaucracy tied us up on one excuse or another. My boyfriend, who never wanted to fight anyone, went first - he was rounded up with other Muslims and shot down like dogs in the ditch by Serbs.  Then my parents were killed in a Serb shelling attack while they were trying to get food in the local market, and I was alone.  And none of those fine gentlemen in their expensive suits and fancy titles lifted a finger to help any of us.  I can't tell you what might have happened to me, myself - a young girl alone in the wreck of Sarajevo - except that Thrush found me first."

She left the window and resumed her seat, as she continued; "Thrush gave me a new home, a new family, a new purpose to life.  They also gave me my revenge," she added quietly. "I respect the work that woman in the Netherlands does, but she's wasting her time with some of the people she's looking for; they're not there anymore."  She looked Belldandy in the eye. "I put them in their graves.  But even revenge is not all there is to it."

Belldandy looked down at her folded hands for a moment, then looked up again at Angelique.  Her own wide blue eyes weren't condemnatory or judgmental, just sad and rather perplexed.  "If not gain for yourself and not revenge - not entirely, anyway - then what?" she asked.

Angelique shrugged.  "Order.  Structure.  Security.  Can you really look around the world today and tell me that it's not dysfunctional?"  A little silence, then a harsh chuckle.  "No? I thought so.  It's not just Bosnia, you know.  The legitimate order has fallen down flat on its face over and over again, you know.  They let Osama bin Laden get away with literal murder for years until September 11th.  They turned their backs on Rwanda and East Timor. They won't put down kleptocrats and fools in Zimbabwe and Burma and North Korea out of some misguided concern about 'stability'.  Merde!" Angelique was suddenly angry. "They fold their hands and shake their heads over Thrush's 'hunger for power', when all they care about is keeping _their_ own little world safe and secure, and to hell with all the people under them!"

She continued, leaning forward.  "Freedom is a noble word, but do you think people care about it when they're starving or when somebody is machine-gunning them and all their neighbors down just because they happen to have the wrong ancestors?  Most people in my own experience could care less about whether they have the freedom to write a letter to the editor; they're more interested in a roof over their head, food on their tables and clothes on their backs, a steady job that doesn't bore them to tears, the promise of something better for their children.  For that, they need order and security.  Thrush can give them that order and security."

"But what about all the crimes that I've heard Thrush has committed?  The murders, the kidnappings, the robberies...?" Belldandy asked.

Angelique shrugged.  "A fair question, actually," she said, calmer now.  She thought a moment.  "The best answer I can think of to give you - I'm not sure if you can accept even that - is that it's a war.  People, especially the people on the tip of the spear, have to do things in war that they would never do in days of peace."

She chuckled suddenly, a little less bitter.  "I just realized something amusing. Napoleon and I understand each other better than either or us probably understands half the people at our respective headquarters.  That dour little Russian and I probably understand each other better than our superiors, come to think of it."

She looked at Belldandy, smiling now. "We're front-line soldiers, both of us. We've seen the elephant, watched the balloon go up.  We know danger and betrayal and sleepless nights more intimately than just about anyone else except someone else in our own peculiar line of work ever can.  That gives us a common language at the outset - and that, I realize now, is why I find it easier to talk to Napoleon than just about anyone else I know. He _understands_."

Belldandy nodded.  "So, what attracts you to him? Aside from what you just said, I meant."

Angelique cocked her head.  "Well, there's that.  And then there's the physical side of it.  He's damnably good-looking, he's very fit, he's great in bed..." She noticed that Belldandy was turning pink.  "I'm sorry, am I embarrassing you?" she asked with a little smile.

Belldandy shook her head vigorously. "I'm all right, don't mind me.  Please go on."

"Right, then." Angelique thought some more. "He's intelligent, well-spoken, marvelous sense of humor.  In short, he's pretty close to the perfect man for me except for one tiny little detail..."

"He's an U.N.C.L.E. Enforcement Agent", Belldandy completed.  Angelique nodded ruefully.

"Well, that's just the way these things go sometimes."

Belldandy nodded again. "It's a shame, though.  You two _do_ go so well together." She remembered something and brightened. "Oh! Your clothes should be ready by now. Let me go get them for you."  She hurried away and returned a moment later with a small stack of clothes - Angelique's skirt, jacket and blouse, completely clean and intact, no sign of the blood and gore from the fight anywhere.  Angelique looked impressed, then astonished as she pulled out a pair of perfect nylon stockings from the stack.  "But these were completely ruined!" she gasped.  She looked at Belldandy with wide eyes.

Belldandy just smiled.  "A simple application of heavenly technology, really," she said.  Angelique shook her head in wonderment and began dressing.

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

Once again, Napoleon was speaking via pen-communicator relay with Waverly, this time standing in the lovely rock garden in the middle of the temple compound.

"Andrassy is proving slippery, sir.  We got ambushed today and it's in large part thanks to Angelique and Serena that we were able to get out.  But we're still at it.  The young ladies - Belldandy, Urd and Skuld - are proving to be unexpectedly helpful."

"Perhaps not unexpectedly so, given their origins," Alexander Waverly commented.

Napoleon started.  "I - what? Begging your pardon, sir, how could you know?"

"An educated guess, Mr. Solo.  We had their identities first, then we examined their entire histories since they arrived in Nekomi.  There is, you might say, simply too much smoke for there not to be fire somewhere.  How did you deduce their true identities?"

Napoleon coughed in some embarrassment.  "Actually, sir, Belldandy came straight out and told us.  I get the impression she doesn't particularly see the matter as being any kind of a great secret."

Waverly chuckled.  "Well, Mr. Solo, according to our reports, Miss Belldandy has in fact told several people of her - er - divine nature in the past and has been met with a universal reaction; disbelief, if not outright derision.  The poor girl must feel rather frustrated sometimes, I shouldn't wonder."

"Yes, sir," Napoleon answered.  He looked up and noticed that Angelique and Belldandy were talking in one of the rooms looking out onto the yard; Angelique looked uncharacteristically grave.  He wondered what that was about for a moment as he continued, "Also, I will need to put in another expense-account voucher for clothing replacement, sir.  I'm afraid my suit got liberally splattered with blood."

Waverly sighed.  "Very well, Mr. Solo, though I do think you ought to consider finding less expensive haberdasheries.  Perhaps, in future, you might consider buying some suits at WalMart."

"WalMart?" Napoleon stared at the communicator.  Illya, who was standing by listening, put in, "Not a bad idea, actually, Napoleon. I buy my turtlenecks there.  They're quite sturdy and comfortable, and the price is acceptable."  Napoleon glanced at his partner with an "I knew it" look before returning his attention to the penlike instrument. "Well, in any case, we'll continue working at this end, sir."

"Very good. Keep me posted." Waverly cut the connection.

Napoleon slid the communicator back into his pocket, then turned back to Illya.  The Russian agent nodded to his partner, then shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and looked around.  "Peaceful."

"It sure is.  After the kind of week we're having so far, I need some peace," Napoleon said feelingly.

Illya nodded, then looked over at the open window where Angelique and Belldandy could still be seen deep in converse.  He studied the two distant figures for several moments, then asked Napoleon without turning his head; "What about Angelique?"

"H'm?"

"What attracts you to that woman, Napoleon? How is it that you keep - I don't know quite what to call it - this peculiar relationship going, as dangerous as you know her to be?"  Illya looked over at his friend.  "You will note," he said with a little smile, "that I forbore from using my usual epithet for her this time."

Napoleon breathed a chuckle.  "Thanks.  You know, though, that's a damned good question.  I don't know if I can quite put it in words.  She's beautiful, of course..."

"True enough.  Built, if I have the American phrase right, like a brick outhouse.  Whatever that means; I have never quite been able to fathom why anyone would be attracted to a woman shaped like an outhouse."

Napoleon threw back his head and laughed, relaxing. "Trust a smart Russian to see what's wrong with that hoary old phrase! Well, she's a beautiful, shapely, blue-eyed blonde.  She likes elegant dress, fast cars, good dining and good music.  She loves sex and she's, well - " he glanced over at Illya, "she's one of the best bed partners I've ever had."

"That takes care of the physical," Illya nodded.  "But then you could say much the same of any of twenty or thirty other women you've had flings with.  What _is_ it that is so different about Angelique?"

Napoleon sobered a bit, turned to consider Angelique again through the distant window as he and Illya continued their stroll through the rock garden.  "Like I said, it's hard to put into words.  The best I can think of to say is that, well, she's _simpatico_."

Illya frowned a little. "How's that?"

Napoleon waved his hands vaguely in the air as if trying to explain by gestures.  "Well, as best I can put it, she's one of the few people aside from you who really understands this life we lead," he said, unknowingly echoing Angelique's comment to Belldandy. "She's on the other side, yes, but she's the same kind of person you and I are.  Did you ever read Thomas Hardy's poem about the Boer War soldier reflecting on the enemy he'd killed?"

Illya nodded.  "Yes, I think so.  'The Man He Killed'." He quoted:

 "Yes; quaint and curious war is!
        You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat if met where any bar is,
        Or help to half-a-crown."

"Something like that," Napoleon nodded.  "There's something else too, related to that.  Angelique is something like - well, call it a mirror if you like - to me.  I look at her and I see what I might be like if I were on the other side.  It keeps me focused and it reminds me that the world has a lot of shades between pure white and pure black.  And that there are people in Thrush who aren't pure black," he added, raising an eyebrow at his partner.

"What about that spider, then?" Illya challenged.  Napoleon chuckled again.

"You know, I've often wondered if that weren't simply Angelique's idea of a practical joke." Illya snorted, but Napoleon continued, "If Angelique really ever wanted to kill me, I think she'd just haul out her pistol and plant one between my eyes.  Either that, or work up some really devious plot.  Just plopping a black widow into a boutonniere and giving it to me hardly seems to qualify as a devious plot, especially when you spotted it so quickly."

Illya looked skeptical and said nothing.  Napoleon continued, grinning now, "One might as well ask why you're hanging out with Serena when she tried to kill _you_ not all that long ago."

"Well, she explained that, more or less," Illya answered a bit uncomfortably.  "She told me it was a matter of business, not any personal animosity."

Napoleon poked his partner lightly in the ribs with his elbow.  "Given the way she's been hovering around you," he chuckled, "I'd say animosity is about the last thing she feels toward you right now.  Come on, let's see what dark and desperate plots our lady friends from Thrush are up to now."

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

When Napoleon and Illya re-entered the temple, Belldandy had dinner starting on the stove, and Urd had a suggestion.

"Kids, when I've had a hard day, I know one thing that always gets me going again."

"What's that?" Illya asked.  Skuld clapped a hand to her face and groaned.

"Karaoke!" Urd beamed.  She amended, "Well, that and drinking.  Traditional Japanese way of relaxing.  Traditional since modern times, anyway."

Illya looked skeptical, but Angelique said brightly, "That does sound interesting. I haven't been to a karaoke bar in years, and then it was only an American imitation of the real thing."

"You sing karaoke?" Napoleon murmured.

Angelique leaned close and murmured intimately, "Napoleon darling, I do a _lot_ of things you don't know about." She winked.

"Tomorrow, as well, I thought that we might go watch Keiichi race.  I know that you have an investigation to carry out, but it strikes me that there are places at the racetrack where you could hide all sorts of mechanical things - including robots.  Besides, there'll be a lot of people there, and you might find somebody who has some more information about poor Dr. Morrow," Belldandy added.

The agents looked at each other.  "You think?" Napoleon asked Angelique.

The Thrushwoman shrugged elegantly. "It can't hurt.  We do need to cover all the possibilities."  

"We'll come along, then," Napoleon told Belldandy.

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

Some time later, as the group stepped outside, the watcher stationed outside the compound's gate leaned forward, listening to the voices coming through his earbud.  He picked up his transceiver.  "Post One to Base.  The subjects are moving.  Going to Happy Seven Karaoke bar downtown."

"Roger that, Post One.  We'll have someone there to meet them," a voice crackled back.

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

HAPPY SEVEN KARAOKE BAR
SOMEWHERE IN THE DOWNTOWN AREA
NEKOMI CITY

"Number thirty-nine! The blonde will now sing!"

The emcee pointed dramatically to Angelique, who stood up (gracefully not revealing the effect of the three or four Asahi Super Dries she'd already downed) and ankled seductively over to the microphone.  She launched into a thoroughly creditable version of Prince's sensuous "Little Red Corvette".  Napoleon grinned, enjoying yet another new side of Angelique, and thinking that that was a perfectly appropriate song for her.

"Don't look too pleased, Napoleon. You're up next," Illya whispered.

Napoleon gulped audibly. "Who, me?"

"Yes, you." Illya was inexorable. Assisted by Urd, he pulled Napoleon up and escorted him to the stage as soon as Angelique had finished, to a hearty round of cheers and applause.

"But I can't sing!" Napoleon protested.

"It's not the expertise that matters here, Napoleon, it's the enthusiasm. I'll find you a suitable number." Illya huddled with the emcee for a moment, then turned back and nodded to Napoleon.  The spotlight turned full blast on the CEA.

Napoleon took a deep breath, scanned the display screen in front of him, then relaxed slightly. "Elvis? Oh well. I can do that." He struck a suitable pose and started out on "Jailhouse Rock".

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

Angelique hooted with glee and raised her beer bottle in salute to Napoleon. "You _rock_, darling! The jailhouse is straight where we're gonna send Andrassy and his crew!"

Illya leaned over.  "I thought you wanted to kill them."

"I'm speaking metaphorically, Illya dear, metaphorically." Despite the number of Asahis she'd consumed, Angelique was still speaking quite lucidly. She snapped her fingers. "Oh, by the way, darling, YOU'RE up next." She smiled wickedly at the Russian. "And I'M going to select your number."

Illya might have turned slightly paler than usual.

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

Napoleon, bad voice or not, managed to get through his assigned number without significant mishap, and exited the stage to more-than-polite applause.  He plunked himself down, grabbed hold of his Kirin Lager, and glowered at Illya. "Okay, smart Russian, you got me into this. What's next?"

Illya looked wryly back at his partner. "I am." He downed the last of his vodka, stood up and strolled over to the stage.  Napoleon saw that Angelique was deep in conversation with the emcee, flipping through a large book of CD's.

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

Illya gaped at Angelique. "I'm supposed to sing _that_?!"

Angelique smirked at the U.N.C.L.E. agent. "It's payback time for every time you ever called me a 'black widow', darling," she said with more than a bit of malicious relish.  She swayed back to where Napoleon and the others were sitting, and took her own seat, snuggling up to Solo.

Illya read the English translation of the lyrics on the screen, then sighed.  He would just have to do his best, for the honor of the Command.  He took a deep breath and began.

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

Napoleon blinked.  "What _is_ Illya singing?"

Angelique was beating time. Without breaking rhythm or unlooping her arm from around Napoleon, she replied, "The end theme from one of my favorite OVA's.  The English title is "Congratulations", more or less. It's about a young lady who sees a wedding going on at a resort and wishes she could be married to her own lover." (1)

Napoleon considered that for a moment, then broke up laughing.  Angelique joined him in a fit of helpless giggles, tears of mirth pouring down her face.

Napoleon was finally able to choke out, "Karaoke. Robots. _Goddesses_. I don't think I've been involved in a mission this peculiar since that affair with Mr. Hemmingway."

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

The hostess smiled professionally as she brought another round of drinks, covertly eyeing the convivial group of people.  Her attention was particularly fixed on the shapely blonde who was clinging to a good-looking, dark-haired man, both of them convulsed in laughter.  She deposited the last bottle and headed back to the bar, where she informed the bartender that she was going to take a break.

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

Serena got up from the table, not at all unsteadily; Napoleon was impressed at her drinking capacity.  "Little girls' room, to use the American phrase.  Coming, Angelique?"

"Surely," Angelique agreed, standing up herself.  She made a little production out of smirking at the U.N.C.L.E. agents.  "Off we go to discuss deep and nefarious plots against the structure of world order..."

"...or, alternately, to gossip about us," Illya finished for her.

Angelique planted her fists on her hips.  "You guessed!" she said grumpily.  Serena chuckled and pulled at her arm. "Let's go and discuss dark, nefarious things about what we're going to do to them in bed tonight," she told her colleague, and they departed.

Urd waved a finger at Napoleon and Illya. "It's not a Thrush thing, boys, it's a woman thing.  You wouldn't understand."  Just then, her number was called, and she weaved off toward the stage again.

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

Angelique and Serena entered the women's room, still chortling.  Serena headed for one of the stalls and closed the door, while Angelique parked herself in front of the mirror to freshen her makeup.  She frowned at her reflection in the mirror, brought out her mascara, and carefully started touching up her long eyelashes.

The door opened and the hostess came in.  She bowed to Angelique, smiling, then took a place on her right, at the adjoining sink, and made as if to check her own makeup.  Her right hand, though, slipped into a secret pocket in her skirt and came out clutching an object that looked like a large, garish souvenir pen.  She began to turn toward Angelique, raising the pen...

...just as Serena came out of the stall.  Angelique turned to greet her fellow Thrushwoman and saw the object in the hostess' hand, springing back a full three feet and pulling her pistol out of her purse in one smooth movement.  The hostess began to coil for a leap at Angelique, but Serena was there first, grabbing the other's hands and forcing them above her head.  There was a brief struggle, and the point of the pen ended up being jammed into the juncture between the hostess' neck and shoulder.  A loud crackle, and the woman's body jerked, shuddered spasmodically and went limp.

Angelique advanced cautiously, pistol still trained on the dead woman.  She looked at the weapon.  "A brain homogenizer, I see."

Serena shook her head.  "I thought those things had been taken out of front-line service, too dangerous to the user as well as the victim.  Obviously this was another of Andrassy's merry men - and women, too," she amended.

"Flattering to know I'm considered dangerous enough to assassinate," Angelique commented with a twisted little smile.  "Come on, let's hide her," she urged, picking up the assassin's legs.  Serena lifted the body under the armpits, and the two agents maneuvered the corpse into a stall, curling it up and balancing it carefully on a toilet seat.  Angelique fished in her purse for a piece of paper, pulled out a pen (a real one) and scrawled "OUT OF ORDER" in Japanese on it, then stuck it on the stall door.

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

When the two women returned to the table, they were shooting conspiratorial glances at each other.  Illya nudged Napoleon. "See, what did I tell you? They were gossiping about us."

"Wouldn't you like to know," Angelique returned archly as she sat down.

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

DAY FOUR

A RACE TRACK
SOMEWHERE NEAR NEKOMI CITY

"I DON'T SEE ANY ROBOTS HERE!" Napoleon yelled over the roar of racecar engines.

"WHY WOULD YOU EXPECT TO?" Angelique shouted back.  "THEY'RE HIDDEN!"

"Ask a stupid question..." Napoleon muttered.  He adjusted his earphones, checked the throat mike, and spoke in a more normal tone.  "Actually, I thought what we were looking for was not so much Morrow's robots as Morrow himself."

"True, true," Angelique concurred.  She scanned the crowd.  "Since Morrow wasn't in Tsukuji, Andrassy probably had his merry men bring him here.  This is a major event on the Japanese Formula One circuit; who would think to look for one scruffy scientist in the middle of this crush? Particularly with all those race queens around...and Napoleon, darling, keep your eyes to yourself!" she finished with a slightly sharp edge to her voice as she noticed Solo ogling a couple of the scantily clad, parasol-toting young lovelies.  Napoleon turned to her with a wide grin.

"Jealousy, Angelique? My, my. It doesn't become you."

Angelique sniffed. "Not jealousy, darling, though I doubt any of those pretties could solve a quadratic equation if they were stood in front of a firing squad.  Professionalism. We _do_ have a job to do, after all."

"Point taken - though surely we can take a little time to watch Keiichi race his race.  After all, he's quite the comer in the racing dodge here.  I wonder if he's ever considered trying NASCAR?"

Angelique shrugged.  "Oh, very well. (_Actually_, she added to herself, _I really want to see how young Morisato does with that rather peculiar vehicle the Motor Club built for him - but it wouldn't do for my reputation as a femme fatale to admit it_.) However you like, darling." She perched elegantly on a retaining wall, affecting ladylike disinterest while her blue eyes took in every detail of the proceedings.

Napoleon continued turning his head from side to side.  Suddenly, he did a reasonably good imitation of a pointer.  "Well, now, look at that," he said softly.

Angelique started.  "Where?" (_Merde! I missed that! I REALLY need to pay that damned optometrist a visit.  Thank God Thrush changed its insurance provider last year..._)

"Over there." Napoleon pointed. Angelique looked, and scowled.

"Andrassy and that arrant, nickel-plated bitch Juliana.  How much abuse can one woman take?"

"Nickel-plated?" Napoleon recorded that mentally for possible future use, then returned to concentrating on the Thrush chieftain and his paramour.  "Interesting.  They seem to be making bets with other patrons.  Is gambling on auto races legal in Japan?"

"Not to my knowledge, darling, though that never stopped the punters," Angelique answered.  "By the way, my dear, did you ever play pachinko? It's rather like pinball, and Japanese men waste scandalous amounts of yen every year on it.  Several of our satrapies own some very nice parlors around the country.  If you have a few extra thousand yen that aren't doing anything, I could take you to one sometime," she commented with an inviting look.

Napoleon chuckled.  "I know about pachinko.  Too difficult for me, I'm afraid."  He glanced over to the track.  "Ah! They're getting ready. I see Keiichi's got the pole position."

"Mmmm, " Angelique said.  She was drinking something, then offered the bottle to Napoleon. "Want to try some?"

Napoleon looked at the bottle with a dubious expression.  The label said in bright, cheery blue letters, "Calpis".  Angelique chuckled.

"No, it's not what it sounds like. It's a yogurt-flavored soda.  Very popular here. They also sell bottled water."

Napoleon took a sip, then returned the bottle to Angelique. "If you don't mind, I think I'll stick with yogurt from the freezer."

"You think that's an odd name? Try Pocari Sweat," Angelique grinned.  She amplified, "It's a sports drink, rather like Gatorade.  I imagine it's popular with all these manly, athletic types here."

***************************************************************
A few meters away, Illya was standing with some other members of the N.I.T. Motor Club, watching the drivers prepare at the start line.  Serena was sitting nearby, legs prettily crossed, on a crate full of spare tires.

Illya eyed Keiichi's vehicle dubiously; it was unquestionably a Formula One vehicle, but it didn't look quite like any other Formula One car he had ever seen - doubtless because it had been built by the inspired amateurs of the Motor Club.  "Will that new hydrogen engine really work?" he asked Tamiya, one of the club's senior members.

The huge fellow beamed down at the comparatively diminutive Russian.  "Yuh bet! Us guys, we got duh kit outta a magazine ad.  Cost us half duh year's budget, too, but it wuz worth it," he added in a confidential tone.  

"Magazine ad?"

"Sure! I got it right here!" Tamiya produced a Japanese-language auto magazine.  Illya flipped from the back to the front until he found the classified ads section.  He stared at the ad.  "The Tremendous Hurricane Racing and Ultimate Supreme Hotrod Company?"

Serena heard that, hopped down from the crate and came over.  Looking at the ad, she nodded.  "Oh yes. I recognize it - that's one of our companies.  So you're patronizing our fine line of products, are you, sir?" She grinned up at Tamiya. "Good on you. I hope it works."  Illya just shook his head - he was finally starting to get used to surrealistic events happening on this mission - and turned back to watch the track.

The starter waved his green flag, and with a tremendous roar, the cars were off and running down the straightaway.

"YEAH! KEIICHI! GO!!!!" Tamiya bellowed, and broke into one of the most peculiar dances Illya or Serena had ever seen.

"Uh...what's that?" Serena ventured, after a moment.

"Muh lucky cheerleader victory dance!", Tamiya crowed, hopping about eccentrically.

"Uh...yes," Serena replied, sidling away from this lunatic as discreetly as she could, only to be confronted by a grinning Otaki (another of the senior Club members) holding a large, rather ugly statue.

"And I brought my number-one lucky idol with me, too!" grinned the punkish, leather-clad, metal-festooned Otaki from behind his shades, metal objects sticking out from everywhere.  Serena just stared, unable to completely absorb the sight.

Illya gawked himself, but recovered sooner, and gently nudged Serena away with what he hoped was a politely cordial nod to Otaki.

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

As soon as she had a chance, Angelique excused herself, then stepped to a quiet spot under the bleachers, took out her communicator, and checked in with Thrush's Shanghai satrapy again.

"How goes it?" she asked succinctly.

"No problems," came the reply.  "The shipments are moving now."

"Good," she said. "Let me know if you do have a problem."

"Will do.  Do you need a flying squad to take care of your own problem? We know the Tokyo Satrapy's not altogether reliable, and we can spare some men."

"Thanks for the offer, but I think we can manage here with current resources. I'll keep it in mind, though." Angelique closed the link, smiled to herself, and went to rejoin Napoleon.

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

After sixty laps, Keiichi was in fourth place and gaining on third place, and the Motor Club was going not-so-quietly berserk.  Tamiya was stumping about and yelling orders, and everyone was scrambling about getting things ready for the next pit stop.  Illya stood out of the way with Serena and watched the goings-on, until he saw something that made his eyes narrow.

Andrassy was talking to one of the mechanics for another team.  Something exchanged hands, and the mechanic sidled over to where the fuel drums for Keiichi's car were stored.  Illya followed him, and as the mechanic opened one of the barrels and prepared to pour something in, the Russian tapped the other man's shoulder.

"Pouring a little sugar in the tanks, are we, friend?" he inquired in a silky tone.  "You _do_ know that's not a gasoline engine, right?"

Otaki, another of the Motor Club's seniors, was passing by at that moment.  Illya waved to him.  "Got somebody here," he said, holding the unlucky saboteur by the scruff of his collar, "trying to change the odds on the race a little bit."

"Yeah?!" Otaki scowled - an impressive effect, since he was almost as big as his friend Tamiya, possessed of a spiky blond punk haircut, mirror-lensed shades and lots of metal accoutrements - and grabbed the mechanic by the _front_ of his collar; Illya quickly let go his own hold. "You're comin' with me, bub. HEY! GUYS! WE GOT A SABOTEUR! PROBABLY ONE OF AOSHIMA'S FOUR WHEELS CLUB JERKS!"

In the hubbub this announcement caused, Juliana Antonelli slipped unnoticed by, heading toward the restrooms.

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

Keiichi ended up winning the race, unaware of Andrassy's abortive sabotage attempt, and general celebration ensued in the Motor Club pit.  Napoleon presented the ecstatic policewomen Miyuki and Natsumi to the victor to get his autograph, then excused himself after a few minutes to make a run to the men's room.

Napoleon considered the progress of the mission so far as he stood at the urinal.  Just _where_ was Morrow?

Just as he was starting to zip up, he felt a familiar cold pressure at the base of his neck.  "Finish doing yourself back up, Mr. Solo, and then place your hands where I can see them," a feminine, Italian-accented voice said coldly.

"You _do_ know it's against the law for women to enter the men's rest room, don't you?" Napoleon asked as he slowly turned around, raising his hands.

"Very funny, Mr. Solo," Juliana said with a little smirk, though her brown eyes were ice chips.  She gestured with her pistol.  "Move - slowly."  Solo moved, and several men in the hatefully familiar gray uniforms of Thrush's military branch came out of the stalls, their assault rifles trained on him.  Napoleon considered this and raised an eyebrow at his captor.  "It's not really standard procedure for Thrush to show its colors, as it were, so openly these days, you know," he said mildly.

"The situation justifies it," Juliana replied coolly.  She jerked her pistol.  "_That_ way." Napoleon went _that_ way, surrounded by the Thrush soldiers.  One of them reached under his jacket and relieved him of his Special, handing it to Juliana.  She examined the modified Walther and smirked again.  "A pretty toy," she said mockingly, sticking it in her waistband.  "So typical, making a gun that fires _sleep darts_. Keep moving."  She walked ahead of the rest of the group and tapped several wall tiles in a complex pattern.  Part of the wall slid up, opening a door to the rear of the building.  "A little something a previous Satrap had installed.  It's _so_ useful to snatch people out of lavatories; there's only one regular door, and the silly police drive themselves crazy wondering what happened."

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

Angelique tapped her high-heeled foot.  Napoleon had been in the lavatory an awfully long time.  With an exasperated sigh, she finally decided to go inside; a little smile played across her face at the possibility of maybe literally catching Napoleon with his pants down.

She opened the door, then looked around in perplexity.  No Napoleon.  All the doors to the stalls were open, and there was nobody in them, and nobody standing at the urinals either.  A noise made her turn her head, and she saw a sliding door retracting back into place at the far end of the room.

"Tabernac!" Angelique swore - a Quebecois profanity she'd learned from Napoleon.  She drew her pistol and ran toward the door, reaching it just as it shut again.  Slamming a fist into the tile, she cursed again, then spun and ran back out, then around the side of the building.  Not at all to her surprise, but much to her displeasure, she saw Juliana Antonelli, along with several of her soldiers, bundling Napoleon into the back of an anonymous white van.

"Hold it right there!" Angelique shouted, bringing her weapon into firing position.  Juliana spun and snarled, "Puttana!", then threw something at Angelique. Napoleon tried to break free, but was coldcocked by one of the Thrush soldiers and shoved uncermeniously into the van.

Angelique fired, but the first shot was a little off and slapped into the van body instead of one of her enemies.  She took aim, but before she could shoot again, the object Juliana had thrown landed several feet in front of her and exploded, releasing a cloud of noxious white smoke that completely enveloped her and blocked the van from her view.

Coughing, covering her nose and mouth, Angelique fought her way through the smoke cloud, only to hear an engine gunning.  The van tore out of the alleyway, one of the Thrush soldiers leaning out of the side door and taking a couple of potshots at Angelique.  She ducked behind a dumpster and fired back, but didn't see that she'd hit anything.  As the van disappeared, she swore again, then turned and ran to find the others.

As luck would have it, she ran right into Illya.  Steadying the Russian with a murmured apology, she turned to the others.  "We've got bad trouble, everyone.  Napoleon's been captured."

"Who by?" Illya rapped out.

"Juliana. I saw her - tried to stop her, but she was moving too fast," Angelique replied.

"All right.  I'll try to find Serena and go after Napoleon. You and the rest follow!" Illya sprinted off.

"Hey - wait a minute! Steady on!" Angelique cried, but Kuryakin was already too far off.  She growled to herself, then turned to Keiichi and the goddesses, who were staring at her with a mixture of bewildered apprehension and uneasy comprehension. "I think things just went down, shall we say, the toilet."

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

Illya raced down the alleyway, hoping to find a vehicle to give chase on his own, or at least to find a place to cut off the enemy. He hadn't been able to find Serena, and hadn't had the time either.

Without warning, a large cardboard box dropped down on him, knocking him to the ground.  He started to struggle free from it, but was set upon by several people he couldn't see through the confining cardboard.  

"OW! Chort vozmi! Get off me! Gavno!" Illya kicked and punched as best he could, but being in a box, was at a considerable disadvantage.  In a few minutes, somewhat bruised and considerably disheveled, and minus his gun, the Russian was hauled to his feet by several Andrassy goons.  The man himself stood in front of Kuryakin, enjoying the agent's discomfiture.

"What have you done to Napoleon?" growled Illya.

"Why, Mr. Kuryakin, simply invited him to visit us.  In fact, we desired your company so much too, we're extending you the same invitation.  Doesn't that make you feel good?" the Thrushman replied with a suave, rather smarmy smile. He nodded sharply to his underlings, who jerked Illya along, manhandling him into a Lexus sedan.  Andrassy climbed in after him, and off they went.

(1) "Congratulations!" is the end-theme music from the OVA of "Oh My Goddess!"

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

ACT FOUR - "You guys really _are_ goddesses."

THE RACETRACK
OUTSIDE NEKOMI CITY

Angelique's lips were compressed into a dangerous, thin line.  "Damn. Damn! _DAMN!_ I should have expected this."

Serena, who had rejoined the group just in time to hear what had happened, was just as angry, but her face suddenly brightened. "We're not out of options yet.  Skuld - " she turned to the youngest goddess - "can you track Napoleon and Illya?"

"Sure can. I won't even need to get DNA samples or anything, I'll just have Banpei scan where the vehicles were, and away we go." She was as good as her word, and in a few minutes reported, "They're heading toward the water and power plant - the utility plant - on campus."

Angelique looked at Belldandy. "We need to get down there, fast."

"I know it." Belldandy produced, rather to Angelique's bemusement, a broom. "Hop on." Urd had her own broom, and waved Serena over. As Angelique climbed on behind Belldandy, she murmured, "If Illya could see this, he'd probably consider all his suspicions about me confirmed..."

Skuld, meanwhile, ordered Banpei to transform into a motor scooter, while Keiichi ran back to his own antique BMW motorcycle.

"OK, let's go!" Angelique told Belldandy.  The brown-haired goddess nodded, her face uncharacteristically grim, and lifted off. Urd and Serena were right behind her.

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

THE CAMPUS UTILITIES PLANT
NEKOMI INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY
NEKOMI CITY

"So we meet again, Solo", Stefan Andrassy said in sinister tones.  Juliana lounged insolently against a control panel, gloved arms folded and watching the scene with a sardonic little grin.

"Andrassy, you come off sounding like a character from some corny film noir, did you know that? Like a whole lot of other Thrush bigwigs I've encountered." Napoleon asked crossly (his temper possibly not helped by the fact that he was dangling by a pair of handcuffs from a water pipe about ten feet off the ground.  'Haven't I had this dance before?' he grumbled at himself.)

Andrassy lost his greasy smile. His eyes narrowed.  "I assure you, Mr. Solo, that unlike so many of those silly movies, there will be no rescue for you.  Your script ends here.  You have frustrated me too much over the years."

"You _do_ know that if you kill me, you'll be acting against strict orders? And that Angelique has orders to kill _you_ if you kill me, or try to kill me?"

"That for that interfering bitch," Andrassy growled, snapping his fingers.  "And that for the orders - which I deny have any validity or relevance to me anyway - of a superannuated old fossil who didn't even want to join the Council when opportunity knocked.  He seems to be content to doze in his comfy chair by the fire in that freak-loving, earthquake-prone city of his.  He has no ambition.  I tell you, Solo, I suffer from no such lack.  The success of Project Roboto will propel me toward membership on the Council at supersonic speed!"  

Solo rolled his eyes at that, but the Thrush seemed not to care. He went on, "As I said, you have stuck your long nose into my plans once too often, and I intend to put an end to that - and you.  You may remember that the late Andrew Vulcan once attempted to eliminate you in this fashion, but he made one crucial mistake." Stepping forward, he grabbed Napoleon's shoes and yanked them off.  Flourishing the footwear with a sneer, he continued, "Try kicking a pipe full of scalding water loose wearing only socks.  Farewell, Mr. Solo - and don't forget to wash behind the ears."  He stooped to turn the wheel on a hot-water pipe all the way to the "open" position, then departed with a mocking wave, followed by his soldiers.  Juliana blew Solo an equally mocking kiss, then spun neatly on her high heel and followed the others.

Napoleon scowled at the prospect.  "Damn people with long memories," he muttered as he tried to figure a way out of his predicament.  Without his shoes, though, he didn't see anything immediately apparent.  And it was starting to get stuffy in here...

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

Illya Kuryakin was lying in a very familiar, and very unpleasant, position; strapped down to a table, Thrushmen surrounding him holding various pain-wielding implements and grinning at him nastily.

"That does it. I'm going to demand a raise in my hazardous-duty pay," he commented.  One of the uniformed Thrushmen slapped him, not particularly hard, more of a "be quiet" kind of slap.  The door hissed open and Andrassy and Juliana strode in, followed by more Thrush soldiers.

"Well, well. The famous Mr. Kuryakin, at our mercy.  I feel sure you'll be interested to know that we have, shall we say, taken care of your impetuous partner Mr. Solo.  In due course, he will no longer be an obstacle to my plans...and neither will you."
Andrassy grinned down at Illya.

"First, though," Juliana cooed, "we're going to have some fun."  She gestured to one of the soldiers, who pushed a large water tank over.  Juliana took a tube and affixed it to a rack, arranging the opening so that it was positioned directly above Illya's forehead.

"The classic Chinese Water Torture, Mr. Kuryakin.  Not so menacing-sounding in itself - just the dripping of water onto the victim's forehead - but that's the point, don't you see? Hour after hour after hour after hour of drip, drip, drip," she murmured into Illya's ear, "until the victim's mind breaks.  For you, my dear, we've created a special refinement." She snapped her fingers at another soldier, who handed her a vial.  She opened the vial and poured its contents into the tank.  "A new kind of acid of our own development, produced by someone you may know - a Dr. Egret." she smiled.  

Illya looked up at her sharply. "Dr. Egret?"

"Yes, she was gracious enough to devise it for us; she derived it from another chemical you may be familiar with, from the Dundee affair. It leaves no physical mark but the effect on the victim's nervous systems, particularly his pain receptors, is...significant.  In fact, Mr. Kuryakin, you really should be thanking me for diluting it.  If I were to have poured it on you undiluted, you'd probably break your back from convulsions."

Illya stared at her, defiantly silent.

Juliana sighed.  "Please don't think this is mere sadism, Mr. Kuryakin.  We do desire certain information from you...for instance, shall we say, the master passwords to U.N.C.L.E.'s intranet?"

"No sale," Illya gritted.

"They always say that, or variations thereof," Juliana smirked.  She ran one long fingernail lightly over Illya's face, then turned the faucet on the tank.  Water gurgled.

A drop splattered on Illya's forehead.

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

Everyone reached the utility plant at about the same time.  Angelique dismounted from the broom somewhat shakily and did her best to rearrange her disheveled platinum locks, as Urd and Serena landed a few feet away.  Keiichi and Skuld both roared up immediately thereafter.  There were a couple of guards, who were quickly dispatched by the two Thrushwomen, who picked up the dropped rifles.

"All right," Angelique nodded, chambering a round.  She thought for a moment, then continued.  

"Belldandy, you, I and Keiichi will go to find Napoleon." She pointed at Urd, Skuld and Serena.  "The rest of you will search for Illya.  Keiichi, ladies - you're not used to combat situations.  I know that the three of you," she nodded to the goddesses, "are probably less vulnerable to weapons than humans,  but you're still not trained for this.  So stay close to myself and Serena.  Belldandy, I'm counting on you to watch over Keiichi.  He's probably the one most at risk if something goes wrong."

Belldandy nodded. "I agree - but try not to worry too much, Miss Angelique. Your Napoleon isn't far away and we'll be able to get him out, him and Illya too.  Just watch!" She winked at Angelique. Serena touched Angelique on the shoulder, then hurried off with Urd and Skuld.    Angelique nodded at her companions. "Let's go," she said, and headed into the building.

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

Keiichi pounded down the corridor, followed closely by Belldandy and Angelique.  "Be careful, Keiichi-san - there are Thrush people all around here!" she warned.

"I know it," the young engineer replied tensely. He peered around a corner, then ducked quickly back.  "There's that fellow Andrassy and his sidekick with a bunch of soldiers.  They just came out of the main control room.  I wonder what they were doing there."

"Let's find out," Belldandy said.  The two waited until the Thrushes had gone, then darted across to the door.  Keiichi tried the doorknob.  "Locked," he growled.

"Here, dear, let me try." Belldandy raised her hands and sang out a rhythmic incantation in a strange language, her diamond-shaped marking glowing.  The knob rattled and clicked.  Keiichi turned it and the door opened smoothly.  "Napoleon!" Angelique cried in a startling (to her) rush of gladness and relief. Then she took in Solo's plight and her eyes narrowed.

"Oh, no! Mr. Solo!" Belldandy gasped. She ran over to the immobilized CEA.  "Who _did_ this to you?!"

"I can take a guess," Keiichi stated as he stepped over.  He took in the situation and tried to turn the valve off.  "Damn! It's stuck!"

Belldandy glanced back at the door, and her blue eyes darkened.  "I think I can guess, too," she murmured to herself.  Turning back to Napoleon, she reassured him, "Don't worry, we'll get you down from there."

"How can you do that? There's no ladder," Napoleon replied.

Belldandy smiled.  "This way," she answered, and began another incantation.

As the glow built up around her, Napoleon's eyes just about popped out of their sockets in sheer dumbfoundment.  Angelique's jaw dropped and her eyes opened wide again.

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

"OK, I give.  You guys really _are_ goddesses," Napoleon conceded as he followed Angelique, Belldandy and Keiichi through the maze of pipes.

Belldandy laughed. "Actually, Keiichi-san is just as human as you are; it's just me and my sisters who are goddesses. That's what I've been trying to tell people for years, but Keiichi-san is always stopping me for some reason or other.  He has this idea that I'd start a panic or something.  Really, darling," she said, turning back toward the young man, "I'm not one of Mr. Wells' Martians."

"Oh yes. I listened to his '38 radio show once, Illya has it on one of his CD's."

"No, Mr. Solo. The _original_ author, H. G. Wells.  Mr. Orson Welles did a good job, but I don't think it was exactly canonical...Keiichi-san, do you think this is the right exit?"

Keiichi opened the door a crack and peered out cautiously.  "Looks all right, at least, I don't see anything."

"Here, let me try something first," Napoleon said.  He pulled out a handful of loose change from his pocket and tossed it lightly down the hallway.  Nothing happened.  Napoleon grinned.  "OK, kids, looks like this section of the coast is clear."  At their inquiring looks, he added, "I was checking to see whether there was anything - a security laser or like that - that could be tripped.  Let's go."

"Well, darling," Angelique said as archly as she could as she trotted alongside Napoleon, "it seems I haven't done that good a job of protecting you after all.  There goes my bonus."

Napoleon chuckled and kissed her quickly. "Don't sell yourself so short.  You're here, you brought Bell and Keiichi with you, you all got me out."  The four proceeded in single file, Belldandy following close on Napoleon and Angelique with Keiichi bringing up the rear.  Napoleon asked, "What about Illya? Do you know where he is?"

"No, but Urd and Skuld are looking for him, along with Miss Serena."

"OK," Napoleon nodded.  He turned to Angelique again. "Juliana seems to have appropriated my Special.  Could I, uh, trouble you for a loan?"

Angelique grinned and tossed a Luger to Napoleon.  "No problem.  It's not quite as whiz-bang as your Specials, but I find the Luger is a most serviceable classic."

Napoleon grinned back as he tested the action and checked the magazine. "I find the same thing. Maybe we should arm the others as well..."  He looked at Belldandy and Keiichi.  The goddess shook her head.  "Not necessary, Mr. Solo. You've seen something of what I can do, and I can protect Keiichi.  Let's worry about poor Mr. Kuryakin.  I really don't like the looks of that Juliana woman.  I have no idea what she was planning to do to him, and frankly, I'd rather not know."

Angelique nodded, looking grim.  "Wise of you. We've spent enough time talking, let's go!" She sprinted off, the others following her.

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

Banpei, in the lead, suddenly stopped.  Skuld peered at her PDA.  "Mr. Kuryakin's in here," she declared with assurance.  Serena stepped forward, readying her rifle, and Urd moved to the other side of the door.  They both whirled, hearing footsteps, but relaxed as soon as they saw Napoleon, Angelique, Belldandy and Keiichi.

"No fair starting without us," Napoleon said with a grin.  "How are we going to do this?"

"Straightforward seems the best way," Serena answered.  "Just break down the door and charge in before the enemy has a chance to react."

"No need for such crude muscle action," Urd demurred with a wave of her hand.  "Belldandy's been doing most of the spellcasting programming so far, but I have a bag of tricks of my own, and it's about time I displayed it."  She produced a vial of some oddly glowing purple substance, uncorked it, and poured some of its contents over the doorknob.  Restopping the vial, she stowed it, turned to the others, and dusted her hands. "That's that," she said briskly.

"That's what?" Angelique asked.

"I unlocked the door. You can just walk right on in."

Napoleon raised his eyebrows - he thought irrelevantly to himself that, as much as he was doing that lately, he might end up being mistaken for Mr. Spock on the street - reached out, and turned the doorknob.  It yielded smoothly, and the door swung open.

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

Juliana and Andrassy looked up sharply. "What the...." Andrassy began. His expression soured. "Oh. You.  I thought I had done for you this time."

"Never underestimate the power of divinity," Napoleon replied in a deceptively light tone, though his face was set and his brown eyes hard.  He gestured toward the table where the pinioned Illya lay.  "Unbind him.  It's over."

"Oh, I think not," Juliana sneered.  One spike-heeled foot touched a control on the floor.  Gouts of white steam jetted out from the ceiling, the floor and all four walls.  The agents, blinded, could only swear as they tried vainly to find something to shoot at.

As quickly as it had come, the steam disappeared, sucked up by ventilation fans.  Juliana and Andrassy were gone, but Illya still lay on the table.  He turned his head toward Napoleon.  "Hello, there, Napoleon.  Our Juliana seems to be yet another fan of Kuryakin torture." He winced as another drop of water landed on his head.

Serena crossed over to the water tank and turned off the tap.  She opened it, peered inside and sniffed.  "I think I know this chemical.  Our research section was working on it as a possible new interrogation aid.  I don't suppose it was very successful, though," she said as she looked over at Illya.

"Juliana may have diluted it too much to be useful," Illya commented as Napoleon loosed his bonds and he sat up.  "It still hurt like the devil, though."

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

"Now that we're all together again, where to?" Angelique asked.

Napoleon frowned.  "We need to find Morrow, obviously, and round up Andrassy and Antonelli and shut them down. Skuld, can your robot help one more time?"

The youngest goddess replied with a slightly smug smile, "Ask and ye shall receive. I programmed Banpei-kun to track the bad guys, and this is what he came up with." She showed Napoleon the display of her PDA.

Napoleon looked at the screen, and his dark eyebrows contracted a little. "A funeral home?  Not exactly the kind of satrapy I'd imagine Thrush acquiring, usually."  He halted suddenly, and slammed his fist into his hand, his brown eyes sparking with excitement.  "That's IT! That must be 'the home' Morrow was referring to!"

"We have interests in all sorts of things, dear Napoleon," said Serena wryly. She peered over his shoulder at the PDA's screen. "Not too far away from here, if I'm reading these data right."

"It isn't," Skuld confirmed.  

"Let's go, then," Napoleon said.  He turned to Illya. "You sure you're all right?"

"I am fine, Napoleon," Illya answered with some irritation.  Napoleon noticed that he didn't shake off Serena's supporting hand, though.

"I just can't figure out what the deal with this Juliana item _is_," Napoleon complained. "Italian women are usually so nice..."

"Not every woman in Italy can be like Pia Monteri, Napoleon," Illya noted. Napoleon conceded the point.

"One more thing," Belldandy said quickly. She whispered to Keiichi, and the young man nodded, sprinting over to his motorcycle and returning with a cooler.

"What now?" wondered Napoleon, frowning in perplexity.

"We need to replenish our power," Belldandy explained.  She handed a large bottle of sake to Urd, a canister of what looked like ice cream to Skuld, then opened a thermos and poured a steaming cup of...tea?

The agents stared, but only in mild bemusement by now; after everything else that had happened, this was really rather small potatoes.  "These are supposed to replenish your energy levels?" Illya asked.

"Yes - Urd's alternate power source is sake, and Skuld's is ice cream.  Actually, my own alternate power source is sleep, but there's no time now to take a nap, and I did want a nice cup of Darjeeling before we got started. Keiichi always keeps some in his motorcycle for emergencies like this. There, all done." She briskly screwed the top back onto the thermos.  "We really are ready to go now!"

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

THE THRUSH BASE
SOMEWHERE IN NEKOMI CITY

Two Thrush soldiers hauled Dr. Morrow to his feet.

"Rise and shine, Doctor", grinned Andrassy.  "Since you still won't cooperate, I'm afraid we now have to proceed to what the old Soviets called 'strict regime'. This way." He gestured, and the uniformed Thrushmen hauled the professor with them.  Dr. Morrow would have snarled at them, but considered it not quite worth the effort.

Andrassy stopped in front of a door, pressed a button; the door retracted, and the little group entered a huge chamber crowded full of mechanoids of every description except one:

Robots that would walk and run.

"Well, Doctor, this is your big chance for fame," Andrassy grinned. "Make these robots walk like men, and power and fame are yours."  He raised his eyebrows expectantly. "What say you?"

Morrow glared back at him, but said nothing.  Andrassy sighed.

"What, not even a "Nuts!"? Oh, well. Nobody has any sense of history these days.  Well, then, let's go somewhere else." He nodded to the soldiers, who frogmarched Morrow as they followed Andrassy back down the corridor.  The satrap pushed another button opening another door, and led the way inside.  He turned on a light.  Morrow gasped.

The robots in this room were also non-mobile...but fully - in fact, heavily - armed, and in all respects other than movement completely functional and powered up.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Andrassy grinned at the scientist.   He nodded to the soldiers, who lashed Morrow to a steel pillar.  

"As you see, Doctor, even if you refuse to give us the ultimate robotic technology - robots that can walk and run - we can still make do fairly well with what we have."  He shrugged. "We can always slap tank treads on them or something like that. Well, it's no matter. Enjoy the show as Thrush's creations go to war.  But don't make yourself too obvious; they seem to have a dislike for anything organic. I can't imagine why. Good luck...but not too much of it." Slapping Dr. Morrow on the back, Andrassy departed with a mocking laugh, buttressed by his Thrush henchmen.

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

OUTSIDE THE THRUSH BASE

The rescue party surveyed the funeral home, which was, a bit unusually for a Japanese business establishment - indeed, considering the premium of space in that country, a bit unusual for any building in an urban area - set apart from its immediate neighbors.  It also looked exceptionally large - indeed, suspiciously large - for a funeral home, unless its builders had intended to accommodate "customers" from the next Big One to hit Tokyo.

"We need a distraction so we can get in," Napoleon said, studying the complex.  He could distinctly see several Thrush soldiers, rifles at the ready, patrolling.

"I can handle that," Urd answered.  She huddled with Belldandy for a moment.  "OK, get ready," she said with a grin.  The agents readied their weapons.

Without so much as a bang or flash of light, Urd separated into five miniatures of herself.  "Oh, how cute - Super-Deformed Urds," Serena said.  

"Super-Deformed?" Napoleon asked, puzzled.

"Specially drawn miniature versions of anime characters. They're so _kawaii_!" Serena answered enthusiastically.

Angelique added with a sidelong glance, "Kawaii means 'cute' in Japanese, in case you wanted to know. It means 'cute' even if you didn't want to know," she continued, smiling. "It's a national obsession with the Japanese, which explains - " she shuddered - "Hello Kitty.  When we take over, I'm going to find whoever was responsible for that and make him watch Ranma 1/2 interspersed with Dragonball Z on continuous loop."

Illya winced.  "I see Thrush has retained its fondness for cruel and unusual punishment!"

During this exchange, Belldandy had been intoning another of her magic spells, this one longer than usual. At its conclusion, she clapped her hands sharply. A burst of light enveloped the Mini-Urds....

...and when the light dissipated, there were dozens of them. _Hundreds_, in fact.

"Thanks, sis," they chorused.  "Watch our dust!" They sprinted toward the funeral home at top speed, many of them flying on miniature brooms.

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

In the Thrush command center, one of the technicians gawked at her monitor screen.  "Andrassy-san! There are _hundreds_ of little girls attacking the base!" she cried.

Stefan Andrassy stomped over to the station.  "Nonsense, woman. I'll have you know..." he stopped speaking, and gazed at the screen himself.  He whirled on Juliana. "Sound red alert!" he shouted.

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

Napoleon and the others watched chaos erupt around the funeral home as Thrush soldiers ran out and took up defensive positions, pouring automatic rifle fire into the cloud of mini-Urds dashing around the complex.  "I really hope Urd doesn't get hurt," he fretted.

"It's OK, Mr. Solo," Belldandy reassured him. "Mortal weapons can't hurt us goddesses, and besides, most of those Mini-Urds are visual illusions - there's nothing there for those people to shoot at.  Your coast is clear."

"Right.  Let's go," he said, nodding to his companions and leading the way.  Staying low to the ground, the agents advanced on the service entrance, while the attention of the Thrushes was concentrated on the front where most of the Mini-Urds were.

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

Napoleon held up a hand as the party neared the service entrance.  "Wait a moment.  Thrush never leaves its rear exposed.  We'd better check for traps first.  Illya...?" The Russian stepped up and carefully eyed the door, running his finger up and around the door jamb.  He reported, "There does appear to be a sensor of some kind here, though I cannot determine whether it is linked to an explosive device.  I don't seem to have my tools with me..."

"I do," Skuld interrupted.  She pulled out a toolbox from a storage compartment in Banpei's lower back and hurried over to Illya.  They bent their heads together.

After several minutes of work, Illya looked up at Napoleon and nodded.  "The door did have a bomb attached to it, but it's been disarmed now.  It's also unlocked, just walk right on in."

Napoleon duly turned the knob, and the door opened smoothly.  With his gun held at the ready, he cautiously led the party into the receiving area of the funeral home.  Several empty gurneys stood in the wide hallway, and there was a faint smell of formaldehyde.  Angelique sniffed. "Curious," she remarked. "Japanese don't go in for embalming as a general rule.  Maybe this place caters to foreign residents."  She looked around.  "Do you see anything that looks like it could lead to a robot storage area?"

The others peered around.  Keiichi ventured, "Maybe this door?" He pointed to a double-wide door.  Napoleon crossed over and looked through the window panels.  "I see a flight of stairs," he said.  He opened the door and the party of agents and goddesses advanced cautiously.  

Serena turned her head slowly from side to side, her bright copper hair swinging.  "Here's a light switch."  She cautiously flipped it on.

"Well," Napoleon said after a couple of seconds of awed silence, "I guess there really are such things as mecha."

Two ranks of large robots lined either wall of the chamber, each of them armed with what looked like a huge, extremely large-caliber rifle and various other implements of destruction.  They were each about half again as large as an average human being.  However, they didn't seem to be in any immediate danger of being used by Andrassy, because as the agents looked over them, it became apparent that they were all incomplete below the waists. Most of them had only skeletal leg assemblies, and tools and testing equipment were scattered everywhere.

"That's why Andrassy wanted Morrow," Napoleon declared with assurance, "to make those robots walk."

"Hey! What are you doing down there?" a voice yelled from the top of the stairs.  The invaders whirled to see a single Thrush soldier, his scope-mounted rifle at the ready, coming down.  His eyes widened as he saw Napoleon and Illya, obviously recognized them, and prepared to yell an alarm...

...only to go tumbling end over end, fetching up against the wall, as a hammer hit him between the eyes with a solid THUNK. Serena dusted her hands.  "I don't like people who yell all the time," she commented.  "We'd better get going.  That little contretemps might bring others."

Napoleon nodded.  "Let's go!" He set off at a run, the others following.

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

They started encountering opposition almost at once.  Several Thrush soldiers running down the hallway saw the agents and their friends, yelled and pointed and then raised their rifles.  Belldandy called out a quick spell and a shimmering...curtain...of sorts appeared between the two groups.  Rifles fired on full automatic, but the bullets bounced harmlessly off the magical field. Napoleon and Illya fired back at the enemy, noticing that their bullets had no problem with Belldandy's magic, and a couple of the grey-uniformed soldiers fell.  The others withdrew in some disorder.

"Start looking for anything that looks like a cell!" Napoleon ordered.  They proceeded up the wide hallway, checking every door they came to, and occasionally (with Belldandy's help) repelling attacks from groups of Thrush guards.  Urd lent a hand by sending several lightning bolts sizzling down the hall, scattering the hostiles and exciting yells of pain and alarm.

"Supplies, administration, burial shroud storage, embalming rooms...why are there so many embalming rooms in this place? There can't be that many people who need to be pumped full of formaldehyde," muttered Napoleon as he passed each door.

"Napoleon," said Illya sharply, as he came to another door labelled "Embalming Room 26", "possibly these are _not_ embalming rooms after all.  The doors are too thick and there are peepholes.  Would genuine morticians want somebody peeking in at them?"

Napoleon came up beside Illya and peered through the peephole.  "Nobody in here...But you're right, Illya.  This is a prison cell.  Everyone!  Start checking the peepholes in these doors.  If you find Dr. Morrow, sing out."

They all got busy, and in a few minutes Serena shouted, "Over here! I've found him!" She was standing in front of the so-called "Embalming Room 17".

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

"Here, let me see," Napoleon said.  He stepped up to the peephole as Serena moved aside.  

Scanning the inside, Napoleon commented, "Embalming room, my foot.  This is a _cavern_.  There's only one light on, and I see Dr. Morrow - he's tied up to a pillar.  We'll need to go in and get him.  Uh....what is it, Belldandy?" he asked, as the goddess tugged lightly at his sleeve.

"Excuse me, Mr. Solo, but I found this back where we came in.  I don't know why it was lying there, but isn't this your gun?" she said, holding out a familiar object.  Napoleon grinned.  "It sure is - thanks!" he said, taking the U.N.C.L.E. Special and shoving the borrowed Luger into his belt.  "Now, we need to get this door open..."

"I'll do it, Mr. Solo," Belldandy interrupted.  Taking a deep breath, the goddess (who was beginning to look rather exhausted) began a particularly complex invocation in a rich, rolling language.  Skuld, Urd and Keiichi all scanned the corridor anxiously, dreading the sight of yet more Thrush soldiers.  Banpei whirred in a patrol pattern, his long staff at the ready.  Napoleon and the other agents waited tensely.

With a final word from Belldandy, the cell lock glowed with light, then snapped in half, and the door swung smoothly open. Belldandy staggered a little and was caught by Keiichi.  "Are you all right?" Napoleon said with concern.

"Mm? Oh, yes, I am.  Just running low on my energy, that's all," Belldandy said with a wan smile.  "I think I need to sit down a moment, though. Keiichi-san, would you stay with me? The others can go in and get Dr. Morrow."

"I think that's wise," Napoleon nodded.  He signaled to the others. "All right, let's go.  Angelique, I want you up here with me."  The blonde nodded and stepped up beside the U.N.C.L.E. agent.  Napoleon advanced cautiously into the huge room.  "Dr. Morrow! Can you hear me?  Are you all right?"

The figure lashed to the pillar stirred and lifted its head, and there indeed was Dr. Morrow, battered but unbowed.  He rasped, "Are you the U.N.C.L.E.  agents? I'm fine, or not too badly off - but you'd better watch out.  There are combat robots around you!"

"We know," Solo soothed.  "We found some of them on the way here.  They're inactive."

"Not these ones!" Morrow said, shaking his head violently. "Somehow that fellow Andrassy and his bully boys managed to get them walking and working.  They're _here_, in this room - at least a dozen of them!"

Suddenly, the lights came up, revealing that Morrow was right.  Robots of the same general pattern as the half-completed ones they had seen in the other room were revealed standing along either lengthwise wall, but all of these were complete except for legs, gleaming with polished steel, their weapons held at the ready.

A mocking laugh came from an intercom.  "Ha ha!  At last we have you where we want you, U.N.C.L.E.  agents and turncoat Thrushes!  Say hello to our Mark 1 Battlebots, the latest products of Thrush ingenuity - and say goodbye to your lives!"  With a great whirring and clanking, the robots stirred to life, their optics gleaming a baleful red.  Their torsos twisted until they were facing the rescue party.  Blood-red targeting laser beams lanced out.

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

Outside in the hallway, someone else stirred.  Belldandy heard the mechanical noises, and lifted her head from her knees where she had been sitting huddled up next to her anxious beloved.  She got up a bit shakily, helped by Keiichi, took a look through the open door, and gasped in horror.

"Oh, no!  This is terrible!   They'll all be killed - why, that horrible Andrassy man!" A look of steely determination came across her face  - something that would have been quite shocking to most other people, but not Keiichi, who'd seen that same expression on the gentle goddess' face in other times of great need.  He asked only, "Belldandy, are you sure you have enough power to do this?"

"I've got to try, Keiichi-san.  My sisters will do their best - " indeed, Urd and Skuld were girding for battle - "but there are five mortals' lives in there that depend on us. I _HAVE_ to try."  She took another deep breath and started on a new incantation, the most complex spell yet.

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

Napoleon turned to Angelique.  "Look, Angelique, you grab Dr. Morrow and get out of here with the rest. I and Illya will stay to delay those things."

"The hell you will," the blonde Thrushwoman answered succinctly.  "I've come this far, I'm not going to run out on you at the last minute.  Besides, I _still_ want Andrassy's head on a platter, not to mention Juliana's!"

"I'm not leaving, either," Serena chimed in.  "We'll _all_ delay those metal monsters while Urd and Skuld get Morrow untied and out of here. Then we'll figure out some way to get those people.  Illya, have you got any ideas?"

Kuryakin was thinking hard.  "If I can get at that extension cord and find a fuse box," he hypothesized, "I might be able to overload some of those robots..."

At that instant, a strange, high-pitched chiming noise resounded throughout the huge chamber.  The robots, coming to attack position, suddenly froze.  Everyone looked at them, wondering what was going forward.

The robots began to vibrate, then shake faster and faster, as a brilliant white light shone around them. "Onee-sama!" Skuld cried. "She's casting an Implosion Spell! GET DOWN, EVERYONE!!!"

Everyone fell flat to the ground, covering their heads or other vulnerable parts.  Even Banpei went down, landing with a clunk on his round belly, and Morrow hunched in on himself as much as he could.

There was a tremendous roar, accompanied by a grinding, screeching noise that made the fillings in Napoleon's teeth ache, as all the robots suddenly collapsed in on themselves.  With a deafening BANG, the robots disappeared as air rushed in to fill the places where they had stood.

Napoleon could only shake his head in awe.  "She really _is_ a goddess," he muttered.  Angelique poked him. "That's the second time you've said that today," she said with a sidelong grin.

Urd and Skuld hurried forward and untied Morrow..  He looked up, blinking, and said in a rather querulous tone, "Well, there you are at last, young Skuld. It took you long enough to figure out that message."

"We took the scenic route," Urd replied dryly, hoisting the roboticist up.  Morrow grumped, "I'm perfectly fine, young lady, I can walk.  Those Thrush people didn't feed me very excitingly, but they did feed me."

"Well, then, let's get going!" the oldest Norn said.  Supporting the elderly scientist over his protests, she guided him out of the cell, followed by Skuld and the agents.    They found Keiichi in the hallway, holding a sleeping Belldandy. Keiichi hoisted his gently snoring girlfriend in his arms.  "Let's get out of here. I've watched my share of spy movies, and I'll bet you anything you care to name that those Thrush people have some kind of self-destruct thing set to blow," he said.

"You do that," Napoleon said. "Now, we're going to - at last - take down Andrassy and Juliana!" he concluded with a fierce grin.  The four agents checked their weapons one last time and pelted off down the hall in the direction of a sign that said TO CONTROL CENTER.

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

Napoleon, Illya, Angelique and Serena stormed into the central room of the fake funeral home.  Andrassy and Juliana stood there, surrounded by a brace of Thrush soldiers.  Andrassy whirled, his face twisted with baffled rage. "YOU!" he shouted.

"Us," Napoleon confirmed grimly. He pointed his Special at the Thrush renegade.  "You're under arrest, you and Juliana and all of your people.  Drop your weapons, now!"

"You won't get us so easily!" snarled Juliana.  She threw an object at the agents.  "GRENADE!" yelled Angelique and dove for Napoleon, knocking the U.N.C.L.E. agent off his feet and rolling him under a table.  Serena did the same thing with Illya.  

The grenade went off, but instead of spraying shrapnel it spewed white smoke.  Juliana could be seen running for an exit marked "TO CASKET DISPLAY OBSERVATION CATWALK".  Napoleon wondered why a funeral home would need such a thing as a catwalk for its showroom, but only briefly; Andrassy's soldiers were opening fire.

"Give me covering fire - I'm going to go after Juliana!" shouted Angelique.  Napoleon nodded, and Angelique crawled off rapidly, followed closely by Serena, both of them spraying the enemy with bursts from their rifles.  Napoleon and Illya added the distinctive barks of their U.N.C.L.E. Specials to the havoc.

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

Juliana pelted out of the door onto the catwalk, which, as the sign announced, overlooked an ornate display room filled with various different models of caskets and coffins. Angelique ran out onto the catwalk after the renegade.  "Hold it right there, Juliana! Give it up - you're all washed up," she shouted.

Juliana whirled, her face a mask of fury, and spat, "I'll see you in hell first!" She pulled something out of her jacket.  "Recognize this?" she said with a cruel little smile, advancing slowly on Angelique, holding the object out point first.

Angelique raised her rifle and pulled the trigger, but only a click responded; she had forgotten to change magazines.  Tossing it aside, she said coolly, "Sure. Another brain homogenizer, like the one your little friend tried to use on me last night.  Another little gift from Dr. Egret?"

"Yes, and I'm going to turn _your_ brain into scrambled eggs with it!" Juliana shrieked, and leapt upon Angelique, who fell backward heavily to the floor of the catwalk, desperately scrabbling to keep the point of the deadly electronic weapon from touching her flesh.  The two women rolled over and over, spitting and snarling, kicking, slapping, punching and scratching.

Serena slammed through the door and saw the fight; she tried to get a bead on Juliana with her pistol, but couldn't find a clear target in the vicious melee.  She cursed, holding the gun in both hands.

Juliana was now atop Angelique again, the brain homogenizer upraised in her right hand.  Angelique was grappling her enemy's arm with her own left hand, while her right hand was shoved into Juliana's face, her fingernails trying to claw at her eyes. Juliana viciously punched Angelique with her free hand and the blonde's strength weakened momentarily.  Grinning, the brunette brought the homogenizer down little by little toward Angelique's forehead.

Serena saw the shot - a difficult one, but the best chance to save her friend.  She dropped to one knee, steadied herself, and squeezed the trigger smoothly.

The brain homogenizer exploded in Juliana's hand, backflashing and sending a tremendous shock down her arm and through her nervous system.  With an agonized yowl, the renegade Thrushwoman reared back off Angelique, who raised both feet and kicked her squarely in the solar plexus.  Juliana spun off Angelique, crashed through the handrail, and fell twenty feet off the catwalk...

squarely into an open casket, with a sickening smack.  Angelique painfully levered herself up, helped by Serena, and the two Thrushwomen peered over the broken guardrail.  

Juliana was lying half in, half out of the casket, her head hanging at an odd angle and her brown eyes wide, staring and already glazing.  As Angelique and Serena looked down, the lid suddenly slammed down with a BANG, leaving only the defunct Thrushwoman's legs hanging outside the coffin.

Angelique blew out a breath, then turned to Serena.  "That's a good example, if any I saw one," she commented, "of a person who looked her best at her own funeral." Serena laughed a bit more than the joke deserved, and the two women left the catwalk.

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

Napoleon dropped another of Andrassy's henchmen with a chest shot, ejected the magazine on his recovered Special and loaded a new one, then looked around.  Andrassy himself was sidling toward a suspicious-looking control panel.

"Get away from there, Andrassy," Napoleon snapped, leveling the Special at him.  Illya finished off his last opponent and trotted up to join his partner, his own Special also leveled on the Thrush satrap.  "It's all over for you.  Surrender now and I _might_ be able to keep you from the tender mercies of Thrush Central (though that would make Angelique upset with me)."

"And a Japanese prison would be any better?" jeered Stefan Andrassy, his eyes blazing with frustrated malice as he slapped switches and spun dials.  "Solo, you accused me of talking like something out of a bad film noir earlier, yes?"

"Maybe I did," Napoleon acknowledged.  "I'm not telling you again - get away from there."

"I think not," sneered Andrassy. "Here's a quote from a _good_ film noir for you then, my U.N.C.L.E. friend - TOP OF THE WORLD, MAAAAAA!" With that last scream, Andrassy slammed a final switch down.  Napoleon and Illya both fired, the bullets catching Andrassy in his upper chest and spinning him around, but it was too late.  Red lights gleamed on the panel and a mechanical voice announced, " Self-destruct activated. Self-destruct activated. Warning, self-destruct activated. Evacuate complex now. Repeat, evacuate complex now...."

"It's going to blow. Where's Angelique?" Napoleon snapped.

"Right here, darling," a voice said, and there indeed was Angelique, looking somewhat the worse for wear but her blue eyes as brilliant as ever.  She glanced at Andrassy's body. "Good riddance to bad rubbish.  I see he was able to start the self-destruct.  You really shouldn't give warning, Napoleon darling - just shoot," she chided as she turned to run.

"Tender-heartedness is my weakness," Napoleon said dryly, running hell-for-leather himself.  Illya and Serena were right behind them.

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

"Where _are_ Mr. Solo and Mr. Kuryakin?" fretted Skuld.  She said, "Banpei, prepare to go..."

At that moment, Napoleon and Angelique ran out the front door, followed by Illya and Serena.  "It's finished, kids. Andrassy and Juliana are kaput.  We'd better get away from here - the place's going to go sky-high!"  He paused and looked at Keiichi's burden.  Concern furrowing his brow, he asked, "Is Belldandy all right? Was she injured after all?"

Keiichi smiled and shook her head.  "No, she just falls asleep whenever she exhausts her power reserves. It's nothing that a good nap and a few cups of Darjeeling tea won't cure."

They dashed away from the building and ducked behind a large truck parked about fifty meters away, falling to the ground just as fire erupted from the funeral home's windows.  A powerful explosion rattled windows all over that part of Nekomi City, and the Thrush base collapsed in on itself in a cloud of smoke, flame and dust.

As sirens from fire engines and police cars drew nearer, Napoleon rose to his feet and dusted himself off.  He commented, "Well, at least Stefan Andrassy and Juliana Antonelli won't need to worry about pre-need planning."

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

EPILOGUE

THE NEXT DAY
TARIKI HONGAN COMPOUND
NEKOMI CITY

"Welcome!" Belldandy greeted the four agents as they arrived again at the compound.  As Keiichi had said, the exertions of the previous day hadn't had any ill effect, and the middle goddess was as bright and chipper as ever; he noticed that she was dressed differently today, in a strange but very lovely gown done in white, royal blue and gold, with a headdress of white silk wrapped around her golden-brown hair.  "Won't you come in?"

As the visitors stopped to take their shoes off, Belldandy motioned to Napoleon and Angelique.  "Could I have a moment of your time? There's something I want to talk about with you."  She led the couple outside, to a secluded area of the rock garden, and perched on a huge boulder.

"I telephoned the Almighty about you two earlier today," she began.

"Wait a minute - the Almighty? You mean...?" Napoleon blurted in amazement, pointing upwards.  Belldandy nodded, smiling.

"None other.  He agreed with me that you two deserve a reward for services rendered.  Now, you know that I used to work with the Goddess Relief Office's help desk before I came to live with Keiichi." Napoleon and Angelique nodded, still not quite sure what this was leading to.

"Well, one of my main jobs was to collect and grant wishes - one a customer, so to say - to deserving people," Belldandy continued.  "I suggested - and the Almighty agreed - that you be granted wishes of your own."  She smiled benignly at the two.

Napoleon and Angelique looked at each other first, then looked at Belldandy.  The blonde Thrushwoman ventured, "Uh....exactly what kind of wish are we talking about here?"

"Quite literally, Miss Angelique, anything your heart desires.  To cite two extreme, if canonical examples, you could wish to be a multibillionaire...or," the smile faded slightly, "you could wish for the destruction of the world.  Now," her voice grew wry, "it's possible that you might also wish for what your organization has been working for for so many years, namely, the _conquest_ of the world..."

Angelique turned and looked at Napoleon without expression for a long, long moment.  Napoleon looked back, trying not to show the sudden apprehension that churned in his stomach.  Finally, Angelique shook her head, smiling a rather rueful smile.

"It's tempting..._very_ tempting...but I don't think I'll wish for that thing.  For one thing, Napoleon would probably use his wish to counteract mine, and I don't know what that would do to your Yggdrasil computer.  Blow something up, I'm sure.  I wouldn't want to annoy Urd." Belldandy laughed, and Napoleon relaxed.  Then he tensed again, in a different way, because Angelique was now looking at him again, but in that old seductive way he knew so well, her beautiful blue eyes gleaming.

"I think I have an idea as to what I _really_ want...but it's rather more, hmmmm, personal than world conquest. Can I whisper it in your ear?" Angelique asked.  Belldandy nodded and bent her head, and Angelique murmured something quietly into her ear, covering her mouth so that Napoleon couldn't see.  When she had finished, Belldandy nodded and smiled, and said, "Now it's your turn, Napoleon."

Napoleon thought for a long moment, looking first at Angelique, then at Belldandy, then he asked, "If these wishes are granted, would they be granted immediately?"  Belldandy shook her head.

"No, Napoleon, it doesn't always work that way.  Sometimes wishes do get granted immediately - but sometimes it takes years, or even decades.  But you can rest assured of this; if your wish is granted, one day it _will_ come true."

Napoleon nodded, then grinned. "I'm ready, then."  He winked at Angelique. "Don't worry - I'm not going to wish for Thrush to fall apart, as much as I might desire that consummation." Angelique laughed lightly and moved aside.  As she had done, Napoleon whispered in Belldandy's ear for a moment, to another nod and smile from the goddess.

"Now what?" Napoleon asked as he stepped back.

Belldandy didn't answer, not in words, but the diamond-shaped brand on her forehead began to glow.  A high-pitched sound arose, increasing in volume to a keening shriek, and the glow spread to surround her entire body.  She began to levitate.

"What in the world...?" Angelique said, uncertainly.  

The keening noise abruptly changed to a tremendous roar, and a brilliant pillar of light exploded from the glow surrounding Belldandy and streaked up into the heavens.  The hair on Napoleon's and Angelique's heads tried to stand straight up, and they felt a powerful wind tugging their clothes as debris whipped through the garden.

As suddenly as they had come, though, the light and wind vanished, and Belldandy sank back earthward until, once again, she was sitting on the rock.  She beamed at Napoleon and Angelique.

"Your wishes," she said, "have been granted!"

Napoleon and Angelique looked at each other with a sudden wild surmise, but they never got to ask each other whatever it was they were going to ask, because their communicators both suddenly went off.  Napoleon nodded wryly to the ladies.  "Excuse me a moment," he said, and took out his pen transceiver.  "Open Channel D."

"Mr. Solo, we have just been advised by NASA that another high-energy event has taken place at the temple compound in Nekomi.  Can you shed any light on that?"

"Yes, sir," Napoleon responded.  "As a matter of fact, I witnessed the whole thing, and I can now report to you exactly what it is and why it happens.  I'd prefer to wait until I got back to New York, though, and brief you in person - it's a rather sensitive matter."

"Very good, then, Mr. Solo. I understand you and Mr. Kuryakin are to fly back to the United States tomorrow?" Waverly inquired.

"Yes, sir," Napoleon confirmed.  

"Very good, then.  Now that this affair of Dr. Morrow and the three goddesses has been satisfactorily concluded, there are other matters urgently requiring your attention and that of Mr. Kuryakin. I will brief you when you return."  As usual, Waverly broke the connection without signing off.

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

"Well, I just heard from Ward," Angelique told the others - Napoleon, Illya, Serena, Urd and Skuld (Belldandy was bustling between the kitchen and tea room), and Keiichi.  "I and Serena are going to be staying here for a while, putting Thrush-Japan back together, cleaning out the Andrassy trash and all that.  I'm sure the details wouldn't interest you."

"Oh, I'm sure...but it's interesting to see you come up in the world," Napoleon said.

Angelique shrugged. "I'm a field officer, darling, not a bureaucrat. These feet..." she admired the gleaming leather of her high heels, "were made to pound the pavement, not to be planted behind an office desk. Believe me", she continued with feeling, "I'll be so glad when this assignment is over and I can get back to _real_ work."

"Which is?" Napoleon asked innocently.

"Why, keeping you on your toes, Napoleon darling," Angelique cooed.  The two agents gazed at each other a moment, then burst into laughter.

"You know, though, I'm still wondering what you were working on when you were making those calls to Shanghai," Napoleon told Angelique.

"What calls to Shanghai?" Angelique responded innocently.

"The ones about a mysterious 'shipment'. Just what 'shipment' might that be, hmmmmmm?" Napoleon leaned forward.

Angelique smiled serenely.  "Legitimate business."

Napoleon's eyebrows contracted.  "Legitimate business?"

Illya cleared his throat.  "Uh, Napoleon? Maybe I can shed some light on that.  You missed a briefing the other weekend, you might recall.  That was when you had to leave early to wait for that cable TV repairman?"

"Yes, I remember," grumped Napoleon. "What about it, and what does that have to do with Angelique's mystery shipment?"

"Well, Thrush is getting into legit business - as in, signed, sealed and delivered, one hundred percent in compliance with all applicable laws - for the first time.  They've purchased licenses from various motion-picture studios to re-release rare movies on DVD, and the first shipments just went out to stores worldwide this past week," Illya said.

Angelique folded her arms and nodded. "We got those licenses for a song, and now ThrushMedia is going to make a pretty penny from releasing all those old movies that nobody ever bothered to get around to putting out again.  You won't believe the kind of things that people will put down good money for - but then, one man's trash is another man's treasure, or so they say." She shrugged elegantly.

Napoleon stared for a moment, then began to laugh.  "So all of that was about protecting...a _video_ business?"

"A _legitimate_ video business," Angelique amplified, raising one slim forefinger.  "None of those cheap pirate deals.  We've got lots of cool extras on our discs.  I can send you a catalogue if you'd like."

Napoleon shook his head ruefully.  "Thrush getting into the legitimate video dodge. Goddesses. Robots that walk. It's just as well Mr. Waverly seems to believe in goddesses himself, or he'd think we'd probably be smoking something we shouldn't be."

"We can help you acquire that, too, if that's what you desire," Angelique said, "...or not," she finished smoothly as the two U.N.C.L.E. agents turned to look at her.

"What about you, Serena?" Illya asked the redheaded Thrushwoman.

"As Angelique said, I'm going to be staying here for a while to help her, then..." she shrugged, "it's likely back to the field for me, too.  Which is all right with me." She smiled sultrily at Napoleon first, then Illya. "You just don't get to have much fun in the shower as a bureaucrat..." The two men turned an interesting shade of pink as the two women laughed.  Serena continued, "I expect I'll be running into you two again sometime soon.  Who knows whether we'll be on the same side again or on opposite sides as usual...but it'll be....hmmmmmmmmm...interesting," she finished with a slow wink of one green eye.

"Can't argue with that," Napoleon said. Illya nodded, smiling just a little.

Angelique cuddled up to Napoleon.  "In the meantime, since you don't have to leave until tomorrow, what do you say I finally demonstrate cosplay to you tonight? I have some costumes that will.....drive you wild," she said intimately, running a finger under his jacket lapel.

Before Napoleon could answer, Belldandy came out of the tea room, beaming.  "Dinnertime, everyone!" she said happily.  An incredible array of delicious smells wafted through the open tatami door.  

Napoleon looked consideringly at the blonde, then smiled. "I'm always open to new experiences," he said.  He offered his arm, which Angelique took, and they walked into the tea room.

THE END

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (in order of appearance):

Skuld - Norn of the Future, Systems Operations Technician (Debugging Specialist) / Yggdrasil, Goddess Second Class
Belldandy - Norn of the Present, Customer Service Agent / Goddess Relief Office Technical Help Line (retired), Goddess First Class, Unlimited License
Urd - Norn of the Past, Systems Operations Supervisor / Yggdrasil, Goddess Second Class, Limited License
Napoleon Solo - Chief Enforcement Agent (Number 1, Section 2 / Operations and Enforcement) U.N.C.L.E.-North America
Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin - Enforcement Agent (Number 2,  Section 2 / Operations and Enforcement) U.N.C.L.E.-North America
Alexander Waverly - Director, Policy and Operations (Number 1, Section 1 / Policy and Operations) U.N.C.L.E.-North America
George Dennell - Director, Section 4 (Intelligence and Communications) U.N.C.L.E.-North America
Denise - Director, Section 7 (Propaganda and Finance) U.N.C.L.E.-North America
Angelique La Chien - Senior field agent, Thrush
Ward Baldwin - San Francisco Satrap, Thrush
Stefan Andrassy - Thrush-Japan Satrap, Thrush
Juliana Antonelli - Deputy to Andrassy, Thrush
Dr. Morrow - Professor, Robotics Department, Nekomi Institute of Technology
Serena Malipiero - Field agent, Thrush
Keiichi Morisato - Mechanic and race driver, beloved of Belldandy
Banpei-kun - Security robot
Miyuki Kobayakawa - Patrol Officer, Traffic Division, Bokuto Precinct, Japan National Police
Natsumi Tsujimoto - Patrol Officer, Traffic Division, Bokuto Precinct, Japan National Police
Tamiya - Sempai (senior), N.I.T. Motor Cycle Club
Otaki - Another sempai., N.I.T.M.C.C.
Numerous Thrush soldiers, ninja and thugs/enforcers/goons

To Continue