The Fortune Cookie Affair, Chapter 8

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They arrived at the apartment building and found Dancer and Slate covering the exits.

“No birds yet, darlings. 5S is a storage room in the basement.”

The four agents took the stairs and cautiously entered Room Five. Illya was the first to spot Ecks. He was one of several THRUSHes seated at a long table in the center of the storeroom.

“Hands up,” Illya commanded and was immediately obeyed.

The scene before them was a strange one. Cartons were strewn everywhere. The table was loaded with hundreds of fortune cookies, some in wrappers and some not. The floor was littered with broken ones.

Wherever the agents stepped, they crunched.

The prisoners were handcuffed; Illya made sure he fastened Ecks’ extra tight. As backup from headquarters led them away, Ecks declared, “You’ll never find it.”

“What do we do now?” said Mark, scratching his head.

“We move the whole shebang back to headquarters.” Napoleon answered.

The operation was set up in U.N.C.L.E.’s cafeteria; any and all personnel who were not engaged in critical operations turned up to help. The kitchen staff set out urns of Oolong tea and cups.

“What are we looking for, Napoleon?”

“The formula.”