section7mfu | The Diamond In The Rough Affair

Back at UNCLE Headquarters Alexander Waverly was in a foul mood, dismayed at the night’s events. He had tried in vain to persuade Alistair Van Meter to allow Solo and Kuryakin access to the Mercury Diamond and properly safeguard it for the evening. The arrogance of the diamond purveyors was such that they felt impregnable, immune almost, to the threat of thievery. The reply to Waverly’s plea had been almost contemptuous.

‘It is too gauche, so completely unthinkable that anyone should dare to do something as blatant as steal the Mercury Diamond in a public venue.’

“Gauche indeed, my dear Alistair. I suspect you are repenting of your foolishness now, old friend.”

The pneumatic doors slid open with their signature swoosh as Napoleon and Illya entered, both still in tuxedos and looking for all the world as though the party were still in progress.

“Ah, gentlemen… please, sit down.”

The room was somber, lit to suit the mood of the evening somehow, unlike the appearance it normally held during the day. A young woman in UNCLE dress appeared with a tray, a coffee carafe and three cups.

“Thank you Miss Watson. And please send in Miss… erm, well you know the one.”

Miss Watson nodded her head, answering with a clipped “yes sir” before exiting the office.

Illya and Napoleon checked sideways glances at each other, wondering who, exactly, was being summoned.

The element of surprise was complete as Napoleon took in the lovely woman who entered through the swishing doors. Illya had seen her earlier in the evening, and had repressed his desire to seek her out and speak with her.

Now, here she stood as all the men in the room admired her entrance, and Napoleon greeted her with a grin that betrayed his attraction to the lovely brunette.

“Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, I believe you will remember the Baroness Bibi De Chasseur. She was present at the … um…. event, this evening.”

Bibi had kept her married title in the wake of the Baron De Chasseur’s unfortunate demise. It was, in fact, at the hands of UNCLE agents who had rescued her from THRUSH. Mark Slade and Illya Kuryakin, to be exact, had been responsible for her widowhood, something for which she remained grateful.

For Illya, the Galatea Affair had been one of considerable obstacles, not the least of which the attempted transformation of a Brooklyn barmaid into the image of the very same Countess that stood before them now. The mission had been a success, toppling yet another THRUSH plot and ridding the Baroness of her duplicitous husband. There had been a glimmer of attraction between them, but later Illya had noted Mark’s infatuation with her and stepped away. It was Napoleon who had scored the first date, however, leaving Mark slightly morose over it and unwilling to interfere with his superior’s social life.

Now, looking at Bibi, Illya was remembering tennis lessons and lunch in the garden. She was a delightful woman, really, and when he had spotted her earlier in the evening, it never occurred to him that she might be involved somehow.

Napoleon rose from his seat and took Bibi’s hand, brushing it lightly with his lips and wondering if perhaps the evening was not a complete loss.

“Bibi, my dear, you look lovely as usual.”

Bibi accepted the greeting with her usual grace, nodding to Illya as he also rose to pull out her chair. He chose the one in between his and Napoleon’s, circumventing his friend’s expected move to monopolize the lovely woman’s presence.

The maneuvering was interrupted by a harrumph from Mr. Waverly, his patience being tempered but not completely without limits.

“Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin, are you quite done? If so, we should proceed.”

Napoleon raised an eyebrow and squirmed only a little, the subtle reprimand observed and noted.

“Ah, sir, what exactly is it that Bibi… the Baroness, has to do with this affair? I’m a little unclear on where this is leading.”

Illya wondered the same thing, especially since Bibi had been at the Mercury event. She must have been in on this from the beginning, and with only Wavelry’s knowledge.

The old man opened a file and passed it to his number one.

“This, Mr. Solo, is why the Baroness is here with us now. Please take note of the man in the photograph with our guest.”

Napoleon did indeed take note, and passed the folder to his partner. Illya was surprised to see Bibi in the company of a known THRUSH operative, one of considerable influence. He had thought her done with that organization of criminals.

Bibi could practically read the agents’ minds, and spoke up in an effort to clear the air of any misconceptions.

“Napoleon, Illya…’

Bibi looked from one to the other, her expression serious.

“I have been working for UNCLE for the past few months. Alexander, mmm Mr. Waverly, contacted me and ask if I would be willing to make some contacts socially in order to ferret out any information regarding exactly this type of situation. Since I operate in a rather rare stratosphere of wealthy individuals, I was able to attract that element of THRUSH that is removed from the ordinary worker, if you will.”

Waverly joined in on the narrative now, his eyebrows rising in cadence to his speech.

“The Baroness made contact with Andrew Fitzsimmons, a member of the House of Lords. He sometimes works for THRUSH, providing information and names for the hierarchy, usually men who are in compromising situations and ripe for blackmail. He is just one of several like him, entitled and spoiled, without conscience when it comes to this type of traitorous behavior.’

Wavelry paused, his distaste for the man palpable to the others in the room.

“In any case, he is involved somehow with this Mercury Diamond business, and was in the room tonight when the gem disappeared. It is now up to you three to find the diamond and expose Lord Fitzsimmons once and for all.”

Napoleon and Illya each turned towards Bibi, each man wondering why their superior had chosen to keep her involvement from them. There seemed to be no end to the Old Man’s secrets, and even at his age they included harboring rendezvous with beautiful women.

“Sir, do you have any suggestions for how we are to proceed?”

Napoleon had to ask, although he anticipated rather accurately the answer he received.

“Mr. Solo, I daresay you and Mr. Kuryakin are well able to construct a plan that will do the job and thwart THRUSH’s plans for the diamond, whatever they might be. I suggest you go to it, man. Dismissed.”

With that last word the head of UNCLE Northwest turned his chair around and began looking at a screen that now showed a map of Southeast Asia.

Illya rose first and pulled back Bibi’s chair as Napoleon took her hand and escorted her through the doors and out into the corridor beyond the office. Illya walked somewhat behind, lagging in enthusiasm as well as speed. He wasn’t entirely sure how to respond to all of this, but respond they all must.

An English Lord, a world class diamond and the Baroness. Illya wondered what other surprises awaited him and Napoleon.