Sorry this is dreadfully late.

“Are you familiar with this incident, Mr. Solo?”
Mr. Waverly spun the table, sending a file around to Napoleon. A newspaper clipping rested on top. The photo captured the grim remains of a Brooklyn rowhouse, the headline announcing one person killed.
“I read the story. A gas line explosion, wasn't it? How does that relate to UNCLE?”
“Because it was not a gas line that exploded. It was this.” Mr. Waverly projected an image on the screen. It appeared to be a small scrap of colorful, charred silk.
( Read more... )

“Are you familiar with this incident, Mr. Solo?”
Mr. Waverly spun the table, sending a file around to Napoleon. A newspaper clipping rested on top. The photo captured the grim remains of a Brooklyn rowhouse, the headline announcing one person killed.
“I read the story. A gas line explosion, wasn't it? How does that relate to UNCLE?”
“Because it was not a gas line that exploded. It was this.” Mr. Waverly projected an image on the screen. It appeared to be a small scrap of colorful, charred silk.
( Read more... )