section7mfu | The Hat Trick

The blond was puzzled and slightly amused by what he was viewing. It would never have occurred to Illya that his suave and sophisticated partner, Napoleon Solo, had a penchant for Western wear. Neither would it have been his first inclination to imagine the number one agent in the U.N.C.L.E. had photographs of himself decked out like one of the heroes in an American television show.

"Napoleon... "
The tone of his voice was an immediate clue to the one being called upon; the Russian had that sing-song lilt infused into those four syllables.

"What is it, I'm sort of ..."
Napoleon had risen from his chair to see what his partner was looking at even as he feigned indifference. What he saw stopped him cold.

"Where did you get that?"

"I hardly think that is the question begging an answer. What is it? That is the real curiosity here, my friend."

Napoleon's head hung down as though a sentence had been pronounced on a guilty man. Illya's amusement only added to the discomfort of the moment, but Napoleon determined to be forthcoming.

"I was once sent to the West Coast to answer a casting call for a dubious film maker. Waverly was convinced that the man's film was a front for a THRUSH plot to insert subliminal messages that would influence an audience to surrender to whatever the Hierarchy might devise. This was one of my head shots ... for my portfolio."

Illya nodded his head knowingly. Holding the photograph up so they could both see it clearly, he turned it first one way and then another, scrutinizing it as though it might speak to him somehow. Finally he pointed out something in the edge of the hat brim.

"Here, see that?''

Napoleon edged a little closer, intent on the spot that Illya pointed to.

"Well ... I'll be darned. I never knew that was there."

"It seems Mr. Waverly did not want you hired after all. He was merely testing the possibilities, perhaps."

Napoleon was thoughtful as he considered that it was he who had been the guinea pig in an effort to play a better game than THRUSH.

"So, he sent me in there with a No Win scenario in place, but for what purpose? The casting director did like me, and she said I was almost certain to get the part. It surprised me when I never heard back, and was subsequently told to return to New York."

Illya considered that for a bit, his mind sorting through the peculiar set up. It was before his time, but it seemed that UNCLE had utilized something that would eventually find its way into popular culture and advertising.

"I think he just wanted to prove a point, Napoleon. You should have had the part, I have no doubt. But, the longer they looked at this photograph and this message sank into their subconscious ... well, you didn't stand a chance."

Napoleon agreed. He didn't totally understand it, but Illya was probably right. Sometimes Mr. Waverly just had to win on a small scale in order to pave the way for the greater battles. Still, He wondered at the choice of phrase on the hat.

"Why do you think he had this put on there? I mean, why this particular phrase?"

Illya chuckled, imagining how uncomfortable the room full of THRUSH personnel might have felt to have the phrase emblazoned on their subconscious minds. What is amazing is that it all fit on that small sliver of light edge on the brim of Napoleon's hat. He read it aloud...

"I walked in the woodland meadows, Where sweet the thrushes sing, And found on a bed of mosses, A bird with a broken wing."

Napoleon still had a question.

"So, where did you find this photograph Illya?"

The Russian merely smiled.