Man from U.N.C.L.E. Section VII

The lights were out, and I thought that odd.

“Surprise! Happy Birthday Illya!”

My heart went up into my throat. Why did he do this when I specifically asked...no told Napoleon that I did not want any birthday nonsense?

As I looked around at the decorations, saw all the smiling faces and smelled the aroma of food. I knew a lot of trouble had been taken to do this for me. I looked over at Napoleon who merely shrugged.

He handed me a shot of vodka, wishing me happy birthday.

“S dnem ​​rozhdeniya, moy drug.” Solo flashed me one of his charming smiles.

“What could I do? Now was not the time or the place for an argument, much less a fist fight which was something I could easily start with the way I was feeling at the moment.

“Spasibo,” I raised my glass to him. “I will get even with you later my friend.”

“Moi?” Napoleon said.”This actually wasn’t my doing, but now’s not the time. You have your adoring fans who await you with good wishes and gifts.”

I put on my best face, nodding as people came up to me, shaking my hand, kissing me on the cheek and handing me small gift boxes...though some were not. I eyed them suspiciously, hoping they were not any of those loud ski sweaters that a few of the ladies in the secretarial pool insist upon knitting for me. There was card after card...

Napoleon took each from my hands one by one and placed them on a nearby table as the music began to play. At first there was wonderful Russian music being played, it was balalaikas...Kalinka!  Then came Russian gypsy music. Such memories!

The mirror ball, used for special celebrations at headquarters was lowered down, illuminated by spotlights of varying colors.  It filled the room with a thousand points of light as people began to dance.

April came up to me, positively glowing with exuberance and planted a kiss on my lips.

“Happy birthday you mad Russian...well don’t be mad at me. Everyone deserves to have a happy birthday. Now come on and dance with me?”

I begged off, trying to be as gracious as possible, instead choosing to head toward the buffet that had been set up. I was hungry, after all we were supposed to have been having lunch, though that was now obviously part of the ruse to get me here.

The food I had to admit, was enticing. Whoever had done the catering had all sorts of Russian foods here along with plenty of American ones. There was lamb-kebab Shashlik, something I had not had in very long time, as well as blini, borscht, creamed potatoes, golubtsy and so much more!

For a moment, being surrounded by all this Russian food made me feel a bit homesick, though home never had such plenty as this. I suddenly found myself missing people, my people and speaking my native language on a daily basis. Who was I kidding, that would never be my life again?

Still, no matter how acclimated I had become to living here in the United States, I was still a stranger in a strange land. Yet here I was surrounded by people who were wishing only good things for me, people who thought of themselves as my friends.  That was something I did not want to admit, except when it came to my partner.

I was being rude to them all and I decided it was time to fake it for their sakes, not mine.

I smiled.

“That’s more like it darling,” April came up to me just as I just stuffed a pelmeni into my mouth.

“Don’t try to talk, eat. Enjoy yourself. It’s your birthday.”