First posted: 27th December 01

Illya was busy filling in an expense form when agent Davidson entered, carrying an envelope.

"Mr Kuryakin, this was left for you at the front entrance." He said holding up the envelope in his hand. Illya looked at it with suspicion. "Don't worry, it's been checked out. It won't blow up in your face."

"Well that's always good to hear."

"Listen don't forget Mr Solo's coming all the way from New York to brief you on a mission. Do you know him?"

"Only by reputation."

"They were always talking about him at the survival school. A womaniser, and a hotshot, a real man's man. I wonder if he lives up to his reputation."

"Oh I shouldn't think so. It sounds like over compensation to me."

"Excuse me?"

"According to a brilliant but underrated psychologist Klaus Ottoman, men often described as aggressively heterosexual, i.e. those whose encounters with the opposite sex are both shallow and numerous, are often overcompensating for their lack of desire towards the aforementioned females."

The agent left the office dazed and confused, no doubt by the images Illya had planted about Mr Solo. Illya was a little wary about meeting the man. He felt sure that the man would not live up to his reputation and felt no remorse about bursting the young agents' illusions about him. He looked at the envelope on his desk; and his mind wandered back to several months before.

Illya Kuryakin was sitting eating in the cafeteria of East Berlin Headquarters when he noticed a young lady with dark brown hair enter. A sudden hush came over the entire room as the agents and secretaries became aware of her. Illya was confused by their behaviour.

He hadn't been assigned to the labs here very long, he was a fairly new recruit. The Chief Enforcement Agent had promised to use him out in the field more often and he was rather pleased about that. He did find his lab work very rewarding, but he did like to get outside of headquarters once in a while.

The woman having collected her lunch was looking for an empty seat to eat her meal. Although there were many empty seats available, people blocked her from sitting on their half-empty tables, motioning as though they were already taken, or were being kept for their friends. Illya watched as she sat down by herself at a completely empty table. Illya didn't understand. Even in his first few days at U.N.C.L.E. he had never been treated so badly. He had expected to. In fact he had received certain jibes and threats, but never something on this scale. Once she started eating at her table, the talking began again, at a quieter level, as though they were discussing her.

"What's going on?" Illya asked one of his neighbours at the table.

"It is far better you do not know," replied Helga, one of the secretaries.

"But I don't understand. Why is she being treated like that? What has she done?" He asked.

"She is a liar and a tramp," said a field agent, Hans Mueller with distaste. "You should keep out of it Russian, or things will become unpleasant for you."

Illya was about to speak again, when he noticed the girl getting up to leave, apparently she'd had enough of the cold front she was getting. Once she left the room the talking returned to it's normal level, though Illya barely noticed as he got up to follow her.

"Excuse me Fraulin, please wait a moment," he shouted at her, as he saw her running down the corridor.

She spun around to face him. "You should not speak to me, it would be bad for you."

"Why do they treat you like that? No one will talk to me about you."

"We should not be seen together. It is dangerous."

"I would not make trouble for you."

"I thank you for your concern, but I meant it is dangerous for you."

"I can take care of myself."

She looked around them quickly; there was nobody there. "Come with me," she said as she took hold of his hand. He followed her down to the bottom floor of the files section.

"Do you like it?" she asked motioning towards the room, "This is where I work. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say."

"You haven't answered my questions."

"You are the Russian?"

"I'm Illya Kuryakin and you are…?"

"Greta Kluger."

"Please tell me what is going on."

After taking a steadying breath she began to speak, "Just over a year ago I was sent to Coventry."

Illya listened and coaxed as she reluctantly spoke of being raped by Oscar von Hauser, the Chief of Operations nephew, who was a well-respected field agent. She talked about how when she'd reported it to her superiors, no one had believed her story. Oscar had been with U.N.C.L.E. for years and was well-liked, not to mention that he had relatives in high places. She on the other hand had been working there six months and had kept very much to herself. Illya was deeply saddened by her story. More so when she told him about the baby that had been born as a result of the rape, and had been taken in by her parents to raise.

Illya spoke up at last, "But surely paternity tests would show he was the father of the child?"

"But what would that prove? That we'd slept together, nothing more; most people believe that part of it anyway. What people tend to dismiss as lies, is that he raped me."

"No doctors reports?"

"I had doctors reports, they examined me at U.N.C.L.E. after it happened. Those reports disappeared, as did the footage from the surveillance cameras; the agents here are not amateurs you know."

"What happened to Oscar?"

"They transferred him to another headquarters."

"Such a crime, warranted dismissal." Illya asked shocked by the injustice. "Why do you stay here?"

"Pride. If I leave they have won. It would be admitting that I lied when I said I was raped by Oscar."

"But I don't understand why this is allowed to go on."

"Officially it isn't."

"What I mean is, U.N.C.L.E. is supposed to do good. Those within its ranks are supposed to do good."

"It contains people doesn't it? Wherever there are people, there are people willing to do bad things."

"So what are we going to do?"

"We will do nothing. I will continue to be shunned and you will forget this conversation ever took place."

"But there must be something we can do."

"I have absolute faith that deep down these people are good. Eventually they will realise I was telling the truth and they will regret what they have done. I thank you for speaking to me tonight, but tomorrow you must not or you may be shunned also."

"If that is what you wish."

"It is."

Despite her warnings Illya continued to meet with Greta in secret, at lunch and after work. Over the next few weeks Greta and he became friends. Close friends in fact. Illya decided he didn't want her to suffer anymore by East Berlin's treatment and they arranged to elope and get married. Illya had put in for a transfer to London once they'd made their decision to marry. The day before they were due to slip away, Greta failed to show up for their lunch meeting. Later that afternoon, Illya was summoned to a meeting with the Chief Enforcement Agent.

"Mr Kuryakin, I have good news for you. Your transfer has come through; you leave for London tomorrow."

Illya smelled a rat, "That was very efficient. I only put in the request two days ago."

"A post has just appeared at London Headquarters, requiring someone with your special talents. You were very lucky to get it. Opportunities like these are few and far between."

"I suppose they are. I suggest you inform the secretary to make travel arrangements for two."

"Why? Who are you taking with you?"

"My fiancée."

"That wouldn't be the lovely Greta would it?"

"How did you know?"

"The rumours have been circulating for weeks now. I don't think Greta will be up to travelling with you though."

"I don't understand."

"You mean you hadn't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Greta was taken into hospital last night, suffering from an overdose of sleeping pills. They pumped her stomach and she's okay now, but I imagine she'll have months of counselling before she can go anywhere."

"I want to see her."

"Very well, I'll take you to her."

The Chief Enforcement Agent drove, while Illya pondered Greta's attempted suicide. He couldn't understand why she'd done it. She'd seemed happy enough when he left her yesterday.

"You don't seem too unhappy to see me leave."

"Well, what did you expect? That I would burst into tears and beg you to stay; you would have caused me trouble had you remained here."

"How?"

"The other agents are aware of your relationship with Greta. Oscar was their friend. Had you wanted to stay, I could not have put you out in the field. I couldn't trust my agents to watch your back. You should have been more careful. They were hostile enough about your heritage, without you adding fuel to their fire."

"Greta should not be treated like that. She did nothing wrong."

"You know that for sure do you?"

"I can tell when someone is speaking the truth."

"Truth like beauty is in the eye of the beholder. You have heard only one version of events. Perhaps before you commit yourself to a course of action you may regret, I should provide you with the other version of the events, as told by Oscar."

"I'm not interested in hearing lies."

"An UNCLE agent should always be prepared to listen to a statement, even if he may not like what it reveals."

The Chief Enforcement agent parked the car and the two men got out. After hearing the alternative version of events, Illya was deep in thought, trying to come to terms with what he'd heard.

The other man made himself scarce while Illya went to Greta's bedside.

"Greta why did you do it? I thought you were happy."

Tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. "I was happy."

"Then what happened?"

"You walked in and accused me of trying to kill myself. How could you think that of me?"

"You mean…?"

"It is dangerous for you to be here. Please leave."

"I can take care of myself."

"I meant it is dangerous for me. Leave me alone, haven't you done enough?"

Illya left in a hurry. On the drive back to headquarters, the Chief Enforcement Agent tried to engage him in conversation.

"So when will she be joining you?"

"She won't."

"I thought you were getting married?"

"We were and now we're not."

"It's probably for the best. If you'd married her, you wouldn't have been allowed in the field."

Illya turned slowly towards the agent, giving him a cold frozen look. "Do you think I would have cared about that? I loved her."

The other man fell silent at that, not knowing how to respond.

Illya packed his bags and headed for London Headquarters the next day.

Now months later he sat looking at the envelope. In big bold lettering across the front, 'Not at this address. Return to sender' and Greta's name and address was crossed out. He recognised it as the last letter he had written to her. He had sent along with the letter, as much money as he could spare.

He phoned records.

"I don't suppose you've managed to trace the missing person I asked you about?"

"I'm afraid not. After she left the hospital she and her family left their home and we could find no trace of any of them."

"Keep looking. An entire family can't just disappear."

"Oh how did your meeting with Mr Solo go?"

"It was fine."

"How was he?"

"Given the right training and allowing for a certain amount of psychoanalysis I'm sure he'll become a fine agent one day." He made no further explanations, knowing that office gossip was very efficient and the person on the other end of the line would already be aware of his earlier discussion with young Davidson.

Unknown to him, in another part of the building Mr Solo was contacting his superior, one Alexander Waverly regarding a promising young agent he had met in the London office. His words in fact were a parody of those already spoken by the young Kuryakin. The tides of change were manoeuvring to bring the two agents together, into a partnership the like of which had never been seen before at UNCLE.

Several dozens of miles away a young woman's body was washed up on a German beach. She couldn't be identified. No one came forward to claim the body, which fit the description of Greta Kluger. With a heavy heart Illya gave up his search for her.

The End

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