Upon arriving at the St.Ives estate, the three can easily spot the oddly modest amount of butlers waiting infront of the door. It was not a surprise that some of them were not there given that they are also U.N.C.L.E. agents, but someone very important was missing and it bothered them. The gate opened and Nallya rounded up the car to the front door. Illya got out of the car to get Napoleon's wheelchair and Nallya helped him get on it.

As they approach the bottom of the stairs, the three recieved a collective hello and an atmosphere that was almost too edgy. Some of them started helping get Napoleon up the steps.

"Where is Mama Agata?" Illya asked, trying to incite a reaction or better yet an answer.

"She's-she passed along some of the others, Mr.König.. During the breach four days ago, when you were away." One of the seemingly brave enough to answer butlers, Bowie, spoke up.

"How did we not hear about this?" Once they got Napoleon's chair up the steps, Nallya pushed him into the house and Illya spoke to the rest of the staff.

"We tried to reach you with the telephone and with letters to where you were staying, sir. Have you not gotten the letters?" Bowie solicitously probed.

"No. We did not get any letters... Why don't you tell me everything that happened later on when you get back. I'll go tend to my brothers.. and tell everyone else to take the rest of the day and tomorrow off. I'm sure you are all traumatized by the incident. On second thought, write everything down on paper and leave it in my study. Have a good day, Bowie."" Illya gave the man a pat on the back and send him on his way.

"Yes, sir. Oh, and sir?"

"Mhm?"

"I don't mean to intrude, but what happened to Sir. Eliot?"

"He had an accident during his practice run for the race."

"I hope he gets better just in time for the grand prix."

"I'll make sure to tell him that."

______________________

Illya wasted no time to get to Napoleon and Nallya only to find them sitting at the bottom of the staircase.

"You're going to have to carry him." She began, standing up from one of the steps and dusting off her slacks. She starts folding the wheelchair and looked at Illya expectantly.

"What? He can walk on his own." He looks at Napoleon and Napoleon looks at him simpering, knowing he'd get carried to his room either way.

"Oh sure.. I guess the car he was riding when he crashed will give him a lift." Nallya came back with sarcastic rejoinder.

"No. He's right, I don't see anyone around" She goes along with his decision and nods, bringing up the wheelchair with her. It was a quiet first three steps until Illya sighed and swooped the unexpecting Napoleon into his arms and began walking up. Nallya tried to bite down a laugh.

"See? It's not any different than carrying a bride."
Napoleon refuted.

"Don't make me drop you, Solo." Illya warned, huffing.

".. I don't. remember. you being this heavy."

"Illya, you do not comment on people's weight" Nallya scolded him jokingly, but the humor went over his head.

"I'm not- I am not. I did not mean it that way and you know that. My mother taught me to be.. tolerable. He's a beautiful man and I would never."

"Calling me pretty doesn't make up for your insult, Kuryakin" Napoleon teases. Unbeknownst to him that they were already on top of the stairs, Illya dropped with an exceedingly loud thud.

"Whoops. It seems that my arms got weak all of the sudden."

"Uugh... mhmm. Totally deserved that."Napoleon groaned. Nallya set up his wheelchair and he stood up to get to it when the bell rang.

A pitter patter of feet got louder until it stopped just below where they were standing.

They all listened carefully.

"Hi, sorry to be a bother. I'm Camilla Irving, James' Fiancée." The three looked at each other.

"Who? A fiancée?" Napoleon mouthed.

"My what?" Illya replied throwing his hands up in confusion. Not because he didn't understand what a fiancée was, but because he didn't know where that fiancée came from.

Quietly, Nallya took a peek from inbetween the wooden railing of the stairs and got back just as quickly to not risk being seen if it was an enemy.

"It's Peggy. You're Fiancée is Peggy"

"I do not understand the obsession of this agency to engage me with a woman everytime we are to be undercover. No, change that, I am beginning to think this is some form of torture to prove my allegiance."

"Torture? She seems like a very lovely woman, Illya. I don't think you have to worry about her being in your nerves... or proving your allegiance."

"Easy for you to say, you basically have men and women for meals."

"Hey. That is uncalled for."

"Are you two done playing married? Because Iain is not going to let her in anytime soon. Get down there"

"What she said." Instead of being sulkily offended, Illya clears his throat and started making his way back down.

"Oh, 'lechka?"

"Mhm?"He turns his head around.

"To answer your question, it's because women like tall men who look soft. You just meet the criteria for husband material."

"I am not soft, I am deadly." Illya corrected defensively. Napoleon wasn't having any of it.
"Not a bad thing to be both."

"Stupid people.. I'm not soft I am manly. I kill people for a living. Soft." Illya mumbles under his breath as he jogged down the stair and pretending to be surprised to see Peggy.

"What did he say?" Nallya asked.

"I think something along the lines of 'Stupid people'. You know. The whole Illya monologue when he's with new people."

"Oh. He does that a lot."

______________________________

Peggy got into the house and debriefed them on what her cover was and how it's connected to the trio's family. Camilla Elizabeth Irving attended the University of Georgia in Ukraine a few years back where she met James König, when he was a guest speaker in her school. The two took interest in each other and started dating until James had to get back to his duties as a war pilot. They exchanged letters and telephone calls for years without breaking communication. Eventually, James came back for her and proposed.

"Now if you excuse me, before I forget, I'll go get my luggages. Where can I put them?"

"It is being taken care of and you will be staying in my room. It is five doors down to the right when you use the right side of the staircase. "

"Lovely... Nallya, dear, if you don't mind. Can I speak with you for a moment?" There was a pause and Peggy looks at Napoleon and Illya for permission to exit the room.

Confused, Nallya agreed and the two men left the room looking completely baffled.

"About the current mission, Waverly had asked me to tell you that we have to check out an island overnight."

"Without the Napoleon and Illya?" Peggy produced a note from her pocket and handed it over.

"Safety in numbers, I suppose. Mr. Solo is injured after all."She replied.

"That is logical... Do you happen to know which island?"Nallya hums.

"I believe we're supposed to be dropped off at the Isles of Scilly, a boat ride away to the left
of Great Ganilly."

"That's one of the Eastern Isles, is it not? I thought nobody lives there... or so I have read.." Nallya unfolds the paper and a photograph drops to her feet. Quickly she picks it up and flips it over.

"I thought so too. But the same men who kidnapped you are running an operation under the islands. I didn't believe Waverly when he told me that the Russians and Americans are working together."

"Who is this?"

"That's the Fleet Admiral of Sweden."

"What is a Swedish Navy Admiral doing getting mixed with those clowns...."