ACT I: "What? No Champagne?"  

Princess Carina Contessa Antonia DeNunzio stepped from the private jet into the bright glare of the morning sun and immediately slipped her designer sunglasses over her dark, sultry eyes. It wouldn't do to squint and risk any damage to her fresh make up. She paused at the top of the stairs and made her pose look unintentional. Her thigh protruded gracefully from the slit in her skirt, a skirt that was shorter than her parents would allow in their presence. The outfit they had her wear when she boarded the jet was stashed in the jet restroom.

Princess Tessa, as she was known, smugly swept her eyes over the tarmac, her lower lip in a pout and knowing every eye in the area was on her. She held her pose a bit longer.

"Kiki," she said boredly as she let her haughty gaze return to the open hatch of the plane. "It looks like we have arrived. Are you ready?"

Kiki oozed around the corner of the hatch, her chin in a similar haughty angle. Her chest was thrown out to show off the creamy white skin that topped her straining cleavage that was framed in a low-slung neckline. Her top was like a second skin and tucked into similarly snug white bell-bottoms encircled with a belt of wide rings at the waist. She posed nonchalantly next to her friend.

"Yes, I suppose," she sighed as she tossed her long, straight hair over her shoulder and adjusted her identical designer sunglasses on her nose.

The girls were well rehearsed and the urge to giggle was well suppressed. With a toss of her aristocratic chin Princess Tessa descended the stairs. Half way down she flicked her hand lazily at a pair of uniformed attendants standing at the bottom.

"Take our bags to the car, will you gentlemen?" She said in a tone that was years older than her actual age.

"Yes, miss," one of them replied with a short bow. As Tessa and Kiki stepped to the tarmac, the attendants dashed up the steps.

The Princess turned to face a limo that approached them. Kiki's voice whispered in her ear, tight with refrained laughter. "I think I'm allergic to the tissues I stuffed my bra with. It itches!"

Tessa choked and fought to maintain her dignified expression, glad for the sunglasses that covered her eyes. "Don’t make me laugh! My mascara will run!" She replied in a controlled giggle. Her lipstick was fresh and thick and she didn't want to smear any of it.

"Tessa, if our parents saw us now we'd be grounded for the rest of our lives," Kiki said with a newly maintained bored-looking expression. She struck a pose next to her friend. They both managed to look more aristocratic than they felt.

The limo pulled up and the driver leaped out and ran around to open the door for them. Kiki slipped in and momentarily caught her heel on the door edge. Tessa surveyed the driver.

"Where's Marco?" She asked pointedly, giving Kiki time to free her heel.

"He is sick, Miss. I am his replacement, Richard."

"Richard? I wasn't informed." Tessa turned her nose up and looked back for one of the uniformed attendants. She struggled to recall the older looking one's name that had been stitched on his jacket.  "Why didn't . . . Michael . . . tell me?" Inwardly she was relieved she remembered the name.

"He should have, Princess. Here he comes now."

The attendants struggled their way down the stairs with four huge bags that bordered on being steamer trunks. It was comical to watch, but Tessa maintained her composure by mentally conjugating the past tense verb forms for the German word 'play'. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, winded, she asked coolly, "Why didn't you inform me about Marco? My father will be very upset."

"Sorry, Miss," Michael gasped. "I only heard myself."

"Fine. Load the bags." Tessa slipped onto the seat next to the newly untangled Kiki and Richard closed the door. Kiki nodded toward the front seat. There was another man in the front passenger seat.

"Security," Tessa mouthed to her friend. Then, in a louder voice, "Um, excuse me. Could you raise the glass, please?"

"Yes, Princess." The man pressed a button and a thick glass slid up between the compartments.

Kiki let out a relieved giggle. "This is so decadent! I feel years older! Do my eyes still look all right?" She removed the sunglasses and touched the side of her face.

The car bounced as the men wrestled with the bags. Tessa slipped her glasses off and looked at her friend. Her eyes glittered with excitement. "They look terrific! Did you remember to pack the magazine away? I want to copy the make up on that other page tomorrow!"

"Yes, it's safe. How many days until your dad gets here? I want to find a skirt like yours!"

"We have three days of freedom, and I plan to take full advantage." Tessa settled back in her seat and looked out of the window. "New York and no one to hold us back! This will be a trip to remember, Kiki!"

The driver finally slammed the trunk and made his way to his seat, slightly breathless from the wrestling match with the bags.  He shut the door and dropped the car into drive.

Tessa fingered the intercom. "Take us to Bloomingdale's, please." She asked.

The response was immediate. "Sorry, Princess, but my orders are to check you into your quarters first. Your father wants to know you've safely arrived."

Tessa sighed. "Fine." Her tone sounded more like the spoiled teenager she really was. She closed the intercom with a snap.

Kiki, who had been investigating the small bar, frowned. "There's not even any Champagne back here! They're more prepared than we thought. Do you think they're expecting us to try and sneak off?"

"What? No Champagne?" Her forehead furrowed in thought. "That's odd. I'm sure I convinced my dad that we'd be good girls. We'll just have to see, I guess." She grinned at her friend. "I'm sure we can out think these guys."

At the plane the attendants watched the car pull away. Michael pulled a walkie talkie from his coat pocket. "Target is on her way," he said, still wheezing from the luggage loading. He tucked the device away and turned to his partner who was leaning on the stair rail and also catching his breath. "We still need to take the driver and security men's bodies somewhere and dump them where they won't be found."

The second man tiredly fixed his eyes on Michael. "Does Thrush have any idea what they're dealing with? Those girls are going to be a handful. I know. I have a teenage daughter."

Michael laughed. "The day Thrush can't handle two little girls is the day I quit the organization. Come on." He slapped his partner on the shoulder and they moved away to complete their duties.

ACT II: "Discreet Is My Middle Name."

Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin arrived at Mr. Waverly's office within seconds of each other even though they came from different parts of the building. Illya made his way up from the bowels of the lab in steady, sure time while his partner made it from the office down the hall while obtaining lunch and dinner dates for the next few days.

They acknowledged each other with familiar nods when their paths intersected outside Waverly's office. Lisa Rogers immediately let them into Waverly's inner sanctum. Kuryakin plopped down and immediately opened the file on the table whereas Solo settled into his seat gracefully and leaned back with a relaxed air about him.

"I take it you gentlemen had a restful weekend?" The head of the New York UNCLE office stood at his desk with a handful of files. His bushy eyebrows hung over eyes that did not bother to seek out his two top agents when he heard them enter. Waverly's mind was already many steps ahead in this meeting.

"Yes, sir. At least I did," Solo replied with a smile.

Kuryakin didn't look up from the files. "Yes, sir, thank you. Is this the Prince that is coming to New York for the trade conference?" He picked up a sheet of paper and read as he spoke.

"Yes, it is." Waverly turned and set his files on the main table.

"Er, what trade conference?" Solo asked slowly as he straightened his cuff.

"The one taking place here in New York in two days," Illya said without looking up. "Don't you listen to the news?"

Solo cleared his throat. "Only if it's read to me over breakfast." The blond agent threw him a glance, then shook his head and grinned slightly.

Waverly began the brief by handing Solo a black and white 8 by 10 of a man decked in a military uniform. "Prince Antonio Carlo DeNunzio, head of the European Trade Federation, is due to arrive in New York tomorrow morning. He sent his daughter and a friend of hers ahead, thinking New York would be a safe place to see how she handled herself on her own. Apparently she has what he calls a rather strong independent spirit."

"How old is this Princess?" Solo inquired brightly. Illya passed a pair of photos from the file in front of him. Solo's eyes immediately brightened.

"Princess Carina Contessa Antonia DeNunzio is seventeen, as is her friend and traveling companion, Marika Victoria Verdano VanAdlesberg."

Solo glanced at the second photo. "I'd hate to sign those names everyday."

"Yes, I suppose. Now to the point, gentlemen. It seems the girls have disappeared."

Kuryakin closed the file and gave his boss his full attention. "In New York, I assume."

"That is what the family believes. The Princess's jet landed this morning. The clothes she was wearing when she left Europe were in the lavatory of the jet. Witnesses say a limo picked her and her friend up on the tarmac. They were supposed to be taken directly to their hotel, but never arrived."

"Is this her first time in New York?" Solo asked.

"This is her first time out of Europe," Waverly replied. "But she's well schooled in English, and would be able to get around quite well on her own. She's an aficionado of the American lifestyle, I understand. Quite enamored with American culture."

"I guess there are worse hobbies," Kuryakin commented. "So why is UNCLE involved?"

"UNCLE is being used to monitor the conference, as we are considered a neutral, international agency. Each participant has it's own security, but UNCLE is to handle the security of the conference. No one anticipated this event, and the conference board has decided to turn it over to us since we are familiar with the participants. The security man assigned to the Princess, and her assigned driver, are also missing, so the Prince does not trust his own security at this point."

"So we're to find the girls and bring them home." Solo pursed his lips. "Sounds a little too simple."

"Nothing is ever simple where you and females are involved," Kuryakin said flatly. "Where do we start?"

"The Prince's part in the conference was about regulating seaports and setting up a universal set of standards and rules for the countries in this group that use them. If someone is trying to control his vote, we need to know who it is." The Old Man drummed his fingers on the table. "It is unlikely the girl has taken off on her own, but not out of the realm of possibility. We will handle this as a kidnapping until we know otherwise. No one else in the conference knows of the disappearance, and the Prince would like to keep it that way."

The partners rose to their feet. "I guess we start with the list of participants," Solo said as he picked up the file in front of Kuryakin.

"And gentlemen," Waverly started. "I don't have to remind you to be discreet, do I?"

" 'Discreet' is my middle name," Solo said brightly as he paused at the door. Illya's smirk caught his attention. "Well it's certainly not yours," the dark haired agent teased. "You can't walk two feet without tripping."

"At least I don't sound like an elephant when I walk."

"Elephant?" Solo pushed open the door. "More like a cheetah, I would think."

"One with club feet," his partner countered as they left the room.

When the door to his office shut, Waverly slowly shook his head in amazement and returned to his paperwork, glad for a moment of quiet.

*********

Tessa and Kiki were in heaven.

"I had no idea your dad was so cool," Kiki said yet again with the same enthusiasm. "A real American spa!"

"It is rather a surprise," Tessa sighed. "I was sure it would be one of those stuffy, old hotels again.

"This sure isn't like any spa at home. Look at the muscles on that guy!"

The girls were sitting on the small balcony of their room, which overlooked an indoor pool that was landscaped to look like a lagoon. The rooms were small but lavish, and the girls had been thrilled to find a welcome basket of fruit and champagne waiting for them.

They were already on their second glass, and feeling tingly all over.

"I guess the 'No Alcohol' order from daddy didn't make it here. We must look mature or they'd never give us this Champagne. I know my father wouldn't approve." Tessa giggled and took another swallow.  "We must use makeup more often!"

"Oh, look!" Kiki nearly upset her glass when she quickly stood, but didn't notice. "I think there's a discotheque down there! I love this place!"

Tessa joined her at the rail and they giggled uncontrollably as they leaned over the railing. Next to the pool a small disco was acting as an outdoor café for the lunch crowd. The doors were thrown open to the pool and the small tables and dance floor inside were clearly visible. The girls happily commented on each and every person they could see.

"I've only been to one spa at home. You know the place - all the attendants were matronly women that looked like workhorses."

"Yeah, and the rooms were Oriental and bare. My dad said it was appropriate for my age. Remember when we went there together that one time?"

"How could I forget? We both tried to sneak out at were caught!" The girls collapsed in their chairs, laughing uncontrollably. Tessa raised her glass. "I like this stuff!!"

"More!"

*******

Without much to go on, Solo and Kuryakin soon found that they were at the proverbial brick wall. They were in the process of trying to locate any information on two attendants that had also disappeared from the airport. Their list of missing people was growing with no clues of where they had gone.

The warbling of Solo's communicator brought an annoyed sigh from the agent. "Now what? More people to add to the missing persons list?" He twisted the silver pen. "Solo here."

"Ah, Mr. Solo." Waverly's voice was more cheery than usual. "The Prince has heard from his daughter."

"So, she's all right? Where is she?"

"Well, that seems to be the problem. He still doesn't know."

Illya frowned. "She didn't tell him?"

"Yes and no, Mr. Kuryakin. She said she was at a spa."

"A spa?" Solo questioned.

"Yes." Their boss's tone turned disdainful. "The only detail she could share was that the male employees were  . . . ah . . . cute."

Solo smiled crookedly while Kuryakin shook his head in amazement. "Well, she is 17, sir," Solo commented. "I get the feeling there was more to this conversation?"

"Yes. The Prince says the girls don't know they've been kidnapped, and the Prince didn't tell them."

Solo looked at his communicator in surprise. Illya spoke before Solo had a chance. "How could she not know that and why didn't he tell her?" The Russian's voice sounded exasperated.

"As far as him not telling her, he didn't want to scare her and she seemed happy and healthy at the moment. He tried to get more details but he thinks she was drunk."

"Maybe she was poisoned."

"Then they slipped the poison in two bottles of Champagne. I don't think the poison was necessary in that case." Waverly was about as annoyed as Solo had ever heard him. "The Princess indicated that she and her friend were fine and happy and even thanked him for doing this for her."

"A bird in a gilded cage," Illya noted.

"There's more, Mr. Kuryakin. Within minutes of her call, the Prince received another call that threatened her safety if he did not vote as the caller dictated."

"Did the caller identify themselves?" Solo asked.

"Yes. It seems it involves our feathered friend Narcissus."

"Ah, yes. She would have an affinity to pampering." Solo said. "A spa is not surprising."

"At least you have a place to start now, Mr. Solo. Narcissus has promised safe return of the Princess if no one else is informed about the threat."

"The Prince must have great confidence in us, then." Solo said.

"Fortunately, yes. Our research on Narcissus indicates several real estate purchases worldwide in the past two years where she acted as the representative for Thrush controlled companies, four in the New York area. One is a commercial pier area, and one is undeveloped land. The other two look the most promising; old hotel properties. Here are the locations." Waverly read off two addresses that were about twenty miles apart in a rural area outside the city. "I will send other agents to check the other two locations just to be sure. And gentlemen, I emphasize the need for stealth on this case. If is tipped in anyway that UNCLE is around, the girls' lives will be in immediate danger."

"Yes, sir. Solo out." He closed the pen. "Well, off to the country we go."

ACT III: "What, Exactly, Do You Do With The Cucumbers?"

Solo's pen warbling broke into his curious thoughts about the kind of hotel that would be in the area of a town called Sleepy Hollow. The vision in his head of an Ichabod Crane bellboy was vanquished with the sound of his partner's voice.

"I'm at a very well guarded front gate of an obviously no longer abandoned hotel." A squawking in the background made Solo frown at the device. Illya spoke over it. "A small sign says the place is now called The Green Door."

"The Green Door? Can you tell what's there?"

"Well, the front door for one. And it's green." The drollness of the Russian's tone was not lost on the American.

"I see your investigative training has not been wasted." The background chatter seemed to increase. "What is that noise? If it's an alarm, I'd say it needs a little maintenance."

Perched in a tree outside the massive stone wall of the old hotel Illya Kuryakin glanced at the pair of angry squirrels berating his blocking their exit from the tree. The agent was lying on a branch with one leg hooked around the main trunk of a giant sycamore. His glance made the branch wobble and the rodents' vocal distress redoubled. "It's not a man made alarm, and I'd say the only maintenance it would appreciate is a couple of nuts."

"Too bad there's only one of you," Solo replied instantly.

Finally unnerved, the squirrels made a break for it and scampered over the agent, chattering expletives all the way to the ground. "Same to you," the treed agent mumbled.

"What?" Solo asked. "Trouble?"

"No, just nature taking its course. It looks like I can get in on the other side of the building at the servants' entry. Supply trucks seem to be making their deliveries for the day. I'll let you know what I find. Any luck on your end?"

Solo had finally come to the address given him. A weathered wooden sign, peeling to the point of near obscurity, leaned tiredly to one side indicating where he should turn. "I've only just arrived. Keep your head down."

"Will do." The pen clicked into silence, and Solo replaced it in his jacket pocket.

The rutted, overgrown drive led to a clear space. He threw the car into Park at the end of the decaying drive just outside a picket fence that was once white - or blue, depending on which picket he looked at - and was now working its way back to natural brown. Flattened to the ground to resemble a dilapidated train track, the fence did nothing to keep anything at bay. Solo opened the car door and stepped out. The texture of the ground made him quickly step aside just as the smell assaulted his nose.

Green goo encased his right shoe. Disgusted, he wrinkled his nose and wiped what he could on a dewy patch of weeds nearby.

"I'd rather deal with hostile squirrels," he mumbled at the crusted calling card of a passing cow that he'd stepped in. He straightened his jacket and tried to ignore the slimy wetness of his right sock. Solo stepped over the fence and wormed his way through a now wild expanse of hedge. He heard his jacket tear and swore silently.

The only thing that greeted him on the other side was a giant hole where he supposed the hotel had once been.

********

It didn't take Illya long to hijack a supply truck. He dropped on the roof of a box van from another accommodating sycamore, slipped into the cab and shot the driver with a sleep dart. After a rough stop, the agent dragged him into the brush, where the man was tied and gagged then stored out of sight for later retrieval.

"Break time!" Illya said cheerily. He recovered a temporary identification card, luckily without a photo, dated for today only from the driver's pocket. The tiny Thrush insignia in the corner and the words Security Level 5 piqued the agent's interest. "I wonder what it will take to upgrade to Security Level 1?" He mused.

Luck followed him as he easily passed through the servant's gate. Bored guards mechanically glanced at the ID card and at the contents of the box van. Illya drove to the unloading area and backed in close to the building. When he opened the back of the van to unload, stacks of boxes labeled 'Tampons' and 'Sanitary Napkins' awaited him.

Kuryakin hesitated then slowly leaned aside to read the side of the box van. WOMAN'S HEALTH and SANITARY SUPPLIES was written in huge, black and bold letters.

"I couldn't read the truck first," he sighed as he turned back to see what else he could unload. Aside from the boxes were crates of sickly sweet smelling soap that gave him an instant headache. Sitting in the middle was what looked like a large cooler. Curious, the agent flipped up the lid.

Cucumbers. Dozens of cucumbers. He raised his eyebrows and studied the load.

Finally he said with a shrug, "Who am I to judge?" And dropped the vegetables. The least of three evils, Illya grabbed the cooler and made his way inside.

Busy workers, easily identifiable by their sea green togas and identical high heels, bustled behind the scenes in what appeared to be a storage/distribution area. Stacks upon stacks of towels, from washcloths to beach towels, towered on tables that lined one wall. Various bars of soaps, jars of oil and tubs of facial creams took up opposite wall. Toga clad girls hunted among the stores.

"Get out of my way, Celine. I need to get by!"

"I have dibs on that box of oatmeal soap! Don't touch it, Denise!"

"Where's the portable steamer? How can I do facials without a portable steamer?"

The chatter was as constant as the action and Illya was surprised into motionlessness. Every one of the workers was female, and each female was a beauty. The agent couldn't help but grin at his moment of good fortune. A redhead, her hair piled up in a teetering bun, spied the cooler as she picked through the face creams

"Hey!" She barked as she quickly moved his way. When her eyes looked up to his face, she brightened with a delighted smile. "Hey!" She said again, this time in a sultry, sexy voice. She sidled up and slipped one arm through his elbow. "You're just too cute. Much better than the other guy." She tapped the box with her free hand and let her fingers do the walking up his chest. Her voice was low and husky. "Do you have what I need?"

"I believe so," he replied, hoping they were talking about the same thing.

She snuggled closer and led him out of the busy area. "You're just in time," she purred. "My special massage just isn't right without your load."

"Er - " He found himself at a loss for words. Her body firmly pressed into his side. "Ah, what, exactly, do you do with the cucumbers?"

She leaned in so her soft lips brushed his earlobe when she spoke. "Eyes. Slices reduce puffiness around the eyes." There was a moment of silence as she took in his relieved look. "Oh!" Her eyes opened wide when she interpreted his response. "Oh my!" She giggled and whacked his arm playfully. "You are a nasty one!"

Illya felt himself blush slightly. "Ah, not really. You should meet my partner."

The redhead sighed. "Lucky girl!"

He decided to stop while he was ahead. She guided him through an elaborate lobby, shiny with marble and chrome. An arched ceiling displayed a sparkling crystal chandelier and the hardwood accents glowed with a healthy polish. A fountain happily gurgled in the center of the alcove, surrounded by lush and potted greenery.

"We aren't supposed to be visible to the clients, but this is a shortcut. Hurry." The girl tugged on his elbow, keeping to the edge of the visible range of the clerks behind the counter in the entry. "The Miss isn't here right now, so we're in luck. Here."

Illya allowed himself to be led down a quiet hallway, then another, and then into a smaller storage area. "Put it there," the girl said. She pointed to an empty spot on the floor. "Would you like to stick around and help me slice?" Coyly, she fluttered her eyelashes and held up a knife.

"No, thank you. I have to get back to work." The girl pouted for a moment and pulled out a cucumber. She dropped it on a cutting board and whacked it cleanly with the very sharp knife. Illya cringed. "Er, what is this place, anyway, um," he noticed her nametag for the first time. Displayed so prominently upon her chest, how could he have missed it? "Debi?"

Debi was happily carving the cucumber, the rejection forgotten. "Oh, it's a retreat for some big company. Must be some big money in birds to afford all this."

"Birds?"

"Yeah. There's a little black bird logo on everything. Didn't you see it inlayed in the lobby floor in tile?"

"No, I didn't." He patted his pocket. "Where's the office? I need to drop off the bill of lading."

"Next to the check in desk in the lobby. But that needs to go to billing. In the basement."

"Basement. Thanks. Good bye, Debi."

She paused and threw him a dazzling smile. Perfection, like all the employees he'd seen so far. "Anytime, sweetie. Look me up next time, huh?" She winked.

"How could I not?" He backed out with a small smile and a wave of his hand, closed the door and continued his investigation. He peeked out a window at the end of the hall and saw a jungle surrounding a pool. He craned his head to one side and saw a poolside bistro, busy with patrons. Waiters deftly maneuvered between the small tables.

"At least I don't have to wear a toga," he said, then he noticed the snug fit of the waiter's black pants and the garish ruffled shirts they wore. "Or maybe a toga wouldn't be so bad after all . . . "

********

Tessa groaned. "Ooo, my head hurts."

Kiki, draped across the rumpled bed face up, fumbled for one of the empty bottles beside her and turned it upside down above her eye. She shook it. "It's all gone! Now what?"

"I don't know about you, but a massage and a facial followed by a nap will do the trick for me. Then it's time for some fun!"

The girls put on their bathing suits and donned the thick robes embellished on the pocket with an embroidered green door. Kiki frowned at hers as they waited for the elevator. "What's that black thing on the door?"

Tessa glanced at it. "Looks like a crow. I don't know. Who cares?" She dragged her companion in then out of the elevator and followed the 'Massage and Facials' signs. When they entered the reception area of a small room they were greeted by a smiling blonde in a green toga. "Hello, ladies. Ready for a facial?"

"Yes, we are!" Tessa said, forgetting to sound mature.

The lady smiled. "I'm Kelly." She hit a small call bell and a redhead appeared from behind a curtain. "And this is Debi. We will be your attendants."

Debi led the way. "You ladies are lucky! We just got in some nice, refreshing cucumbers for your eyes!"

"Sounds great!" Kiki said, smiling. "I can't wait to see what's next!"