Collection 7 - The Northern Lights Affair Page 23

  Antonio stood abruptly and walked to the fireplace, retrieving a pipe from the mantel. As methodically as Waverly ever did, he filled the pipe and prepared it, not choosing to answer until a stream of smoke issued. "For the last five years I've been here in Toronto, living in this home and teaching at the university. Before that, I... traveled." He puffed on the pipe, exhaling. "Do you want to hear that my career was a mistake? That I was a failure? Well, I wasn't. And neither was your mother. We were damn good at our jobs. Alexander says it is a family trait, that you are his top agent, and his successor. I wish I had some reason to take responsibility for that, but since I was not a part of your life, it is your own accomplishment.

  "Do you want to hear that my marriage was a mistake? It wasn't. It was the smartest move I ever made. I loved your mother devotedly. She was the magic in my life, and since she has been gone, a part of me is gone as well." Antonio Solo looked across at him. "Do you want to hear that you were a mistake? I look at you sitting there and I cannot say that you were a mistake. You were not planned, certainly. You were never intended to be, but some force greater that I decided otherwise, and we—your mother and I—decided not to abort you. Your birth came at an extremely difficult time. We were in the middle of an assignment put in action over three years before. Three years of working our way into the organization we were after, until finally we reached the inner circle and were able to get the information London needed. We staged a huge fight—your mother and I—and she left me alone for six months while she returned to Canada to have you. Right or wrong, it was the only decision we could find at the time."

  The older man sat down in an armchair, leaning forward to look at his son. "Knowing what I know now, I don't believe I would have made the same decision. I cannot say for certain. What would you have done?"

  Napoleon leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. "I don't know. I don't want to make that decision."

  "Maybe we should have brought you to France undercover with us—"

  "No," Napoleon said, shaking his head. "No, much as that's what I would have wanted, my partner was raised under those circumstances and has maintained that I was far better off where I was. Short of quitting the business, there was probably nothing you could have done that you didn't do."

  "Why did you come today, Napoleon?" Antonio asked.

  Napoleon shrugged. "I don't know. Curious, I guess. I have so many questions to ask you, but I can't think of one of them now."

  "We met while in university, but we fell in love while doing undercover work in a hotel in Quebec City, posing as husband and wife. We... took our role a bit too seriously, I'm afraid."

  That brought a smile to Napoleon's face, an identical one to Antonio's, and the older man gave an embarrassed shrug. "Alexander tells me that you are indeed my son."

  "He told you that?" Napoleon's grin widened. "And what else as he told you?"

  "Since you started with U.N.C.L.E., he has given me regular reports of your activities. I must admit to be surprised about the Bay of Pigs incident, but I think you made the correct decision with Clara. Unless you are both committed to the life of an agent, it does not work."

  The grin vanished and Napoleon sat up straighter. "You know about Clara?"

  "Oh, yes," Antonio nodded absently, tugging gently at the pipe. "I was pleased to hear she married finally—and that you were able to help her out last year. Kind of you, considering she was an ex-love." Antonio gestured out the window toward Illya, who was slowly making his way back to the cottage, hands in his pockets as the wind tossed his hair around his face. "Before he returns, let me give you the only piece of advice you will ever receive from me— for this is something I know beyond a shadow of doubt. Illya seems to be a good friend. Don't lose him. I would not have survived these years without Claude and Alexander. Their belief in me sustained me through the darkest hours of my life. No other achievement in my life, besides my love for your mother, has been worth more to me than their friendship."

  Napoleon nodded as the door opened and Illya came into the room. "We should get going," he said, climbing carefully to his feet. Illya was at his side quickly, steadying him as he wavered, and Napoleon looked over his friend's shoulder to meet his father's eyes, seeing him in a slightly different light. The two agents made their way to the front door.

  Illya held out his hand. "Thank you, sir, for the coffee. As I said, I like this place. You are fortunate."

  "Yes, in some ways, I am." Antonio paused in the doorway as Illya moved away from them toward the gate. Father and son looked at each other, then shook hands awkwardly. "I'll be here. Come again, if you want to," Antonio said. "Any time."

  Napoleon turned away and walked quickly down the path to join his partner. At the gate, he stopped and turned around. "Thank you. I may just take you up on that."

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Part 1: Montreal

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Part 2: Rocky Mountains

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Part 3: Arctic Circle

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue