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Summary
London Airport is a predictable mess. The UNCLE team has been travelling for thirty-seven hours after their abrupt mission scrub, precipitated by an urgent telegram from Waverly, pulling them out of violence-torn Cyprus with no warning and only the clothes on their backs and Illya’s case. The airport itself is relatively warm, but Gaby is still shivering from the sprint down the air stairs and across the icy tarmac to the Europa Terminal in her light cotton khaki shirt and pants. Illya, of course, is ignoring any personal discomfort and pacing restlessly, watching Gaby with an anxious eye to her health. Solo has commandeered a house phone and is trying to reach Waverly, complicated by the fact that it has begun to snow and lines are down between the terminal and the main phone exchange.