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100promptsTitle: This Is How We Do it in Russia
Word Count: 3395
Characters: Napoleon Solo, Natalia Povlovsky, Gaby Teller, Illya Kuryakin, Maximilian Kirkoff, Alexander Waverly
SL:The Man From U.N.C.L.E. When In Rome
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Prompt:#011 Moon for100prompts
Rating: Mature
Summary: Illya cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let the women handle this one,” his voice beamed with pride. He gazed at Gaby with admiration in his eyes. “Good strong slap. This is how we do in Russia.” Gaby smiled up at him as they shared a moment.
A/N: Thanks to my Beta Somedeepmystery [AO3]
Disclaimer: The story is mine, but the characters do not belong to me.
They all waited for Kirkoff to come to. Napoleon leaned casually against the mantel in Illya and his cabin. The Russian spy loomed over Kirkoff’s unconscious body. They tied the German scientist to a chair in the center of the room and watched him while he slept. There was a nasty looking knot at his temple and his eye was bruised where Illya had punched him. Solo admired Illya’s handy work. He had to admit, Peril’s propensity for violence often came in handy. Solo preferred to handle things a little more delicately. But then again, he’d been sliding off the side of a mountain with no way of stopping himself. It was just his luck that he eventually slowed down on his own. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he’d gone just a few feet further.
“How long has it been?” Gaby asked from across the room. She and Natalia were leaning over a game of cards.
“A little over an hour,” Illya answered. He didn’t take his eyes off Kirkoff.
Errant drool slipped between the unconscious man’s lips. It didn’t look like he was coming to any time soon. “You didn’t kill him, did you, Peril?”
Illya grunted in disdain. “If I wanted to kill him, he would be dead. He will wake up soon.”
As if on cue, Kirkoff’s eyes began to flutter behind his closed eyelids. The German squirmed in the wooden chair once he realized he was restrained. “Where am I? Who are you people?”
“We will ask the questions,” Illya grunted out. His voice was hard as he spoke to their prisoner.
“And if I don’t answer?”
“You will answer,” Gaby said. She stood to her feet and crossed the carpeted floor. Illya’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile.
“Someone will come looking for me,” Kirkoff responded.
Solo pushed himself off the mantelpiece and eyed the scientist. They didn’t plan on keeping him long enough for anyone to start a search party. Once they got the code, the plan was to hand him over to Waverly. Solo glanced over at Natalia. She looked strained as she stood with her fists clenched to her sides.
“And when they do, they can either find you safe and sound or as a corpse. It’s up to you,” Solo said. He checked his nails casually as he spoke.
Kirkoff sneered, his lips curled over perfect white teeth. “You think your threats scare me? I’ve faced much worse than you and two skinny little women.”
“Hey!” Gaby and Natalia exclaimed at the same time.
“I wouldn’t underestimate us if I were you Mr. Voss—Or should I say Kirkoff. We know exactly who you are. And you’ve got what we want.”
“Then I believe that puts me at a unique advantage and you at a disadvantage.”
Solo’s eyes swept over the restraints that kept Kirkoff seated. The last man who underestimated them ended up on fire. Solo sighed inwardly at the thought of his jacket. The smokey smell still lingered in the high quality fabric. “I don’t think so. You’re the one tied to a chair.”
“What are you going to do? Torture me? I don’t have your code.” He smirked.
Illya cracked his knuckles. “Lies.”
“You have the code. Give it to us,” Natalia said forcefully.
Solo recognized unchecked anger. He saw it every time Illya was about to lose control. He stepped between Natalia and Kirkoff. “You do have the code. Or you know where we can get it. Tell us and you might get out of this alive. Don’t and…” He glanced over at Illya.
“You keep making the same threat. It means nothing to me.”
Out of nowhere, Gaby crossed the room and laid a stinging slap across Kirkoff’s face, stunning everyone. The room went quiet as they all stared at Gaby in shock. In the many months they worked together, this was the first time she’d actually gotten physical with anyone. She used a gun before, but this was different. Solo knew that she and Illya had gotten close. But had the Russian spy rubbed off on her? Kirkoff shook his head. The slap was forceful enough to daze him.
“Give us the code or I’ll—”
Solo stepped forward and laid his hands on Gaby’s slight shoulders. “I think what my partner is trying to say is that you don’t have a choice in this.” Solo pulled Gaby to the side as he spoke.
“What? Why did you stop me?” she whispered.
“I think it might be best to let me and Peril handle this,” he whispered gently. Solo didn’t want to upset either one of the women.
“Because you did so well the last time?” Gaby said defiantly.
Illya cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let the women handle this one,” his voice beamed with pride. He gazed at Gaby with admiration in his eyes. “Good strong slap. This is how we do in Russia.” Gaby smiled up at him as they shared a moment. “Next time bring hand—”
“Okay, let’s focus.” Solo rolled his eyes. “You two can make moon eyes at each other after we’re done with this whole affair.” He waved his hands casually as he spoke.
“You are the people who are supposed to take me down?” Kirkoff said sardonically. He looked between the foursome with amusement in his cold gray eyes. Solo, Illya, Gaby, and Natalia all turned at once to look at him. “Who are you? Government agency rejects? Weak. Incompetent. Nobodies.”
Before Solo could stop him, Illya’s fists connected with Kirkoff’s face, knocking him out cold once again.
Solo shook his head and let out a sigh. How long would they have to wait before Kirkoff gained consciousness this time? “You just had to punch him, Peril?"
“He called us weak.” Illya shrugged.
Solo glanced down at the unconscious Kirkoff again. It was going to be a long night.
++++
Gaby poured herself and Natalia a drink from the bar in their cabin. The men were next door still trying to get information out of Kirkoff. “Here. You look like you could use one of these,” she said handing her new partner the glass.
Gaby didn’t know Natalia very well, but she recognized the pensive look on her face. It was a mixture of fear, worry, and pride. The former cat burglar was trying hard to maintain her cool demeanor. She could relate. Months earlier she was in a similar situation with her father. The only difference was that Natalia’s didn’t abandon her. The two were close and his life was riding on the success of this mission. Natalia had made it perfectly clear that she only got involved because of her father. That was something else they had in common. Despite her estrangement from Udo Teller, he was still her father. Would she have gone gallivanting around the world stealing to get him back? Well, hadn’t she.
“Thank you,” Natalia murmured, wrapping both sets of fingers around her glass. She walked over to the sofa and sat down without taking a sip. Instead, the Russian stared with unblinking eyes into the crackling fire.
Gaby felt her heartstrings pull. They really did have a lot more in common than she initially thought. “They’ll get the code,” Gaby soothed, breaking the thick silence in the room. She sat across from Natalia on the opposite lounger.
Natalia looked up from the fire. “How do you know?” She took a long drink and grimaced from the heat.
“Because this is important,” Gaby said with confidence. “And because Solo cares about you.”
Natalia made a scoffing noise and laughed mirthlessly. “I doubt it. He’s the reason why I’m here.”
“Not by choice. I know him. He wouldn’t have turned you in. You were careless this time and it caught up to you.”
Natalia’s head snapped up. She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again with a soft click of her teeth. She took another drink. “How long have you been with U.N.C.L.E.?"
Gaby’s lips tilted into a wistful smile. “Almost a year.”
Natalia studied her through dark, brown eyes and nodded. “Well, I’m not sure about Solo’s intentions for me, but it’s clear that both men care about you. Especially Illya.”
Gaby’s hands paused in mid air. “What do you mean? Of course we care about each other. We’re partners.”
“Oh, you can’t be that naïve,” Natalia said around a laugh. “How old are you? Twenty-five, Twenty-six? Old enough to know that when a man looks at a woman the way Illya looks at you it’s more than just work related.” Natalia stood up and walked to the wet bar to pour herself another drink. “The man is helplessly in love with you. Any fool can see that.”
Gaby was quiet as she swirled the clear contents of her drink in the glass. There were times when she felt something between herself and Illya. It hung between them, brimming with unspoken feelings they both tried to deny. They were partners. Anything more could complicate their relationship. But… now that someone finally said it out loud, Gaby couldn’t help the path her mind began to take. She thought of their almost-kiss the first time they’d been in Italy. The time in France when they hid together for hours in a dark underground shelter. She had felt safe in his arms with her face buried in his chest. She still remembered the way his lips felt brushing against her temple. They had almost kissed then, too. That time it had been Solo that interrupted them.
“Illya is too—”
“Russian?” Natalia finished on a laugh. “Don’t let him fool you. Russian men are very passionate creatures. I know. I’ve been around them my whole life. He looks at you the way my uncle looks at his wife.” She smiled at the memory of her surrogate parents. “Like one minute he could kill you and the next he could write a sonnet about the color of your eyes.”
Gaby ducked her head. All this talk about Illya’s feelings was making her uncomfortable. “Solo looks at you the same way.”
“Solo looks at me the way every man has looked at me since I was fourteen.”
Another point she could relate to. Once a girl begins to grow into a woman, the men always seemed to hover about like vultures. She remembered that all too well. It was one of the reasons why she became interested in cars. Men tended to overlook girls with grease on their faces and beneath their fingernails.
“If you say so. I know him,” she repeated herself. “I’ve never seen a woman do to him what you do.”
“So, there’s been a lot of women,” Natalia smirked. “Don’t worry. My feelings won’t be hurt.”
Gaby shrugged. “He likes the company of women. But none like you.”
Natalia was quiet. “Well,” she said finally. “I’ll be done with this in a few days and he’ll have his life and I’ll have mine…”
“If you say so,” Gaby said with a secret smile. She walked over to her bed and slid beneath the comforter. The crackling of the fire lulled her into sleep. She closed her eyes let thoughts of Illya carry her away.
++++
Solo and Illya were able to sleep even with the smell of blood hanging in the air. They took shifts with Illya taking the first one while Solo slept. Kirkoff was unconscious again. The German scientist sat slumped over in the wooden chair. His hair was tousled, and bruises littered his face. Light snores escaped his swollen lips. They were close to breaking him. Solo stood beside the window and peered outside. Light from the moon filtered into their cabin, casting parts of it in dark shadows. Up on the mountain, the moon appeared bigger than usual. He was gazing at it thinking of Natalia, when something in the trees caught his eyes. Solo squinted his eyes and peered out into the darkness. He thought he saw someone lurking outside the cabin. He looked around the room and spotted his gun on top of the luncheon table.
The air was cold and crisp. Solo hadn’t bothered with a jacket and stepped out into the snowy night with just his shirt and slacks. His boots crunched on the snow as he walked to the edge of the property line. He stared through the trees, but all he could see was darkness. Must have been the wind, he scolded himself as he made his way back inside. The room was still. The sound of Illya’s breathing mingled with Kirkoff’s snores. Solo laid his gun on the table. Behind him, a figure melted from the shadows and wrapped a piano wire around his throat. A strangled sound escaped from his startled lips.
“P-peril,” Solo barely squeezed out, but the Russian remained sound asleep as he got the life choked out of him. Of all the ways he imagined himself dying, he never imagined it would be like this. He lifted his hands to his throat and grappled at the thin wire around his neck. His assailant squeezed tighter as he struggled for air. Solo swung his arms back, connecting his elbow with his attacker’s stomach. The wire around his neck loosened allowing Solo to gasp for air.He took a swing at the man and fist connected with his face.
“You’re going to—” Something pricked him on the side of his neck. Solo lifted his hand to touch it. He shook his head as his vision began to cloud. He needed to sit down and rest for a minute. The spy stumbled toward a chair, knocking a bowl of fruit off the table.
The ceramic bowl crashed to the floor waking Illya from his sleep. “Cowboy?” he called from across the room.
“Peril,” Solo slurred. “Someone’s in the…” Solo never got to finish his warning. The American slumped over the table unconscious.
The shadowy figure emerged from the corner and swung his fist toward Illya’s face. The spy ducked to the side averting the hit. He countered with a haymaker to the man’s gut. He grunted and fell back into a sofa tipping it over. Illya used that moment to pounce on the attacker. He grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to his feet.
“Who sent you?”
The man panted in Illya’s face and muttered something in Spanish. He struggled out of Illya’s grasp and the two men began to grapple with each other again. Illya took a hard punch to the jaw and fell back against the wall. He expected the man to take another jab. Instead, the man jammed a needle into Illya’s chest. The Russian looked down, wrapped his hands around it, and yanked it out. His eyes took on a hard glint. He leaned forward and reached for the man before falling on his face.
++++
Illya blinked his eyes against the sun. A marching band was beating across his temple. He grunted and pushed himself up on his elbows. Across the room Solo began to come to. Illya looked over toward Kirkoff and jumped to his feet. The scientist was gone.
“What happened?” Solo rubbed the back of his neck.
“Our scientist escaped.” Illya’s voice was low with anger.
Solo looked toward the empty chair and sighed. “Did you see who attacked us?”
Illya nodded. “He had a mustache and beady eyes like yours.”
Solo gave Illya a look. The furniture was overturned and broken, evidence of a struggled between them and their attacker. Illya picked through the broken furniture looking for anything that would give them a clue on where they could start their search. He looked at the clock on the wall. Whoever attacked them was long gone with Kirkoff. They were going to have a lot of explaining to do later when they checked in with Waverly.
“Did he say anything? Napoleon asked.
“Yes. But it was in Spanish. I don’t know what he said.”
Solo cocked his head. “Spanish…?”
Someone knocked on the room door. Solo put his finger to his lips and reached for his gun. “No room service,” he called through the door.
“It’s us,” Gaby said.
Solo opened the door for the two women and let them in. Gaby looked around at the mess, stepping over broken glass. She started to make a joke when she noticed Kirkoff was gone.
“Where is Kirkoff?” Natalia asked, alarmed.
“He’s gone,” Illya said in a stilted voice.
“What do you mean he’s gone? You were supposed to be watching him,” she said.
“Someone broke in last night and attacked us. We were nearly killed.” Solo rubbed his tender throat as he spoke.
Natalia visibly softened once she noticed the bruises and welts on her partners’ necks and faces. She collapsed into the sofa and looked around at the mess. Illya wanted to assure her they would get Kirkoff back, but Gaby was giving him a strange look. Was that concern in her eyes?
“I will contact Waverly,” he said.
++++
“The man who attacked you is a Cuban operative,” Waverly began.
The group was gathered in Gaby’s and Natalia’s room waiting for their next set of instructions. Solo sat in his corner and rubbed his throat. Illya nursed his own wounds with Gaby close at his side. Natalia walked over to Solo and handed him a cup of warm tea.
“For your throat,” she whispered to him and took a seat nearby.
“We’ve gotten intel that Cuba is no longer interested in stealing the egg.”
“They’re getting it straight from the horse’s mouth.” Solo sighed heavily.
“Well, yes, they are. Which means the mission has changed. You all must go to Cuba, retrieve Kirkoff, the plans for the bomb, and Natalia’s father.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Solo quipped. What started off as a search and retrieve was turning into a whole affair. Solo bit back and sigh and sipped his tea. The warm liquid soothed his raw throat.
Waverly sniffed at Solo’s sarcasm and ignored him. He handed each member of the team a tan folder. Solo flipped his open and stared at the black and white photo. The man in the photo stared back with cold gray eyes.
“The man in the photo is Dmitry Lukin. A Russian Diplomat who is scheduled to meet with Fidel Castro this week. His flight leaves early tomorrow morning from Russia. You will be on that flight.”
Solo looked down at the photo and back at Illya. The resemblance was uncanny. There were noticeable differences but at a glance, the two men could pass as brothers. “Let me guess, you expect us to intercept him and take his place.”
“Actually, no. We’ve already intercepted Lukin. He’s come down with a nasty stomach bug that should clear up in about twenty-four hours. In the meantime, Illya will be playing the role of the distinguished Russian Diplomat.”
“I look nothing like this man,” Illya scoffed offended. The rest of the team bit back smiles.
“His nose is a little longer,” Natalia spoke up. “That’s nothing a prosthetic can’t fix.” She walked over to Illya and squeezed his chin between her fingers. She tilted his head up then to the side.
“Yes. That could work. And with a mustache…”
Illya moved his face. “This will not work.”
“It will have to,” Waverly said. “We need those plans and the code. Do any of you have a better plan?” They were all silent. “That’s what I thought. Natalia if you could work on
transforming Kuryakin, we can have you on the first flight to Cuba.”
“Does Lukin have a wife?” Gaby asked.
Illya looked up from his file. His eyes connected with Gaby’s and a smile twitched at his lips. He turned his attention back to Waverly and waited. The director flipped through his file again.
“Yes. He does. But—”
“Gaby will be my wife,” Illya said. Gaby tried to hide a small smile.
“I don’t think that will be necess—” Waverly started.
“Russian Diplomats often bring their wives,” Natalia interrupted. “He should have a woman on his arm.” She winked at Gaby and sat down.
Waverly looked at his team and sighed. What could he do? “Very well. Be ready to leave first thing in the morning. It’s going to be a long flight.”
Up Next: Part II the Cuban Affair
Word Count: 3395
Characters: Napoleon Solo, Natalia Povlovsky, Gaby Teller, Illya Kuryakin, Maximilian Kirkoff, Alexander Waverly
SL:The Man From U.N.C.L.E. When In Rome
Fandom: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Prompt:#011 Moon for
100promptsRating: Mature
Summary: Illya cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let the women handle this one,” his voice beamed with pride. He gazed at Gaby with admiration in his eyes. “Good strong slap. This is how we do in Russia.” Gaby smiled up at him as they shared a moment.
A/N: Thanks to my Beta Somedeepmystery [AO3]
Disclaimer: The story is mine, but the characters do not belong to me.
They all waited for Kirkoff to come to. Napoleon leaned casually against the mantel in Illya and his cabin. The Russian spy loomed over Kirkoff’s unconscious body. They tied the German scientist to a chair in the center of the room and watched him while he slept. There was a nasty looking knot at his temple and his eye was bruised where Illya had punched him. Solo admired Illya’s handy work. He had to admit, Peril’s propensity for violence often came in handy. Solo preferred to handle things a little more delicately. But then again, he’d been sliding off the side of a mountain with no way of stopping himself. It was just his luck that he eventually slowed down on his own. He didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he’d gone just a few feet further.
“How long has it been?” Gaby asked from across the room. She and Natalia were leaning over a game of cards.
“A little over an hour,” Illya answered. He didn’t take his eyes off Kirkoff.
Errant drool slipped between the unconscious man’s lips. It didn’t look like he was coming to any time soon. “You didn’t kill him, did you, Peril?”
Illya grunted in disdain. “If I wanted to kill him, he would be dead. He will wake up soon.”
As if on cue, Kirkoff’s eyes began to flutter behind his closed eyelids. The German squirmed in the wooden chair once he realized he was restrained. “Where am I? Who are you people?”
“We will ask the questions,” Illya grunted out. His voice was hard as he spoke to their prisoner.
“And if I don’t answer?”
“You will answer,” Gaby said. She stood to her feet and crossed the carpeted floor. Illya’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile.
“Someone will come looking for me,” Kirkoff responded.
Solo pushed himself off the mantelpiece and eyed the scientist. They didn’t plan on keeping him long enough for anyone to start a search party. Once they got the code, the plan was to hand him over to Waverly. Solo glanced over at Natalia. She looked strained as she stood with her fists clenched to her sides.
“And when they do, they can either find you safe and sound or as a corpse. It’s up to you,” Solo said. He checked his nails casually as he spoke.
Kirkoff sneered, his lips curled over perfect white teeth. “You think your threats scare me? I’ve faced much worse than you and two skinny little women.”
“Hey!” Gaby and Natalia exclaimed at the same time.
“I wouldn’t underestimate us if I were you Mr. Voss—Or should I say Kirkoff. We know exactly who you are. And you’ve got what we want.”
“Then I believe that puts me at a unique advantage and you at a disadvantage.”
Solo’s eyes swept over the restraints that kept Kirkoff seated. The last man who underestimated them ended up on fire. Solo sighed inwardly at the thought of his jacket. The smokey smell still lingered in the high quality fabric. “I don’t think so. You’re the one tied to a chair.”
“What are you going to do? Torture me? I don’t have your code.” He smirked.
Illya cracked his knuckles. “Lies.”
“You have the code. Give it to us,” Natalia said forcefully.
Solo recognized unchecked anger. He saw it every time Illya was about to lose control. He stepped between Natalia and Kirkoff. “You do have the code. Or you know where we can get it. Tell us and you might get out of this alive. Don’t and…” He glanced over at Illya.
“You keep making the same threat. It means nothing to me.”
Out of nowhere, Gaby crossed the room and laid a stinging slap across Kirkoff’s face, stunning everyone. The room went quiet as they all stared at Gaby in shock. In the many months they worked together, this was the first time she’d actually gotten physical with anyone. She used a gun before, but this was different. Solo knew that she and Illya had gotten close. But had the Russian spy rubbed off on her? Kirkoff shook his head. The slap was forceful enough to daze him.
“Give us the code or I’ll—”
Solo stepped forward and laid his hands on Gaby’s slight shoulders. “I think what my partner is trying to say is that you don’t have a choice in this.” Solo pulled Gaby to the side as he spoke.
“What? Why did you stop me?” she whispered.
“I think it might be best to let me and Peril handle this,” he whispered gently. Solo didn’t want to upset either one of the women.
“Because you did so well the last time?” Gaby said defiantly.
Illya cleared his throat. “Maybe we should let the women handle this one,” his voice beamed with pride. He gazed at Gaby with admiration in his eyes. “Good strong slap. This is how we do in Russia.” Gaby smiled up at him as they shared a moment. “Next time bring hand—”
“Okay, let’s focus.” Solo rolled his eyes. “You two can make moon eyes at each other after we’re done with this whole affair.” He waved his hands casually as he spoke.
“You are the people who are supposed to take me down?” Kirkoff said sardonically. He looked between the foursome with amusement in his cold gray eyes. Solo, Illya, Gaby, and Natalia all turned at once to look at him. “Who are you? Government agency rejects? Weak. Incompetent. Nobodies.”
Before Solo could stop him, Illya’s fists connected with Kirkoff’s face, knocking him out cold once again.
Solo shook his head and let out a sigh. How long would they have to wait before Kirkoff gained consciousness this time? “You just had to punch him, Peril?"
“He called us weak.” Illya shrugged.
Solo glanced down at the unconscious Kirkoff again. It was going to be a long night.
++++
Gaby poured herself and Natalia a drink from the bar in their cabin. The men were next door still trying to get information out of Kirkoff. “Here. You look like you could use one of these,” she said handing her new partner the glass.
Gaby didn’t know Natalia very well, but she recognized the pensive look on her face. It was a mixture of fear, worry, and pride. The former cat burglar was trying hard to maintain her cool demeanor. She could relate. Months earlier she was in a similar situation with her father. The only difference was that Natalia’s didn’t abandon her. The two were close and his life was riding on the success of this mission. Natalia had made it perfectly clear that she only got involved because of her father. That was something else they had in common. Despite her estrangement from Udo Teller, he was still her father. Would she have gone gallivanting around the world stealing to get him back? Well, hadn’t she.
“Thank you,” Natalia murmured, wrapping both sets of fingers around her glass. She walked over to the sofa and sat down without taking a sip. Instead, the Russian stared with unblinking eyes into the crackling fire.
Gaby felt her heartstrings pull. They really did have a lot more in common than she initially thought. “They’ll get the code,” Gaby soothed, breaking the thick silence in the room. She sat across from Natalia on the opposite lounger.
Natalia looked up from the fire. “How do you know?” She took a long drink and grimaced from the heat.
“Because this is important,” Gaby said with confidence. “And because Solo cares about you.”
Natalia made a scoffing noise and laughed mirthlessly. “I doubt it. He’s the reason why I’m here.”
“Not by choice. I know him. He wouldn’t have turned you in. You were careless this time and it caught up to you.”
Natalia’s head snapped up. She opened her mouth to say something and then shut it again with a soft click of her teeth. She took another drink. “How long have you been with U.N.C.L.E.?"
Gaby’s lips tilted into a wistful smile. “Almost a year.”
Natalia studied her through dark, brown eyes and nodded. “Well, I’m not sure about Solo’s intentions for me, but it’s clear that both men care about you. Especially Illya.”
Gaby’s hands paused in mid air. “What do you mean? Of course we care about each other. We’re partners.”
“Oh, you can’t be that naïve,” Natalia said around a laugh. “How old are you? Twenty-five, Twenty-six? Old enough to know that when a man looks at a woman the way Illya looks at you it’s more than just work related.” Natalia stood up and walked to the wet bar to pour herself another drink. “The man is helplessly in love with you. Any fool can see that.”
Gaby was quiet as she swirled the clear contents of her drink in the glass. There were times when she felt something between herself and Illya. It hung between them, brimming with unspoken feelings they both tried to deny. They were partners. Anything more could complicate their relationship. But… now that someone finally said it out loud, Gaby couldn’t help the path her mind began to take. She thought of their almost-kiss the first time they’d been in Italy. The time in France when they hid together for hours in a dark underground shelter. She had felt safe in his arms with her face buried in his chest. She still remembered the way his lips felt brushing against her temple. They had almost kissed then, too. That time it had been Solo that interrupted them.
“Illya is too—”
“Russian?” Natalia finished on a laugh. “Don’t let him fool you. Russian men are very passionate creatures. I know. I’ve been around them my whole life. He looks at you the way my uncle looks at his wife.” She smiled at the memory of her surrogate parents. “Like one minute he could kill you and the next he could write a sonnet about the color of your eyes.”
Gaby ducked her head. All this talk about Illya’s feelings was making her uncomfortable. “Solo looks at you the same way.”
“Solo looks at me the way every man has looked at me since I was fourteen.”
Another point she could relate to. Once a girl begins to grow into a woman, the men always seemed to hover about like vultures. She remembered that all too well. It was one of the reasons why she became interested in cars. Men tended to overlook girls with grease on their faces and beneath their fingernails.
“If you say so. I know him,” she repeated herself. “I’ve never seen a woman do to him what you do.”
“So, there’s been a lot of women,” Natalia smirked. “Don’t worry. My feelings won’t be hurt.”
Gaby shrugged. “He likes the company of women. But none like you.”
Natalia was quiet. “Well,” she said finally. “I’ll be done with this in a few days and he’ll have his life and I’ll have mine…”
“If you say so,” Gaby said with a secret smile. She walked over to her bed and slid beneath the comforter. The crackling of the fire lulled her into sleep. She closed her eyes let thoughts of Illya carry her away.
++++
Solo and Illya were able to sleep even with the smell of blood hanging in the air. They took shifts with Illya taking the first one while Solo slept. Kirkoff was unconscious again. The German scientist sat slumped over in the wooden chair. His hair was tousled, and bruises littered his face. Light snores escaped his swollen lips. They were close to breaking him. Solo stood beside the window and peered outside. Light from the moon filtered into their cabin, casting parts of it in dark shadows. Up on the mountain, the moon appeared bigger than usual. He was gazing at it thinking of Natalia, when something in the trees caught his eyes. Solo squinted his eyes and peered out into the darkness. He thought he saw someone lurking outside the cabin. He looked around the room and spotted his gun on top of the luncheon table.
The air was cold and crisp. Solo hadn’t bothered with a jacket and stepped out into the snowy night with just his shirt and slacks. His boots crunched on the snow as he walked to the edge of the property line. He stared through the trees, but all he could see was darkness. Must have been the wind, he scolded himself as he made his way back inside. The room was still. The sound of Illya’s breathing mingled with Kirkoff’s snores. Solo laid his gun on the table. Behind him, a figure melted from the shadows and wrapped a piano wire around his throat. A strangled sound escaped from his startled lips.
“P-peril,” Solo barely squeezed out, but the Russian remained sound asleep as he got the life choked out of him. Of all the ways he imagined himself dying, he never imagined it would be like this. He lifted his hands to his throat and grappled at the thin wire around his neck. His assailant squeezed tighter as he struggled for air. Solo swung his arms back, connecting his elbow with his attacker’s stomach. The wire around his neck loosened allowing Solo to gasp for air.He took a swing at the man and fist connected with his face.
“You’re going to—” Something pricked him on the side of his neck. Solo lifted his hand to touch it. He shook his head as his vision began to cloud. He needed to sit down and rest for a minute. The spy stumbled toward a chair, knocking a bowl of fruit off the table.
The ceramic bowl crashed to the floor waking Illya from his sleep. “Cowboy?” he called from across the room.
“Peril,” Solo slurred. “Someone’s in the…” Solo never got to finish his warning. The American slumped over the table unconscious.
The shadowy figure emerged from the corner and swung his fist toward Illya’s face. The spy ducked to the side averting the hit. He countered with a haymaker to the man’s gut. He grunted and fell back into a sofa tipping it over. Illya used that moment to pounce on the attacker. He grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to his feet.
“Who sent you?”
The man panted in Illya’s face and muttered something in Spanish. He struggled out of Illya’s grasp and the two men began to grapple with each other again. Illya took a hard punch to the jaw and fell back against the wall. He expected the man to take another jab. Instead, the man jammed a needle into Illya’s chest. The Russian looked down, wrapped his hands around it, and yanked it out. His eyes took on a hard glint. He leaned forward and reached for the man before falling on his face.
++++
Illya blinked his eyes against the sun. A marching band was beating across his temple. He grunted and pushed himself up on his elbows. Across the room Solo began to come to. Illya looked over toward Kirkoff and jumped to his feet. The scientist was gone.
“What happened?” Solo rubbed the back of his neck.
“Our scientist escaped.” Illya’s voice was low with anger.
Solo looked toward the empty chair and sighed. “Did you see who attacked us?”
Illya nodded. “He had a mustache and beady eyes like yours.”
Solo gave Illya a look. The furniture was overturned and broken, evidence of a struggled between them and their attacker. Illya picked through the broken furniture looking for anything that would give them a clue on where they could start their search. He looked at the clock on the wall. Whoever attacked them was long gone with Kirkoff. They were going to have a lot of explaining to do later when they checked in with Waverly.
“Did he say anything? Napoleon asked.
“Yes. But it was in Spanish. I don’t know what he said.”
Solo cocked his head. “Spanish…?”
Someone knocked on the room door. Solo put his finger to his lips and reached for his gun. “No room service,” he called through the door.
“It’s us,” Gaby said.
Solo opened the door for the two women and let them in. Gaby looked around at the mess, stepping over broken glass. She started to make a joke when she noticed Kirkoff was gone.
“Where is Kirkoff?” Natalia asked, alarmed.
“He’s gone,” Illya said in a stilted voice.
“What do you mean he’s gone? You were supposed to be watching him,” she said.
“Someone broke in last night and attacked us. We were nearly killed.” Solo rubbed his tender throat as he spoke.
Natalia visibly softened once she noticed the bruises and welts on her partners’ necks and faces. She collapsed into the sofa and looked around at the mess. Illya wanted to assure her they would get Kirkoff back, but Gaby was giving him a strange look. Was that concern in her eyes?
“I will contact Waverly,” he said.
++++
“The man who attacked you is a Cuban operative,” Waverly began.
The group was gathered in Gaby’s and Natalia’s room waiting for their next set of instructions. Solo sat in his corner and rubbed his throat. Illya nursed his own wounds with Gaby close at his side. Natalia walked over to Solo and handed him a cup of warm tea.
“For your throat,” she whispered to him and took a seat nearby.
“We’ve gotten intel that Cuba is no longer interested in stealing the egg.”
“They’re getting it straight from the horse’s mouth.” Solo sighed heavily.
“Well, yes, they are. Which means the mission has changed. You all must go to Cuba, retrieve Kirkoff, the plans for the bomb, and Natalia’s father.”
“Sounds easy enough,” Solo quipped. What started off as a search and retrieve was turning into a whole affair. Solo bit back and sigh and sipped his tea. The warm liquid soothed his raw throat.
Waverly sniffed at Solo’s sarcasm and ignored him. He handed each member of the team a tan folder. Solo flipped his open and stared at the black and white photo. The man in the photo stared back with cold gray eyes.
“The man in the photo is Dmitry Lukin. A Russian Diplomat who is scheduled to meet with Fidel Castro this week. His flight leaves early tomorrow morning from Russia. You will be on that flight.”
Solo looked down at the photo and back at Illya. The resemblance was uncanny. There were noticeable differences but at a glance, the two men could pass as brothers. “Let me guess, you expect us to intercept him and take his place.”
“Actually, no. We’ve already intercepted Lukin. He’s come down with a nasty stomach bug that should clear up in about twenty-four hours. In the meantime, Illya will be playing the role of the distinguished Russian Diplomat.”
“I look nothing like this man,” Illya scoffed offended. The rest of the team bit back smiles.
“His nose is a little longer,” Natalia spoke up. “That’s nothing a prosthetic can’t fix.” She walked over to Illya and squeezed his chin between her fingers. She tilted his head up then to the side.
“Yes. That could work. And with a mustache…”
Illya moved his face. “This will not work.”
“It will have to,” Waverly said. “We need those plans and the code. Do any of you have a better plan?” They were all silent. “That’s what I thought. Natalia if you could work on
transforming Kuryakin, we can have you on the first flight to Cuba.”
“Does Lukin have a wife?” Gaby asked.
Illya looked up from his file. His eyes connected with Gaby’s and a smile twitched at his lips. He turned his attention back to Waverly and waited. The director flipped through his file again.
“Yes. He does. But—”
“Gaby will be my wife,” Illya said. Gaby tried to hide a small smile.
“I don’t think that will be necess—” Waverly started.
“Russian Diplomats often bring their wives,” Natalia interrupted. “He should have a woman on his arm.” She winked at Gaby and sat down.
Waverly looked at his team and sighed. What could he do? “Very well. Be ready to leave first thing in the morning. It’s going to be a long flight.”
Up Next: Part II the Cuban Affair
