"A Tactical Maneuver" ~ for the Great Episode Challenge 8/20

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Challenge: The Great Episode Challenge 8/20

Challenge # 2

In Season Two’s “The Indian Affairs Affair,” Napoleon mentions that three years earlier in Morocco, he used a similar tactic to LC Carson’s: giving the couriers fake packages while he carried the real package out himself.

The questions are: What was his mission?  Was he still a solo (pun intended) operative or had he been partnered with the Russian?

Author: mrua7

Title: A Tactical Maneuver

Word count: Approximately 1,000


The heat of the Moroccan sun was wearing thin on Napoleon Solo’s patience.  He kept looking at his watch, waiting for his decoy couriers to arrive to his hotel room one by one to give them their instructions. Each of them thought they’d be carrying vital information that THRUSH desperately wanted, so it was a dangerous assignment.  Some of these agents might not make it.

Napoleon pushed aside the guilt he felt for possibly sending one or all of these men to their death, but it was something that had to be done.  He couldn’t risk THRUSH getting their hands this compound that Dr. Haziz had developed….it was that dangerous. Yet in the right hands it could do good. It was a conundrum that he faced, as UNCLE did not want it destroyed.

So far only two of the three couriers had arrived and those he gave their marching orders as well as their packages and sent them on their way, hopefully leading THRUSH on a possibly dangerous chase.

They were seasoned agents and knew what they were doing, it was the third one...the one who was late that was the unknown.  Waverly said the agent was in the vicinity and ordered him to assist Solo; that was as much as he knew.

Napoleon stood beside the large window in his room, shaded from the midday sun by the traditional latticework that covered every window in the fabled city of Casablanca, offering some respite from the heat.

An electric ceiling fan did little but to circulate the hot air, making the diaphanous red curtains flutter ever so softly. The room was darkened, with the light of orange-glass lamps helping to cast an ungodly glow. It made everything look as though it were on fire.

Finally Napoleon heard it; a coded knock. Thank God the final courier had arrived at last.

He opened the shuttered door, revealing a shaggy haired blond waiting there for him.

“Uncle Cromwell sent me,” the cloaked man mumbled. He had a slight accent, though the American couldn’t quite place it. It sounded British, but there was a hint of something else.

“Tomorrow is his birthday, and I have a gift for him,” Napoleon gave the proper response and no sooner had he done so, the agent pushed his way inside, not waitng for an invitation.

“What happened?” Solo asked.

“I had some difficulty with my transportation; the camel was most uncooperative. It took me more time than I anticipated to commandeer a jeep instead.”

“Well better late than never. Here’s your package and whatever you do don’t let them get hold of it.” He handed the agent his instructions. “Destroy that when you have it memorized.

The blond flashed him a dirty look, before glancing at the paper. Seconds later he lit a match to it and tossed into a crystal ashtray.

Solo seemed concerned about that. “How could you memorize it so quickly?”

“Eidetic memory; I recall everything I read,” the agent explained. “Do not worry your pretty Americanskii head. The package will arrive safely to its destination.”

Russian? Was Solo hearing things right? No time to question that, though he had heard rumors of a Soviet agent now working for UNCLE in the London office. "Just be careful.” Napoleon pointed to his watch, indicating the man should get going.

“Why does UNCLE have to choose such a hot places to conduct their business?” The courier asked. “The question is moot I suppose, as always, we go where we are told and do as we are told.”

“Exactly. Ours is not to reason why. Now time for you to get a move on,  don’t you think?”

“Might I have some water first? I am terribly thirsty.”

Solo pointed to a glass pitcher sitting on a nearby table. “Help yourself.”

The courier eyed a plate of stuffed harcha bread, with cheese and olive pastries alongside a bowl of dates sitting beside the pitcher.

“May I? I have not eaten since yesterday?” The blond asked, flashing a rather soulful blue-eyed look.

The fellow was pretty skinny, making Solo feel a little bad for him. This poor guy would probably be the one to not make it.

“Sure, Here put it in this.” Napoleon handed him a linen napkin and watched the man fill it, tying it closed, but not before popping one of the dates into his mouth.

“Thank you. I appreciate it, “the blond’s eyes twinkled as he draped his cloak around his shoulders; the package and his parcel of food hidden beneath it. Lastly he pulled up the tassled hood to hide his face.

The final courier disappeared out the door, leaving Solo to chuckle to himself. For a little guy he had one hell of an appetite; there was little food left on the plate.

“Damn,” Napoleon snapped his finger. He’d forgotten to ask the man his name.  Hopefully he’d be able to take the last of the THRUSH agents lurking nearby on a merry chase, but not making it look too easy and not getting himself killed in the process.

He reconned he’d find out as soon as the assignment was over if the man made it out alive or not. Seeming a bit green; Solo was surprised Waverly had sent him.

Napoleon poured himself a final glass of water, grabbing one of the remaining dates himself. He picked up the real package and after waiting a few minutes, he headed out the door; confident he’d make it to the airport without any bird trouble.

He’d given enough time for them to chase after the last courier and felt confidant his ruse would work. They’d be following him to Algiers.

Napoleon was off to Spain, and from there to London, and some nice cool air.

He reminded himself with a smile to give Maisy Pennington a call at the London office as soon as he landed in Madrid. That thought gave him something to look forward to; an intimate evening with her, sharing a cool bubble bath perhaps, a bottle of champagne and some oysters.

Mmmm...

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Another to be filed away, maybe not? I have too many of them already. Yikes! I've lost track and every time I scroll through my Google docs. I fine one I'd forgotten about. I think I need to make a master list at this point.

Really glad you liked it! I'd forgotten about the challenge and I basically wrote this around 11pm last night, then tweaked it a bit this morning. lol!

[alynwa.livejournal.com]

It was great!

A master list is a good idea. Did I tell you I lost the first chapter of a story I started some time ago? And I honestly don't remember what was in it and I just haven't felt like reconstructing it yet.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

I hear you! I actually had that happen years ago when my first (used) laptop crashed. I was writing 'The Mind Control Affair' and I lost everything! Talk about reconstructing...that was when I also discovered Google docs. So even if my computer dies, everything is safe....though I now back everything up anyway.

What I really miss was all the trad music I had on my iTunes...that was a major loss that I still haven't recouped.