The New Girl part 3 - PicFic 2/9

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Part 1
Part 2

The trip to UNCLE's Paris safe house took about ten minutes of what should have been a twenty minute drive to St-Germain-en-Laye.  It seemed Mark Slate was in a particular hurry and not at all intimidated by French drivers.  He left in his wake the blaring sound of honking horns and unkind phrases, all shouted in French.

Mark turned the Citroen onto a tree lined avenue in the affluent neighborhood where UNCLE chose to keep watch on important guests; in this case a very new, very female UNCLE agent.

The history of this area included occupations by Napoleon and the Nazis, something that made UNCLE's presence there audacious and somehow conciliatory.  Perhaps the better intentions of this occupation bode well for those who lived here.

April was upstairs at her bedroom window when she saw the blue Citroen pull to the curb.  She recognized it, and the driver as he emerged.

"Mark, oh thanks goodness, it's Mark."  She voiced her relief and then confusion as first Napoleon Solo and then Illya Kuryakin also got out of the car.  All three men walked to the door as April ran downstairs to meet them.

"Why are they here?  Am I already in trouble?"  She spoke out loud, and then put on the face of someone used to this type of encounter.

Mark unlocked the front door and the three men entered, coming face to face with Miss Dancer.  Napoleon's first reaction was to smile and extend his right hand, hoping to put her at ease and anxious to be a little closer to the very attractive, auburn haired agent.

"Hello Miss Dancer… April.  I am Napoleon Solo, and this is my partner Illya Kuryakin."  Illya extended his hand as well, fully aware of the blush that came across April's face as he touched her hand, enveloping it in his larger one.  Napoleon caught it as well, knew that look when it concerned his friend.

Mark was less formal, hugging his new partner and expressing his relief that she was safe.

"Oh my, I certainly have been given an impressive welcome committee.  Mark darling, of course I'm alright, but… How is Trevor?"

………..

Trevor Dalton was fully dressed when the Section III agent from the Paris office arrived to help him back to Headquarters.  Reports were flying back and forth concerning the events of the previous evening, of the enclave at the safe house and the state of the parcel responsible for all of the action.

Jean Pierre Leclerc knew Dalton, was fully briefed on the mission and those involved.  His instructions were to take the British agent to the safe house to rendezvous with the others.  This parcel was garnering more attention than most large scale missions, and the presence of Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin had triggered a respectable amount of speculation.  Several women staffers had volunteered for this assignment, and Leclerc knew it was because of the American; Solo had quite the reputation among even the French.

……..

April led the men into a living room large enough for all of them to sit comfortably, and separately.  A chaise longue was situated near a window that overlooked the garden, and was deftly avoided by each person.  It was a grouping of chairs situated around a marble top table that brought them together, allowing for the conversation to revolve around the packet that April placed there.

"I haven't looked inside gentlemen, so don't ask me what it is."  April figured it was at least a possibility to someone that she would have tried to sneak a peak at the contents.

"I'm sure you haven't April, and at the moment I am waiting to hear back from Mr. Waverly as to whether or not we will be allowed to open this package.  He has to have unanimous agreement from the other Section I Chiefs."

April looked around the table, aware that her pulse was racing.  She was trained, she was an UNCLE Section II operative; these men shouldn't make her nervous.

"What about Trevor, you haven't told me the updates on his condition."  Illya glanced sideways at Mark, then Napoleon.  He drew a breath and set about relating to April all that they knew of Dalton's escape from death and timely recovery in a French hospital.

"Oh my, that is such a relief.  I feared the worst."

Napoleon felt and then heard the warble of his communicator.  He held up his hand to silence the conversation.

"Solo here… Yes sir… Very well, we shall be on the first flight out. And sir, are we to… yes, alright we will. Solo out."

Napoleon looked around the table and was interrupted from beginning his narrative of the details by the ringing of the front doorbell.

Illya rose from the table, removed his gun from the should holster and moved towards the front door.  Everyone else at the table did the same, following behind and then lining up to engage whoever was at the door.

Illya opened the door and was immediately greeted by an UNCLE identification card.

"Monsieur, I am Jean-Pierre Leclerc, and this…"

"Trevor Dalton."

Illya stepped back and motioned the men inside to a round of handshakes and, from April, a hug that indicated how pleased she was that he was not dead.

Napoleon regained control of the room and suggested they all return to the living room and settle in for his rundown of the situation and how things would now progress.

…………

A Cessna 421 Golden Eagle touched down at  Ajaccio Napoleon Bonaparte Airport on the island of Corsica.  It was piloted by Kuryakin, with room for six other passengers.  Today the group that emerged from the plane were Napoleon Solo, Mark Slate, April Dancer and Trevor Dalton.  Illya deplaned last, his enjoyment of flying dispelled by the heat of the pavement and the Corsican sun.

Each member of this elite team of UNCLE agents was aware of the danger they would face as they assaulted the situation here on Corsica.  Waverly's packet had revealed a plot by THRUSH to poison the waters of the Mediterranean and hold them ransom.  It would affect tourism, fishing and every economy in this region.  Only UNCLE had the means to derail this hideous plot.

The first journey on land took the agents to the beach at Roccapina.  A perfect white sand beach with clear water, it was small and inviting on most days.  Today what greeted them was the center of a growing disturbance in the small coastal town.  The sight of it repulsed April to the point of trying to catch her breath before she became ill.  For the others it was another THRUSH plot to ruin and rule the world.