Higher Objectives - PicFic 4/19

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

I could not figure out a way to fit this picture into the New Girl story, so... stay tuned for that story to continue next week.
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"What? Are you sure sir?  I mean, it seems… I mean, well…"

"Well what mister Solo?"  The old man didn't flinch.  He had a plan, obviously, and Napoleon somehow lacked a clue to how it would work.

Illya sat and waited, unsure about the entire scenario and completely unfamiliar with the image being projected onto the overhead screen.

"Excuse me, but… what exactly are we looking at?" The Russian was looking at the well dressed man without understanding the reference to brushes.  Was he in the salon industry somehow?

"Oh, yes… er… mister Kuryakin… ' Waverly fumbled for his pipe as he glanced back at the picture of a Fuller Brush salesman.  He silently chuckled at the looks on his agent's faces, certain that Solo was more flummoxed than the Russian.

"Your mission is to infiltrate a satrapy in the area known as Little Odessa, in Brighton Beach.  It seems that Fuller Brushes can do so without raising any eyebrows, so to speak.  Mister Kuryakin will be able to speak to those living in that area, perhaps gain some intelligence regarding the THRUSH presence there."

Napoleon cocked his head, straightened his cuffs and resigned himself to whatever it was he would be doing on this mission.  Illya was still trying to figure out what it was he would be doing with a briefcase full of brushes.

………..

Two days later found the agents reporting back in to Waverly regarding their findings.  Illya had enjoyed his day, in spite of its inherent spy-like nature.  He had spoken to people from his homeland, immigrants who had come to America for various reasons and welcomed him as one of their own.  One lady had even invited him in for a lunch of pierogis that were left from the previous night's meal.  He had spent an hour with her, learning during that session about some mysterious people who occupied a building on the next block. She knew about it from her cousin Irina who lived two doors down and had been told the story by the butcher, whose business was next door to the strange enterprise.

"I believe that will be our THRUSH satrapy sir.  The residents all seem quite disturbed by its presence, and without wanting to be involved in any trouble, they are anxious for its removal."

Napoleon had spent his day tracking down identities to the men who had gone in and out of the building in question, once Illya obtained its location.  It was a roster of THRUSH  personnel known to the Command, including the man who was apparently in charge.  The entire operation had been a success with so few hours involved it seemed too easy.  But as far as they knew, they had everyone associated with the Brighton Beach satrapy.

"Sir, is it possible that this is merely a front for a bigger, hidden operation?  I find it hard to believe that THRUSH has made it this easy for us to identify and shut down this satrapy."  Napoleon was a strategist, and as such he was disbelieving of something so effortless where THRUSH was concerned.

"I believe you have hit the proverbial nail on its aching head, mister Solo.  These people, this so-called satrapy, is merely a doorway into a much larger danger.  It would seem that THRUSH has allowed us this meager offering in order to dissuade us from pursuing anything else.  They have misjudged me, and UNCLE on that count."

Napoleon and Illya exchanged glances that spoke to their agreement and anticipation of what was coming next.

"Sir, are we then to continue our infiltration of this community?"  Illya had enjoyed his day in Brighton Beach, and did not discount the opportunity to return.

Waverly shook his head.

"No, you gentlemen have fulfilled your roles in this operation… for now.' At the look of confusion on his men's faces, the Old Man continued.

"Mister Kuryakin, you have been seen in the neighborhood, and if you return in another guise the word will spread.  I have no doubt that there are THRUSH among the civilians, we cannot take that chance.  As for you mister Solo,' Waverly fumbled for words…

"You simply do not fit into that environment.  You understand."

Napoleon did understand, although he felt he was being denied the opportunity to at least try.

"So, who is going to handle this … um, situation?" Waverly's CEA wouldn't protest, but he did want some answers as to the future of this affair.

Alexander Waverly was unaccustomed to passing his cases onto government entities.  In this instance, however, with current sensibilities and politics in play, he had made a decision that would contradict his normal practice.

"I am handing this over to the FBI.  This THRUSH presence, as best we can discern at this time, does have some … there seems to be a matter of national security to the United States.  That is not our domain, and so we will be relinquishing the case files and all other pertinent information to the Bureau."

Illya and Napoleon understood, but each of them had to wonder just how sensitive this operation was, and whether or not part of the problem was UNCLE's Soviet agent.  Waverly saw it, even though each man thought his reaction was unobservable.

"I will not subject my people to any type of investigation regarding their allegiance to the Command.  It is best that we do not engage in this operation.  Am I clear?"

"Yes sir" in unison was the reply.

Comments

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

I'm looking forward to how people continue the story. I hope you'll be along for the ride.

[avery11.livejournal.com]

Looking forward to it! I've already read Marion's entry, so waiting to see what comes next.