section7mfu | The New Kid on the Block~chapter 6

link to chapter 5: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/171665.html
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Illya landed the jet smoothly at McCarron Airport, taxiing it to an easy stop at the terminal.

The building was a rather impressive sight, and had been recently relocated from Las Vegas Boulevard South to Paradise Road. It's design had been inspired by the TWA terminal at JFK, an airport the Russian was very familiar with. Before April and his partner disembarked, he stepped from the cockpit to see them off.

He couldn't help but notice April's attire and uncharacteristically he looked her up and down, trying to hide his smile. She was stunning but his actions were not lost on Napoleon as he turned to him.

"Good luck with the assignment. I will be nearby so if you are in need of any assistance, do not hesitate...pozhaluysta." He reached out, slapping Napoleon on the back with one hand, but what his partner didn't realize, the sneaky Russian had just slipped a paper thin homing disc to American's tie bar. The art of distraction always worked well for Illya.

He knew it wasn't right, but had a bad feeling about not being there to watch his partner's back; not that April couldn't, but still she was not a seasoned agent. He wondered how well Napoleon could work with a woman, especially one he was attracted to.

There was another more dangerous concern that occurred to him, but left unsaid; of the eleven major casino hotels that had opened in the previous decade in Las Vegas ten were believed to have been financed with mob money. That influence made him just a bit nervous for his partner and April. If the mafia were in bed with T.H.R.U.S.H... that could make for a formidable combination. It was for that reason he put the tracker on Napoleon's tie bar, just in case.

April saw what he'd done and smiled as Illya quickly put his finger to his lips, telling her to be silent. She winked at him in reply.

"Good luck with your mission as well tovarisch,"Napoleon said as he walked toward the cabin door. "it seems strange parting ways for an assignment like this doesn't it?"

Illya nodded, and turned to April. "Good luck to you as well." He smiled shyly at her.

"Thank you Illya," she replied and followed Napoleon off the plane.

The two agents caught a taxi, taking them to downtown Las Vegas along Freemont Street where most of the casinos were located.

Their destination was the 'The Diamond Jim Club', and there accommodations were booked for them at the hotel.

Napoleon passed a tip to the taxi driver as he stepped out, offering his hand to April."

The bell boy hurried to take their luggage inside and before they walked into the hotel lobby, Solo took a deep breath, placing April's hand on his arm.

"Here we go kiddo."

They made a grand entrance, bedecked and bejeweled in their finery. Napoleon laughed out loud, pretending she'd just said something amusing.

"Hey baby, the sky's the limit for you. Anything you want, you name it."

"Really, Johnny?" she called him by his cover name." I can't wait to do some gambling."

"I'm ready for that." He laughed again, raising a silver briefcase to the front desk.

"Yeah, I have a reservation for two. The name's Dio, Johnny Dio," Napoleon had chosen that name with a purpose as it hinted to the famed mobster Johnny Dioguardi back in New York. It would no doubt make the hotel management stand up and take notice, that and the silver money case.

"And I want this case locked in the hotel safe, and it better stay safe." He warned the clerk. "I have a load of money in there."

An olive-skinned man walked behind the front desk; his ears perking up at that statement, as he eyed Napoleon and his lovely companion. He looked at the hotel register to see the name.

"Ah yes, Mr. Dio, welcome. It's not everyday we get someone to book our penthouse suite. Please let me personally show you to your rooms. I'm Mr. Howard Jay, the manager. " He snapped his fingers for the bell boy to follow with the luggage.

Napoleon scanned the weasel faced man causally, noting a bulge under his shark-skin suit jacket that was just the right size to be a handgun. Sharkskin...he thought that an unusual choice for a hotel manager as he would have expected something more uniform-like, but then again, this was Vegas.

Elevator number two opened to the top floor, and Jay unlocked the white double doors to the sitting room of the suite.

The digs were opulent, as April strolled around, admiring the furnishings done in the French provincial style, all off-white and gold.

"Is there anything you might like to do Miss while you're staying with us? "Jay asked. "We do have personal masseuse services, a sauna, as well as an olympic size indoor swimming pool."

"Hey, nobody's laying a hand on her except me, got it Howie?" Napoleon warned. "But as to 'my' needs...I want to meet with the owner to discuss a business deal, capisce?

"Sorry sir, I didn't mean anything by it. And yes of course sir, I'll make sure Mr. Oystacher gets your message. He's a pretty busy man though, so I can't make no promises."

"I don't want to hear that Howie, now you be a good boy and do as you're told."

"Come on now Johnny," April interrupted, " just tip the man. I'm hungry and want to change for dinner.'

"Okay baby," he smiled, taking out his gold money clip and pulling a twenty dollar bill, he offered it to the man.

"That won't be necessary, thank you. I hope you enjoy your stay at Diamond Jim's." Jay closed the double doors behind him but once outside, he sneered, as he hated being called Howie. He took an instant dislike to Dio, but the dame, on the other hand, she was a real looker. He wouldn't mind a roll in bed with her.

"Oystacher, that's a Ukrainian name, "April said unpacking her things, "Maybe Illya would have been better suited to this after all."

"Look, will you get it through your thick red-head that you'll be fine. You don't think I already knew the owner was Ukrainian, as in 'immigrant'. I also know you speak Russian as do I, so we'll have no issues in communicating with him as the two languages are very similar and he no doubt speaks Russian himself. That might make him more at ease...part of the lure."

"Point taken Napoleon...do you think he's Russian mafia?"

"Not sure, but he's been purported to have ties with Meyer Lansky..." Napoleon suddenly changed the subject.

"Wow, will you look at this place, pretty fancy. I'm shocked Mr. Waverly approved it. Accounting usually has him leaning toward the frugal side when it comes to our hotel arrangements when in the field; the frugality of which you'll eventually have to work out , I suppose, with Mark and..."

"What do you mean, this place is far from being frugal?" April suddenly realized there was only one bed when she walked into the room.

"Ooooh no." She wagged her finger at him.

"April it's a king sized bed, trust me I'll be on my best behavior."

She looked around the room, seeing only a loveseat. "Well there's the sofa in the sitting room?"

"Too narrow...hey, you're not going to make me sleep in the bathtub are you?" Napoleon looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

"No, you can sleep on the floor." She smiled at him. "Oh well, buck up as Mr. Waverly said."

Napoleon crinkled his nose, turning his back on her in a huff and unpacking his suitcase. He set about hanging up his suits in the closet beside her couture collection. "I'm going to change, if you'll excuse me," he said curtly, heading towards the bathroom.

By the time he returned April had dressed herself in a deep green sleeveless dress. Like the other dress she'd worn for their entrance, it was tight-fitting and spectacular. She'd pinned her hair up into French twist and anchored it in place with a rhinestone comb she'd brought with her and put on the diamond pieces that wardrobe had given her and had just added the finishing touches to her makeup.

"Wow," was all Solo could say.

"Thank you," she smiled, taking a twirl with the mink coat draped over her shoulder. "Now let's go. I really am just famished. That sandwich on the plane did go very far. I feel like eating a nice big juicy steak."

"Hmmm, have you been talking to my partner again, as you sure sound like him."

"What?"

"Nothing, never mind." He smiled, thinking of Illya and his appetite, and wondered if April had this same 'high metabolism' thing that allowed his partner to eat so much and yet remain so thin.