The New Kid on the Block~chapter 15

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link to chapter 14:  http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/188939.html
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Napoleon was seen out of the office, and escorted to his hotel room and there his hand gun was returned to him. He was puzzled why Ravel didn't take the bait, in spite of the offer of two and a half million not being chump change, to say the least. He didn't think he'd been recognized, otherwise his weapon wouldn't have been returned and he would have found himself in dire straights. He checked the clip just in case and found it intact.

The door to the penthouse suite opened silently for him and he called out, hoping April would be there. "Christina, baby doll where are you. Looks like we gotta hit the road."

There was no answer, and he assumed she was still in the casino. At least that's where he hoped she was.

Napoleon turned on the radio, and opened his communicator. "Channel F- Dancer." There was no response and that immediately had him worried. "Channel F-Kuryakin,"

"Kuryakin here."

"Illya the meeting with Oystracher was a bust. His backer is Aristede Ravel, of all people."

"Ah yes, Gervaise Ravel's brother, that could complicate matters."

"So far there's been no sign of Gervaise, lucky for me. We've been asked to leave the hotel but now to complicate matters, partner mine...I can't seem to find April. She's not answering her communicator."

There was silence at Illya's end.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes I did. What happened?" There was more concern than usual coloring his voice.

"Ravel wouldn't let her sit in on the meeting and Oystracher gave her some chips and told her to head down to the casino. She said he was making moves on her last night, trying to convince her that I'd do her harm and she needed to get away from me."

"Perhaps he has made another move on her."

"I'm going to look for her in the casino, in the meantime I think you need to start your end of the plan."

"I will be at the Club shortly...Napoleon find her. Out."

Illya was definitely concerned about April, more than Napoleon had ever heard his partner be about a woman. They just might have to have a discussion, perhaps and agreement about her. It suddenly crossed Solo's mind that she really might not be all right. He swallowed hard on that thought.

.

Two rough-looking characters approached the front desk at Diamond Jim's Club, and the clerk looked them over without reacting. He'd seen their types before and they didn't faze him in the least.

"Can I help you gentlemen?"

"You get Josef Oystracher here for me," the blond one spoke in a heavy Slavic accent, perhaps Russian, the clerk thought.

"And who may I ask are you?" He looked down his nose at them.

Illya reached over the counter grabbing the man by his shirt, while Ronnie covered the Russians back.

"Tell him, representative of Mr. Aron is here to talk business." He released the man, giving him a show backwards.

.

It took only a few minutes for Howard Jay to come down to escort Illya and Ronnie to Oystracher's office.

The man was seated behind his large desk, trying to look confident as the two men came in.

"Zdravstvuy̆te, menya zovut Y̆osyp Oyastracher , shcho ya mozhu zrobyty , shchob dopomohty vam panove_Hello, I am Joseph Oyastracher, what can I do to help you gentlemen."

"My znayemo , khto vy , ale vy znayete , khto my_We know who you are, but do you know who we are?" Illya replied in Ukrainian.

"I have no idea..."

Oystrachers sentence went unfinished as Illya pulled open his shirt, allowing the tattoos of Lenin, the star and the spider in it's web to be seen. He raised his hands, showing the letters on them, Ronnie followed suit, revealing his tattoos as well.

Oystracher stuttered, recognizing the markings of the Vory v Zakone, and that struck fear into his heart. "What do you want of me?"

"Mr. Aron is seeing very lucrative business opportunity here... and for percentage we can make sure your operation continues to function profitably." Illya sneered at the man, speaking in a low voice.

"But I have partners...backers who are very powerful. I cannot afford to lose any of my profits and …"

Illya pulled out a pearl handled switchblade, playing with it for a moment. He pointed two fingers to his Adams apple, making a cutting sound and hinting at a Russian necktie.

"Oh God, no...please not that? "Oystracher whined, cringing behind his desk as Illya took a step closer to him. "I'll do whatever you ask, but please don't kill me?"

Ronnie watched in amazement as the subdued Russian transformed himself into this picture of a menacing thug, and was a little scared of him as well.

"That is better, you cut us in for fifty percent and we will make sure no harm comes to you or your business," Illya flashed a feral smile. "Down payment one hundred thousand tomorrow afternoon will seal deal."

He knew that Oystracher would not be able to come up with that kind of cash without alerting his Thrush partners and his only alternative would be to run.

"You have vodka?" Ronnie demanded.

Oystracher pulled a bottle of Stoli chilling in a small refrigerator, and nervously poured glasses for the two Vor. He handed them some hundred dollar chips, offering them amenities in hopes it would keep them happy and get them out of his sight. He knew he had to run, and needed to do it without being noticed by them or Aristede Ravel.

"Ni, ni azartnykh ihor . U vas ye stabilʹnyy̆ ... suky tut_No, no gambling. You have stable...bitches here?" Illya demanded, thinking that's what Oystracher might have had in mind for April.

"Yes, I do, upstairs. You want women, I can do that for you." Oystracher wrung his hands together as he had begun to sweat.

"We go now." Illya ordered him.

Aristede Ravel stood in his office, ripping a photograph from the fax, sent to him from Central. It was a standard identification headshot of the man called Johnny Dio, but that's not who he was...his real name was Napoleon Solo, the number one agent in U.N.C.L.E.

"Damnation," he cursed. He could not let Central get wind of Solo snooping around. It was best to get rid of him
  before more U.N.C.L.E. agents began crawling out from the woodwork.

Ravel thought for a moment of the offer made by Solo, two and a half million and wondered if the agent actually had that much cash to make the deal look real. He was aware that a silver case of money had been locked in the hotel safe.

He smiled, thinking he would get rid of the agent and take the cash he brought with him as a little bonus, insurance if you will against a rainy day. The operation here would have to be shut down, since UNCLE was now snooping around. Still, no harm had been done, though insufficient funds had been collected to pay for the diamonds needed for the major operation.

"Curse these foreign dealers, only wanting diamonds for machinery parts...no cash isn't good enough." They insisted on only diamonds would do as they were untraceable. These bits were being bought all over the world, section by section to prevent any suspicions from arising. The pieces of the puzzle alone meant nothing, but put them together in the correct order and one could see the makings of simply a large commercial drill, yet in reality it wasn't. Aristede allowed himself to snicker at that thought. He opened the desk drawer, withdrawing a Luger pistol and caressed it in anticipation of using in on Napoleon Solo.

He pressed the button on his desk intercom. "Mr. Jay?"

"Yes sir?"

"Bring Mr. Dio to my office, tell him I have reconsidered his offer and would like to discuss the details with him." He heard a muffled sound in the background. "What is that Mr. Jay?"

"Nothing sir, just noise from the casino. I'll go get Dio right now."

Howard Jay looked down at the gagged redhead, stripped to her black lace bra and panties and tied helplessly to a bed in one of the small bedrooms on the sequestered floor where gentlemen could seek a little side entertainment.

April struggled in protest with the gag in her mouth, looking wide-eyed with fear as Howard reached down, fondling her breasts. "I'll be back to take care of you later," He stared at her with lust-filled eyes.

Once alone, she squirmed and wriggled, trying to loosen her bindings, but it was no use. She felt like an amateur, like the new kid who really couldn't handle herself after all.

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