T'was the UNCLE Round Robin - Chapter 5
Dec. 12th, 2016 10:07 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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section7mfu“You seem to have me at a disadvantage,” the woman replied, in an exceptionally cut-glass accent. “Who are you, and what are you doing lurking around outside my castle?”
Lady Olivia was a woman who was born into nobility, as could be evidenced by the way she carried herself. She was used to people being in awe of her beauty and wealth, but the dark-haired intruder intrigued her. His expression was that of a man who was confident of seducing any woman with a mere look. She tried not to notice the primal stirring from deep within her.
“Forgive us your ladyship,” Napoleon replied, turning up the charm another notch. “We are tourists and we got ourselves lost when night fell. We saw a light coming from this direction and were hoping to find a friendly soul who could set us on the right road.”
“I see. Do you always carry weaponry and explosives when touring a country?” asked Lady Olivia almost conversationally, indicating the pile of equipment which had been confiscated from Napoleon. “Shall we see what apparent travel essentials your friend is carrying?”
She indicated for one of the goons to search the blond. As he was divested of his own kit, Illya glanced around the ruined courtyard, searching out possible escape routes should the opportunity arise. He was under no delusion that any escape attempt would be easy, but it helped to know the lay of the land beforehand.
The centre of the courtyard was dominated by huge framework of steel and, judging by its appearance, it was still under construction. The whole thing put the Russian in mind of a drilling rig, although he knew it couldn’t possibly be such a thing. The castle was built on stone and there were no known natural resources beneath. Unless, of course, a large, deep hole was needed for a purpose Illya was reluctant to dwell on. As much as he tried not to think them, the words ‘missile silo’ presented themselves to him. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of any strategic value the area might reasonably have. Then again, when it came to THRUSH, reason wasn’t often a consideration.
Illya was dragged from his thoughts by the feel of handcuffs being fastened to his wrists. On the instruction of Lady Olivia, he and Napoleon were hauled to their feet. She leaned in close to Solo’s face, her green eyes flashing with anger.
“Given how well prepared you both are I suspect you are here to disrupt my little operation, which probably makes you U.N.C.L.E.,’ she hissed, as she ran a red-painted fingernail down his cheek. “I shall look forward to extracting your identities and your purpose.”
She stepped back and ordered the goons to ‘find somewhere to lock them up for now’.
“Make sure they are kept apart from each other,” she instructed.
Watching them go, Lady Olivia smiled to herself. Whoever these men turned out to be, she would make sure she had her fun with them; especially the dark one. That would have to wait, however, as there was still work to be done.
.
Lady Olivia was a woman who was born into nobility, as could be evidenced by the way she carried herself. She was used to people being in awe of her beauty and wealth, but the dark-haired intruder intrigued her. His expression was that of a man who was confident of seducing any woman with a mere look. She tried not to notice the primal stirring from deep within her.
“Forgive us your ladyship,” Napoleon replied, turning up the charm another notch. “We are tourists and we got ourselves lost when night fell. We saw a light coming from this direction and were hoping to find a friendly soul who could set us on the right road.”
“I see. Do you always carry weaponry and explosives when touring a country?” asked Lady Olivia almost conversationally, indicating the pile of equipment which had been confiscated from Napoleon. “Shall we see what apparent travel essentials your friend is carrying?”
She indicated for one of the goons to search the blond. As he was divested of his own kit, Illya glanced around the ruined courtyard, searching out possible escape routes should the opportunity arise. He was under no delusion that any escape attempt would be easy, but it helped to know the lay of the land beforehand.
The centre of the courtyard was dominated by huge framework of steel and, judging by its appearance, it was still under construction. The whole thing put the Russian in mind of a drilling rig, although he knew it couldn’t possibly be such a thing. The castle was built on stone and there were no known natural resources beneath. Unless, of course, a large, deep hole was needed for a purpose Illya was reluctant to dwell on. As much as he tried not to think them, the words ‘missile silo’ presented themselves to him. Try as he might, he couldn’t think of any strategic value the area might reasonably have. Then again, when it came to THRUSH, reason wasn’t often a consideration.
Illya was dragged from his thoughts by the feel of handcuffs being fastened to his wrists. On the instruction of Lady Olivia, he and Napoleon were hauled to their feet. She leaned in close to Solo’s face, her green eyes flashing with anger.
“Given how well prepared you both are I suspect you are here to disrupt my little operation, which probably makes you U.N.C.L.E.,’ she hissed, as she ran a red-painted fingernail down his cheek. “I shall look forward to extracting your identities and your purpose.”
She stepped back and ordered the goons to ‘find somewhere to lock them up for now’.
“Make sure they are kept apart from each other,” she instructed.
Watching them go, Lady Olivia smiled to herself. Whoever these men turned out to be, she would make sure she had her fun with them; especially the dark one. That would have to wait, however, as there was still work to be done.
.
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Date: 2016-12-12 09:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-12 09:30 pm (UTC)