Explosive Beginnings

[jkkitty.livejournal.com]

One American, one Russian yet they were to work together, protecting each other backs, and achieving their assignments. Will this partnership work, after all their first meeting was explosive?  My view of their first meeting as partners.

Explosive Beginnings

The two men had been introduced, shook hands, and took chairs on opposite sides of the circular table. “So this is my new partner” each thought.   Instead of speaking, they were sizing up one other while waiting for Waverly to return from a call in his study.  Each had read his new partner’s dossier and knew about the man’s skills, specialties, and strengths, but not about the person himself.

The American, Napoleon Solo, fast rising Section 2 agent was meeting his new partner for the first time. He had no say in the matter; what Waverly ordered, you did. Others from Section 2 had offered him their sympathies for being picked to work with the ‘Commie’.

The blonde-haired man looked like a young kid. Skinny, small, and yet defiance showed in his steel blue eyes that told anyone looking into them that his innocence had long ago been taken from him.

Dressed in black clothes that appeared old and faded, he didn’t look like a GRU agent much less fit to be an UNCLE agent. The longer than normal blonde hair bucked the traditional short style worn by New York agents. The expression on his face gave no indication of what he was thinking.

The Russian, Illya Nichovetch Kuryakin, was sent to UNCLE as a representative from the USSR. He had no choice in the matter, what his government ordered, he did. He had already seen the looks of uncertainty and mistrust as he walked through the halls of UNCLE.

The brunette sitting across from him looked more like a playboy then an agent. Medium height and built, and yet his brown eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets that told those who cared to look that he had seen things that others wouldn’t believe.

Dressed in a tailored suit that fit perfectly, hair and nail immaculate, he didn’t look as if he could be an ex-special forces officer, much less an UNCLE agent. The dark hair was perfectly placed with only one small piece falling across his forehead. The smile on his face preventing an observer from discovering what he was thinking.

Neither man had said a word when Waverly returned. “Ah, Gentlemen. This will take longer than I thought. Mr. Solo, please give Mr. Kuryakin a tour of headquarters and see to it that both of you are back here by 1:00 so that we may continue this meeting,” with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the two.

As they walked out of the room, the Section 1 leader allowed one of his rare smiles. He was pleased with this pairing; they would work out well as soon as they realize it.

The two walked down the hall, the American in the lead; the Russian a few steps behind and to the right—a sight that would be seen many times in the future. Solo looked over at the newcomer.

“It can be confusing at first as all the doors are the same, but there is some sense to the layout. Do you need to get some paper or something to write it down?” Solo asked.

“No, I already have it memorized, but thank you,” Kuryakin replied.

They spend the next few hours going into different departments, and the New York agent soon found out that his new partner was not bragging; he genuinely did know what was behind each door.

As they entered another of the endless halls, this one leading to explosives area, the alarms went off. Both pulled their guns heading toward the group of people standing before them.

In the center was a man who was holding a bomb. “Don’t come any closer, I have to do this. You don’t understand; they have my family.” He shouted at them.

As if they had been doing this forever, the Russian circled around the man, while the American kept the bomber’s attention. “Be reasonable Rod, you can’t get out and if you explode that, you will die with us.”

“No way, Thrush has everyone I love, and I was told to set off this thing. I intend to follow their orders to the letter to save them.”

A nod of the head sent both men toward the bomber taking him down. The Russian grabbed the bomb before it could hit the ground.

“Everyone move back!” he demanded examining the instrument of destruction in his hands. He looked up and saw the American standing before him, “Get back, I am not sure how much time there is before it detonates.”

“Then I guess that we’ll find out together.  What do you need me to do?”

“Clear the area and get me some tools.”

Section 3 agents gathered around them gave this upstart agent a look that said ‘who do you think you are’ but when Napoleon waved them away, they left a box with tools on the floor moving everyone back behind the next safety door leaving the two men alone.

“What’s next?” Solo asked not moving with the group who had retreated behind the safety doors.

Kuryakin gave directions and the two of them disarmed the bomb, the first of many difficult situations that they would share although they didn’t know it.

Signaling to have the doors reopen, the American offered a smile and his hand to the Russian helping him stand. He accepted and what resembled a slight smile passed his lips. Other agents raced through the open door, but neither man stayed around, their work was done.

As they walked down the hall, the new agent’s stomach began to growl, “When was the last time that you ate?”

“Last night on the plane. I have not had time to get anything yet.”

The American gave him one of his amiable smiles, “Come on Illya,” his partner’s name easily rolling off his tongue, “Let’s hit the cafeteria. Can’t have my partner starving, can I?”

“Thank you Napoleon,” using his new partner’s name though not quite comfortable with it. “I am hungry. Actually if we are to work together, you should know I am always hungry.”

They sat quietly at the table, Napoleon looking at his partner’s plate overfilling with different foods.  This was to be his partner; he smiled. The word seems to fit the man much better than it did a few hours ago.

Illya glanced at the sandwich his partner had in front of him. So this was his partner; they did seem to have a rhythm maybe it will work out after all. A partner, a new experience for him but one he might just like.

After they had finished with lunch, others watched as this new team walked toward their future, and hopefully the advancement of UNCLE’s.