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section7mfuThe prompt: What if Illya only worked in Section VIII?
“Another one Mr. Solo?” Alexander Waverly’s frustration was evident in his tone of voice.
Napoleon held his head up high, not letting his boss’s ire get to him.
“And what may I ask was the problem his time?”
“He got on my nerves, and was constantly peering over my shoulder, second guessing me. Honestly Mr. Waverly, the man just couldn’t keep up with me and that’s a distraction. I feel like I spend much of my time babysitting these agents. Sir this is exactly the reason why I don’t need a partner.”
The Old Man cleared his throat.”Yes, I understand others have trouble matching your skills, but these men are far from incompetent.”
“Well something's wrong as too many of them have gotten themselves hurt while trying to…well, do you really want me to slow down? I can get a job done more efficiently on my own. Mr. Waverly I just don’t want or need another partner.”
“Young man, I don’t give a tinker’s damn what you want...you will have a partner.”
“Then give me someone intelligent who can operate independently and won’t bother me while I work. I need someone who can keep up, bottom line.”
“Then take these folders,” Waverly sent the table spinning round. “Go through them and you choose this time, but choose wisely as I am not inclined to do this again and that’s final. Now dismissed.”
Solo gathered up the stack of files, four of them to be precise, and he disappeared to the bullpen to look them over; it was times like this he wished he had his own office.
After getting himself a cup of black coffee from the urn, he sat in a chair over in the corner of the room. There were others present as it was where agents would wait to be called for assignment. There was conversation, some played cards other reading the New York Times. A small television was in the far corner but it was rarely watched,
Most had their own desks, in the next room but they were set up like the secretarial pool, row upon row...a little sea of desks with a sea of agents.
Napoleon disliked that uniformity, even though he was the best of the best, he felt like he was just one among dare he say sheep. Not that his fellow agents were that, but they were all part of a flock.
Solo fancied himself more of the black sheep perhaps?
He took a big gulp of his coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in as he was tired. His date with Ramona Murphy was a long and lively one since they ended up back at her apartment for the night.
The woman was a real wildcat in bed, and though he had a wonderfully lustful time with her, his getup and go finally got up and went. He had to be up early to meet with Waverly, so he bid Ramona adieu with a wave and a kiss before the sun had come up.
Napoleon flipped through the first folder, a fellow named Dieter Drumph, out of the West Berlin headquarters. So the Old Man was importing potential partners now?
His eyebrows raised as he looked at the man’s credentials. Did well at Survival School, was efficient, organized, maybe too organized and a bit of a goose-stepper. Napoleon blushed at making that comparison as it really wasn’t very nice, and leaned towards bias. He really didn’t give a hoot about the man being a German, it was his personality that didn’t seem like a good fit. Napoleon knew he and Dieter would butt heads from the get go, that was his gut instinct.
The next one was François Merlot...he remembered this guy. They did an assignment in Paris once. As Napoleon recalled the man was a bit stuck up, and looked down his nose at him because he apparently didn’t care for Americans.
“Excuse me Mr. Solo?” A slightly built blond with shaggy hair stood to the side of his chair. He was wearing wire rimmed glasses and a white lab coat.
“And you are?” Napoleon looked up.
“Kuryakin, Section VIII. I have something for you to look at as I was told you were lead agent in Section II.”
“That’s right, now what can I do you for?”
“Beg pardon?”
Napoleon clicked his tongue. He’d heard about this guy...a real egghead sent to UNCLE by the Kremlin. Waverly wanted someone he could put in the field but this one ended up being so talented in the labs that he being kept there. This guy as a field agent? He looked like a good gust of wind would knock him over.
“What can I do for you?” Napoleon rephrased the question.
“Oh, not what you can do for me, but rather what I can do for you.” He held up a silver pen. “This is a prototype of new communications device that I have been working on and if it performs well then it will replace the cumbersome cigarette case that field agents use.”
“Really,” Napoleon’s lower lip protruded as he took the device in his hand. “Nice, lightweight.”
He took note of the man’s accent, thinking it had been a good idea to keep him out of the field as once he opened his mouth, it would be obvious he was a Russian, yet in an odd way he sounded a bit British as well.
“Thank you Mr. Solo, in addition to being a communicator, it can also be used as a tracking device to home in on signal from homing disc. In secret compartment within cap there is small opening where capsule B can be stored. This communicator also has an option of turning off the audio signal when silence is needed and in its place there is slight vibration to alert an agent to an incoming call. Oh, and it is also a working writing implement.”
“Nice, very nice. What did you say your name was again?”
“Illya Kuryakin sir. Please, I do ask that you be careful with it as it is a prototype. It can interact with the standard communicator and I do not anticipate any issues, but of course you will let me know if there are any problems with it in the field? I would suggest you still carry your cigarette case if in the event of a malfunction, but I do not believe anything going wrong.”
“Well spasibo tovarisch Kuryakin.”Napoleon nodded. “Scout’s honor I’ll take good care of your baby.”
“Baby? I do not have baby. I am not married, sir.”
“Tsk. It just means that I’ll take care of your prototype.”
“Oh, well...you could have said that in first place. I will take it as honest promise Mr. Solo and just a suggestion; you need to work on your Russian accent. No one would ever take you for a native speaker. Good day, oh if you have any further questions I will be in Commissary.”
The man turned and left Napoleon to his task.
Solo picked up the next folder and looked at it…
“What the hell? The name on it was Illya Kuryakin.
He thumbed through it, his eyebrows cocked in surprise.
Kuryakin was ex-Soviet Military Intelligence. He aced Survival School, even breaking a number of Napoleon’s records. He’d gone straight from Moscow to be stationed for three years in London under Harry Beldon before being transferred to New York.
The guy was more than proficient with a gun, explosives expert, spoke dozens of languages fluently, and in his previous assignment he was known for being one of the best second story men around. The list of his abilities went on and on, as well as his accomplishments while working in the labs.
So why wasn’t he put straight into the field? Something didn’t seem right.
As he read on regarding Kuryakin’s psych analysis, a red flag went up.
“Bingo,” Napoleon whispered.
“Has social issues and doesn’t work well with others, prefers to work on his own. That sounds familiar. I did ask for someone intelligent who could work independently, but I think a screwy science geek is carrying things a bit too far and he has problems with understanding simple idioms too.” That thought made Napoleon chuckle. What would he have to do, stop to explain everything to this guy?
He tossed aside the folder, going onto the next. “I’d have to be desperate to go with this one too and that one was tossed as well.
Seemed Waverly was giving him nothing but foreigners to choose from; he supposed it made sense as all his other partners had been Americans.
As Napoleon glanced through all the folders one last time, he realized that none of these men were just his cup of tea.
Waverly was going to have to decide after all. Whoever the Old Man picked probably wouldn’t last, just like all the others.
Napoleon sipped the remainder of his coffee, feeling self assured he’d remain simply ‘solo.’
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Date: 2017-01-25 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-25 07:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-25 08:28 pm (UTC)Also, 'a bit of a goose-stepper called Drumph'? Anyone we know, LOL.
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Date: 2017-01-25 08:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-25 10:28 pm (UTC)Love this - really begs for an epilogue or a continuation. VERY good.
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Date: 2017-01-25 10:34 pm (UTC)Thanks for the comment and glad you liked it.
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Date: 2017-01-26 03:46 am (UTC)Wonderful Napoleon. I too want this to continue. How about Waverly pairing Solo and Illya, and then their first case together, with this new background.
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Date: 2017-01-26 03:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-26 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-26 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-27 04:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-01-27 05:24 pm (UTC)I need to think this one out carefully as I don't want it to predictable; continuing with this AU scenario will take some pondering.