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section7mfu2017-02-16 07:00 am
alynwa.livejournal.com) wrote in section7mfu2017-02-16 07:00 am
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February Song Story: A Tender Trap
“Yes, yes, yes, I’ve heard all about the ‘Great Napoleon Solo’ and his effect on women, but I assure you, Chairman, that I am not one to be persuaded so easily,” Cassie Howard said as she impatiently puffed on her cigarette while pacing the living room of her hotel suite with the phone cradled between her chin and shoulder. “Angelique DeChien, may she rest in peace, had a soft spot for this man and allowed him to live even when it would have been child’s play to kill him.* He’s on his way here now. No, I have been careful, I don’t think he knows I’m THRUSH. No matter if he does know; my understanding is his libido and his level of arrogance are so huge, he will make love to me anyway. Trust me: He will be coming and going at the same time.”
The Chairman started speaking and Cassie was only half – listening as she used her cigarette to light another. “I’m sorry, Sir, what was that? You don’t want him dead? Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir. Yes, Sir, but…Yes, Sir. Incapacitate him, call for extraction and bring him and the microdot directly to you. Yes.” She checked her watch. “I have to go, Sir. I expect him in ten minutes and he has always been prompt. Goodbye.”
Exactly ten minutes later, there was a knock on her door. “It’s Napoleon.”
Throwing open the door, she stood before him and allowed him to take in all her beauty. Her chocolate brown shoulder length hair was swept up into a flattering French chignon that showed off her long, slender neck to good advantage. Her little black dress featured a plunging neckline and a dangerously high side slit. Her makeup was flawless; red, pouty lips underneath smoky kohl – lined eyes. Diamonds sparkled from her ears, neck and fingers. “Hello. Come on in.”
Napoleon smiled at the vision of loveliness in front of him as he entered. “You look absolutely scrumptious, Darling! Every man in that restaurant is going to be so jealous that I’m with the most gorgeous woman in the place! Are you ready to go?” He himself was resplendent in a custom made Italian suit and shoes.
“Do you really think I look scrumptious, Dear?”
“I do.”
Cassie moved closer and put her arms around him. “I have an idea, then. Instead of going out, why don’t we…” She leaned in closer and whispered into his ear. When she finished, she leaned back and said aloud, “How does that sound to you?”
“Like my wildest dreams have come true,” he whispered before capturing her lips with his own. He kissed her gently, his tongue caressing her lips until they parted naturally for his exploration. After a moment, he stopped and asked, “Is Cassie short for Cassandra?”
“It is. Why?”
He reached down and took her hand to lead her to the bedroom. “I think Cassandra is a very sexy, exciting name and I intend to say it often.”
Cassie willingly followed him to her bedroom and when Napoleon began to make love to her, her detached mind was clinically evaluating what was happening. I have to admit, he does seem to be different from other men I’ve seduced, he is taking his time. Apparently, this isn’t going to be as fast as I’d hoped. He keeps repeating my name, I have to admit: I like it. No one’s ever done that before. Oh! The things he’s doing…I’m starting to feel…He keeps saying my name! When is he going to take me? Oh! No one’s ever done that to me before! It feels…I feel…oh, please don’t stop! It’s like I’m racing toward something, like I’m climbing! My name! He keeps saying my name! Oh, oh….! “Napoleon!”
“Are you all right, Cassandra?”
“Yes! I, um, I…feel wonderful, but…”
“But what, Cassandra?”
It’s so hard to think with his hands on me! “Um, what about you? Don’t you want…”
His kiss stopped her question. “Of course, I want; but I believe in pleasing my partner first. You seem out of breath, Cassandra, I have a flask of scotch in my jacket pocket. Let me get it for you.”
My god, how thoughtful! Now I understand why Angelique never disposed of him! He truly is the best I’ve ever had! “Thank you, Darling,” she said when he got back in the bed with large capful of liquor for her. She sniffed it to confirm the contents and downed it in one swallow. The warmth of the liquid burned its way down her throat. “This must be an excellent scotch, Napoleon, I think it’s already going to my head.”
“It should be, Cassie,” he answered gruffly, “Veritol 19 gets into one’s system very quickly.”** He grabbed her bra and tied her wrists before taking a sheet and basically swaddling her into it. She was still fairly boneless from their lovemaking and didn’t offer much resistance.
“What are you doing?” Her legs and arms were bound so tightly by the sheet that she couldn’t move.
“I’m getting dressed. What’s your middle name, Cassie?” Gone was the man who had taken her to heights she hadn’t realized existed. The man who stood before her zipping up his pants and throwing on his shirt was all cold business.
She wanted to curse him and call him every name in the book, but what came out of her mouth was, “Marilyn.”
“Cassandra Marilyn? Really?” He had sat back on the bed to put on and tie his shoes. “Doesn’t really flow, does it?”
“I was named Cassandra after my mother’s favorite sister and Marilyn after my father’s mother.” Why am I telling him that? What’s happening?
“I don’t care, but that tells me that the truth serum has taken hold. So tell me, Cassie, what is your mission? I assume you are THRUSH, am I right?”
“Yes, I’m THRUSH and my mission is to capture you and then call an extraction team to transport us and the microdot to the Central Committee.”
“’Capture me?’ It would seem that the hunter got captured by the game. Where is this microdot you mentioned?”
“In my lipstick case, on the bottom of the tube.” Cassie was horrified at how helpless she was in the face of the UNCLE truth serum.
Napoleon stood and went into the living room. When he returned, he had her purse in his hand and dumped its contents onto the bed next to her. “This one?” he asked as he held up her makeup.
“Yes.”
“Oh, good. What’s on it?”
She tried so hard not to answer, but the serum compelled her. “This month’s communication codes for THRUSH North and South America.”
“Thank you, Cassie. This information will prove quite useful, I’m sure. I’m leaving you, now. Once the drug and the ah…afterglow wear off, I’m sure you’ll be able to free yourself.”
“Wait! You were so gentle with me, so caring, so giving! You said the most beautiful things. Was any of it real?”
“No.”
Hours later, Napoleon was back in New York Headquarters. He had been debriefed by the Old Man to whom he had given the microdot which was now being analyzed by Section IV. He was now sitting in his shared office with his partner, who was keeping him company while he wrote out the official report.
The Russian looked up to see his partner staring off into space. “Napoleon!” he called, “It is after seven, I am hungry and we are supposed to be going out to dinner. Either finish your report, or I am going home to eat my leftovers.”
“Huh? I’m sorry, Illya, I was just thinking about my assignment earlier today. For some reason, it made me think about Sara Franks.”***
“The young lady in Translations who quit because of you? What made you think of her?”
“We’re trained in the art of seduction to get what we need and want. I had to seduce a woman today. She reeked of cigarettes which made me have zero interest in her sexually, but I did what I had to do.”
“And you thought of Sara because…?”
“Because, like my mark today, she believed me. She believed what I said to her, she believed the passion I showed her to camouflage the fact that I was using her for my own release. When I realized she had taken it all to heart, I dropped her flat, just like I walked away today.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose and the Russian was stunned to see a sadness in him.
Illya turned so that he was facing Napoleon across their desks. “And what are you telling yourself about these two situations?”
“I’m wondering if I know the difference between my personal life and the job anymore. We’re spies. We’re trained to befriend and use people to accomplish our goals and then, discard them like yesterday’s newspapers. I mean, Section IIs can’t offer commitments because…well, we can’t, but assuming I survive the field, well…what if I just can’t do it? What if I can’t love anyone enough to do it?”
Illya allowed himself to smile affectionately at his partner. “Napoleon, have we not already agreed that discussing ‘what if’ scenarios will only drive us insane? You had a job to do; you did it. Now, I am giving an order to my senior agent: Finish your report, hand it to the Secretarial pool, accompany me to dinner and push this matter out of your mind. There is no answer at this point in time to those questions.”
“You’re right, Tovarisch. I’ll be done in a few. Thanks for setting me straight.”
“Someone has to.”
*ref. my tale “Predators and Prey”
**Veritol 19 is a truth serum developed by Illya Kuryakin and referenced in several of my stories.
***ref. my tale “A Broken Heart”
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