Happy Birthday, Cousin mrua7
Sep. 30th, 2014 01:07 am
Raise another pint and ignore them until after your birthday. Then punch 'em.

Early the next morning, Napoleon and Illya were entering the small garage of the gas station owned by Stuart Dixon, the last known contact the Derivaux and Kemp had made. Illya remained his usual quiet self as Napoleon smiled broadly and made the introductions.
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The two UNCLE agents stubbornly stared each other in the eye, not willing to be the first to give in.
“Well if you’re not going to talk about it, then I will,” Solo finally said; his gaze still focused on his Russian partner.
“I plan to do something, but a little more tactfully than you,” Kuryakin spoke at last.

“I don’t care what you say, I am not going up there in this suit. Yours won’t matter so much, all of that black... I won’t do it.”
Napoleon Solo was prepared to stand beneath the monstrous water tower for as long as it took his stubborn Russian partner to come to his senses and climb to the top and retrieve the package that was stashed there. Illya was standing equally firm on his refusal to cooperate based on his partner’s insistence that a suit should trump duty.
“You keep reminding me that you are the senior agent, by two years. Well then, as senior agent it is highly in your favor to get this job done by whatever means are necessary. That includes climbing up there in your new suit.”
Napoleon smiled at Illya, just enough to let him know it wasn’t over.
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