Mar. 26th, 2019

[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com

The next morning Napoleon, Illya, April and Mark brought some chairs out into the courtyard of the field office. It was sunny and warm and the streets were quiet now that Mardi Gras was officially over, still in bars all over the city people were still celebrating. The police were being kept busy, needless to say.


“This is nice,”Napoleon said. “Shame we don’t have anything like it back in New York.


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[identity profile] mrua7.livejournal.com
I almost forgot to post this!


The prompt:


Napoleon and Illya were given a room together in the Medical Suite located at the New York Headquarters of the U.N.C.L.E.


They’d suffered multiple injuries, not on an assignment but if a rather messy car wreck in lower Manhattan.


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[identity profile] jantojones.livejournal.com
“They could be anywhere in that crowd,” stated junior Thrush agent Gregory Carson, as he searched the masked revellers of Mardi Gras. “How are we supposed to spot Solo or Kuryakin?”

“I will know them,” replied his superior.

“Especially Solo I imagine,” sneered Carson. “given how well you know him, Angelique.”

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