WIP, Chapter 2
Feb. 9th, 2020 01:23 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
I seem to have a Work in Progress happening. Maybe a break from thinking about all the challenges was what I needed. Anyway here is the next installment. If you missed the first one, click here.
Mark Slate and April Dancer had led the Strike Team that had liberated Solo and Kuryakin from the clutches of the South American despot who fancied himself another Mussolini. The four agents were now flying home on the UNCLE jet. It was the first time the junior agents had flown on it and they were both wishing they were on Pan Am.
“What is going on with them?” April whispered to her partner, “Napoleon’s been looking like a storm cloud ever since we rescued them and has been as talkative as a rock and Illya looks like he can’t decide whether to be angry or upset that someone’s kicked his cat!”
“Well, you date ‘im, Luv, so go over there and ask ‘im what’s the matter. I’ll wait here.”
“Oh no, you don’t! I’m not walking into the lion’s den while you sit in safety! If I walk to the front of the cabin to speak with Illya, you’re going to the back of the cabin to speak with Napoleon!”
They both turned their heads to glance back at their CEA, who sat strapped into one of the plush leather seats reading a magazine while holding a large Scotch in his right hand. He hadn’t spoken since thanking them for breaking him and Illya out of confinement. They then snuck a peek at Napoleon’s partner who sat up near the cockpit nursing a bottle of vodka.
They looked at each other and shook their heads in mutual agreement to stay right where they were. “It’s too bad,” Mark sighed as he reached for one of the sandwiches the stewardesses had supplied each grouping of agents, “I always envisioned being on the UNCLE jet as one flight long party, especially after saving one of our own and here we’ve saved not only the CEA and his partner, but we’ve set in motion a series of events that will overthrow that corrupt government and I feel like I’m attending a funeral.”
“I know what you mean, Darling. I just hope the funeral we’re attending isn’t for Napoleon and Illya’s partnership.”
Mark Slate and April Dancer had led the Strike Team that had liberated Solo and Kuryakin from the clutches of the South American despot who fancied himself another Mussolini. The four agents were now flying home on the UNCLE jet. It was the first time the junior agents had flown on it and they were both wishing they were on Pan Am.
“What is going on with them?” April whispered to her partner, “Napoleon’s been looking like a storm cloud ever since we rescued them and has been as talkative as a rock and Illya looks like he can’t decide whether to be angry or upset that someone’s kicked his cat!”
“Well, you date ‘im, Luv, so go over there and ask ‘im what’s the matter. I’ll wait here.”
“Oh no, you don’t! I’m not walking into the lion’s den while you sit in safety! If I walk to the front of the cabin to speak with Illya, you’re going to the back of the cabin to speak with Napoleon!”
They both turned their heads to glance back at their CEA, who sat strapped into one of the plush leather seats reading a magazine while holding a large Scotch in his right hand. He hadn’t spoken since thanking them for breaking him and Illya out of confinement. They then snuck a peek at Napoleon’s partner who sat up near the cockpit nursing a bottle of vodka.
They looked at each other and shook their heads in mutual agreement to stay right where they were. “It’s too bad,” Mark sighed as he reached for one of the sandwiches the stewardesses had supplied each grouping of agents, “I always envisioned being on the UNCLE jet as one flight long party, especially after saving one of our own and here we’ve saved not only the CEA and his partner, but we’ve set in motion a series of events that will overthrow that corrupt government and I feel like I’m attending a funeral.”
“I know what you mean, Darling. I just hope the funeral we’re attending isn’t for Napoleon and Illya’s partnership.”