Weather It Out - PicFic 9/5

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

A day late, but it's PicFic nonetheless :D
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THRUSH was at it again, trying to manipulate the weather with one of their outrageous scientific inventions.  Weather machines were the stuff of science fiction, and yet here was one in the hands of the most dangerous criminal organization in the world.

Alexander Waverly sat at his desk, the round table upon which plans were pondered and perfected for battling the likes of THRUSH.  Along with Waverly sat his two top agents, Napoleon  Solo and Illya Kuryakin.  Both men were equally somber, the catastrophic weather reports coming in from the area around Hillah, in Iraq.  It's proximity to the fabled Hanging Gardens of Babylon made it a particularly ironic target for the weather distortions, producing unnatural temperatures and a snow storm that threatened to kill vegetation unique to the region.

As the reports were examined and photographs of the freakish weather reviewed, April Dancer and Mark Slate appeared, the swish of the pneumatic doors announcing their arrival.

"Miss Dancer, Mister Slate, what do you have for us?"  The Old Man looked his age today, ever craggy line etched with the weight of another menace that needed their skill and expertise for saving the world.

April looked at her partner and proceeded as the British agent nodded his head.

"Sir, having just returned from the affected region, we can report that the storm is real.  There is snow on the ground and the temperatures are dipping near zero.  Homes are without water, businesses are closed.  Hillah is like a ghost town."  April sighed at the end of her last sentence.  The scene was disturbing.

Waverly picked up a pipe and unconsciously felt the comfort of its familiar textures, the aroma of tobacco acting like a sedative.

"And?" He waited for the rest of her report, knew there was more to the story.  April swallowed hard and continued.

"We did locate the machine, but it is heavily guarded.  I've, we've never seen a THRUSH compound so well guarded.  It would take an army to break through the line of defense they've established… sir."  She hated delivering bad news, and this was as bad as she could imagine.  Not being able to stop THRUSH was something that just didn't happen.

Waverly took a deep breath before addressing his agents.

"Mr. Solo?"  Napoleon had already begun to formulate a plan.  THRUSH was good at what they did, but UNCLE was better.  April and Mark lacked the experience he and Illya shared in the field, their sheer will to always take down the Hierarchy.

"I believe there will be a way in once Illya and I see it firsthand.  If April and Mark are right, the region will be ruined within days if we don't stop this freezing weather.  I just don't understand why they chose this particular location."

"It is the ancient site of Babylon, the place from which King Nebuchadnezzar reigned and built the fabled Hanging Gardens of Babylon.  It would be a coup of sorts to bring to ruin one of the locations known as one of the seven wonders of the world."  Illya had reservations about the gardens, whether or not they had actually existed.  He did not doubt, however, that THRUSH would delight in destroying history and the monuments dedicated to it.  Their new world order did not include paying homage to that which came before.

"Very well then, you four are to stop this, and the sooner the better.  You can report in once you have seen it and established a plan of action.' Waverly paused, looking at each agent with the concern of teacher for his star pupils.

"This machine must not survive." To himself he thought, 'but you four must'.

Four heads nodded in unison, and then they were gone.  Napoleon led the way as each of them began to mentally prepare for this harrowing assignment.

The flight into Iraq was uneventful, the majority of their time spent formulating a plan and examine the notes from April and Mark's report.  Illya and Napoleon were senior agents among the four, but Dancer and Slate were rising stars in the Command.  As the only female agent among them, April's role would become pivotal to the plan.  The compound had a commissary that employed locals, and April would be a welcome addition if their estimation of the management was correct.  She spoke Arabic, and so could no doubt convince a THRUSH employee that she was of both Iraqi and European heritage.

Illya had the scientific knowledge necessary to infiltrate and engage within the people responsible for this weather machine.  Bypassing actual employment would need to be accomplished by his natural ability to sneak in and simply be in the middle of things.  Napoleon still marveled at the chameleon like nature of his Russian partner.

Mark and Napoleon would monitor the operation, with Solo being in communication with the government agents who were cooperating with the UNCLE presence.  The nation of Iraq was hanging onto the ancient roots while battling the influence of the Western world.  Political turmoil and the threat of a coup was a constant source of concern to the current military rule of Abdul Salam Arif.  The THRUSH threat was seen as a ploy to undermine the regime, which was the only reason that UNCLE was being allowed to operate within the borders of Iraq.

Within hours of landing, the team was in motion.  April was admitted to the employ of the commissary, as expected.  She charmed the man in charge and influenced his decision to overlook what might otherwise have drawn attention to her.  She dressed the part and spoke the language, proof enough to a man eager to please a pretty woman.

Illya, meanwhile, snuck into the compound inside a truck that carried supplies for the guards.  They were as mired in cold and snow as the residents, and THRUSH was providing the essentials necessary to keep their troops ready for action.  The appearance of a guard within the piles of blankets and coats was not cause for alarm, and he quickly jumped down and began helping to unload the truck, carrying items inside and then disappearing from that operation.  When he reappeared it was in the clothing reserved for lab personnel, complete with an ID badge removed from the first of several unfortunate victims.

April was assigned the job of delivering and serving meals to the commandant in charge of the compound.  Charles Pardue was an Englishman with a penchant for  pretty girls and the accoutrements of power.  He had an office and private quarters decked out in Regency opulence, the ideal of a man whose own military career had been cut short due to a tendency towards disobeying orders; he had in fact fled the service of Her Majesty and landed in the bowels of THRUSH.

April had a tray trolley full of the evening meal, two bottles of red wine and a compote of figs and honey that was topped with yogurt.  As she knocked at the door of Charles Pardue, she took a deep breath and prepared to play the role of a woman born into uncertainty and lack.  She was the perfect foil for Pardue's weaknesses.

"Come in." The curt response to her knock on the massive door was authoritarian.

April entered behind the cart she was pushing, her uniform hugging the svelte figure, auburn hair peeking out from beneath a traditional burka.

"Your supper, sir.  May I serve you?"  She spoke in an accented English that would have convinced anyone of her mixed heritage.

Pardue looked up at the sound of her voice.  He did a double take as he consumed her image with his eyes.  He was a greedy man, and suddenly his appetite turned to pretty women and the delights they might bring.

"Yes, please.  You're new, aren't you?"   He kept track of his personnel as it pertained to his particular interests.  He was aware of the women who populated the food services.  They were locals, sweet young things and older women, all of them his for the picking.  This one was very different to the others.

April saw his mind at work, calculated just how far she could go with the ruse.

"Yes sir, I have only just begun this day.  My father sent me, our family… well, I am here."  She left it open for him to conjecture the depth of her need.  If it was money, then she could be well compensated.

"You are not from Iraq, you don't look it."

"No sir, my mother is English, but I was raised here by my father's family."  Ah, that would account for the accent.  Pardue looked her over, deciding that he should not be so anxious.  She would wait, he would wait.

"Very well, then.  You may go, I shall ring when I finish."  April was relieved to not be asked to do anything more than deliver the food.  She  hoped that Illya was quick about cracking the code to the weather machine.

"Thank you, sir."  April left the room and headed back to the kitchen.  It wouldn't be safe to start snooping around just yet.

The building being occupied by THRUSH was newly constructed, but made to look like one of the ancient structures of the area.  Deep within its bowels was the weather machine, a marvel of science that could be brought up to the surface in order to execute its commands.  Illya was able to locate it easily enough; the trick would be to dismantle it.

He carried a clipboard, wore a pair of black eyeglasses intended to intensify the image of a scientist.   As he examined the machine he looked for any exposed wires or switches that might allow him to easily sabotage it.  The casement  was seamless, with no visible openings through which to gain access.  Illya was having trouble figuring out how they had done this, there had to be a way inside the machine.

"What are you doing?"  The voice was demanding, and female. Illya stood up and faced his interrogator.

"I was checking to make certain the housing is impenetrable."  It was the best he could come up with.  The woman was from the region he thought; black hair and olive skin.  She was very pretty, not an unpleasant development.

"I wasn't aware that there were any doubts about the housing.  Who are you?"  She looked at his badge, assessing the credentials against her suspicions.

"Victor Durning."  He lied without any hesitation.

Sophia Pasha smiled at the good looking blond.  She knew he wasn't Durning, but decided to play this out until she could determine just who he really was.

"Oh yes, Mr. Durning.  I was aware that you were involved with this project.  Perhaps you can fill me in on the most recent developments concerning the weather machine."

Memories of another affair crept into Kuryakin's vision; he had stood in front of a group of scientist in France and tried to explain the machinations of a missile, failing miserably before being escorted to a guillotine.

"I am not privy to the latest information Miss…?  He couldn't fake her name, and decided to play his part without drifting into areas he couldn't control.

"Miss Pasha.  Actually, Victor and I are good friends, which leads me to ask again; who are you?"  

Illya smiled at the woman, reluctant to become physical and determined to not get caught and thrown into a cell.  Something about her seemed inconsistent with his experience with THRUSH women.  She didn't fit the profile, although that assessment had been made in less time than he usually spent scoping out a situation.  He decided to take a chance, because regardless of her reaction, he was found out.

"My name is Illya Kuryakin, and I am from the U.N.C.L.E.  I imagine you have heard of it."  That last was accompanied by a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, that secret smile intended to lure a person into his schemes.

To his surprise, Sophia Pasha smiled in return; not a vindictive sneer so common among THRUSH.  Instead her face showed a glimmer of relief.

"Well, it's about bloody time.  I thought you'd never get here."  Her acquisition of a British accent defied the previous persona that she presented.

"Come on, let me show you around and then let's dismantle this thing and get out of here."  Illya was surprised, pleasantly so.  But now it was his turn to ask a few questions.

"So… who exactly are you?"  His voice lowered almost to a growl as he asked for her identity, and an explanation of what she was doing here at the THRUSH compound.

"I am, as already stated, Sophia Pasha.  I am an agent of MI6, and have been here undercover for several months.  THRUSH thinks I have defected from British Intelligence, but I am here for the same purpose as you: we are going to destroy the weather machine."

With that declaration, the two of them joined their combined knowledge of the machine and began the process of disabling its operation.  They avoided contact with any of the other workers, and within a period of about two hours they had undone what had taken THRUSH several years to create.

April was still in the kitchen area of the big house where staff lived and ate.  She had managed to find out that many of the people 'employed' here were actually being forced into servitude with threats of violence against their families.  The women were all afraid of being assaulted by the men around them, not an unmerited fear as several of them had been approached for more than kitchen duty.

April devised a plan to help them get away from the compound, devising a schedule where a group of them would leave with the task of shopping for ingredients to the meals they were preparing.  The trick was to approach a different guard each time, thereby reducing the risk of being found out.

After a period of time equal to Illya's sojourn with the weather machine, April had managed to get almost all of the women out of the kitchen and off the grounds.  It seemed simple enough, and thanks to some false promises made by the boldest of her brigade of ladies, the guards obliged the operation.

Illya and Sophia set timers on the weather machine that would cause a major disruption of the computerized actions that controlled it.  It was necessary to do that rather than destroy it outright.  THRUSH had to believe that their design was flawed, otherwise they would simply rebuild from the original plans.  Thankfully, Sophia had a working knowledge of how the machine functioned, which was aided by Illya's quickness at following her lead and absorbing the information she shared with him.  While he watched the floor around them, Sophia reprogrammed the weather machine and reset parameters that would provide the false information going to the Ultimate Computer.  Once again, Illya was reminded of an affair in which he had been less successful than he wished.  The Ultimate Computer was still operational in spite of his and Napoleon's efforts to thwart it.  This time it would be corrupted by the virus being inserted in the weather machine, something that not even he would have thought to do. Sophia was brilliant, a computer expert destined to help bring the world into a new era of communication.  Illya was very impressed.

April led the last group of women off of the compound, this time with Napoleon and Mark close by in order to help if anyone tried to interfere.  At about the same time Illya and Sophia made their way from the weather machine's location and out through a tunnel that led to a parking garage.  They obtained a Jeep, leaving behind a guard whose misfortune had been to try and stop them.  The MI6 agent and the UNCLE agent left with the assurance that they had been successful in their mission.  Illya opened his communicator to let Napoleon know the details under Sophia's watchful gaze.  Here was a gadget that not even her agency had.

Sophia drove the jeep up the ramp and out of the parking garage into a desert landscape covered in snow.  She drove at breakneck speed, forcing Illya to hold onto the overhead support in order to keep his seat.  Once well clear of the compound she slowed down just as the snow stopped falling.  It was quiet and cold, but as they sat with the engine idling, the temperature began to slowly warm.  The weather machine was done, they had succeeded in stopping it.

"THRUSH will never figure this out, the virus will completely distort the design details."  Sophia was sure of herself and her skills.  Illya would need some time with her in order to satisfy his curiosity.  He was already looking forward to it.

When everyone was reassembled at their rendezvous point, Napoleon was quick to congratulate them on a job well done, but equally quick to get them back to the UNCLE jet waiting for them at an airstrip that was not on anyone's radar.  Sophia was invited to fly with them, something she gratefully accepted.  It would be nice to finally breathe easy, and she looked forward to being back in England.

April had made certain that all of the women returned safely to their homes, thanks to the help of Iraqi soldiers assigned to this mission.  It would likely be the last time there was any cooperation between UNCLE and the government of this country, more turbulence was ahead for the Iraqi people.

Mark and April took their seats on the jet as Illya and Sophia opted to sit together.  Napoleon checked in with the pilot and then took a seat across from the younger agents.

"So, good job you two.  April, I am especially proud of your efforts to help those women.   THRUSH will more than likely abandon that facility, leaving the area in peace.  I'm not sure what might have happened to them had you not gotten them out of there."  April was glad to have had a success, she needed every bit of commendation she could garner as she worked to prove her worth as a female agent.  Mark was proud of her as well, and glad to be heading back to New York.

Illya and Sophia were deep in conversation, some of it pertaining to the mission, some to explanations about the workings and future of computers.  There was also a snippet of conversation about their plans once back in England.  Illya thought he might take a few days off, unless Mr. Waverly sent him on another mission.

Napoleon took all of it in, watching April as she watched Illya.

Sometimes, being a spy did not mean subtlety was guaranteed.

Comments

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you for this wonderful PicFic story! When you're back, you're back with a vengeance! Loved the twist and especially this well written line:
"Their new world order did not include paying homage to that which came before." A perfect statement, and made me think of the current situation where monuments here are being taken down.

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I was happy to have the time and inspiration to write this one.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

What a wonderful adventure, and I love the twist of Sophia's identity. I wonder how close she and Illya will get ;-)

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Thank you, I enjoyed putting this one together. As for those two... one has to wonder ;)