"A Walk in the park" chapter 7 for the 7 Days of Halloween Challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

A group of off duty agents decided to hit a bar after signing out of headquarters, not that they were ever truly off duty as a Section II could be called in for an assignment at anytime.

No one was permitted to be unavailable unless they were ill, or away on vacation...but then again if an assignment cropped up in their getaway location, well there went the vacation.

Drinking was something these people did, many of them smoked cigarettes too, for some it was for pleasure but for others it was a means to relaxing. Life as a Section II agent was stressful, not that they didn’t know that when they signed on for field work; but it was just accepted as part of the job.

Tonight was a small, but not an exclusive group of men who headed out to bar hop. Section II agents weren’t snobs by any means and would drink with anyone, especially if that anyone was willing to pay for said drinks.

It seemed a good number of the agents were always short on cash for varying reasons, foremost among them was Napoleon Solo; he was always borrowing cash from his rather frugal partner to finance his extensive dating schedule, though tonight he was flush with cash. (that he didn't borrow from Illya)

The group consisted of Solo and Kuryakin, Mark Slate, Kit Kittredge, George Dennell and a few of the people from the Communications Section. It was actually mischief night, the night before Halloween, but the only mischief these men were interested in was drinking.

Everyone was looking forward to April Dancer’s annual party, and tonight’s adventure into inebriation was just a warmup.

The drinks and cigarettes accompanied by bad jokes and long stories continued into the wee hours until their numbers dwindled to just a few as they ended up at the bar in the Carlyle Hotel, near Central Park.

At this point they all had a pretty good buzz going, although looking at the Russian, no one could never guess it.

Illya appeared unchanged, and spoke like he was as sober as a judge.

After the last Solo pun had been uttered, Mark decided he needed some fresh air, even though the Brit could hold his liquor with the best of them...that last glass of gin went down a bit rough.

“I’ll beeee backkk mates. Jus’ going out for a bit o’ fresh air.”

“Careful Mark,” Illya said,” remember it is the night before Halloween and there might be some mischief makers lurking about.”

“Hey guv, I’m a NUNCLE agen’ remember,” Slate opened his jacket, pointing to his gun. “Plenty sleep darts on ‘and.” His accent had gotten quite thick at this point.

Once outside Slate lit up a fag, and decided to head to nearby Central Park. That would get him away from the noise of the city, as well as the exhaust from the buses and taxis, putting him into a more relaxing natural green setting.

New York, like London was busy no matter what the time of night, but he knew the park would be peaceful.

As Mark walked along, he discovered that at night the park wasn’t green at all. Everything was veiled in black and grey.

Just a little bit disappointed, he continued his stroll, still puffing away on his cigarette as the sounds of the city began to fade.

“Hooo-hoo, hooo-hooo.” An owl called from the trees.

That was the only thing he could hear now other than his own footsteps.

“Caw Caw Caw!” A crow flapped its wings, landing on the back of a nearby bench; it was joined by another and another until their calls created an annoying din.

“Bloody ‘ell birds! Shoo! Go find another bench somewheres else will you?”

Mark waved his arms, scattering the birds as they fluttered off into the night sky until they blended into the darkness.

He flopped onto the bench, fully intending to just relax when he heard footsteps coming towards him.  Slate reached for his shoulder holster, resting his hand on his gun just in case. Tossing down the last of his cigarette, he snuffed it out with his shoe as he waited.

The lights illuminating the path weren’t very bright. He couldn’t see a thing and squinted ...straining to see who belonged to those footfalls.

They came and went, though there was no physical body attached to them.

That gave Mark the shivers for a split second before he rationalized them away.

“Maybe the gin is making you go blind you ponce,” he mumbled to himself

A chill wind blew, and pulling up his jacket collar Slate decided he’d had enough of communing with nature. The view just wasn’t that pleasant anyway.

It was time to go back to the bar and rejoin the lads.

As he walked along the dimly lit pathway, he heard the footsteps again, this time behind him and he spun round.

“Who’s there? Show yourself. I have a gun and know how to use it mate.” His adrenaline had kicked in, and had a sobering effect on the Brit.

No one. If it was a mugger, the talk of the gun might have scared him off. Still, Mark quickened his pace.

“Hoo hoo hooo!” Caw Caw Caw!” The bird calls now seemed to surround him and he immediately thought of Hitchcock’s movie, ’The Birds.’

Suddenly there was a rustling coming from a nearby bush.

“All right mate, show yourself right now!” Mark shouted.

No one.

“Jesus, I must be daft. Nothing there but my silly imagination.”

He heard the rustling again, though this time he convinced himself it was nothing but the wind.

As he took a step forward Mark found himself coming face to face spider web. “Plah, plah! Yuck!” He finally freed himself of it with his hands. “Enough of this!”

Once he reached the exit to the park, Mark breathed a long sigh of relief as the Carlyle was but three minutes walk away.

He decided that was it for the drink tonight; maybe he’d have a nice hot cup of tea instead. Nothing like a good cuppa to soothe the nerves.

“Rustle-Rustle, drag-drag, Rustle…””

This time Mark distinctly saw a bush move and it wasn’t from the wind. He drew his gun but an unseen hand knocked it from him.

The bush grew taller, suddenly flying towards him and Mark let out a bloodcurdling shriek.

Napoleon revealed himself with a loud ‘BOO’ and nearly fell down laughing; he was joined by Illya who was standing behind Mark, holding the Brit’s gun.

George Dennell appeared from the darkness. “Caw Caw!

Kit let out a “Hooo hoooo!”

“Not funny you blokes, somebody could have gotten hurt,” Mark snarled.

“Which is why I relieved you of your weapon,” Illya chimed in.

“Mark?” Napoleon was still laughing,” Did anyone ever tell you that you scream like a girl?”

“Do not! Now if you tossers will excuse me, I’m going to go sober up with some tea and biscuits. Care to join me?”

“Sounds like a plan, “Napoleon brushed the twigs and leaves from his clothing.

“Good, “ Mark smiled because you’re paying mate for what you did to me.”

“I told you he would not like this Napoleon,”Illya whispered.

“Yes you did tovarisch, but you went along with it didn’t you?”

“Who am I to get in the way of one of your pranks. At least for once I was not the target.” Kuryakin winked.

“Well since I’m paying, I vote we take a taxi to McSorley’s Old Ale House; the kitchen is still open there.”

At that exact moment Napoleon’s communicator began to warble; he quickly assembled it and answered.

“Solo here.”

“Yes Mr. Solo.”It was Waverly.” Would you and Mr. Kuryakin...he is with you correct?

“Yes sir, as are Mr. Slate, Mr. Kittredge as well as George Dennell.”

“Oh well, I suppose I don’t want to ask what you’re doing together this time of night. I need you to proceed into Central Park as there have been some disturbances that one would classify as unusual. The police are in the process of patrolling the perimeter, and have asked for our help in covering the interior southern section of the park.”

“What sort of disturbances sir,” Illya spoke up.

“There have been complaints about shrubbery seemingly coming to life and chasing people, as well as odd bird calls in the vicinity of the incidents.”

“Oh?” Napoleon said. There was a very pregnant pause.

“Yes, you are in Central Park, are you not? I’ll expect your report at the conclusion of the investigation. Waverly out.”

Solo disassembled his communicator, tucking it into his inside breast pocket.

“How does he know these things?” He mumbled. “This takes his ‘knows all and sees all' to new heights.”

Napoleon looked up, realizing the others were giving him the stink eye.

“Here now, you’ve gone and ruined our night out mate,” Kit grumbled.

“Hey it wasn’t me, I swear. Scouts honor,” Napoleon raised his hands as he proclaimed his innocence. “I just did it now with you Mark, that was it. Illya, Kit... George we’ve been together the whole time, haven't we?”

“Gosh, he’s right,” Dennell said.”So does that mean there’s more pranksters in the park or could there real haunted bushes? A could it be new THRUSH plot?”

“Guess we better go and find out,” Napoleon sighed. ”Sleep darts everyone, just in case.”

“Napoleon should we really accept this assignment?” Mark asked. ”We’re all pretty wankered.”

“Speak for yourself Mark,” Illya said.” No self respect (he hiccuped)...respecting Russian gets drunk on Vodka, which is what I was drinking.”

“And plenty  of it but yeah right, you ought to know as seeing how you're Russian,”Mark winked, but decided to placate Illya. No need to give the man a perceived insult and most likely pay the price later.

“Maybe not completely drunk, but we’ve all been drinking enough,” the Brit said.

“Mark,” Solo raised an index finger to make a point.” One does not tell Alexander Waverly ‘no’ when it comes to an assignment. The fact that we’ve been drinking will mean we’ll all suffer in the morning with hangovers.”

Illya chimed in,”Again I say, speak for yourself. I suggest, since we have been indeed consuming enough alcohol, that we remain even more vigilant and be on our toes.”

“That goes without saying,” George said.” Gee fellas, since I’m here, can I come along? I mean even though I’m not a field agent, I can probably help somehow.”

Napoleon scrunched up his mouth for a moment. “Aw heck why not? Come on George.”

As the men from U.N.C.L.E. fanned out, George Dennell grinned from ear to ear.

“Here we are the four musketeers off to do battle with the evil doers, well four plus me that is.”

“Yeah mate, a bunch of haunted bushes,” Mark laughed.

As they reached the area where the incidents had taken place, the agents fanned out, moving carefully in the darkness, while George walked alone, acting as the bait.

He wasn’t exactly happy about his assignment, but heck if any field agent could do this...so could he, he hoped?

Ten minutes went by and nothing...fifteen, twenty minutes.

George continued to walk slowly, but paused to speak to Napoleon who was hiding in the nearby bushes.

“I don’t think this is working. Maybe it was just…”

A bush moved and completely enveloped Dennell. There was a loud, blood curdling shriek as it disappeared into the night, leaving George sitting on his rear, looking bewildered and a bit shaken.

The others rushed to his aide.

“Good golly! I thought I was talking to Napoleon when a bush just attacked me. Did you hear that sound, it came from the bush...it was pretty frightening. Say where is Napoleon anyway?”

“Good question,”Illya said. He pulled his communicator, adjusting it to track his partner’s comm device. It began beeping immediately.

“This way,” Kuryakin pointed.

The signal  strengthened as they moved closer, until they arrived at the eleven foot tall bronze statue of Alice in Wonderland. It was surrounded by the Mad Hatter, the White Rabbit and a few of her other friends

Standing near to it was Napoleon, his gun drawn and aimed at a large bush that had a pair of raised arms protruding from it. There were two others on either side of it also with raised arms sticking out in the air.

A voice came from the bush directly in front of Solo. “Please Mister don’t shoot. We was only playing a joke, you know a little Halloween mischief.”

Mark, Kit, Illya and George unmasked the pranksters revealing that it was three boys all dressed in black clothing.  They’d made their bush costumes out of fishnet, branches and leaves, and had been perfectly camouflaged.

Minutes later the police arrived, led by one Sergeant Mike O’Toole, who immediately recognized one the boys.

“Thomas Francis McGinty! How many times do I have to deal with you. Yer in a deep bit of trouble now lad, and yer friends too!”

"You obviously know this boy,” Napoleon said.”What sort of punishment are he and the others facing.”

"And who might you be?"

"My name is Solo, Napoleon Solo," he flashed his yellow UNCLE ID card.

The police officer detected the strong odor of alcohol in the air coming from Solo and the others, but said nothing.

“McGinty is me sister’s boy, but that doesn’t matter. It’s juvenile court fer him and his friends.”

Solo looked at Illya, who in turn looked at Mark, who looked at Kit, and he looked at George. They were all impressed with the level of sophistication with which the boys had disguised themselves. Solo’s improvised attempt was pitiful compared to what these boys had made...though it was obvious they’d put time and effort into their camouflaged costumes.

Napoleon finally spoke.“Sergeant, this was only a bit of youthful mischief. Perhaps we could do something to channel their creativity rather than relegating them to the courts where they’ll end up with a juvenile arrest record, and possibly incarceration.”

“I’m listening,” Sergeant O’Toole leaned in.

A week later, young McGinty, his friends Paulie and Junior were in the UNCLE warehouse located down by the East River. The were tasked with helping develop camouflage ideas and disguises for use by agents in the field, and were being paid to boot.

That kept them off the streets, busy and making money...which made their parents and Sergeant O’Toole quite happy.

Their young minds brought quite an innovative approach to their task, and what they came up with surprised even the best of UNCLE engineers.

It was an all’s well that ends well situation, though unbeknownst to Napoleon and the others, Mark Slate was still plotting his revenge for that Halloween prank...

Comments

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Nice spooky writing with a good unsupernatural explanation. The recruitment bit at the end is a good extra, as is Waverly knowing their whereabouts.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I thought ending the challenge on a lighter note was good. Glad you liked the story!

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

An excellent tale! I love the whole 'Waverly knows all thing'. That's spooky in itself. I also love all the Britishisms. I use the word 'tosser' quite often. Usually towards by brother, LOL.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you!! I really appreciate the approval of the 'brutish-isms'. Someone said I should have used 'knackered' instead of wankered, (which I know has a sexual connotation) but it also is a term for being drunk. And given Mark's mood I thought the rougher word worked better.

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

I've never heard anyone use the word 'knackered' to mean drunk. 'Wankered', on the other hand, is fairly commonplace. It's used for people in the later stages of inebriation, like Mark was. 'Knackered' just means really tired.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

That's what I know knackered to be, I tend to hear that word more with the Irish. Thanks for the affirmation on 'wankered,' cuz!