The Congo Affair chapter 13 "Serenity"

[mlaw]

 Sorry, can't get the cut to work....???

link to chapter 12: http://mrua7.livejournal.com/57909.html 

                                            

Maggie guided Napoleon to a small alcove located just off the kitchen, pointing to the black radio sitting on a table, with a microphone in front of it.'

 

After giving it a quick once over, he flicked the switch, turning it on, waiting for it to warm up. He looked at Maggie, figuring he couldn't ask her to leave and decided to trust her with some of the truth.

"Look, I wasn't, well we weren't exactly truthful with you when we told you who we were..."

Maggie smiled. "I sort of figured that with the way you two were dressed, and both of you were carrying handguns. Yes I saw the pistol tucked under your shirt and I had a feeling you knew how to use it. You and your friend don't exactly look and sound like 'businessmen.' I took you for a couple of mercenaries or some such."

Napoleon reached over, brushing a strand of hair out her eyes. "Well, you are partly right. My partner and I work for an organization called the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement."

"Oh so you're policemen?" She concluded, though she'd never heard of UNCLE.

"Sort of, but let's leave it at that. The rest of our story about being caught in the coup and escaping was the truth, and now I need to contact my headquarters for an extraction...we need to get out of here.

"So are Anthony Schoonovar and Edwin Rosbrük really your names?"

"No, my name is Solo...Napoleon Solo, and my partner is Illya Kuryakin."

"Hmm, unusual names, Illya and Napoleon," Maggie smiled, "The Emperor and the Russian. Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me, if you make me one promise?"

"What's that?" He flashed her a smile.

"Please take the Clayworths with you when you leave? They're frightened out of their wits and need to get home to England."

"I think we can manage that, let's say we seal the deal?" Napoleon leaned into her, giving her a long, passionate kiss, and she responded in kind.

"Okay," he finally said, pulling away from her after a few breathless moments. "Now to the radio."

He turned the dial, as the speaker emitted squeaks and squawks while he tried to find the right low-end frequency, when he did, he picked up the microphone and spoke into it.

"This is Napoleon Solo number one section two UNCLE Northwest come in Cairo. Code 713889. He repeated the message several times before receiving a response.

"This is Cairo, repeat your code please." Napoleon did as he was asked.

"That's an old code. How are we to know you are who you say you are?"

"Contact Alexander Waverly in New York and he'll verify me by voice recognition if need be."

"Hold on...what is your location?"

"Northern Rhodesia, my partner Mr. Kuryakin and I are at the Kingsford Rubber plantation. We need a helicopter extraction for ourselves and two other passengers. Mr. Kuryakin has a touch of pneumonia, so if an oxygen tank could be brought..."

"Hold please."

.

Alexander Waverly was sitting at his conference table going through a stack of files, reluctantly looking at replacements for his CEA and second. At this point it had been nearly seven weeks since Solo and Kuryakin had last been heard from, and he had to assume they'd perished during their attempted escape from the Congo to Northern Rhodesia.

He flipped through the files with a heavy heart, as Solo and Kuryakin were not only his best agents, they were outstanding individuals. He was not wont to admit publicly, but he'd grown rather fond of them, and they would be missed.

April Dancer and Mark Slate, were at the moment, tops on his list to replace his number one team, but he had reservations Section II might not respond well to a female CEA. So far it had been an uphill battle for Miss Dancer to be accepted as an equal for all intents and purposes in a men's world.

The telephone rang at his console, calling him from his thoughts.

"Yes."

"Mr. Waverly sir, I have a direct communication from Mr. Hawas of our Cairo office."

"Patch him through." He hung up the telephone receiver and picked up the hand-held microphone at his console.

"Yes Asim, what can I do for you old chap?

"Alexander, I have on the short wave radio, a man claiming to be Napoleon Solo."

Waverly couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat, though anyone looking at the man wouldn't have noticed a change in his demeanor.

"Did he give a proper code?"

"Yes, though it was a few months old."

"And his partner Mr. Kuryakin?

"He says he is with him and they are both unharmed but run ragged as he put it. Mr. Solo mentioned Mr. Kuryakin having a case of pneumonia. He is requesting a helicopter extraction."

"By all means, do so at once. They were caught up in the conflict in the Belgian Congo and had been trying to escape. At this point I was beginning to think they hadn't survived as it had been over six weeks since we'd lost contact with them."

"Alexander, I'll send a helicopter to their location as soon as we are able; we are in the midst of a small sandstorm at the moment, a precursor to the Khamsin that is soon to begin. As you know the high winds and those sandstorms generated by it can last up to fifty days. If we are not able to get out before they start, then I'm afraid sending a helicopter will be out of the question."

"Very well, notify me when your are able to launch. Out."

Hawas got back on the radio, but had no need to repeat anything, as Napoleon had been able to hear the conversation between the two men.

"How long, best guess?"

"Two days, I am hoping Mr. Solo. I cannot promise any sooner, but we will try our best ."

Napoleon breathed a long sigh of relief as there was finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

"Two days?" Maggie said, disappointment evident in her voice.

Napoleon left her and retreated upstairs to tell Illya the good news, but found his partner asleep, and rather than wake him, he closed the door quietly and went to his own room.

The night air was slightly cooler but still humid and a breeze gently blew the gossamer curtains that draped across the windows.

Napoleon stepped outside onto the balcony, now stripped of his clothing and wearing only light pajama bottoms, He took a deep relaxing breath, listening to the sounds of the night creatures, and the nearby river. It was so peaceful with the moon high in a hazy sky reflected on the water, and he found it hard to believe there was so much suffering not far away in the camp.
 

                                          
 

Frogs sang their evening chorus, suddenly bringing tiredness to the American, joined by the feeling of sadness. He was wracked with the frustration of not being able to help the innocents caught up in this revolution, if that's what it really was.

 

He turned, looking at his bed, knowing for once the sounds of the rainforest could lull him to sleep without any fear. Still, he longed for the songs of his world, the tempo and noise of New York city...it would be good to get home.

He heard the door to his room creak open and moved quickly, taking hold of his pistol tucked beneath a bed pillow...

"Napoleon?" It was Maggie. "I'd like to apologize for my family's behavior tonight."

He smiled at her, as she walked towards him, unbuttoning her white floral dress and letting it drop to the floor. She stepped between him and the balcony door, with the moonlight bathing her lithe body in an enticing silhouette.

He moved behind her, nuzzling the nape of her neck as he wrapped his arms around her and she slowly turned to face him, offering her lips.

Napoleon pulled her to him, letting his hands roam as he kissed her with a different kind of hunger. It seemed as though ages had passed since he'd breathed in the scent of a woman, and feeling her shudder at his touch, he lifted Maggie up, and carried her to the bed where they made love to each other.

She remained there with him until dawn, when she slipped out of bed and dressed herself. Napoleon rose, stepping towards her and taking her in his arms one more time, and kissed her before she left.

He climbed back into bed, quickly falling asleep with a feeling serenity, one he'd not felt, it seemed, for a very long time.