section7mfu | The ABC Affair 2019- K is for King Cake

Napoleon contacted Waverly to give him the good and bad news...good that the codes were found, and bad that Nathaniel La Croix had disappeared. He didn’t mention the issue of Miss Georgia and her delicate condition as that would be a topic for later discussion.

La Croix’s name and likeness would be added to a most wanted list kept by the Command. Eventually someone would catch up with the traitor and he’d be sent to Tartarus...if he lived.* Some Section II agents might be quick to use live rounds instead of sleep darts when it came to someone who’d betrayed his oath to the U.N.C.L.E.

He was most likely hundreds of miles away, if he were smart and would probably head to a well established THRUSH satrapy in another state. The Hierarchy tended to execute those agents who’d gotten sloppy or failed to do their job, but Nate was a young guy mixed up in one of their schemes and not the one in control. They might give him a second chance...might that is.

Sadly he was privy to enough workings of the U.N.C.L.E. that it would require some changes to be made in the New Orleans office as well as to the rest of the field stations dotting the United States and Europe.

It would be more of a preventative measure than anything. It always wreaked havoc when an agent turned traitor forcing the Continental Chiefs to institute changes in procedure, upping the ante as it were when it came to security and vetting new employees.

This wasn’t the first time an agent had been turned, and probably wouldn’t be the last. UNCLE agents were only human and subject to human frailties, though Waverly always hoped his people would be stronger than that.

The Triad Codes would only be useful for a limited window of time as once THRUSH discovered Pride and his minions were missing, then so was their list of codes. There’d be a new list of codes issued and the game would begin all over again.

Having them only gave UNCLE a temporary advantage, but it was better than nothing at all. The Hierarchy was always up to something so the access to these particular codes would give the Command a leg up on a few their enemy’s schemes.

Solo and eventually Kuryakin returned to the TruTone as their accommodations were still located there. They’d still need the room as they wouldn’t be leaving New Orleans anytime soon. They’d be here for at least two weeks, but not having to pay any further rent would make the accounting apartment happy for once.

The Old Man had tasked them with doing a security check with the field office and maintain it until a Section II agent was sent to be the station manager as it were.

That was a change in policy, but a necessary one. There was no way to know for sure if THRUSH had been completely cleared out of the Big Easy so the presence of an experienced field agent was deemed necessary.

Kit Kittredge was that man and he would be there within the next two weeks. Until that time, unless something major arose, Solo and Kuryakin would have to remain to handle things.

The partners sat at the bar looking quite weary after the day’s events. Illya had purloined a pillow from the hospital and he put it on the top of the bar stool as his rear was still tender. Sitting down was mildly problematic when your ass cheek was stitched up.

They were greeted by Lucius who was, as usual, in good spirits despite not being able to visit the Indian parade and watch his tribe perform.

His boss was nowhere to be found, and that left Lucius and a few staffers there to run the bar until Pride returned. Cassius had gone off a number of times over the years so it was nothing new to Lucius.

“Y'all look like yo need mo than a beer.”

“Amen to that,” Napoleon said. “I’ll take a scotch on the rocks and Nick here will have a vodka neat.”

“Is the vodka chilled?” Illya asked.

“Only way boss,” Lucius grinned. He quickly served up the drinks, and headed back to the kitchen.

“H’yah be somethin’ to lift yo spirits.”

He set a braided ring cake in front of them. It was iced sugar toppings in the traditional Mardi Gras colors of purple, green and gold.

“Dis be a King Cake.Da colors be important; purple is fo justice, green fo faith and gold be fo power. Each king cake has a tiny porcelain baby inside or mebbe a coin, a bean, a pecan or a pea. Who ever finds da trinket in their slice o’ cake get to be the king or queen fo a day. Our cake has da baby Jesus in it and brings luck an prosperity to whoever find it in der slice o’ cake. That person is suppose to buy the cake fo next year, but we don’ts hold our customers to that. I thinks the idea o’ the King Cake come from da French.

Not wanting to offend Lucius, Napoleon and Illya each accepted a generous slice of cake, though neither was in the mood for anything sweet.

Solo was in the mood to keep drinking, Kuryakin would have matched his partner drink for drink but all he really wanted to do was just go to sleep.

Napoleon’s slice had purple icing and Illya’s was gold. They discovered it wasn’t a cake in the traditional sense as it was in fact made of braided bread dough shaped into a circle to mimic the appearance of a king’s crown.

In the center of the tray on which the King Cake sat a plastic golden crown, and the cake was surrounded by plastic beads.

“Looks like some of our company’s products,” Solo quipped, just to

re enforce their cover story.

Both men picked up their slices and raised them in a silent toast to each other before they bit into their pieces.

“Not bad,” Napoleon nodded. He pulled a little figure from inside his slice.

”Well will you look at that.” Napoleon held it up.

“You my friend do not need any more luck and yes this cake is rather tasty,” Illya shook his head. He suddenly felt very strange... drowsy as if he were going to nod off right then and there; something was wrong.

“Y’okay boss?” Lucius asked. “Yo don’t look so good. If’n yo gonna be sick, do it outside.”

"Something is in this cake." Illya could barely speak.

"They show is, it be packed with a whole lotta love. It was made by Mista Cassius' lady friends."

Illya reached out to Napoleon who was looking at him crosseyed, and watched as his partner’s head dropped forward onto the bar top with a thud. Illya passed out seconds later.