"The ABC Affair 2019- R is for Running of the bulls

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The UNCLE agent’s confinement went on for a few days, with another supply run having taken place again, blessedly without incident. It wasn’t luck, it was La Croix perhaps trying to lure them into a false sense of security so they might let down their guard.

There was no word from Waverly about backup and Napoleon thought it to be in their best interest not to pester the Old Man about it. He and Illya trusted they wouldn’t be let down. Kripke, Valmont and Jennings were another story.

They lacked experience and playing the waiting game was getting to them.

They’d never had to do a stakeout, or something similar to this situation and they had no patience for it. Tempers were running high.

The junior agents had the forethought to keep some extra clothing onhand along with shaving kits and toiletries so at least there wasn’t any excess body odor to deal with.

Miss Georgia was acting cool as a cucumber. They let her have limited movement to use the bathroom, and after a search of her purse they found nothing dangerous.

She had face powder, lipstick, a comb, a small perfume atomizer, (with real perfume) and a tin of talcum powder. Napoleon donated one of his clean white tee shirts for her to wear while she washed out her blouse and  unmentionables. That was as close as he planned to get near to her; he felt absolutely no attraction towards her at this point, even though she tried flirting with him a few more times.

Solo and Kuryakin found themselves a bit on edge, not because of waiting but because they’d both run out of cigarettes. None of the Section III agents smoked, though Illya mumbled under his breath that if they ever made it into the field, they would take up smoking.

He knew it was a nasty habit and had tried to quit a few times. He’d learned to smoke before he was twelve; it was something one learned to do in order to look tough while trying to survive in a Moscow orphanage.

He paced the floor near the security monitors, keeping quiet but Napoleon watched as his partner’s jaw tightened.

Yes, missing cigarettes was bothersome and both of them had gone without them more than long enough when held prisoner by many’s the lunatic and survived.

This was different, they were in a secure UNCLE field office, yet one one traitorous man was keeping them here like rats in a trap.

“Napoleon, to hell with waiting. It is time we take the offensive.”

“Tovarisch, I’d love to but at this point we have no idea where the bastard could be. For all we know he’s in the building right across the street, or on a roof waiting to pick us off once we leave the safety of this place. Waverly hasn’t contacted us about backup, so we are literally stuck here between a rock and a hard place until the cavalry arrived.

“We can not stay here forever,” Illya hissed.

Napoleon’s communicator chirped, and looking at Illya, Solo crossed his fingers hoping it was the Old Man with good news.

“Solo here,” he quickly answered.

“Ahhh, good to hear your voice again.”

“La Croix,” Napoleon growled.”Where are you, you sniveling coward?”

“Sticks and stones, sticks and stones.”

Solo pointed to the communications panel, but Illya had already seated himself to do a trace on the signal. He twirled his index finger in the air signalling for Napoleon to keep him talking.

“In the flesh,” Nate said.” So are you and Kuryakin ready to come out and play?”

“I don’t think we like your sort of game, maybe we could play one of ours. How about hopscotch or jump rope? Ever try your hand at double dutch?”

“Don’t toy with me Solo. Here’s the deal, you and your little Commie friend will attend the ball of the Mistick Krewe of Comus in two days time.”

“You’re serious,” Napoleon laughed. “You think we’d just step out in public for you to pick us off one at a time?”

“Well that’s the rub isn’t? If you don’t attend the ball, then I will blow up everyone there. I have more than enough C-4 and and timers do the job.”

Solo paused, looking at his partner who gave him a thumbs up. La Croix was right across the street, most likely the second floor facing the entrance to the courtyard.

Napoleon waved his partner to follow him and while he kept Nate and distracted, they left the office, and made it to the gate. Darting across the narrow street, they entered the building where La Croix was holed up.

“How can I trust that you won’t just shoot us down the minute we step out onto the street?”

“Trust, yes Mister Solo. You’d have to trust that I would rather face you on a field of honor per se. Honor among thieves for lack of a better term.”

“Let me think about it. Out.” He didn’t want Nate to hear him as they got closer.

They moved up a single staircase with their guns drawn and Illya pointed to one of the doors on the second floor. That’s where La Croix was.

He held up one finger counting silently counting ‘one-two-three’ and together he and Napoleon smashed through the door.

La Croix was startled of course and wasn’t able to get off a shot from his carbine as Kuryakin shot him in the ass, not with a bullet but a sleep dart. It was sort of a payback.

Nate’s eyes went wide before they rolled back and he sank to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

The partners looked at each other, breathing a sigh of relief. It was over, at least for now.

Illya’s communicator went off. “Kuryakin here.”

“Darling are you and Napoleon all right,” it was April.

“We are now,” Napoleon called out to her. “Where are you?”

“We’re not far from the field office.”

“We as in you and Mark?” Illya asked.

“Of course.”

“Mister Waverly asked us to come help you blokes out of a bit of a jam,” Mark said.

“Well it’s nice to have you here but our jam has been officially taken care of,” Napoleon said.

“That’s a relief as we’re stuck in some sort of event and can’t even move down the street. We have four agents with us but we were separated, they’re somewhere farther back on the street.”

“A parade?” Illya asked. “They do stop periodically to let people cross the road.”

“It’s not a parade. The only thing I can equate it to is the running of the bulls in Pamplona. There’s women on roller skates and skateboards chasing everyone down the street. They’re wearing helmets with plastic horns but not like Vikings, they make them like bull’s heads and... and they’re pretending to gore anyone who isn’t outrunning them. They may not be as dangerous as the real bulls in Spain, but they don’t seem to be taking pity on anyone. I had no idea Mardi Gras was like this.”

“It isn’t as far as I know. Must be something new,” Napoleon said. “Meet us at the field office as soon as you’re able.”

“Will do darling. Dancer out.”

After tying up Nate, Napoleon and Illya did a search of the room and found a small amount of C-4 and one timer. That didn’t sit well with either of them.

Kripke was contacted and after informing him Nate had been captured, Illya asked him to check the armory inventory of C-4 and timers. It didn’t take long to get an answer.

“Mister Kuryakin, all the explosive putty is gone along with six timers.”

Illya’s jaw tightened.”And when was the last time you did an inventory check of your armory?”

“It wasn’t that long ago sir.”

“How long was ...not that long ago?” Illya asked, sotto voce.

“Ummm, last month.”

“We will discuss this further. Mister Solo and I will be returning with La Croix, in the meantime, clean up the place as April Dancer, Mark Slate and four other agents will be arriving soon. Kuryakin out.”

He was sure Agent Kripke copped onto his displeasure. No need to give him one of his blue-eyed stares as it was message received, loud and cleared.

“So his threat to blow up the ball of the Mistick Krewe of Comus was a genuine threat,” Napoleon said.

“And it might still be if he has already set the explosives and timers.” Illya nodded.

Comments

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Wow, 2 in a row!