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section7mfu2019-05-10 11:42 am
"You don't have a partner Affair" Chapter 5 of the Round Robin
Alexander Waverly paced his conference room, which was very much out of character for him.
It was enough for his assistant, Lisa Rogers, to take notice and as she brought in a tray with her boss’s afternoon tea, she finally said something. It wasn’t often she’d found him this distracted.
Alexander Waverly was always the epitome of cool and collected...well, apparently not today.
“I brought you Camomile sir, to calm your nerves”
“Wot...calm my nerves?”
“Yes sir, you’ve been pacing non-stop like a caged animal.”
“So I have my dear,” he finally sat down at his large circular table.
Lisa set the tray down in front of him and poured from the teapot into a porcelain tea cup with an oriental motif. It was a scene of tranquility, one she hoped wouldn't be lost on Waverly.
He sighed as she passed the cup and saucer to him, neglecting to put in his usual one lump of sugar, just to see if he noticed.
It was obvious after he took an absent minded sip that he hadn’t; that told Lisa she needed to speak up.
“Mister Waverly sir, what’s wrong? I’m more than willing to be a sounding board if you need me to do so.”
“You know me all too well my dear. Please be seated,” he did notice she’d brought a second cup and saucer.
“Pour yourself a cuppa and sit with me for a moment.”
Lisa did as asked; once she seated herself, she took a sip of her beverage and waited.
The Old Man said nothing, that was until his finally assistant cleared her throat.
“I’m afraid my dear, something has happened to Mister Solo and Mister Kuryakin.”
“I thought they were finished with their assignment and were returning to headquarters.”
“You are correct, they were, but somehow we’ve lost contact with them.”
“Do you think it’s related to their assignment?”
“No, that came to a successful conclusion with Mr. Kuryakin suffering relatively minor injuries….nothing to require medical attention mind you. Mister Solo informed me that his partner and he were mostly exhausted and had contacted me for approval to get a motel room for the night. I cautioned him not to let the expenses get out of hand; those were the last words I spoke to him.”
“Sir, they’ve gone missing before…”
“Yes, yes I know they can take care of themselves, but I have a bad feeling about this particular disappearance. I rarely let my emotions get involved when it comes to my agents; I’m afraid my instincts are telling me they’re in deep trouble.”
Lisa took another sip of tea and put down her cup and saucer; she was unsure of what to say.
“Miss Rogers, if you’d be so kind to contact the Albany field office for me. I think it’s time to do some preliminary investigating ourselves...oh and yes, Dancer and Slate. Please have them report here immediately.”
“With pleasure sir,” Lisa cleared the tray and china, heading immediately to her desk just outside the conference room door. She's not sure what exactly she'd done, but was glad to see the Old Man had suddenly become decisive. Perhaps just speaking out loud about his concerns did it.
April and Mark were sitting in the Commissary when the call came for them to report to Mister Waverly.
“On our way,” April responded on the way out, using the black house phone located on the wall just to the right of the doors. She straightened her yellow mini dress, one she’d coordinated with a pair of vinyl white boots and a matching cap.
Mark was standing beside her as she answered the call. He, unlike his partner, was dressed surprisingly conservative considering his London background. Today the Brit was wearing a grey turtleneck, a grey cardigan sweater, and grey trousers. Luckily he’d left that awful corduroy hat of his in their office.
“Darling, whatever happened to you and the Carnaby Street influence. I swear you’re dressing like an old man lately."
“April, sometimes comfort has more meaning than fashion.”
She responding with a quick spin in the corridor, eliciting a cat call from, all people, George Dennell who was just passing by.
“Well this is quite in vogue, and comfy too,"she grinned.
“April luv, you could make a potato sack look chic and comfortable.”
“Mark dear, flattery will get you everywhere.”
They arrived promptly in answer to Waverly’s summons and were immediately directed by the Old Man to be seated at the conference table.
“I’m afraid that Messrs Solo and Kuryakin have gone missing. Mister Solo called in a request to spend the night at a motel located approximately four hours north of New York as they needed to recoup from their last assignment, which was successful by the way. This morning neither of them contacted headquarters and we have not been able to raise them.”
“Where were they sir?” Mark asked.
“Good question young man. Mister Solo failed to give me the location and name of the motel at which they were staying...I must be slipping, as I should have asked him but I neglected to do so." His brow was furrowed and lowering his head, his bushy eyebrows hid his eyes.
“No signals from either of their communicators sir?” April asked.
“Not a thing I’m afraid," he raised his head again. "Their communicators aren’t on, otherwise we’d be able to triangulate a position as to their current location.”
Waverly tapped his pipe into a crystal ashtray in front of him before refilling the bowl with tobacco from his nearby wooden humidor. It took but a few seconds for him to strike a match, and puff a few times before the smoke from his briar pipe rose into the air.
“Four hours from here, that’s a fair bit of territory to cover,” Mark said.
“Indeed. I have a list of motels and hotels located four hours away being drawn up as we speak.”
“That might not be necessary sir,” April interjected.”Illya...I mean Mister Kuryakin, once told me that he had a tracking chip installed beneath the stone of Mister Solo’s star sapphire ring as a birthday gift. We might be able to locate him that way.”
“I’d completely forgotten about that Miss Dancer. Excellent. We’ll have communications check all frequencies to see if a signal is coming from the ring. In the meantime, I’d like you to travel north. Once we have a lock on the signal, we’ll give you a more specific location.”
Mark and April departed immediately, and as Waverly had predicted the signal from Napoleon’s ring helped them narrow down their search parameters.
Four hours later they arrived at a local motel; it was the only one that had been in the vicinity of the signal. Seeing no cars parked there at all sent them to the office where they flashed photographs of Napoleon and Illya, though the clerk there denied ever having seen either man.
He was a young guy, medium build, probably in his early twenties. As Mark thought, the lad still had his spots.
“Haven’t had anyone check in for the last couple of days. Sorry can’t be of more help.”
“Thank you,” April said. She turned her back to the clerk, pointing to the pinky finger of her left hand.
Mark looked down at the clerk’s hand, noticing him wearing a white gold star sapphire ring, identical to the one Napoleon wore.
Mark opened his communicator and there was the signal, loud and clear. It was Solo’s ring for sure.”
“Wait a jif, mate. Where’d you get that ring? Looks just like one owned by my friend.”
The clerk immediately panicked and tried to dash through a door behind the desk, but he never made it as Dancer hit him with a sleep dart in the back of his neck.
The crew arrived from the Albany office and they proceeded to tear apart the motel...
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I thought a different POV might open up some doors for the next writer.
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(ps. You really don't like Mark's hat, do you? LOL)
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