"The Water of Life Affair"~ for the PicFic Tuesday Challenge 5/7 Part-one

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

                                 

“Gentlemen, this is your new assignment,” Alexander Waverly said as he tossed a pair of folders on his conference table, sending them round to Solo and Kuryakin.

“Grand Marnier?” Napoleon was puzzled.

"Not just any Grand Marnier,” Waverly smiled, “these are extremely rare and valuable to connoisseurs of liquor. They are a special cuvee bottled by Marnier-Lapostelle from around 1925, based on pre-phylloxera cognac from 1830, were originally in the collection of Professor Franz Loewe, a known aficionado of vintage labels, as well being as a gifted chemist. The professor died under mysterious circumstances and as part of his estate, these bottles are being auctioned off within the next two days.

“I understand they are valuable, but for what purpose is UNCLE needed...” Illya looked up, his glasses slipping down his nose.

There was a twinkle in Waverly’s eyes, “You see Mr. Kuryakin it is not the liqueur itself, but what is of interest to us is something Professor Loewe purportedly injected into it, and that is a formula to extend life.”  He smiled, “I suppose that makes these bottles of Grand Marnier a true aqua vitae, as it were.”

“Ah yes, the water of life, to which most distilled liquors are now referred. Whisky from the Irish uisce beatha, eau de vie in France, acquavite in Italy, and akvavit in Scandinavia, okowita in Poland, okovyta in Ukraine, akavitain Belarus, yakovita in the southern Russian dialects...”

“Yes quite, Mr. Kuryakin you’ve made your point,” Waverly interrupted him.

“Gentlemen, you’re to go to Vienna and obtain these bottles at any cost.”

“Are we bidding on them?” Napoleon asked, not sure if ‘at any cost’ meant just that.

“Yes precisely, but try not to drive up the price Mr. Solo, no need to impress anyone.  Your cover will be a wealthy American dealer in vintage liquors.” Waverly tossed him his identity papers along with a rather thick envelope. Napoleon’s eyes widened when he saw it was cash, hundred dollar bills to be precise.

“And me sir?” Illya asked.

“You Mr. Kuryakin are to remain in the background as Mr. Solo’s and chauffeur and bodyguard. If in the event he is unable to secure the purchase of the Grand Marnier, I have no doubt someone, namely THRUSH, will try to get their hands on it. Your skills as a second story man will be needed instead.”

“What’s preventing them or us, for that matter, in trying to steal the bottles before the auction?” Napoleon asked.

“All the inventory is under very heavy security as there are several high profile paintings by Vermeer and Degas being offered from a private collection.  That will most likely be the focus for most buyers and not two innocuous bottles of cognac. The event is to be preceded by a cocktail hour at the Hotel Sacher, after which the auction will take place in the grand ballroom.  Your room is booked at the hotel as well, and please Mr. Solo no extravagances with room service?”

Napoleon gave a quick glance to his partner, hiding his smile. ”I will endeavor to do so, sir.”

“Your flight leaves this evening gentlemen. Good luck.”

.

The partners left in silence, heading to wardrobe to secure the clothing needed for the assignment.

“Here I go playing your servant again,” Illya remarked, dropping the chauffeur’s hat atop his blond mop. “I should just keep this and not bother returning it.”

“What are you complaining about, you know you just love to lurk around in the shadows,ready to pounce on people; playing your part lets you do that. Me, I’m out in the open and at risk.”

“I do not lurk, I spy.” Illya quipped, gathering up his garment bag containing the rest of his chauffeur’s uniform and draping it over his arm.

Comments

[avery11.livejournal.com]

It's totally him.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

You're right, now after the fact when I say it aloud, it really is! thanks!