Light the Way, part 2 - PicFic 5/13/14
May. 13th, 2014 09:31 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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section7mfuPart I
~~~~~:
Alexander Waverly looked out over the city from his helicopter, anxious to get back to the desk he called home. Funny how an inanimate object could become such an essential part of one's life, he mused. Not so funny was the situation down in Key West. His two best agents were there now on what had started as a seemingly uncomplicated affair: identify the THRUSH activity and shut it down. Only now it wasn't so simple; there were locals involved who had orchestrated the infiltration of the Hierarchy into their city, and the rumblings of secession were beginning to come up out of the depths of that debacle. These people obviously did not understand with whom they were dealing.
The UNCLE helicopter dropped down gradually until the pilot had his landing site beneath him. Every once in a while he was instructed to detour to this location, something that made him both sad and intensely proud to work for the Old Man; a boss who cared enough to regularly visit the graves of his fallen agents was a man worthy of his loyalty.
The cemetery was deceptively cluttered, the better to camouflage identities and therefore eliminate, hopefully, desecration by malicious enemies. So many of the men, and a very few women, who lay here had no families to visit these graves so it was left to their Chief, the man who had sent them out into the battle, to tend to their memories. Waverly did it with a heavy heart, remembering each face and the missions that claimed them. He would spend an hour or so here in the Valley of Baca, his own valley of tears.
~~~~~:
In Key West those two top agents whose activities occupied the thoughts of their boss back in New York were about the business of tracking down the THRUSH activity in the vibrant beach community. Napoleon was currently sipping a martini alongside a pretty young woman whose property was situated near the lighthouse. He had researched the addresses and property owners, so tracking down the lovely Meryl Leach at her favorite restaurant had been an easy task for the suave spy.
"So what brings you to Key West, Mr. Solo?" Meryl was an impressive woman, a successful entrepreneur whose little seaside design business made her clothing a staple in many of the wealthiest residents' closets.
"Napoleon, please...' The smile assured Meryl that the gentleman was all that he appeared to be.
"I have a friend here who invited me down for the weekend, or however long I wish to stay. He's new here himself, although his family had some early ties to the Keys." That would be Illya, and the family ties were completely fictitious, but perhaps intriguing enough to merit an invitation to some inner circles.
"Oh, that sounds like a good friend if he's willing to let you have carte blanche on the length of your visit." She was glad of it, too. This Napoleon Solo would make a fun playmate, and she was almost certain that her friends in THRUSH would be willing to reward her for eventually bringing him in.
"He is, a good friend that is. And what do you do here, if I may ask?" Napoleon suspected that the lovely blonde across from him was one of the citizens Mr. Waverly had warned him about. To think that they were actually inviting in THRUSH activity... Secession from Florida with a ruling element like the Hierarchy; these people were in for a big surprise.
In another location Illya met up with the two Miami agents, Alfonse Gonzalez and Isabel Estefan. They were highly regarded within the Command for their work within Hispanic communities that had been targeted by THRUSH for recruiting young men and woman out of barrios and refugee camps. Alfonse was dressed in a typical Cuban ensemble of linen pants and guayabera shirt. Illya had donned similar clothing in an effort to meld into the environment of Key West.
Isabel was dressed less traditionally, wearing a strapless dress that clung precariously close to her ample curves. The beautiful brunette was bronzed and lithe, her three inch heels making her exactly Kuryakin's height as he stood to greet them.
"Hola Isabel, Alfonse. ¿Cómo estás?" Hand shakes and hugs were exchanged as the trio greeted one another warmly. Illya had worked previously with these two on a small assignment in Miami and found them both pleasant and agreeable company, as well as excellent operatives.
"We are well, Illya. ¿Y usted?"
"Si, muy bueno.' Illya looked around the small outside cafe, registering faces and temperaments of the patrons.
"I am very well, thank you. What do you have for me concerning this lighthouse business? From what Mr. Waverly has told us the local citizenry have become involved in some sort of underground secession effort that is being aided by THRUSH, explaining their presence at the lighthouse."
Alfonse and Isabel exchanged knowing looks, then proceeded to deliver the information they had gathered. Isabel began.
"We have some contacts within the population here who are aware of these... um... rumblings of rebellion. It is a minority among some of the wealthiest citizens who feel that they can separate from the state of Florida and become independent, a 51st state. THRUSH has infiltrated their ranks, encouraging and aiding their cause. The lighthouse was chosen as the perfect location for their planning meetings, which enabled THRUSH to set up their equipment. We do not know, yet, just what it is they are doing there."
Illya was thoughtful about that. He supposed it would be his job to find out the purpose of the lighthouse occupation.
"What do you think, Alfonse, is secession possible?" The handsome Cuban national had attended college in the United States, gained a law degree and was working with Cuban immigrants when the missile crisis occurred. In an effort to be even more effective he had sought out the Command, joining and passing Survival School with flying colors. Both he and Isabel were part of a new wave of agents with backgrounds necessary to serve emerging nations and ethnic groups, both in the U.S. and internationally.
"It is baseless, with only a few wealthy inhabitants behind the movement. The true threat is THRUSH, and whatever it is they have going on in the lighthouse. With naval bases and flight paths in the area, I suspect there is some form of sabotage in the planning."
Illya agreed. He would need to infiltrate the lighthouse soon.
TO BE CONTINUED...
~~~~~:
Alexander Waverly looked out over the city from his helicopter, anxious to get back to the desk he called home. Funny how an inanimate object could become such an essential part of one's life, he mused. Not so funny was the situation down in Key West. His two best agents were there now on what had started as a seemingly uncomplicated affair: identify the THRUSH activity and shut it down. Only now it wasn't so simple; there were locals involved who had orchestrated the infiltration of the Hierarchy into their city, and the rumblings of secession were beginning to come up out of the depths of that debacle. These people obviously did not understand with whom they were dealing.
The UNCLE helicopter dropped down gradually until the pilot had his landing site beneath him. Every once in a while he was instructed to detour to this location, something that made him both sad and intensely proud to work for the Old Man; a boss who cared enough to regularly visit the graves of his fallen agents was a man worthy of his loyalty.
The cemetery was deceptively cluttered, the better to camouflage identities and therefore eliminate, hopefully, desecration by malicious enemies. So many of the men, and a very few women, who lay here had no families to visit these graves so it was left to their Chief, the man who had sent them out into the battle, to tend to their memories. Waverly did it with a heavy heart, remembering each face and the missions that claimed them. He would spend an hour or so here in the Valley of Baca, his own valley of tears.
~~~~~:
In Key West those two top agents whose activities occupied the thoughts of their boss back in New York were about the business of tracking down the THRUSH activity in the vibrant beach community. Napoleon was currently sipping a martini alongside a pretty young woman whose property was situated near the lighthouse. He had researched the addresses and property owners, so tracking down the lovely Meryl Leach at her favorite restaurant had been an easy task for the suave spy.
"So what brings you to Key West, Mr. Solo?" Meryl was an impressive woman, a successful entrepreneur whose little seaside design business made her clothing a staple in many of the wealthiest residents' closets.
"Napoleon, please...' The smile assured Meryl that the gentleman was all that he appeared to be.
"I have a friend here who invited me down for the weekend, or however long I wish to stay. He's new here himself, although his family had some early ties to the Keys." That would be Illya, and the family ties were completely fictitious, but perhaps intriguing enough to merit an invitation to some inner circles.
"Oh, that sounds like a good friend if he's willing to let you have carte blanche on the length of your visit." She was glad of it, too. This Napoleon Solo would make a fun playmate, and she was almost certain that her friends in THRUSH would be willing to reward her for eventually bringing him in.
"He is, a good friend that is. And what do you do here, if I may ask?" Napoleon suspected that the lovely blonde across from him was one of the citizens Mr. Waverly had warned him about. To think that they were actually inviting in THRUSH activity... Secession from Florida with a ruling element like the Hierarchy; these people were in for a big surprise.
In another location Illya met up with the two Miami agents, Alfonse Gonzalez and Isabel Estefan. They were highly regarded within the Command for their work within Hispanic communities that had been targeted by THRUSH for recruiting young men and woman out of barrios and refugee camps. Alfonse was dressed in a typical Cuban ensemble of linen pants and guayabera shirt. Illya had donned similar clothing in an effort to meld into the environment of Key West.
Isabel was dressed less traditionally, wearing a strapless dress that clung precariously close to her ample curves. The beautiful brunette was bronzed and lithe, her three inch heels making her exactly Kuryakin's height as he stood to greet them.
"Hola Isabel, Alfonse. ¿Cómo estás?" Hand shakes and hugs were exchanged as the trio greeted one another warmly. Illya had worked previously with these two on a small assignment in Miami and found them both pleasant and agreeable company, as well as excellent operatives.
"We are well, Illya. ¿Y usted?"
"Si, muy bueno.' Illya looked around the small outside cafe, registering faces and temperaments of the patrons.
"I am very well, thank you. What do you have for me concerning this lighthouse business? From what Mr. Waverly has told us the local citizenry have become involved in some sort of underground secession effort that is being aided by THRUSH, explaining their presence at the lighthouse."
Alfonse and Isabel exchanged knowing looks, then proceeded to deliver the information they had gathered. Isabel began.
"We have some contacts within the population here who are aware of these... um... rumblings of rebellion. It is a minority among some of the wealthiest citizens who feel that they can separate from the state of Florida and become independent, a 51st state. THRUSH has infiltrated their ranks, encouraging and aiding their cause. The lighthouse was chosen as the perfect location for their planning meetings, which enabled THRUSH to set up their equipment. We do not know, yet, just what it is they are doing there."
Illya was thoughtful about that. He supposed it would be his job to find out the purpose of the lighthouse occupation.
"What do you think, Alfonse, is secession possible?" The handsome Cuban national had attended college in the United States, gained a law degree and was working with Cuban immigrants when the missile crisis occurred. In an effort to be even more effective he had sought out the Command, joining and passing Survival School with flying colors. Both he and Isabel were part of a new wave of agents with backgrounds necessary to serve emerging nations and ethnic groups, both in the U.S. and internationally.
"It is baseless, with only a few wealthy inhabitants behind the movement. The true threat is THRUSH, and whatever it is they have going on in the lighthouse. With naval bases and flight paths in the area, I suspect there is some form of sabotage in the planning."
Illya agreed. He would need to infiltrate the lighthouse soon.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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Date: 2014-05-13 02:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-05-13 09:17 pm (UTC)