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section7mfu
‘Your hair is a bit mussed.” Illya said that with a straight face, as though a few stray strands of hair was the worst part of what had just happened. Napoleon let his face respond to the comment with an expression somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. It was a disaster zone inside the restaurant, and no one to blame except for themselves. How was Mr. Waverly going to react?
“You know Illya, between the two of us we’ve encountered a lot of strange situations and made a few mistakes trying to fix the problem, but this one...” Napoleon shook his head in disbelief at the mess behind them and was already dreading the expense report he would file; he had serious doubts that this one would be reimbursed.
Illya had been looking forward to the rest of his meal.
“You know Napoleon, we really had no chance of stopping this. He was a pickpocket, I didn’t even know the waiter had stolen my money clip...” Napoleon looked at the Russian with a still disgusted look on his face.
“You had to bring the exploding money clip to dinner? Why Illya? Why did you need an exploding money clip at Luigi’s?” So now it was out.
“I suppose you think it’s all my fault that he blew up the back of Luigi’s.” A snort was part of Napoleon’s reply.
“Well yeah, it wasn’t me carrying an explosive money clip.” He knew it wasn’t Illya’s fault, it was the waiter who caused all of this misery, but still...
“No, but who expected a waiter to steal it right under our noses?” Illya’s question was softly spoken; he loved Luigi’s and would be sore pressed to find another Italian eatery as good as this one had been.
“The waiter was a THRUSH agent.” A new voice chimed in accompanied by the delicate scent of L’air Du Temps.
“April, when did you get here?” Napoleon stood up and dusted away the lettuce leaves that had landed on his jacket. April smiled and helped him straighten his tie.
“My goodness, you boys sure know how to bring down the house.” That brought a groan from Illya who would be mourning the loss of a favorite restaurant for some time. He also stood up, it was undoubtedly time to get down to business with the appearance of another agent... make that two agents.
“Hello Mark. Mr. Waverly sent both of you down here?” As traffic in this little neighborhood began to slow down for a better look at the damaged building, the four agents headed back inside for a more thorough inspection. Luigi Adalardi, the proprietor and chef of the restaurant bearing his name was speaking with a fireman and a policeman, both of whom were jotting down details in their notebooks. When the UNCLE agents entered there was a momentary hush of activity that quickly resumed.
“Okay, I guess we’re not going to be taken off in a paddy wagon.” Napoleon had thought it was a possibility.
“A what? We did not do anything wrong, Napoleon. The waiter...”
“Yeah, I know. The waiter took your exploding money clip and ...”
“Would you please stop staying exploding money clip. Money clip will suffice.”
April put a finger up to each man’s lips, a not too subtle plea for silence. Mark chuckled at the sight of his two superiors arguing over whose fault it was that the restaurant was now missing its back end.
“Listen to me Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin,’ April said each name emphatically as she prepared to recite what had been learned about this situation.
“The waiter, whose name is Joseph Asaldi, is... or rather was, a THRUSH agent. He was hired here just yesterday and was apparently sent in as a waiter in order to intercept UNCLE agents known to frequent this establishment.” Mark raised his eyebrows at the last part of April’s speech.
“Uh, I believe that would be you two.” He shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘I guess they caught on’.
Napoleon was flabbergasted by the revelation, while Illya retained a stony expression.
“Are you telling me that the waiter stole Illya’s expl...’ Illya shot his partner a look that would have splintered a lesser man.
“Illya’s money clip...’’ a smile failed to disguise the smirk beneath it. “As part of a THRUSH plot? Are they that desperate for new technology?”
“Does it matter why they stole it? The fact that they targeted us, that we were so completely predictable that they knew where we’d eat dinner... ‘ the blond was indignant over such an amateurish failure on his and Napoleon’s part.
“We failed, Napoleon. We let down our guard and tried to be ... “
“Normal? I think you mean that you thought you could do something normal and not get caught.” April was wise for such a young woman. Illya was aware once again of how attractive Miss Dancer was, and keenly aware of her on again, off again attraction to him. He wondered if it was on currently.
“Yes, I believe that is probably what we were thinking. If this waiter, Joseph...?”
“Asaldi. He was not a seasoned agent, which probably explains why, after stealing the money clip he made the great error of throwing it into an empty trash can, thinking he would go back for it later.” April had spoken with some of the staff and was told of how Asaldi came through the double doors that separated the dining area from the kitchen, tossing an object up into the air and catching it. He announced that he would take out the trash after he delivered one more order and tossed the object into an empty canister.
“And that’s when the whole back end went up with a big bang. Luckily no one else was hurt.” The three men were dumbfounded. If Asaldi knew it was an exploding element, why would he toss it like that?
“I don’t feel so bad now. Well, I do think we will have to rethink our dining habits, since obviously THRUSH is watching a little more closely than even we imagined.” Napoleon knew an agent was always at risk, he just hadn’t expected this.
“Napoleon, it isn’t that the routine made us vulnerable. The problem was the man sent to follow us, to lift whatever secrets he could. Our presence here caused an unfortunate incident and it all lies in the zone of unpredictable actions made by less than stellar examples of what an agent on either side should be. Asaldi made a big mistake, and paid for it with his life.”
A silent ascent from the other three was all that was done as a sign of agreement. A man lost his life, but it could have been much worse. Careless actions cost lives, but thankfully Luigi and his staff were all safe and unharmed, as were all of the patrons in the restaurant.
“Mr. Waverly has it on good authority that THRUSH has upped its efforts to try and gain whatever they can in the way of new UNCLE technological advancements. The fact that they’re now hiring common criminals like Asaldi to do their work for them shows how desperate they are. Thieves, pickpockets... who knows the extent of this new tactic.” April was right, it wasn’t about being sophisticated; THRUSH was reverting to old, time honored criminal techniques.
“Look mates,’ Mark chimed in now, feeling a little sorry for the other two men. “I’ve got some money burning a hole in my pocket. Dinner’s on me, let’s go get a bite before we have to report back on all of this. What d’ya say?”
There was nothing more to do here. Legally, no one was at fault, and the insurance would pay for all the repairs. Having agreed to Mark’s offer, Napoleon and Illya bade farewell to Luigi, promising to return when his doors were open again.
The cafe´suggested by Mark was a hit with everyone, and him picking up the tab cause for even more merriment. All in all, recovery was in process. As the foursome were getting ready to leave, Illya pulled April aside in a way that he hoped wouldn't raise any interest from either Mark or Napoleon.
“What is it Illya?” April was unaware of any private business between the two of them, and her recent encounter with the UNCLE staff psychologist, Dr. Donald Whitfield*, had taken her mind off of the aloof Russian agent. She had been infatuated with the cool blond, but lately the stability of an older man, specifically Dr. Whitfield, had made her rethink the schoolgirl crush.
Illya saw the lack of ardor now, the eyes reflecting not so much of the former looks of longing he had observed. Was he wrong about April? Perhaps his own realizations were now ill timed and no longer welcome.
“I... Well, I ... appreciate your kind words this afternoon. Thank you for interviewing the staff and ... hmm... You did a fine job. Thank you.”
April was a little confused as to why Illya would take her aside to say what was so obviously pertinent to all of them. She wondered ... Oh. Oh!
“Just doing my job, but I appreciate your noticing it. Thank you Illya.”
Wow, what had just happened? April wasn’t sure if she should encourage this new advance... Was it an advance? Was he wanting to say more? In a flash it was too late. Illya was walking out the door and joining Napoleon and Mark, leaving April to wonder about Russians and psychiatrists and girls who wore mini-skirts and L’air Du Temps.
“Oh, darling Illya. Now what do I do?”
Indeed. What would April do?
*Dr. Whitfield
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Date: 2014-07-15 11:30 pm (UTC)I should do UNCLE-centric prompts more often! Glad you were able to join in the Picfic!
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Date: 2014-07-16 02:30 am (UTC)Thanks!
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Date: 2014-07-15 11:38 pm (UTC)This was a lot of fun. I loved seeing the fallout from the expl - er - money clip:)
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Date: 2014-07-16 02:32 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2014-07-16 02:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-07-16 05:46 am (UTC)Joining the others in hoping you'll continue on this.
(Cheer up, Illya. She would have obeyed the Law of Undulation anyway.)
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Date: 2014-07-16 02:39 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2014-07-16 02:40 pm (UTC)