"The Castex Experiment"~ For the PicFic Tuesday challenge

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Napoleon Solo was a man made to wear a tuxedo. His suave and charming demeanor as well as that expensive tux granted him entrance to the posh soiree being hosted poolside at the mansion currently occupied by Dr. Emile-Georges Castex.

The fact that Solo had motored in to the private dock from a forty foot yacht anchored off shore helped seal the deal...that and a forged gold embossed invitation.

His cover was that of a wealthy investor, just the sort that Castex was courting to fund his operation. Precisely what that operation was, U.N.C.L.E. had no idea.

“Be careful my friend,” Kuryakin whispered as he helped his partner from the dingy to the dock. “I will not be close enough to give you immediate backup should you get in trouble.” Illya was dressed in a light polo shirt, and dark bathing trunks, suitable to the Carribean climate, though the temperatures were quite comfortable, given the Russian's dislike of the heat.

“Understood. This is a reconnoiter only so it should be a quick in and out.”

“Speaking of in and out, please do not fraternize with any of the ladies in attendance?” Illya now spoke into his microphone to his partner, testing it out.

“No more than necessary chum, scouts honor,” Napoleon touched his finger to his earpiece.

“That is what I am afraid of...and take your hand away from your ear. If I can see it, others could as well.”

Solo chuckled. “Always the worrier partner mine.”

“Someone has to do it.” That was the last thing the Russian said as he let go the mooring line and began his trip back to the yacht. He lifted a warm bottle of cola to his lips, taking a long sip.

His recurring issue with sea sickness when on board a boat had been resolved with his discovery of a non-drowsy version of Dramamine. That along with his homemade ginger tablets and of course, drinking warm coca-cola worked quite nicely for what would Illya hoped be an uneventful stint on the water.

It was only if a storm churned up the water that could potentially cause him trouble, but since the Marine forecast was for calm seas; that was good enough for Kuryakin to not be overly concerned about his being seasick.

Napoleon strolled up the long flight of stairs snaking along the tree covered the cliff-side leading to the house; His eyes took in everything, surveying a neatly manicured terrace off to his left leading back down to the bulkhead that held back the waters of the inlet.

He spotted a lift, hidden from view by the trees.The only thing of note was a small bunker, grey metal with steps leading down to a door; very much out of place with the lavish decor above.

Outside the bunker stood two men; one young ginger-haired man dressed casually; he seemed to be arguing with the other whom Napoleon instantly recognized as a strong arm long in the employ of T.H.R.U.S.H.

The man sported a shaved head now and was wearing a black patch over one eye, that injury having been caused by none other than Kuryakin during their last encounter.

Solo pretended to clear his throat, speaking into his radio transmitter hidden under the lapel of his tux. “Illya bad news, Theo Boucher is here.”

“Do you think I should come ashore and take over the duties of one of the waiters? After all Boucher knows your face as well, you will need backup.”

“That’s a negative, just stay put.”

Napoleon moved swiftly but casually as he arrived at the upper terrace, mingling among the guest who surrounded a lavish built in swimming pool; grabbing a champagne cocktail from a tray as a waiter passed by.

A pianist was playing non-descript music that blended with the cacophony of conversation.

Solo took a sip from his fluted glass, speaking in hushed tones this time.

”The guest list reads like a who’s who of the financiers of the world, the kind that like to back people of dubious reputations that is. Though there’s still a few people I don’t recognize.”

“Get pictures.”

Solo reached over to his cufflink as he raised his glass to his lips again, and pressing a tiny button; he activated a hidden camera. As he scanned the crowd, he took at least a half-dozen shots. The last one of which focused on the lovely cleavage of a blonde in a low cut silvery gown, the metallic material of which clung to her body yet was still quite revealing..

She was lithe but muscular, and curved in all the right places, from the looks of it 36-22-36. His libido kicked in on automatic.

“Hello there,” Napoleon smiled, reached out and grabbing another glass of champagne as a waiter passed by. He offered it to the woman who immediately responded to his exuding charms.

“Napoleon…” Illya growled a warning into his ear.

“Just mingling chum,” he whispered before raising his voice to introduce himself. “King, Edward King, and you are my dear?”

“Honey, last name Dearest, just so there’s no confusion...handsome.”

“Well my my, aren’t you just the sweetest thing,” he crooned.

“And aren’t you just so typical. How boring. Au revoir Mr. King,” she stuck her pretty little nose in the air and giving him the cold shoulder; she turned, walking  away from him.

“Shut up,” Napoleon said; hearing his partner snickering.

Strolling to the terrace edge and leaning on the white marble railing, Solo looked down at the bunker again. Boucher and the other man were gone.  No sign of a guard.

He turned, surveying the crowd again. and spotted Theo heading in his direction, though it didn’t seem as though the man had seen him yet.  It was time for a distraction.

“Illya I’m going to check out that bunker.”

“Napoleon may I remind you this is supposed to be…”

“Yes I know so don’t get your knickers in a bunch, I’ll be fine.”

“So much for scouts honor,” Kuryakin mumbled.

“I heard that…”

Napoleon moved towards the pool and in one swift motion he managed to push several people into the water, including the blonde who snubbed him; creating quite the diversion as her flimsy dress literally floated up and away from her.

While everyone’s attention was mainly on the nude woman splashing about in the pool, the American took off towards the lift; he stepped on board the glass conveyance and rode it down to the unguarded terrace where the bunker was located.

As he stepped out, he saw the casually dressed man again standing at the top of the bunker steps, smoking a cigarette and walked directly to him.

“Pardon me, but I seem to be somewhat lost. I’m looking for Doctor Castex. I’m supposed to be meeting with him shortly.”

“Oh, why yes. He’s in the lab. I’m going back down myself,” the ginger haired young man had a definite Irish accent.” I can let him know yer here, though he’s a bit busy right at the moment.”

“Oh that won’t be necessary…” Napoleon said, pretending to check his pockets. “I seemed to have forgotten my checkbook. Can’t give the good doctor any funding without it can I?” ”Napoleon bluffed. His name being announced could blow his cover as there was no Edward King on the guest list and Dr. Castex would know that.

“Fine suit yerself,” the young man eyed him suspiciously.

Solo slapped the man on the back, quickly planting a listening device just under his collar. “I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced. My name is Edward King, of King Industries.”

“Oh, yes, ummm. My name is Peadar,” he took a long drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and snuffing it with his shoe.From the looks of it he was a heavy smoker for a young guy, as there were quite a few butts laying on the concrete floor beside the entrance.

“Smoking’s not good for your health Peadar,” Napoleon acted rather chummy.

“Yeah yeah, not like I haven’t heard the likes of that before Mr. King. Now I need to be off, the doctor is about to run a test, sort of a show for the guests. You might want ta go back up poolside as you’ll get the better view there.”

“Thanks. At least I know where to go now for my meeting. Thanks Peadar.”

“Sure no problem.” Peadar hopped down the three steps to the door and there Solo watched him, making note of the careless manner in which he entered the entrance code and disappeared, closing the door behind him.

“Napoleon, do not do inside there,” Illya said.” The listening device you planted on him will suffice.”

“Well I think I’ll wait for the moment. Let’s see what this demonstration is all about.”

“I will repeat myself,” Illya said.”Please be careful.”

“Always chum, always.”

Napoleon looked out at the sky as he made his way back to the lift staring at a darkening clouds and hoed  the listening device he’d planted would give them the details they needed to uncover Dr. Castex’ plan.

He scanned the crowd as he stepped from the elevator, looking for Theo Boucher.

“Napoleon perhaps it is time for you to get out of there before you are discovered. You know the entry code, and we can use our scuba gear to return at night to check it out if we must.”

“We’ll see. I just want to observe this test, whatever it is.”

He walked to the railing following suit with the other guests.

A voice came over a loudspeaker, directing the guests attention to the inlet. It was Dr. Castex.

“Ladies and gentlemen, s'il vous plaît, if you would be so kind as to watch the sky. I think this little demonstration will speak for itself and you will most assuredly be generous with your money to back my endeavor. Allez…”

“Mister Solo,“ a voice said from behind the agent.

Napoleon felt something hard being pressed against his back.

“Is that your gun or you just happy so see me?” He quipped, recognized the voice of Boucher.

“Always with the smart remarks Solo,” the Thrushman answered.” So if you’re here, where is that Russian friend of yours? He can’t be far away.”

“Sorry to say I’m not quite sure, though last I heard he was somewhere in the Alps destroying yet another of your employer’s strongholds.” He turned to see Honey Dearest standing beside the Thrusman, dressed in a dark blue velour jumper.

"Oh so you're Napoleon Solo," she flashed a feral smile."So I presume it was you who were responsible for my being pushed into the pool." She reached inside Napoleon's jacket, removing his gun and communicator.

"Umm, sorry about that; I needed a diversion. You understand these things, my...Dearest."

She slapped him across that face. "That's for my dunking!" She slapped him again.

"And what was that for?"

"Because of your tacky puns with my name. I'm so tired of men doing that."

"Moi, tacky?" He laughed at her.

"Enough!" Boucher barked.

Illya ran his fingers through his hair, nervously listening to the conversation  He cursed Solo’s ability to complicate matters at times as he should have left as soon as he’d planted the bug. Illya was convinced now he would have been better off ignoring his partner and gone in as a waiterl at least he’d be there to get Napoleon out of trouble.

There was no use kicking himself now, what was the point?

“You bolvan, you just had to stay there!” Illya stood from his chair, pacing back and back and forth; his head racing with ideas over what he should do.

The wind began to pick up out over the water as the demonstration began to get underway.

Boucher pressed a finger to his ear, listening to his own microphone.

“Let him watch, then bring him down to me. I want to meet the famous Napoleon Solo,” Emile-Georges Castex said.

“With pleasure Doctor,” Boucher smiled…”Mr. Solo, if you would just divert your attention to the water, you’ll get just a taste of Dr. Castex’ plan.” He pushed Napoleon against the marble railing so he'd have essentially a front row seat.

Solo watched as the sky became black, but the only thing he was focusing on was the yacht where his partner was.

“Looks like that yacht there is in for some stormy weather,” he tried warning Illya, though he had no idea what elae was actually about to happen.

Illya heard the low rumble of thunder in the distance and cursed silently to himself. He’d laid down his headset, and never heard Napoleon’s warning.

He stood, watching a pen he’d left on the desk began to roll as the yacht seemed to be swaying more.

A coffee mug fell to the deck, smashing into dozens of pieces, but he didn’t bother cleaning it up. Instead, Illya quickly climbed topside, immediately seeing foreboding black clouds rolling surrounding him.

A vicious streak of lightning shot across the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

How could a storm like this appear in just the snap of a finger? It was clear only a few minutes ago? He found that odd, as well as the inaccuracy of the the marine forecast.

There was only one option, and that was ride out the storm where he was; heading out to sea alone would be ill advised.

As the yacht began violently sway and pitch, nausea reared itself in the Russian’s stomach. Despite his precautions, he was going to be seasick, but that was  the least of his worries.

A large wave crashed over the bow, sending the yacht listing to the starboard side. Illya grabbed onto a safety line, holding on for dear life as the boat righted itself just as the sky opened up.

That did it, his stomach erupted in protest and Illya spewed across the deck.

“What did it matter?” He asked himself as he ran his sleeve across his mouth. The rain and the waves would clear away the mess, but hopefully he would not go overboard with it as well.

Illya staggered, grabbing onto anything as the boat was thrown about like a toy. Despite battening down everything he could, the yacht was taking on too much water.

Black smoke began billowing up from the cabin. This time Kuryakin curse loudly.

“Chyort voz’mi!” He held on for dear life; the boat nearly capsizing as another violent wave hit it.

He now had another decision to make, hang in as long as he could while the boat sank and dive last minute into the churning water, or try to make it into the dingy.

Illya grabbed a life vest, and reaching for his communicator from his pocket to call his partner...another wave hit, knocking both from his hand.

As he slowly made his way to the stern of the boat, trying to wipe the water from his eyes with his wet sleeve and another wave hit, this time a huge one.

Illya lost his grip and was thrown over the side. He had hold of a mooring line but his couldn’t maintain his grip on the slippery rope. In a state of near exhaustion, he finally fell into the dark water and was pulled under...

Chapter 2

Comments

[yumyumpm.livejournal.com]

An interesting place to stop. I look forward to seeing where this goes.

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Here's the links to chapter 2: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/888878.html
Chapter 3 the conclusion.: http://section7mfu.livejournal.com/890018.html

Thanks so much for reading!