"Escape from the End of the World" ~ Part 8

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Links to Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

                   

After breakfast the trio of agents headed via taxi to April’s hotel to retrieve her suitcase and from there they proceeded in an armored Mercedes issued from the U.N.C.L.E. motor pool to the Palace of the Champs Elysées, the official residence of the governor. Located in the district of Santa Cecilia in the central region of São Paulo; the palace also held the Houses of both Civil and Military government.

The Champs Elysées formerly belonged to the aristocratic and political activist Elias Antonio Pacheco e Chaves located in what was called old mall of Bamboos, but was now known as Rio Branco Avenue.

There they’d be taking custody the General, keeping the hand off as discreet as possible. The political scene in Brazil was shaky, with the military taking on more and more power.

Seemingly, Machado being taken out of the picture simply removed one more player on the chessboard vying for ultimate power. Solo and Kuryakin inadvertently did the key chess masters a favor and nothing more than that.

The deed meant more to the men freed from that wretched prison, but where they took things from here remained to be seen.

Napoleon, Illya and April exited the Mercedes In a secure garage,  standing beside the black sedan as they listened to the clicking of footsteps that echoed off concrete surrounding them.

A small armed military escort appeared with Machado who was wearing shackles on his wrists and ankles.

Never having seen the General in person, Napoleon was impressed by his appearance.

The man was no longer dressed in the ornate white military uniform he was known to sport; instead he was wearing a well tailored three piece tan suit and a stylish gold striped silk tie. He was perhaps in his fifties,  with a full head of black hair. He was well groomed, with a thick moustache, and a had strong protruding chin.

The General stood with his shoulder erect, a proud and confident man, in spite of his circumstances.

There was one thing however, that stood more than anything to Solo. Though the man was of Portuguese origins, his eyes were blue.

“A piercing bright blue like Kuryakin’s eyes, cold...dare he think,” Napoleon observed,” more than the Russian’s? That was a neat trick.”

“Senhor Solo?” The officer commanding the guards stepped forward, giving a crisp salute.

“I am Captain De Santiago, and on behalf of my government I would like to thank you and U.N.C.L.E. for freeing the prisoners at El fin del mundo.”

This is my partner Mr. Kuryakin and this is Miss Dancer. We will be the escort for General Machado.”

“It is an honor to meet you. Your actions Mr. Solo and that of your partner,” the man nodded to Illya,” were the catalyst for deposing the Generalissimo and freeing the territory from his dictatorial rule.”

“It was an unexpected outcome, but happy to have been of service, Captain,” Napoleon acknowledged, though his reply was indeed a half truth.

“The keys,” De Santiago held them out.” Good luck Senhors and Senhorita. I am surprised your organization has sent but three of you and one being...well, let us say we are not accustomed to a woman in such a role.”

“Miss Dancer is more than capable as are all UNCLE operatives,” Napoleon interjected, but refrained from taking a defensive tone. Still his caveat achieved the desired results with De Santiago.

“I beg your pardon; I meant no insult. You must understand that I am a military man and am accustomed to using men and in greater number to achieve an objective.”

“Understandable, now if you’ll excuse us Captain, we have a plane to catch.

“Are you sure we cannot offer you a military escort to the airport Senhor Solo?”

“Não, obrigado Coronel. Discression é o nosso melhor aliado no momento_no thank you Colonel,”Illya interrupted, speaking Portuguese.”Discretion is our best ally at the moment.”

“Then I will you bid you farewell and boa sorte,” Colonel De Santiago wished them luck and saluted; clicking his heels.

General Machado, still wearing his iron bracelets and leggings was carefully seen to the back of the sedan, with Solo seated beside him. April rode shotgun while Illya slipped into the driver’s seat.

The black Mercedes eased from the secure underground garage into traffic onto the main road, the Avenida Rio Branco.

The sedan blended in with traffic, and the dark tinted windows protected them from prying eyes as they headed to Viracopos International Airport. The drive there would be a direct one, using a major route, but would take well over an hour and that was with favorable traffic.

The General finally broke the silence, looking directly at Solo. His accent was rather thick but his English was excellent.

“So I get to see face to face the brigands who caused my downfall.”

Napoleon clicked his tongue, not really caring to make conversation.

“Tsk, that would seem to be the case.”

The General in turn clicked his tongue.

Solo’s instincts sensed a threat was about to be made.

“Then you should watch your back Senhors. I may not be in power at the moment, but that does not mean my supporters are not out there. I will be freed, whether it is here or….”he paused, changing his mind. “It does not matter.

“One word from me and your lives will be snuffed like that,” he snapped his fingers. “My apologies to the senhorita for speaking so crudely, as I know she had no hand in this.”

“Oh how kind of you General, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have a hand in shooting you should anything happen to my companions here.”

“Oh the kitten has the claws of the jaguar,” Machado laughed. “Perhaps I will keep you around for my amusement.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you think you will actually make it to Cuba? I assure you I will not be leaving South America any time soon.”

“Brag tudo o que você deseja Geral. Você estará indo para Cuba, vivo ou morto_brag all you want General. You will be going to Cuba, alive or dead,” Illya chimed in, reverting to Portuguese.

“Ah... the Russian speaks at last. So typical of you Soviets to threaten. You are like the proverbial bull in the china shop, no finesse whatsoever. I am not afraid of your taunts Senhor Kuryakin. I know for a fact that your Waverly frowns upon the killing of those in your care.”

“Ah but as you said, Senhor Machado, I am a Soviet and in your case I will defer to the ways of my country when it comes to you.”

“That is General. I am Generalissimo Edmundo Cristóväo Bonifácio Henriques Machado. I earned my title and you will show it respect.”

“And I am King of all the Russias,” Illya snickered. “Your title, and you mean nothing to me...senhor.”

“We will see about that ‘Russo…” he called Illya a Russian in Portuguese.”And your puny threats mean nothing to me.”

Though attempts at intimidation rarely fazed Kuryakin, something about Machado’s demeanor actually unsettled him.  The fact that Machado knew their destination was a bit disconcerting, so his threats might just be plausible. His braggadocio, or perhaps bravado were disturbing counterpoints to the depravity and disregard for human life at ‘El fin del mundo; no doubt acted upon at the General’s behest.  

That was a Spanish name for the prison, and Illya wondered, “How old was it before the Gen..Machado,” he mentally corrected himself,”took possession of it?” However, finding out the answer to that question would have to wait until after they returned to New York. It was merely a bit of obscure knowledge, but the Russian liked those sorts of things.

Kuryakin suddenly coughed, feeling a sharp pain in his side as his wound was still quite sensitive. He held his hand there pressing against it as he coughed again.

“You all right Illya?” April whispered.

“It is nothing, I am fine.”

She glanced back at Napoleon, seeing a look of concern in his eyes as well; both of them thinking Illya taking on this assignment was not such a good idea after all, but try arguing that point with a stubborn Russian, or Waverly for that matter.

Part 9

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

The intrigue cranks up another notch. Waverly doesn't do anything without a reason, so what is his plan here?

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

It's possible Waverly was short of agents, and given IK and NS are his best better to use them since they're already down there. Still, sending April along as backup, wouldn't hurt.

Lots more to come...lots. Thanks for keeping up and commenting!

[lacik9.livejournal.com]

The General has inside information, they have a long drive to the airport, and Illya is ill - trouble abrewing...

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Oh you've hit the nail on the head. Thanks for reading and commenting. Lots more to come as the action ramps up soon.

[pactnmmt.livejournal.com]

Poor Illya. Mr. Waverly thinks his agents are supermen and can do anything regardless of their physical condition, of course, Illya's stubbornness doesn't help.

The suspense of what is coming next makes this a fun read!

[mrua7.livejournal.com]

Thank you! Yes, I think Waverly expects a lot from his people, maybe sometimes too much. Illya's stubbornness doesn't help matters, does it? Lots more to come!