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The Three Headed Eagle Affair |
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The Three Headed Eagle Affair |
WARNING: Where do
I begin? First: in my universe, Illya Nicovetch Kuryakin's name has been emended/changed/corrected/taken
in vain and he is now called Ilya Nicolaievich Kuryakin. Second: Be on the
lookout for a Mary Sue original character. Relax folks, she doesn't get to
marry either one of our heroes. She doesn't even get a kiss. However, she
is really competent.
PAIRING: Napoleon Solo and Ilya Kuryakin (see Warnings above)
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: None to my knowledge, that would meant I stuck to my guns
(canons).
ARCHIVE: Not without my permission.
DISCLAIMERS & SUMMARY: See Author's Notes posted below.
Act XI - Babes in Sovietland
Agent Ping distributed their travel documents via his "back door." The plans
were made. A forged letter from the under-Secretary of Health, Education,
and Welfare asking for the tour leader to meet with the counter-equivalent
in the Politburo had been dispatched and a favorable answer received. Two
hours before their "charter" flight, courtesy of Solo Air, was scheduled to
leave, Napoleon was summoned to Waverly's office.
"You are planning a vacation, Mr. Solo?" Napoleon had thought it best to submit
a leave request.
"Yes sir."
"Excellent. I find Moscow to be delightful this time of year."
Napoleon's jaw dropped. He knew the old man would figure it out eventually
but had counted on their being out of the country before the light dawned.
"Yes sir."
"Relax, Mr. Solo. I was waiting for you to attempt something of this sort.
I'm only surprised it took this long."
"Well sir, I wanted to be sure you had exhausted every means at your disposal
before..."
"Quite right. You do realize I will have no knowledge of your actions should
things go wrong?"
"Of course, sir. If things miscarry, and if I'm alive at the end of it, I
plan to resign. You can state you'd been concerned for my mental health but
had been reluctant to act, and so on. Disavow me, sir. Do whatever you need
to keep UNCLE's reputation from being damaged."
"Yet you are willing to risk damaging it?"
"Yes sir, I am. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try to get
Ilya home. If I fail, my life becomes a moot point."
"I had no idea when I put you two together, your dependency on your partner
would so manifest itself. Perhaps your partnership, for want of a better word,
will need to be re-evaluated."
"What do you want me to say, sir? That I can't live without him? That I would
do anything in my power to get him back? All right, I've said it. If you think
I am no longer capable of performing my duties, you have every right to dismiss
me, sir." Napoleon said quietly.
"I never said anything about dismissing anybody. Prior to your being partnered
with Mr. Kuryakin I thought you incapable of expressing deep feeling. Although
detachment has its uses, particularly in our profession, too much of a good
thing is just as dangerous as its absence. Your love for each other..." Alexander
Waverly smiled at Solo's reaction to the word. "...existed long before either
of you had the sense to acknowledge it. You were my best team then, and since
you've expanded the nature of your partnership, you've become even better."
The old man paused to re-light his pipe. "Quite frankly, I wish all of my
teams, regardless of gender would do as you did. The collateral damage to
the innocent would be reduced greatly. No, when I said I would have to re-evaluate
your relationship I meant in light of making its existence more generally
known. I've never liked prejudice in any of its forms and I think those who
derive profit from it through blackmail to be the lowest form of life. This
agency prides itself on being free from patriotic clap-trap and party ideologies.
I think it only logical that UNCLE should also be above petty shibboleths
masquerading as religious dogma or the kind of cock-eyed, crackpot science
employed by people like Adolph Hitler. God has yet to relay to me His thoughts
on same-gender relationships and until He does, I am willing to refrain from
passing judgment."
"I see, sir. Thank you." Napoleon's mind reeled. Just when you thought you'd
plumbed the depths of Waverly's mind, the old boy delighted in faking you
out of your socks.
"And Mr. Solo?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Do let me know what you think of your 'associates' performance on your mission."
"Yes, sir."
NS*IK*NS*IK*NS
On the flight from La Guardia, the team went over the last details of their
upcoming mission. They landed in Moscow and were met by an Intourist guide.
The baby agents looked suitably wide-eyed as their bus took them into the
city and their hotel. Having a Soviet instructor solved any number of problems.
Thanks to Ilya's idle remark that Soviet hotels were an "exterminator's paradise,"
their conversations were limited to the usual comments made whilst checking
in and assigning rooms.
April Dancer, decked out in sensible shoes and thick horn-rimmed glasses,
shared a room with the only female "student", Athea. Napoleon was billeted
with Mark Slate. The remaining males were assigned a triple and a double room.
After a bland meal in the hotel dining room, they all trooped up to bed. So
far, so good.
The state security operatives listened intently as the students prepared for
sleep. Unknown to them, each of the rooms had designated provocateurs. In
one room, Ed Barrows was loudly saying his prayers prior to getting into bed.
The KGB men nodded to each other. They would watch him. Christians were always
trying to undermine socialist progress with their outmoded ideals of right
and wrong, justice and religious freedom. Looking at the list of contents
of the luggage for that room, they smiled when they noted a small pocket Bible.
At some point, during the tour, that item would "disappear."
In another room, a young man was avidly describing the cute Aeroflot hostess
he'd observed in the terminal and making crude remarks about the eagerness
of Soviet women to bed foreigners in exchange for their currency. Writing
a note to have an attractive KGB colleague run into this man, Robin Boniface;
the listener turned up the volume. He might as well see if he could brush
up on his own techniques.
"What do you think so far?" April asked sleepily in the dark.
"I think these people could teach ours a thing or two." Athea's voice replied.
"I've never seen streets that were so clean in such a big city. And those
little cars are yummy. Just the thing to use on campus." This conversation
when transcribed would be earmarked for the Trade Ministry.
"Well Nathan, what's first on our agenda?" An English accent was heard.
"A visit to the under-Minister of Education for me." A smooth American voice.
"Jolly good. I hope our interpreter is up to the ghastly English spoken by
this crew of ours. It took me months to figure out what they were saying."
From the second room, gold dust. "Do you think we'll get to meet any cute
lady spies? I'm just dying to try out my new camera. Who knows, our State
Department may thank us for keeping our eyes open..."
The KGB man made a phone call. The Intourist guide would have to determine
which of the little beasts had a new camera and then he would find himself
meeting more attractive women than he thought possible.
NS*IK*NS*IK*NS
After an equally tasteless breakfast, the students boarded their bus. Overnight
a new guide had been assigned to them. She was a beautiful red-head outfitted
in the best ensemble the KGB stores could devise. She accidentally bumped
into Agent Ping. "That is a very nice camera. I gave a similar one to my little
brother for his birthday." Ping gave his best eager grin and embarked on a
highly enthusiastic explanation of how the camera worked. He hoped THRUSH
would turn out to be as predictable.
As the students filed into the Museum of Soviet Technology, Professor "Nathan
Samuels" was driven away in a government car to meet with the under-Minister.
He was in for a big surprise. Tucked safely in his briefcase was a transcript
of Andrei Kalenikov's testimony. It had been smuggled in by the simple expedient
of Napoleon's inner suit pocket. Although the KGB would have loved to strip-search
all foreign visitors upon arrival, their nation's reliance on foreign currency
prevented such harsh methods.
"Comrade Minister." Napoleon shook the proffered hand then sat down. "Thank
you for taking time out of your busy schedule to see me. This is a beautiful
office. I only wish my country took education as seriously as this."
"You are most welcome, Professor Samuels. Would you like some tea?"
"No, thank you. We had tea with our breakfast."
"Pah. That is what westerners call tea. I owe it to your Uncle Aleksandr to
show you the real thing."
"Excuse me?" Napoleon thought it best to express his reaction somehow.
"Come now, Mr. Solo. We have been expecting your visit for some time. We both
know Uncle Sasha has his hands tied in this matter..."
"Excuse me, but who are you?"
"I am Dmitri Sergeivich Shinkin, under-Minister for Foreign Affairs. Forgive
our little ruse but I thought it best to keep your appearance on my doorstep
as quiet as possible. You are here about Kuryakin, yes?"
"Da." Napoleon smiled. This could be a trick, but he might as well play along
with it.
"Blackmail is one of the best ways to move those in control of our organs
of state security. I assume you came prepared?" At his guest's hesitation.
Dmitri smiled. "One of my oldest friends was in charge of a prison camp for
politicals. I had given my masters reason to doubt my commitment to the glorious
Soviet cause and they suggested working under him as a guard would be just
the thing to teach me a lesson. While there, I discovered we had many things
in common, including a love of children." The older man paused as a female
aide brought in the tea tray.
"Spasibo, Helena Petrovich. We will serve ourselves." Dmitri added some red
currant jam to each glass and handed one to his guest. "Yes, I will never
forget the little blond boy who lived with the commandant. He rarely talked
and almost never smiled, but all of us thought him remarkable. Our commandant
later adopted him. Thanks to Grigoriev's sponsorship, I have a nice office
and a comfortable life. May I see the letter you brought for me?"
Napoleon trusted his instincts. He handed over the typewritten sheets then
sipped his tea as Shinkin read them carefully.
"This is very bad. Do you believe it to be true?"
"Yes. It is corroborated by the little boy you mentioned. I heard it firsthand
and only wish I hadn't."
"I understand. Unfortunately, in matters of education my country is far behind
yours. In matters of abnormal psychology our policy has been fatally shortsighted;
pretend it doesn't exist. I can only hope we do not pay an even more terrible
price for this idiocy. Our children are taught nothing about their bodies
and the dangers that can come from predators such as these." He lifted the
papers and let them fall back to his desk.
"So. The man named here is already experiencing difficulties resulting from
his failure to obtain a confession from your partner." Napoleon only nodded.
He thought he'd observed a gleam in the man's eye when the word "partner"
was uttered. "This may be just what we need to convince our comrade to cease
and desist plus a few things more. I am assuming Uncle Sasha's offer of intelligence
is still on the table?"
"Yes."
"Good. I am scheduled to meet with...". Shinkin nudged the papers towards
Napoleon. "...tomorrow morning. Return to your students. I think I can safely
say that your stay in our country will be regrettably brief." The under-Minister
rose and extended his hand. "Give my regards to your uncle and thank him for
his patience in this matter."
Napoleon retrieved the papers and followed his escort from the building. It
couldn't be this easy.
"Helena Petrovich, get me Comrade Grigoriev on the phone." Dmitri Shinkin
sighed. It was time to pay a debt that was long overdue. If the truth were
known, the debt was owed equally to Irina Grigorieva.
"Comrade Shinkin, I have the Major on the phone, line two." His secretary's
voice said from the intercom.
"Spasibo. Nikolai! I was just thinking of you and your lovely wife. Is there
any chance we could meet for lunch? Good. Lunch for two in my office. Please
give my love to Irina and tell her I hope to see her soon. It's been too long,
old friend."
That should do it. Grigoriev may have an escort but the man would be left
alone while they talked. He owed his former commandant's wife his life and
sanity. This was one obligation he would enjoy paying off.
NS*IK*NS*IK*NS
"Why did he do it, Irina?" Nikolai's voice was troubled. One of his guards
had been found in his quarters unconscious after slashing his wrists.
"Let me talk to him, Niko." Irina said. Her husband agreed and left her to
her vigil.
Dmitri woke up to find Irina holding his hand. In a few short minutes he'd
confessed weeping his love for another member of the guard force and his terror
at what that would mean for his future.
Irina listened and talked and saved his life. "That you can love in the midst
of all this, is the only thing that matters. Your desires are not wrong or
perverted. They only become so if you attempt to force yourself on the unwilling
or innocent children. I know you, Dmitri Sergeivich. You will not do these
things. Now can I tell my husband what we talked about and put his mind to
rest? He feels you were perhaps depressed by your being sent here." Dmitri
agreed and was surprised when Nikolai advised him to wait for better times
but never to feel ashamed of himself.
NS*IK*NS*IK*NS
Dmitri was married now with two children he loved dearly but he knew he was
living a lie. "Better times" never came but he also did not live in fear.
He trusted the Grigorievs as they had trusted him with secrets far more dangerous.
If it was the last thing he did, he would see them and their son safely out
of the Rodina.