It was unbelievably hot, even for a Summer's day. Napoleon had the next few days off as did his partner but Illya's solution to dealing with the extreme temperatures was to volunteer for desk duty in headquarters.
Solo's answer was the beach, not just any beach though; he decided a ride to the Rockaways was in order where the pristine white sand beaches were far enough from the city to suit him. He could have gone to Coney Island, but knew it would be crowded, but at least in Far Rockaway it was more locals and less out of towners.
"Beach?" Illya exclaimed."I want to get away from this unmerciful heat, not be in it."
"Where's your sense of adventure my friend. Sun, sand...women in bikinis."
"Napoleon that is your fantasy not mine. Now if the temperatures were frigid and you said snow, ice-covered landscapes and beautiful Russian women in which to be snowed in within a cozy dacha...I would not hesitate." Illya actually smiled.
"Snow, ice? How can you think of that? Well mentioning beautiful Russian women at least tells me there's hope for you."
Illya dismissed his partner with an unconcerned wave of his hand. "Have fun in the hot sand."
"I'm sure I will.
The drive via the Cross Bay Blvd, took around forty minutes, but given it was a Sunday, the traffic was less than usual. He was headed to Beach 98th St. and a small house owned by one of the ladies in the secretarial pool, a Kathleen Rosebrook. Though she wouldn't be joining him, she handed over the keys to the family bungalow without reservations. Just the thought of the Napoleon Solo staying at her place, sleeping in her bed was apparently was such stuff as dreams were made of.
Solo made a mental note to take her out for dinner and drinks (and for whatever else might follow) at a later date since her interest was definitely there. If anything he needed to show his appreciation for loaning him the house for a few days.
Unless he was called back to the city for an assignment, Napoleon had the run of the place until Wednesday. He tried one more call on his communicator to see if he could lure Illya away from headquarters, just for the heck of it, but his partner didn't answer.
As Napoleon turned the key to the door of the cozy little bungalow so typical of the area, he found it unlocked, and discreetly pulled his weapon, holding it at the ready.
He slowly pushed open the door with his left hand, hoping there would be no creak, but one never knew with these old places. The house had to have been built in the 1920's at least.
"You are late," a familiar voice called out.
"Illya?"
"In the flesh."
"Who the heck told you where I was going and how did you get here before me?"
"A little mouse named Kathleen mentioned to me yesterday that she was loaning you her little cottage by the sea, ergo when you asked me to go the beach with you...I put two and two together."
"Clever Russian." Napoleon's attention was suddenly diverted as he sniffed the air.
"I smell...Chinese food?"
"Yes, I just had it delivered in anticipation of your arrival. I also brought a bag of groceries."
"Wait how did you know...nevermind," the American shook his head.
He dropped his small suitcase, sitting down at the kitchen table with his partner and partook of lobster egg foo yung, chicken with cashew nuts, dumplings, egg rolls and Illya's favorite, wonton mein soup...as usual a veritable feast.
Once finished eating, Napoleon located the bright master bedroom that was obviously Kathleen's; Illya had already laid claim to the smaller room at the back of bungalow.
Solo peeked inside his partner's bedroom, seeing a full set of diving gear piled on the floor.
"Planning some scuba diving chum?"
Illya called from the kitchen while washing their dishes. "Yes, I figured it would be much cooler than sitting and baking in the sun. There is a wreck up along the coast and I have engaged a local fisherman to take me there in his boat. An interesting fellow by the name of Walter, he's referred to locally as the Commodore."
"Man tovarisch, I have to say you work fast," Napoleon chuckled."Well you be careful exploring, I hear a few of these shipwrecks can be pretty dangerous...and mind the sea life too. Plenty of sharks and…"
"When will you stop being such a mother hen my friend. This is purely recreational diving and I will be fine. Given you are not enamored of the water, I was surprised to hear you'd chosen such an excursion out of the city but then I recalled you said the beach would be covered with bikini clad birds," Illya cocked an eyebrow as he smiled." So I suppose you will be involved more in a form of bird watching than swimming. I will therefore leave you to your ogling…"
"Hey how'd you get so smart tovarisch?" Napoleon grinned.
"It has certainly not been from hanging around with you," Illya jabbed.
"Hey you just went from being a smart Russian to a smart ass one my friend."
"Thank you."
The bantering back and forth went on while they set up a checkerboard on the kitchen table and after few games, Kuryakin called it a night, saying he needed to be up early.
.
Illya left the next morning just as the sun was coming up and well before Napoleon woke.
Solo checked his partner's room when he woke, seeing everything was empty. and after having a light breakfast, changed to his bathing togs and headed with beach blanket in hand for the boardwalk. There he picked up a large glass of iced tea and walked down the steps to the immaculate white sand.
He found a spot far enough from the water so as to not have to move when the tide came in and after spreading his blanket and spread some cocoa butter on his skin to help him tan, he heard the sound of a loudy transistor radio suddenly blasting from behind him.
"We'll all be planning that route
We're gonna take real soon
We're waxing down our surfboards
We can't wait for June
We'll all be gone for the summer
We're on surfari to stay
Tell the teacher we're surfin'
Surfin' U.S.A."
"Oh wow isn't this beach just the ginchiest" A girl in a red polka dot bathing suit declared rather loudly.
"Yeah, sand is sweet, but not as sweet as you baby."
"Oh Frankie you're the tops," she practically swooned.
Napoleon rolled his eyes, thinking he'd been invaded by the cast from one of those obnoxious Beach Blanket movies that had become so popular.
"Do you mind turning down your radio a bit?" Solo lifted his sunglasses, eyeing the group of teens behind him.
"Hey old dude, we have a right to be here just as much as you do."
He ignored the comment, not wanting to start trouble as they were only kids. "Absolutely, but common courtesy should be observed and you should be a little respectful of…"
"Your elders, yeah yeah old man. We get it," another of the teens called out.
"I was going to say...neighbors," Napoleon restrained himself from saying something he'd regret...or rather they would.
"No Bonehead, he's right, " the girl in the red bathingsuit interjected." We should be considerate, otherwise we teens will have a bad reputation to live down. It's bad enough that some people don't like our kind of music."
"Actually I do like your music very much. It's just that I work hard for a living and am here to relax, enjoy the sand and surf ...and the view in relative peace and tranquility," Napoleon pleaded his case.
"Sure Mister, I understand," Annette said. "We can move farther up the beach if that would help? Right Frankie? And you Bonehead," she spoke to the other boy." Right?"
"Yeah you're right," he hung his head.
"I wouldn't want to impose…" Napoleon smiled charmingly. "My name is Solo, Napoleon Solo." He held out his hand to Frankie and then Annette".
"What a cool name," Frankie smiled," Hey Napoleon do you surf?"
"Me, no not really. Water and I don't get along too well. I prefer terra firma myself."
"Terror firmer?" Bonehead scratched his noggin.
"Terra firma...you dope," Frankie said."That means solid ground. I guess we won't be doing much surfing today though as the waves look pretty lame. We're visiting from California and the waves there are much better for surfing."
"California? You're quite a ways from home aren't you? Napoleon asked.
"We're here for Frankie's cousin Eddie's wedding. Most of these kids with us are his family. Only Bonehead tagged along with me and Frankie from home," Annette explained.
"Well tell you what, for your inconvenience of moving up the beach...I'll treat you kids to some pizza and pop later on. Just let me know when you get hungry.
"Gee thanks Napoleon, that's awfully nice of you. There's a really good pizzeria just a block away, called Romeo's. Best Pizza in Rockaway," Frankie smiled." I was born here and my family moved out to California when I was just a kid, but I still remember my way around.
"Sounds good," Napoleon smiled. "I just need to check in with my friend a little later as he's scuba diving at a shipwreck near Fire Island."
"Wow that's a good ways away. I hope he didn't try to swim it from here?" Frankie asked.
"No he chartered a boat early this morning with a fellow named the Commodore."
Frankie laughed out loud. "That's my Uncle Walter! Small world isn't it?" He was a Commodore for the Rockaway Yacht Club, that's how he got the nickname name. He's a real character my Uncle, but your friend couldn't be in better hands. What wreck is he diving in?"
"The U.S.S. San Diego."
"Oh wow, that's a pretty dangerous one. I hope your friend knows what he's doing; there's been a few people killed down there."
"Peachy," Napoleon mumbled.
.
The powerful Jersey skiff owned by Walter F. Lawson a/k/a the Commodore, weighed anchor just shy of 11 miles southeast of Fire Island Inlet. Illya Kuryakin stripped off his white tee-shirt to only his black bathing trunks and proceeded to put on his diving gear.
"Now remember boy, she's down around 115 ft, and lies upside down so be real careful you don't get disoriented inside her," the Commodore took on a lecturing tone of voice."There's been a few divers killed down there because they got all turned around. You sure you're experienced enough for this dive son?" The Commodore seemed overly concerned.
"Not to worry as I am a very experienced diver,"Illya nodded as Walter helped him heft on the the air tank.
"Well all right then. I'll expect you to be back here," he looked at his wristwatch," by 10 o'clock."
"Yes Walter, I am well aware of my oxygen limits, as I said I am an experienced diver."
"You better be careful of stingrays, the Atlantic Torpedos and sharks... watch out for them too, especially Blue sharks as they travel in larger numbers and are real stalkers."
"Yes Walter I am familiar with most sea life and even sharks." Illya shook his head, wondering why people insisted on mothering him. Did he look that helpless?
Illya lifted his legs over the side, and before Walter could say another word the Russian inserted his mouthpiece and disappeared into the cloudy water in a frenzy of air bubbles.
.
Anchored not far away was a tugboat called the "Annie" but she wasn't manned by her usual crew; several men onboard were dressed in diving gear and had just headed over the side.
"We got company Willie," one of the others said to man acting as Captain.
"Nah, ain't nothin' to worry about. It's just a fisherman. Let's just get what we came for from the wreck and get outta here."
"You sure they're on the San Diego? Wouldn't the navy have cleaned it all out by now?
"That's exactly right so why would they be checkin it again you idiot, I'm telling you I got an inside scoop from a geezer who served on the ship. There was nothin left so it's a perfect place for our suppliers to stash the goods. That way we can bring the stuff to shore with nobody suspecting a thing."
"Okay Willie, I'm taking your word for it," Louie said, "but there better not be no complications." He pulled a pistol from the waist of his pants and cocked if for effect…
