Traveling up the coast to Nice was one of the most serene, relaxing times Illya had ever known. The sun had come out and the few clouds in the sky were perfect puffy cotton balls which, combined with the jazz station he found, was enough to lift even his dark Russian soul.
He had exited the highway and was cruising on the Promenade des Anglais on his way to his hotel. He was staying at the Hotel Mercure Nice Marche' Aux Fleurs on the Quai Des Etats Unis; definitely not Illya Kuryakin's style, but it suited Marik Jaworski to a T. A beachfront hotel close to the best clubs and restaurants in town, it was where some of the wealthiest tourists stayed and liked to be seen lounging beach, bar or poolside.
He checked in and was escorted to his room by the bellhop. He had to smile as he gave the young man a very generous tip and sent him on his way. If Napoleon could see me now, he thought as he opened his suitcase to unpack. Unlike his partner, when he was sent to infiltrate high society, UNCLE had to outfit him from head to toe as his own off – the – rack wardrobe would never do.
Instead, he had been provided with clothing that, on the surface, looked very much like his usual attire, but upon closer inspection, revealed the turtlenecks, shirts, ties, suits and shoes were all high – end designer clothing befitting the likes of a spoiled rich young man. Even his regular underwear and socks had been replaced with their silken counterparts.
He thought about his partner again as he pulled his communicator from his inner jacket pocket and checked the time. Almost two. He put his communicator away. His evening is starting earlier than mine so he should be asleep now. He called Room Service and ordered a sumptuous lunch of salade Nicoise and bouillabaisse, all the while grinning at what he imagined The Old Man's reaction was going to be when he got the expense report for this affair.
He sat at his table overlooking the white sands and blue waters of the Baie des Anges eating and reflecting on how he intended to engage his target. According to Intelligence, El Saddiq is quite a party animal who resides here in Nice and goes to the casino in Monte Carlo on Saturdays to exchange his counterfeit monies for real francs. Obviously, he has a connection in the casino. He finished eating and placed his tray outside his door and then called for a wake – up at seven PM. Placing his Walther under his pillow, he laid down. Just before he dozed off he thought, I hope Napoleon is not having bad dreams.
Nine o'clock found the Russian at the High Club, one of the hippest, if not, the hippest nightclub in Nice. Casually, but elegantly dressed in a black Yves St Laurent suit, Armani white cotton shirt and Hermes' silk tie, he wended his through the pulsating crowd, smiling and dancing in time to the music, eyes constantly roving the scene as he searched for his prey. He had circled the club twice, stopping here and there to dance with an appreciative female and was just about to give up and move on when he spotted El Saddiq seated at a booth toward the back of the club with friends.
A slow song came on and Illya looked around for a dance partner. He chose a shapely blonde from the small cadre of women trying to catch his eye and began to dance with and engage her in small talk. They turned slowly in a circle as Illya surreptitiously kept El Saddiq under surveillance and waited for an opportunity to present itself so he could approach him.
He and his dance partner moved closer and then he saw his chance; El Saddiq stood and moved to the bar. Illya led his partner to the edge of the dance floor, stepped back to twirl her around and expertly picked the man's pocket. A few seconds later, he let go of his partner quickly and grabbed a man passing by and snarled loudly enough for El Saddiq to hear, "Voleur! J'ai vu ce que vous! Donnez-le en arriere maintenant!" (Thief! I saw what you did! Give it back now!)
When El Saddiq whipped around, he saw Illya holding his wallet in one hand and a shocked looking man in the other. "That is mine! What happened?"
"I was dancing with my friend here when I saw him lift your wallet," Illya said calmly as he handed El Saddiq his wallet. He shrugged and added, "I do not like thieves."
The man shook off his hand and shouted "I stole nothing! How dare you!" He made as if to challenge Illya, but the men who had been sitting with El Saddiq stood and came closer.
El Saddiq warned, "I suggest that you walk away while you still can."
Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, the man slunk away under the glare of all four men. When he saw the "thief" exit the club, El Saddiq looked at Illya and smiled. Extending his hand he said, "My name is Rene' and you are…?"
Illya returned the smile and shook Rene's hand. "I am Marik and this lovely lady is Vivienne."
"Marik, Vivienne, please join me and my friends at our table."
Illya and his 'date' spent the next few hours drinking and getting better acquainted with their new friends. When they tired of the dance club, Illya suggested they head over to Le Staccato on rue du Pont Vieux to listen to jazz. Rene' was all for it, but his friends said they were going to stay. Illya was secretly thrilled when Vivienne also opted to stay in the High Club with her girlfriends. He accepted the piece of paper she gave him with her number on it and kissed her hand when she said goodnight and stepped away from the table.
An hour later found Rene' and Illya eating finger foods at the jazz club and listening to a saxophonist play soothing music. Rene' was quite knowledgeable about jazz and he and Illya were having a rather pleasant conversation about Thelonius Monk. After awhile, Rene' said, "Mon Dieu, it's almost 4AM! I thank you again, Marik, for stopping that dog from stealing my wallet. How long are you going to be in Nice?"
Illya allowed himself a yawn and replied, "I am driving up to Monte Carlo this afternoon to gamble. I thought I might stay the night."
Rene' smiled, "Wonderful! I also plan to go to the casino. Let's meet there; I have quite a few friends who live in Monaco. We can party together. What do you say?"
"I say: Why not?"
"Perfect." He handed Illya a card. "This is where I'll be staying along with the phone number. I plan to be there around five." The two men walked unsteadily from the club to the parking lot. Rene' knocked on the driver's window to wake up his chauffeur. "Are you alright to drive, mon ami? I can drop you at your hotel."
Illya waved his hand and replied, "Merci, no, I am fine. I will call you when I arrive in Monaco. Goodnight, my friend." He watched as El Siddiq's car pulled out of the parking lot and drove away. When the tail lights disappeared, the seemingly mildly drunk young man straightened up and walked quite soberly to his car, got in, started it up and drove back to his hotel.
He was feeling rather successful as he prepared for bed and was looking forward to the second part of his mission. He was especially pleased that he was able to use two Innocents to further his mission without getting them in too deeply. That made him think as he lay down; Napoleon would have probably talked Vivienne into going to the jazz club and then escorted her home to seduce her. I hope he is doing as well as I am.