p"It occurs to me, Peril, that we haven't really discussed how you feel about this arrangement of ours."
The Russian lifted his head, to look across the darkened room at him. It turned out, as it was, that the safehouse was a top floor apartment in a brightly blue painted brick building overlooking the river. There were several easy exit strategies and the location was desirable. A well thought out purchase, if Solo had to admit. He'd stayed in worse places and it reminded him of the apartment the CIA had used in West Germany after he'd extracted Gaby. Not chic, as she could say. But safe. Which was the purpose.
They'd had no trouble getting inside. The street had been mostly clear, a group of staggering young men had been heading up the street, celebrating something by the looks of it. The only car parked on the street looked as though it had been there for a while. He wondered if it wasn't Dawson's, but thought British Intelligence would have reclaimed it if it had been. Theirs was parked a couple of streets over.
"This is a good time for discussion?" Illya says back to him and Solo smirks a bit. He'd thought so. And even if Illya did think it wasn't a good time to talk, he could recognize a distraction technique when he saw one. They'd not spoken openly about this new assignment. About still having to work together. They'd said their mutual goodbye and even if Solo had been thinking that yes, he had respect for the other man, he'd still been ready to say goodbye. Ready to return to business as usual.
It hadn't worked out that way and he was still deciding how he felt about that.
"Why not?" Solo asked, amused, but his eyes were scanning the safehouse. Waverly had warned them that it could be under surveillance. Could be being watched and they still didn't know who was going to be on the opposite end of those eyes. Kotil or someone entirely different. "It seems as good a time as any. No time constraint, we could even stop for a glass of-.."
"It is only a mission," Illya cut him off and Solo tipped his head back, eyes returning to the man. It was said with too much force. Brushing off any emotional attachment as he'd seen him do before. When he'd called him on the possibility of going soft. For Gaby. The Red Peril didn't do emotions. At least in words. But it had become fairly obvious to Solo that of all of them, Illya was the most emotionally expressive of the bunch.
"Of course," Solo said, smirking a little bit, but he continued to scan the safehouse, stopping at a table to look through the papers scattered across it. Nothing of interest that he could find. Magazines, a newspaper from last week. Staying up on the times, Dawson was.
It surprised him when Illya continued talking. "What about you, cowboy? What happen to you work better alone?"
Solo smirked. While he could share his own feelings a bit easier than his new Russian friend, he was in no hurry to do so. Especially after Illya's meeting with the KGB earlier today. There wasn't a guarantee that one day, Illya wouldn't choose his agency over Solo, Gaby, Waverly. Just because he'd proven otherwise once, didn't mean that it would always be so. He didn't fully known the man's reasoning behind it still.
Instead of answering, he pointed at a painting on the wall. "Does that painting look out of place to you?"
Illya frowned, turning to look at it, but then tipped his head to the side curiously. He stepped forward, leaning to look behind the painting before he gripped it on both sides and pulled it away from the wall. Sure enough, behind the painting was a small wall safe. Solo came up to stand next to him, a smug smile on his face. Illya just stared at it. They'd been in this situation before and Solo turning to look at Illya, his head tipped back with a knowing look on his face.
It only took a side glance from Illya before the man gave a "Pssh," and stepped aside, showing that, once again, he would let Solo be his guest and try to crack the safe. It was a lot smaller than the last one. Not even a real challenge for Solo. It didn't even require the tools that he'd brought with him, either. This was safe cracking 101 and he was going to have to speak to Waverly to make sure that if they were going to use a safehouse like this in the future, they'd need something a little more sophisticated.
Leaning his ear against the safe, he began turning the dial, listening for the telltale clicks when it had found the right spot.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Illya looking around. It was nearly a distraction and he almost told him to go check a different room while they waited, but he forced that away. It was true, that he used to consider working alone to be the better way to go about things. But the scope of what they'd accomplished in Rome. Of what they'd done with the Vinciguerra affair. Maybe there was something to this partnership thing.
The thought was almost serendipitously interrupted by Illya suddenly jerking towards him, colliding with him with such force that Solo was caught completely off guard and the two of them fell backwards with a heavy thud to the floor. The breath escaped Solo's lungs and he didn't have time to question why the hell the Red Peril was tackling him when he realized there was a new ding in the safe above them. The sound of falling, shattering glass pieces coming from the window on the opposite side of the room.
Someone had taken a shot at them.
"A sniper," Illya explained. Solo frowned. Illya had spotted and was able to dodge a sniper? He remembered how quickly he'd dodged an almost point blank shot that first time they'd come across each other in Berlin. It hadn't been so then, but now he was reminded to be thankful the man was on his side for the time being.
"A warning, next time, Peril. If you would," Solo complained, but mostly to get his wits about him again. He tried to spy the window, but another shot was ricocheted off the desk they were hiding behind.
"Warning would have been the bullet," Illya barked back at him.
Solo made a face, but his eyes went back to that safe. They hadn't started shooting until they'd been ready to crack it. Which meant whatever was inside…
"You're good at distractions," Solo told Illya, who gave him a frown. "Do you think you could distract our sniper friend while I retrieve whatever it is they're trying to protect in there?"
A low growl escaped Illya's throat but Solo recognized it for what it was. Growing pains between partners. A plan that they didn't both agree on, but could at least both agree was worthwhile. Illya lifted his head slightly, only to have another bullet graze too close to his head. Solo felt a twinge of concern at that, but Illya nodded, turning as he stayed crouch, back to Solo, ready to make a dash for the other room. "Next time, you will be distraction," he grumbled and then lifted his head slightly, drawing another bullet before he took off running. Another bullet at his heels, but he was already disappeared behind a wall.
"We all have our gifts, Peril!" Solo called. "Don't play nice, now!"
The Russian was out of sight and Solo sat perfect still, listening and waiting for his opportunity. He had no idea what the man intended to do, could almost hear his voice telling him to watch him work, but pushed that aside, knowing the last time the man had said it to him, he'd almost drowned.
A commotion outside and Solo chanced lifting his head slightly. It was enough to see a large, shadowed figure leap across the roof of their building and onto the next. Immediately, a scuffle broke out. Solo took the opportunity he'd asked for. "Don't let him shoot me," he said under his breath, sidling up to the safe again and pressing his ear against it. This time, he listened carefully, but his eyes kept roaming to the roof top across the way, watching for any signs that the KGB agent was having a difficult time.
The scuffle still waged and Solo heard the final click of the safe before he stood back and pulled it open. His hear almost sank when on first look, it was empty. But his head tipped to the side and a small, "Hmm," escaped his throat as he reached in, pulling out only a small business card. A bird with its wings expanded, a crest on top of its head. No name or word beneath it. He flipped it over and a new level of curiosity piqued in him. The name "Alexander Waverly" was scrawled in penmanship across the back. "Now this is curious," he said to himself before stuffing it into his pocket and closing the safe.
They'd spent enough time here. He went to the window, looking out of it, just in time to see a figure fall off the edge. His eyes widened, leaning to try and see if it was a tall blonde Russian or… The fear was unfounded, Illya came to the edge of the roof on the other building as soon as it was over. He was breathing heavy, but his eyes were on the body of a man he'd just thrown over the edge. One that wouldn't be getting back up.
Solo tapped on the window and drew Illya's attention. He motioned with his hand that it was time to go.
They met outside, walking pass the narrow alley between the buildings were a body still lay. There were sounds of sirens in the air and they both deemed it not wise to stick around and see if they could find anything on the mystery man. Best get to the car.
"What was in the safe?" Illya asked.
"Well, we didn't get Waverly any answers," Solo said, pulling the card out and showing it to Illya. Illya's face steeled, turning it over and frowning at the name. "But we did find some more questions."
"I do not know this symbol," Illya said, shaking his head.
"Nor do I. Perhaps our contacts-…"
Whatever plan they'd been coming up with never escaped Solo's mouth. From ahead of them, a loud explosion nearly knocked them off their feet. Both staggered backwards, hands thrown up to dampen the immediate glow of a fire burning. Solo's eyes were wide, as were Illya's as they saw what had just burst into flames.
"They blew…our car," Solo proclaimed.