After the fiasco in Harrison, the Traitor's trail went cold. Napoleon blamed himself when Mr. Waverly began to berate him for their failure to capture their prey. He was astonished when Illya snatched the communicator from his hand to inform their superior about the woman and infant the Traitor had thrown into deep water.
"It was either save them or pursue the Traitor," Illya stated defiantly, "The mother had lost her grip on her child so both of us were necessary to go into the water." Cheekily he added, "Would you have preferred we let them drown?"
"Watch your tone with me, Mr. Kuryakin," Waverly admonished. "However, you raise a point your partner did not. In that case, Mr. Solo, I understand why you don't yet have him. Regroup and find him. Do not contact me again until you do. Waverly out."
Napoleon placed his communicator in his suit jacket's inside pocket and turned to face his partner. "Partner Mine, you have no idea what it means to me that you stood up for me, but I'm giving you a direct order: Do not get in between Mr. Waverly and me again."
"I will obey if you tell me you will not fall on your sword in the future. I do not understand why you would not tell him why we failed."
"Because in the big picture, it doesn't matter. Failure is failure regardless of the reasons why and as CEA, ultimately it's my responsibility."
The Russian just shook his head and settled on his bed. They had checked into the Cloghuan Bed and Breakfast on Mackinac Island that afternoon so that they could rest and think about their next move. They were pleasantly surprised to see how many restaurants were available. They had made a reservation for dinner at The Cudahy Chop House before lying down for a much-needed nap. Both men had been very hungry so Napoleon had eaten a Nicoise Salad and the pork chop while Illya ordered the Cudahy Salad, seared duck breast and the lobster bisque for his appetizers and the rack of lamb for his entrée. They each had crème brulee for dessert.
They had ordered bottles of scotch and vodka for their room and were enjoying after dinner drinks after their walk back from the restaurant. Napoleon was swirling the liquid in his glass, lips pursed in concentration. Illya had kept his counsel for as long as he could, until he finally said, "What is on your mind, moy droog?"
"I was going over the conversation I had with the Traitor's cousin in the Arthur Avenue Italian market. I seem to remember her mentioning something about his road trip. I need to look at a map."
He pulled out the Atlas maps he and Illya had accumulated while driving since the start of this affair. "Yes!" he said after unfolding and studying his third map. "She had said something about Iron Bridge, Ontario!" He rubbed his forehead as he tried to remember. "Yes, yes, she mentioned a family property just outside of Iron Bridge! Perhaps, he went there!"
"Do you want to go now?"
Napoleon shook his head. "No. He thinks we've lost him. We'll rest tonight and head that way tomorrow. It's a very small town and not a tourist attraction; we will be noticed as soon as we show up. Let's get a good night's rest and start fresh in the morning."
"I am so glad you said that," Illya said as he quickly undressed and got under his covers. "See you in the morning. Turn out the light."
