When Illya awoke the next morning, he couldn't hear rainfall, but every few minutes there was a rumble of thunder off in the distance. He quickly performed his ablutions, got dressed and headed downstairs. Toby and Johnny were standing on the front porch looking in the direction of the storm, sipping coffee.
"Good morning," Illya said as he came through the screen door. "What do you think, Toby? Are we heading out?"
"I dunno, Nigel. Me and Johnny both come downstairs early to listen to the weather and according to three different radio stations, we got lines of thunderstorms passing through all day. I'm hopin' they're wrong, but it looks like today may be a washout."
Johnny spat out the last swig of his coffee. "I hate when the grounds get in my cup," he snarled, "C'mon guys, let's git breakfast. We'll all have a better idea of what we doin' in a bit; don't make no sense standing here."
They were the first ones in the dining room. Al himself stepped out the kitchen carrying a tray loaded down with several platters of scrambled eggs, waffles, bacon and boudin. "Whoever's ready for seconds first, come in the kitchen and get it for everybody."
Tommy walked into the dining room on the tail end of Al's instructions. "Joey ain't up yet? Ain't like her to sleep in during gator season," he observed.
Al turned around and came back to the table. Conspiratorially he whispered, "Y'all know Joey ain't been up to snuff. Lately, when the air is real hot and humid, like today, it's hard for her to keep her breath. Angel already been down here to get tea for her."
All the men nodded their understanding. There was nothing they could do about it, so they continued to eat. Another roll of thunder sounded.
Toby sighed, "That was much closer than the last one I heard. Damn, I might as well finish eating and go back to bed for a couple more hours."
Illya was thinking that perhaps some of his partner's famous luck had fallen his way. "I will do the same. If it is still storming, I think I will go into New Orleans so I can call my editors. I can dictate from my notes to one of the secretaries and get my story started."
The men finished eating and headed back to their rooms. Illya stepped into his bathroom, turned on the sink faucet and then sat on the tub and called Mr. Waverly.
"Yes, Mr. Kuryakin? I'm surprised to hear from you at this time of day; I would have thought you would be heading to work by now."
"Fortunately for me, Sir, there are several lines of thunderstorms moving through the area which preclude the hunters' ability to be on the water. Sir, I have reason to believe that Francois Hebert is the reason the alligators in this area have become extremely aggressive. I think the delivery system he is using is the bait the hunters use to attract them. I am taking advantage of the weather to drive to the New Orleans Field Office with a sample for testing."
"Excellent, Mr. Kuryakin! I will call the Senior Agent of that office and alert him to your arrival. It's a much smaller facility than here so there is no lab. However, he has several contacts at Tulane University he uses when he needs something to be analyzed."
"Then the sooner I get this sample to him, the better. Could you please let him know that I will be there no later than nine - thirty?"
"Consider it done. Good luck to you, Mr. Kuryakin."
Illya heard the click that let him know Mr. Waverly has closed the channel. He exited the bathroom and checked the room clock. Five – thirty; I'll set the alarm for seven – thirty.
Seven forty – five found him back inside the dining room drinking another cup of coffee while standing looking out the window. It was still raining steadily, but there was no thunder directly overhead. Toby still hadn't come downstairs, but Johnny and Tommy had assured him that only a fool would go out with lightening in the area and as Tommy put it, "Ain't no fools in this house."
"Nope," Johnny had said, "This gonna be a day of preppin' for tomorrow. I'ma put on my galoshes and rubber gloves, take the cover off my boat and use the rainwater to clean it."
"That is a creative way to do it," Illya said. "I better get going, please let Toby know that I should be back around lunchtime."
He had placed the thermos of bloody bait in the trunk and was just getting into his car when Angelique ran out of the house. "Nigel! Wait!" She ran to the driver's side window and when he rolled it down she said, "My Mama is having a terrible time in this humidity. Is it alright if I take your fan to put in her room for awhile? I already have the guys' fans. Do you mind?"
"No, not at all."
"Good. One other thing: I heard you're going into New Orleans. I want to go with you so I can buy a dehumidifier for Mama."
"I am not sure that is a good idea, Angel."
Though there was no one else around them, she glanced about and leaned in closer to say softly, "Illya, I promised you I will not interfere with your mission and I promise you I only want to go to Alcide Hardware to buy a dehumidifier. You can drop me off and I'll wait there until you come to get me."
He stared at her for a moment before handing over his room key. "Do not make me regret this, Angelique. Go put my fan in your mother's room. I will wait."
"Thank you!" she said before turning around and bounding into the house.
He watched her go and wondered what Napoleon would think if he could see the two of them. The Angelique Napoleon knew seemed to be gone. Gone were the perfectly coiffed platinum hair, the flawlessly applied makeup and the fresh manicure featuring bright red polish on long exquisite fingernails. Expensive designer wear had been replaced by dungarees, tee shirts, denim jackets and work boots. The sophisticated, multilingual THRUSH super spy had transformed into a younger looking, fresh faced, country Cajun girl with medium brown hair snatched back into a ponytail who wore no makeup and had dirt under her nails at the end of the day. Maybe this is the girl Napoleon saw when they made love, he thought.
Ten minutes later, the two former adversaries were bumping down the road on their way to New Orleans. Illya had the radio of his car turned low so that he could concentrate; another storm was passing through and the AM radio crackled with static and the booms of thunder caused them both to jump. The windshield wipers were going at top speed and barely keeping up with the rain sheeting down the glass.
"We're almost at the point where the pavement starts," she observed as she squinted to see. "Maybe another ten minutes at this speed."
Illya nodded tightly. The combination of low visibility, wind and thunder, plus having Angelique in the car was causing him a good deal of stress. He was hoping he would not have to stop to wait for the rain to subside. Even though it was mid – morning, it was dark enough under the clouds and trees for him to have his high beams lit.
Finally, he could see the reflection of paved road in front of him and relief flooded him when he felt the tires climb onto it. Next to him Angelique breathed a loud sigh of relief. "Merci, mon Dieu, I was scared one of those trees would collapse on us! We should be fine from here."
Now that he was no longer feeling his way along a muddy road, he felt relaxed enough to speak. "Are the alligators in your mother's farm still acting overly aggressive?"
"No. Mama told me the other day that Lou, their keeper, said they've calmed down considerably and are basically back to normal. Why do you ask?"
"I have a theory. What do your mother's alligators eat?"
"Oh, lots of things. They mainly get chicken and fish; occasionally, a muskrat or snake will get into their enclosure and they'll eat it."
"Does Joey get their food from Hebert?"
"No, but…" Angelique trailed off as a thought occurred to her. "Not usually, but about four to six weeks ago, Lou came to work with a lot of gar, turtle and muskrat carcasses. He said a friend of his had some friends come down from up North to hunt and fish, but they only ate the catfish and deer, so the friend kept some for himself and gave the rest to Lou for the gators. Now that I'm thinking about it, it was around that time that their behavior changed. You think Lou's friend is Hebert and he did something to the carcasses?"
"I do. Are they still eating that food?"
"They ate the last of it right before you showed up."
"And now they are calm again."
"Yes." Both lapsed back into silence as Illya reached the city limits. "Alcide's is in the Bywater neighborhood, on North Rampart Street," Angelique said. After several minutes, Illya pulled up in front of the hardware store. As she got out she said, "When you come back, you can park in the lot behind the store. If I am not in there, I will be across the street at that café."
The Russian looked where she had pointed, said "I will see you in approximately two hours" and then drove away. He drove to Carrollton, parked on Cherokee Street and then walked over to Adams and Pearl Streets where the UNCLE New Orleans Field Office, fronted by a shoe repair shop, was located. He stepped in, flashed his UNCLE ID discreetly to the Section III manning the machinery that ground heels and shined leather and walked through the door marked "Employees Only."
The receptionist smiled as she handed him a "Visitor's" badge. "Hello, Mr. Kuryakin," she said, "Agent Jackson is expecting you. I'll take you there straightaway."
He followed the woman down the hall as he noted that every UNCLE office he had ever been in, no matter how small, had the same looking hallways. She knocked twice on a door before opening it and stepping aside to allow Illya to pass. "Agent Jackson, Mr. Kuryakin is here" and with that, she stepped out and shut the door behind her.
Agent Charles Jackson stood and walked around his desk to shake Illya's hand. He was a tall, chocolate brown – skin man who stood six feet two inches tall and sported a crew cut. "Welcome to New Orleans, Agent Kuryakin! I understand you have something you want analyzed for content?"
Illya handed over the paper bag he had tucked under his shirt to protect it from the rain. "Yes. I believe there is something in that ghastly concoction of alligator bait that is driving them to become even more dangerously aggressive than usual. I understand you have someone at Tulane University who can get the job done?"
"I sure do. I've already let them know to expect this and put a rush on it. Have a seat while I get this messengered over and find out what's what. I'll be right back," Jackson said as he walked out. "There's coffee there if you want any."
He poured himself a cup, took a sip and grimaced. This is not half as good as Al's coffee. I am going to miss that food when I leave this place!
He opened his communicator and called Mr. Waverly. "I just handed the sample to Agent Jackson who is having it sent to Tulane as we speak."
"Excellent! I'll be awaiting a report on the findings."
"Yes, Sir. Sir, if I may: How is Na, uh Mr. Solo doing with his portion of the mission?"
"Quite well; in fact, I can tell you that Mr. Hebert's money supply should be drying up shortly so I expect you to be finishing up soon, as well."
"Yes, Sir."
"Good luck, Mr. Kuryakin." A click told him the communication had ended.
Agent Jackson returned a few moments later. "My guy says he's confident he'll be able to complete the analysis no later than four today."
"Perfect. Whenever he calls, please contact Mr. Waverly with the results. I will call you sometime after four. I have to get back; thank you so much for your assistance."
"My pleasure. The next time you're in this neck of the woods, we'll have to go to the French Quarter. The food there is fantastic."
Illya was walked out and made it back to his car just as the skies opened up again. It was so steamy inside, he cracked his window slightly and braved the rain getting in to get some air. As luck would have it, when he got back by Alcide's Hardware, there was a parking space directly across from it. He made a quick U turn, parked and checked his watch. It was going on eleven, so he decided to check for Angelique in the café first.
Sure enough, as soon as he walked in he saw her seated exactly where he would have chosen: a table away from the windows that afforded a view of the entire room, front and kitchen entrances while she sat with her back against the wall. To her left at her feet sat a large box wrapped in twine with a handle through it.
She watched him approach as she drank from her cup. She had two beignets on a plate in front of her. "Sit," she said, "I will be finished eating in a few minutes. Besides, I am hoping this storm passes quickly. Maybe we will be back in Houma before another one comes." She slid over to give him room on the bench. "I assume you will be more comfortable sitting here."
Illya was a little surprised she did that, but only replied, "Thank you," before taking the seat. A waiter appeared from the back to take his order.
"I suggest the chicory coffee, Nigel. It's quite good."
Illya ordered that plus a boudin to tide him over until they got back to the boarding house. His food and coffee arrived and the waiter returned to the kitchen. Perhaps because of the weather, they were the only two customers.
Angelique chewed her food and drank her coffee slowly. When she finished, she said without preamble, "So. Hebert's plot involves the alligators. Somehow, he has managed to put something in the bait to make them crazy. You don't have to confirm, but I am fairly certain the reason you drove here was to get a sample of the bait tested." She pulled her wallet from her purse and put enough money on the table to cover both tabs. "Leave a tip," she said when he opened his mouth to protest.
Illya dropped some bills next to hers and stood up. He reached down and grabbed the handle of the box and led the way to the car. The rain hadn't stopped, but it had slacked off a bit, though darker clouds could still be seen in the distance.
After they had been driving to Houma for about twenty minutes, Angelique said, "I'm in."
Illya chanced a quick look at her. "What do you mean 'I'm in'?"
"If Hebert is the 'friend' who gave Lou those carcasses and if those carcasses contained something to alter my mother's gators' behavior, he endangered my mother and her workers. If he has added that same something to the bait, he is endangering the lives and livelihoods of all of the hunters, including you and me. He's a Cajun and that means he has betrayed all of us by throwing in with THRUSH. I can't stand by while he does that, so I'm in. I will do what I have to do to protect my people, even if that means working side by side with you."
