I am so sorry that I have not written in so very long. Life just happens. I hope you enjoy
The waiter continued to struggle under Irina's control. "Signore. Per favore. La signorina e pazzo." Irina glanced up at Solo who was still staring at the tableau. She wrenched the arm harder to maintain control.
"Please," her voice was tense with her efforts. "Search him for a gun. You'll see."
Solo was not sure, but Irina seemed so certain; he had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts and the instincts of other agents. He bent down and began to frisk the struggling man. He found nothing until he was patting down the left leg. "What have we here," he queried, rolling up the man's pant leg and pulling a Makarov pistol from an ankle holster. "Well...Well." He checked the gun and realizing that it was loaded, took the safety off and pointed it at the man on the ground. "I suggest that you stop struggling and stand up very slowly," Solo growled.
Irina let go of the man and stepped back, but not before shooting a smug look at Solo.
The two agents got the man to a chair and Irina used several belts to restrain him.
"How did you know," Solo asked, impressed.
"His accent," Irina said without a pause.
"Accent? I did not hear an accent," Solo said.
"Exactly. You can always tell KGB training. They teach the perfect language skills, but usually can't do regional accents." Solo looked at Irina whose English sounded so normally middle American.
"I spent a lot of time watching American movies so that I actually had an accent." Solo nodded. He was impressed. He looked at Irina again. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair, wild. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly from the exertion and excitement. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright with excitement and energy. To Solo, at that moment, she was simply the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen. Fighting the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her, Solo forced himself to return to business
"Who are you?" He asked the still struggling man.
"I can tell you," Kuryakin's familiar voice boomed from the door as he entered, followed by Gaby. Kuryakin walked to where the man was sitting and carefully looked him over. "Vasiley? What have they sent you to fetch this time?"
Seeing the blank looks on the faces around him, Kuryakin explained. "This is Vasiley Karkoff. He fancies himself an agent. But all he is a flunky sent on errands by those better than him." The other man started to protest, but a cold stare from Kuryakin silenced him.
A smirk spread across his lips. "I am here for her," he said nodding toward Irina. "They want to see her."
He did not have to explain who "they" were. Irina, wide eyed and clearly shaken began to back up away from the man. She was shaking her head, "No. No. I won't go." Unwittingly, she backed right into Solo who put an arm around her shaking shoulders.
"Peril," Solo asked, "Is this really necessary?"
"Yes, Mr. Solo, I am afraid that it is.," this time it was the cultured British voice of Weatherly. "I am afraid that Miss Kuryakin must go and speak to the Agent in Charge at the Russian Consulate".
"Why?" Irina did not know the man, but she recognized authority when she saw it. "
The Englishman looked her up and down, then put out his hand. "Miss Kuryakin. I am Alexander Waverly. I am in charge of this little organization," he indicated the three agents in the room. "You have to go, because both us and the Russians need something that you may have." When he saw her confused expression, Waverly continued. "I am sure that you have surmised by now that Sergei Ashenko has gone rogue. He and a small group of like-minded fanatics are looking to start World War Three."
"But why?" Irina pressed. "After everything that Russia suffered during the War, why inflict it again on the people?"
Kuryakin spoke up. "Because Ashenko believes that in this new war, Russia would be victorious over the Allies and the United States and would be in a stronger position as a world power." Waverly nodded his ascent.
"That's insane," Gaby cried.
"The man is clearly crazy," Waverly agreed. "That is what's worrying. We have no idea what he would do. That is where you come in. You may know something that would help us."
Irina felt like all that she wanted to do was to shrink into herself and disappear. Unconsciously she pressed herself tighter against Solo, who continued to hold her. "They will send me back," she whispered.
"No!" The exclamation came simultaneously from both Kuryakin and Solo.
"I will go with you," Kuryakin said, looking at Irina, but speaking to Solo. "They will do nothing, other than speak to you."
Irina felt the arm around her relax, even as she felt some of the tension leave her own body. "Ok," she said resignedly. "I will go wash and change."
"Miss Kuryakin," Waverly spoke, a slight smile on his face. "You may also wish to pack. Another quizzical look. "Now that you are well, it only makes sense that you have your own suite...it will be across the hall from Mr. Kuryakin's and Miss Teller's."
For some reason that she could not quite fathom at the moment, the idea of her own suite made her very happy, but she had so many other things on her mind, that Irina just nodded and left.
"Kuryakin released Karkoff from his bindings, but held him fast with one arm behind the back. "We will wait outside," he said and pushed the slightly struggling man toward the door.
"I will get ready too," said Solo.
"No." Kuryakin demurred. "You stay and rest. You cannot come to the Consulate. Solo looked like he wanted to argue, but truth be told, everything that had transpired in the last hour had already left him exhausted. He was already beginning to think that there were better things that he could do while Ilya and Irina were away. He nodded. He had some planning to do.
I am sorry that this is a bit shorter than some of the other chapters. It is a little transitional and I needed it to move the story along. Still, hopefully, you learned some more interesting things about everybody. Please let me know what you think and thank you for your time in reading and reviewing.