"God dammit Peril! I almost shot you!" Solo yelled, lowering his gun and letting his other hand ran through his mused hair.
Illya looked at him amused and concerned at the same time.
Solo's tie was loosened and the sleeves of his shirt pulled back.
He must have been drinking, cause he could smell the alcohol in the air.
The American looked exhausted and… worried?
"Couldn't you just knock?" Solo snapped and put the gun on the table.
"Forgot my key! Thought you were already sleeping!" Illya said sheepishly, crossing the room in a few strides and letting himself fall on the armchair.
"Sleeping? Seriously? And you still out there doing who knows what!" Solo barked, crossing his arms and staring down on Peril.
"Were you worried?" Illya teased the American, a small smile forming on his lips.
Napoleon glared at him.
He hardly lost his cockiness and there seemed to be always a joke on his lips, a mockery directed to his partners.
Not today.
These days had even him worn out.
"Have you seen yourself in a mirror lately?" Solo growled, eyeing the Russian suspiciously. Why was he in such good spirits?
"You look like you are gonna jump off the next bridge! You hardly sleep or eat. Your patience is running low and …" Solo cut himself off before the more hurtful words stumble out. Instead he flopped on the sofa opposite of Peril and glowered at the Russian.
"What were you doing anyway?" The American asked suddenly curious. The corner of Illya's mouth twitched.
"I was at morgue!" Solo gaped at him, not sure what to say.
Illya didn't let him as he continued talking.
"It's not Gaby", Illya didn't miss the sudden stiffness in the American's body, "I have prove!" It took Solo a few seconds to register what the Russian had just thrown on the small couch table. Neatly packed into a plastic bag.
"Are those…", Napoleon could only stare at his partner, "why?"
Had Peril gone full crazy now?
Illya took a deep breath before he told his partner about the tracker in Gaby's mouth.
He didn't tell the American the whole story.
Just the important part.
At the end of it Solo stared at the molars on the table.
"You lied to her?"
"It's not important right now!" Illya sulked.
"She's going to kill you if she finds out…" Solo breathed, staring at the teeth in front of him.
"Gaby can kill me if she likes… after we find her!" Illya sighed, tapping his finger on his knee. The American was ruining his mood.
Solo sighed heavily and he felt the blue eyes of the Russian on him.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you Peril, but that means nothing!" He ignored the burning stare the Russian gave him. "Her uncle could simply have known about it… the tracker could have led him to us in Paris… Udo Teller might have told him about it or Rudy himself has told her father to implant the tracker…!" Napoleon looked at his partner saddened.
Before Illya could respond to it, the shril demanding ringing of the telephone interupted the silence.
Solo shot his partner a last look and picked up the phone.
"To whom am I speaking?" He didn't care about the impatient edge of his voice or that it sounded more like a snarl.
"Aah, agent Solo I assume. Why in such a bad mood? It is some time since we heard of eachother" The voice let an ice cold shiver ran down his spine. His whole body stiffened and at the edge of his vision he could see Peril jumping to his feet.
Uncle Rudy didn't wait for him to answer. "I assume the Russian is with you?! I am really disappointed that you as an American haven't shot him yet… but good people are really hard to find these days, aren't they Mr. Solo?" Rudy drawled and Solo felt his heart beat pick up.
"What do you want? Did you call to condolence on our partner's death? Her blood is on your hands!"
His voice was low, but Illya was surprised by the menacing tone in it.
He never had heard his partner speak like that.
Solo was the one never losing his cool.
Always speaking in light tones, no matter how dire the situation was.
Illya was so close he could hear the laugh of Gaby's uncle.
He wanted to reach through the phone and strangle the man.
Kuryakin tried to reach for the phone, but Solo was faster, taking a step back.
He gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Illya tried again.
Motioning his partner to give him the phone, but Solo shook his head.
"I considered you a smart man, Mr. Solo!" Rudy smacked his lips. "But I have to admit she really looked like my niece, didn't she? So tell me… how did the Russian take the news? It's a pity I wasn't there to see for myself" The man sighed heavily and Solo felt the muscle in his jaw ticking.
"Did you watch the film I sent you?"
"No!" His voice was like ice and he could see Peril's finger tapping. The Russian stood so close, he probably heard every word the German man said.
"Why not? It was a present for your Russian friend. I wanted him to see what he did to my poor niece. I had no other choice as to wash her clean. You know between you and me… I never thought my dearest niece would let a commie pig fuck her!" Uncle Rudy spat and Solo's eyes snapped to the Russian going still. Illya's eyes widened, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Solo was just about to deny, because they hadn't even kissed yet.
He should know.
Why would she say something like that?
Solo drew in sharply a breath.
She had done exactly the thing he had begged her not to do.
She must have been very desperate.
Tiredly he closed his eyes.
"What do you want Rudy? I'm certain you haven't called to simply chat. Besides you have nothing we would want!"
It was quiet on the other end.
"All business, I like it! Well I have a certain agent you want!" Illya stepped closer and the two agents were almost touching.
"Agent Teller is in a morgue. Ready to be shipped to London. In a casket!" Solo spat back, ignoring Illya's closeness.
Rudy clicked his tongue. "You are a terrible listener Mr. Solo! The girl you found was just a decoy… to through you off. I rather call it exquisite work. You know I really paid attention to the detail, did I not?" He laughed and it made Solo nearly through up.
"I'm willing to give you my niece for the tall Russian. The architect!" Rudy's voice had changed from lightly to somber and icy.
Solo glanced at Illya, who's stare would have frozen the whole universe.
"I want to talk to her!" Solo demanded his eyes still on the Russian.
Suddenly he heard sobs, sniffles and a whimper through the phone.
It made his heart ache and he watched as his Russian partner turn pale.
"Gaby?" The American asked.
His own voice nearly breaking.
He didn't get an answer back.
He just heard more sniffles, sobs and whimpers.
Then it stopped.
"As I said, I want the Russian architect and you will get my niece!" The icy voice of Gaby's uncle let Solo snap back.
"No! Listen to me", it took everything in him not insult the man, "you won't get anything until I have talked to Gabriella!"
"You just heard her!"
"That could have been a recording for all I've known. I want to be sure she is still alive! That this is not one of your tricks! As you said, you are really good in deceiving us! If I don't get a life sign from her, you won't get your deal!" He growled, ignoring Peril's ashen face.
Solo slammed the phone down.
The room was drenched in an eerie silence.
Illya looked paler than before.
The American agent watched his partner, who seemed to have turned to stone.
