A Man from U.N.C.L.E. Story
by Darklady
Chapter Thirty-Six : Dangling Conversation
Rated: PG
Dedicated: To V & V - friends for lifes.
****
As we step through the unmarked door, Mark pulls two pins out of the announcement board and sticks them in our collars.
"Map pins?" I ask?
"White means a member. Green means a visitor. Gold means an outside member - usually a spouse." I check the board more closely, and observe that all the pins are now blue. An ingenious transfer system, really. "Red means - well, nothing good. Some time we have unvouched-for visitors thrust upon us. Usually university administration. You can talk to red . Just don't say anything."
Demitri Grustov spots us from the bar and comes over. "Gentlemen. Welcome in from the Cold."
"Demitri." Mark holds out his hand. "You've met Illya. This is his partner, Napoleon Solo. I was just going over the code."
"Welcome." Demitri says, shaking hands with Napoleon. "The only forbidden topics are insurance and real estate - you'll soon figure out why. Other then that - use your own discretion. Our members all have very bad memories."
Mark smiles. "More so after a few drinks."
"Cash bar." Demitri slaps his forehead. "That I must warn you about. After three drinks they take your keys, and when you want to go home they call a cab. Or you can try the breathalizer. Berkeley has very strict drunk driving laws. And they hold the bar responsible."
"You agree to that?"
"Comrade Kuryakin." He gives me a patient look. "I arrived in a cab."
I nod. "How's the vodka?"
"Polish and excellent."
Mark steps up to the front of the room and taps his glass for attention. "Ladies and gentlemen. I would like to introduce our two new visitors. Mr. Illya Kuryakin, Russian Navy, KGB,and UN Jurisdiction. Mr. Napoleon Solo - UN Jurisdiction and regular army. Friends of mine. They are considering a move to Berkeley, so I know you will want to make them feel right at home."
*********
No sooner have Mark and Demitri stepped away than a tall man steps up. His bright Hawaiian shirt is florid enough to almost hide the white pin on the collar.
"Bill Valley," he introduces himself. "You interested in this area?"
"Perhaps," Napoleon answers. "Although Mr. Kuryakin here is also looking at Santa Barbara."
Mr. Valley shakes my hand. "Great area , Santa Barbara. Nice climate, good houses. Cheaper than the Bay area." He turns back to Napoleon. "If you're down there, you might want to give a call to a friend of mine at Avian Solutions. He's always looking for people with talent in international, and when he heard you were in the area? He told me his boss said they could envision big operations for you. Here." He pulls a business card from his pocket. "His number."
"You're serious."
"Please, give him a call. I guarantee he'll take you to lunch, and the fish down there is excellent."
"Perhaps I will." Napoleon glances at me. "Illya was thinking of being in the area tomorrow anyway...."
Our new acquaintance takes Napoleon's arm and starts to lead him away. "Let me buy you an drink, and then... there's someone here you really ought to meet."
I smile and let him go.
******
Demitri Grustov walks up and hands me a fresh glass. "You look like a man with questions."
"Why do so many people seem to be so aware of our arrival?"
"Contacts. We *are* spies, you must remember. Even retired, people have friends, who have friends." He scans the room. "I know Thomson checked you out with Kronsteen at Baykonur; who, by the way, has nothing but good to say about you. What did you do? Save the man from a burning whorehouse? And Hans? He's a Berliner. They know everyone."
"Stazi?"
Demitri's voice flattens. "There are no Stazi."
"Of course."
"Fleming tapped into your alma matter." Demitri resumes. "Old school tie and all that."
"Cambridge man?"
"Oxford *and* Cambridge. Ancient languages, but still...."
I nod. I remember the 'class solidarity' of Cambridge...all too well.
"I personally am not always...comfortable with 'Sir' Ian. Still," he shrugs, "the Cambridge Club is very big in some circles. If you were to renew your association....?" He tosses back his glass. "Any path to victory, eh?"
A sudden flurry at the door attracts both our attention.
"They came! Wonderful." Demitri gives me a big smile and tugs on my sleeve. " Come. Here are two people you *must* meet."
He points to a grey haired couple being welcomed enthusiastically at the door. After waiting a bit for the crowd to subside, we make our way over to them by the pool table.
They are...not.... distinctive, but there is an air of authority about them which is... impressive. I scan their collars, but they are wearing no pins at all.
Grustov's posture becomes suddenly formal. "Illya Nickovetch Kuryakin? Permit me to introduce you to Valen and Vasallissa Smith. Two of our founding members."
The man's hand I shake, the lady's I kiss. I do not know why. Instinct, perhaps. She accepts it graciously, as her due. "Russian?" I ask.
"Not really." The lady answers in a flawless Moscow accent.
"Then you are..?"
Grustov snorts. "There are rumors, but with these two? We still don't ask."
"So, Mr. Kuryakin?" the man asks in equally flawless Russian. "Are you interested in work, or just a job?"
"I believe I have decided to go back to school. A teaching post is starting to appear....very attractive."
****
"Illya." Napasha catches up with me at the edge of the crowd. He has two ladies with him, but they vanish like the professionals they are.
"Napoleon?" I raise my glass. "Busy night?"
"I haven't received this many mash notes since freshman rush week."
"I know." Finishing my vodka and setting the glass back on the counter. " Everyone has a friend who wants to buy us lunch."
"And dinner," Napasha agrees. " And drinks."
I shrug. "That is one way to cut down on the grocery bill."
END CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX