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"Our Woman In Tokyo"
An Avengers Fanfiction
The eighth in a series of adventures designed to bridge the year and a half between broadcast episode 3.26, "Lobster Quadrille" (Cathy Gale, March 1964), and episode 4.01, "The Town Of No Return" (Emma Peel, September 1965)
Disclaimer: Some copyrighted characters have been borrowed
Steed goes the distance. Emma rises in the East.
October 1964
Ozero Krugloye Training Facility, Moscow
Billows of steam filled the concrete shower area and condensed onto the cool tile walls, forming abstract patterns of droplets. A woman was relaxing under the hot water after a hard hour of swimming. She had the lithe body of an athlete, and her short blond hair was plastered to her neck as she rinsed off any traces of chlorine. Her swimsuit hung casually on a hook by the door.
The biggest race of her life was coming up in less than a week. If she could do well, it would mean more freedom for her—worldwide travel, a better apartment, even more money. A few nighttime practices weren't too much of an investment, considering all that was at stake. She basked under the warm stream of the shower, not wanting to get dressed and go back out into the cold Moscow night.
Suddenly, she heard a sharp noise echoing through the empty gymnasium. Her hand went instinctively to the faucet handle and shut off the water. Rivulets ran down her back and quietly dripped to the floor as she strained to hear what had caused the disturbance. The voices of several men came to her from the large space surrounding the pool. The sound of their footsteps grew louder as they approached the end of the building that contained the women's locker room.
Marina barely had time to sprint behind a cinderblock partition before the men came to a stop right outside the shower area. The blocks in the wall were offset to provide ventilation, and the gaps between were just large enough for her to spy on the intruders. She squatted as close to the edge as possible in order to better overhear their conversation. Her gaze wandered over to her swimsuit by the door; there was no way she could retrieve it now without being spotted. Even though no one could see her in her hiding place, she still tucked her hands between her thighs to hide her nakedness.
A well-dressed man with dark hair and a bowler appeared to be the leader. At first she took him for an Englishman; but she quickly realized he was speaking perfect Russian to the other men, idly conversing about the chances of an early snow this year.
A sudden stab of panic went through Marina as the man turned and looked in her direction. His eyes were ice-blue and empty, staring directly at the wall she was hiding behind. Marina remained absolutely motionless, praying that the water dripping from her body wouldn't be audible from twenty feet away.
The man with ice-blue eyes continued his scan of the empty facility, then nodded as if he approved of the meeting place.
"This seems suitable," he said. "We can talk here."
A swarthy man with a drooping moustache answered him. "My name is Vasily. I was sent by Gogol."
"KGB?"
"Yes," Vasily answered. "These other men work for me. They enforce my will, whatever it should be."
The man with ice-blue eyes nodded, and a mysterious grin touched the corners of his mouth as he spoke. "You can call me The Ladja."
"The Rook?" Vasily asked. "You are a chess-player, perhaps?"
"Only if I get to play both sides of the board," The Ladja said with a malevolent smile. Vasily smiled back.
"Then you are the double agent that I have heard much about. Is your information reliable?"
The Ladja became serious. "I had access to top level information at the British Ministry for Defence," he answered.
"And you believe this assassination can succeed?"
"The United States will have only two CIA agents there," The Ladja responded. "The British Secret Service is not planning to send anyone. It is a golden opportunity. Let me tell you exactly how it will work..."
Marina shuddered as she listened to the plan. After she had heard it, she knew that in spite of his suave outward appearance and careful manners, The Ladja was a man capable of great evil. Marina slowly started to back away from the wall. She had heard all she needed. If these men caught her here, they would kill her. They were that type of men, killers.
Even as she realized her life depended on her ability to make a stealthy withdrawal, her heel made contact with a metal bin containing used towels. It tipped over onto the floor with a resounding crash.
The Ladja's eyes flashed as he turned at the noise. "Who's there?" he shouted gruffly.
Marina's animal instincts took over. Flight was her only option now. She sprinted out of the shower room, her bare feet slapping against the concrete floor. The men were taken aback for a second at the sight of the slender blonde running directly past them, completely nude. She was only a few feet from the door by the time they reacted to give chase.
The door in front of Marina opened, and a young guard stepped into her path. Her momentum took her directly into his arms, which he proceeded to wrap around her like bands of steel. The guard smiled with pleasure at the sight of the beautiful naked woman that had fallen into his grasp.
His delight turned to dismay when she drove her well-muscled thigh deep into his groin. The guard felt a stunning pain shoot up towards the pit of his stomach, and he suddenly lost all interest in trying to detain the woman. Marina easily shrugged free of his grip as she ran frantically into the street outside.
A chilly drizzle was falling as she sprinted back towards the women's dormitory. She knew that once she reached it, she would gain anonymity among all the other blonde athletes there. She hardly felt the freezing water as it pelted her nude body; terror had taken over.
Marina took the extra time to run around to the rear of the building, hoping that any pursuit would assume she had used the front door. She didn't pause until she had crept into her bunk in the communal sleeping area. As she lay on her back on the flimsy mattress, she remembered in a panic that her hair was still soaking wet; she would be discovered when the men burst into the building with their search. But no one entered; the young swimmer had made good her escape. A few minutes later, after she managed to brush aside the fear, Marina suddenly realized she had just been handed her ticket to freedom.
-oOo-
"We've been in contact with an Eastern Bloc athlete," Charles began. "She wants to defect to the West."
Steed placed his bowler and umbrella in their usual spot on the edge of the Head of Operations' desk. "She?" he asked.
"A Russian swimmer, Marina Irinova. She has information about a Communist plot. An assassination, apparently." Charles lit up a cigar before continuing his explanation.
"Like most Russian athletes, she is seldom abroad, and constantly watched whenever she is," he said. "But she'll be out of Russia this month."
Steed started to show interest. "For what?"
Charles rolled his eyes. "The Summer Olympic Games in Tokyo, on October 10th. Do you pay any attention to the world around you, Steed?"
"I've been busier than usual this summer—government traitors, art thieves, kidnappers, black magicians, gun runners—"
"I've arranged a spot for you on the fencing team," Charles announced.
"That must have taken some doing."
"Not really. The coach apparently heard some tale about that incident in Madrid where you fought off a rapier in Florentine-style combat using nothing but a Spanish swordstick and a three-cornered hat. He wants to meet you."
Steed smiled at the memory. "How is this defection supposed to be accomplished?" he asked.
"They're guarding Miss Irinova every minute," Charles said. "However, there is one time when they're not allowed to be next to her. That's when she's actually competing in an event."
"I'm a dab hand at undercover work," Steed grinned. "Still, I don't think I can pass as a woman."
"That's why you have to recruit one of the female Olympians to help you."
"Did you have someone in mind?"
Charles smiled. "Emma Peel is on the Women's Fencing Team."
Steed was silent for several seconds.
"Has anyone approached her?" he asked.
Charles was still smiling. "Of course not. That's what you're for."
Steed felt a little guilty. He was still keeping the fact of Squadron Leader Peter Peel's Ministry connection from his wife. The Official Secrets Act was on his side, but it didn't make him feel any better about it.
"Wouldn't it be more effective to use one of our female agents?" Steed asked. "Why get Mrs. Peel involved? Or me, for that matter?"
"Miss Irinova asked for you specifically," Charles answered. "Apparently you've helped some of her friends defect in the past. And this would be a perfect assignment for you to test out Mrs. Peel."
Steed had to admit he looked forward to meeting the auburn-haired beauty from the Amazon again. "How will we be able to contact Miss Irinova?" he asked.
"I've arranged for you to have unlimited access to view and even participate in all events," Charles explained. "But it's vitally important that you don't do anything to draw attention to yourself. We don't want people to start looking into your background and how you came to be at the Olympics."
"You mean—" Steed began.
Charles leaned back in his chair.
"That's right Steed. For heaven's sake, make sure you don't win any medals."
-oOo-