On the second day onboard the SS Rotterdam, four UNCLE agents were going about the business of enjoying a few days of leisure, with the occasional glimpse past normal looking passengers to the semi-covert movements of the other spies at sea.
The suggestion that Illya could assume the role of someone recuperating from an accident was entered into with enthusiasm and an unparalleled attitude of complete laziness. He willingly allowed stewards to bring him food and drinks while taking in the sun as he slept poolside. April was at his side in the double chaise, still intent on keeping the appearance of a happy couple sailing to Bali for nothing more than romance.
Napoleon had occasion to linger at the pool as well, entertaining a curvaceous blonde whose daring bikini was more engaging than her conversation. Mark continued to play the part of a ship's steward, listening and watching for anything that might indicate THRUSH was also onboard.
As the ship drew nearer to Bali, there were announcements of tours and lists of popular destinations for those interested in art or cultural performances, such as the Legong Kraton, the dance of the royal palace. Featuring young girls meticulously trained for the role, it was the most well known of Bali's exotic dances, documented by the myriad photographs that would find their way into travel journals around the world.
Most of the travelers onboard the glamorous ship would continue to more ports of call, but for the UNCLE agents and their CIA and MI6 counterparts, Bali was the only port of interest. With bags packed and a considerable arsenal between them, the artistes d'espionnage disembarked into their various pursuits on the island of Bali.
The day was warm already as the queue began to form on the lower deck of the ship. The way onto the island was via the tenders lined up in the harbor awaiting passengers. Illya felt his stomach lurch in anticipation of the ride to shore. He had felt fine aboard the big ship, no sign of his usual proclivity towards being seasick. The tender would be another thing, however.
Napoleon was very familiar with his partner's sensitive stomach, remembered well the greenish hue to Illya's complexion prior to boarding Shark's infamous ship of fools.
"How're you doing Illya?" Napoleon's inquiry made him even more aware of the probability of getting sick on the trip to shore.
"I shall endure it in hopes of it being a very short voyage.'' He sighed heavily as he and April were helped aboard the tender boat, Napoleon a step behind them.
The dock at Benoa proved to be challenging, with people crowding onto the landing as they were herded towards buses and shouting tourist guides. Illya, April and Napoleon managed to find their way to an area where jeeps painted a garish yellow color advertised the destination the trio had traveled to see, Club de Vacances.
"There, over there, those yellow jeeps. That must be for us." April tugged on Illya's arm to hurry him along, shouting back at Napoleon to follow them. The threesome arrived at the curb where three jeeps were parked, ready for the drive south to Jimbaran. Mark would be coming along later, after finishing up his duties aboard ship.
Napoleon surveyed the surroundings; a collection of shops and food stands, several restaurants, people on bicycles going about their daily routines. The air smelled of pungent spices and the odors caused from too many bodies affected by the heat and humidity. It would be good to be away from it sooner than later, he thought, remembering Illya's comment to him in Terbuf about being so obviously American.
Illya was conversing with one of the drivers, pointing in the direction they would be traveling. He turned as Napoleon approached, offering the information he had already gathered.
"We're waiting for some people who are also going to our spot. Do you want to wager on who that might be?" Napoleon had assumed it might be the case.
"You mean our CIA and MI6 acquaintances? Could be, but why would they be interested in THRUSH? They're usually content to leave the Hierarchy to us unless the target is something of theirs."
Illya wiped the perspiration that had gathered on his forehead. He had the beginnings of a tan from the days lounging by the pool. Napoleon thought he looked rested now, hopefully ready for what lay ahead of them.
"Perhaps they aren't here for THRUSH…' Napoleon frowned at the implication.
"My name did come up, did it not?" Illya wasn't worried, only concerned that it could hamper their mission on Bali.
"Mr. Waverly has addressed that subject with Langley and the Powers That Be in London. No, I don't think it's you they're after."
April ducked into a small shop after ascertaining that there was a delay in their departure. Inside she found several items of interest, including a carving of a bird that she didn't think was indigenous to the island. Stepping back out into the sunlight, she headed directly towards Napoleon and Illya.
"In case we weren't sure about THRUSH being on the island, look what I discovered." She pulled out the carving and held it up for the men to see.
"The shopkeeper says one of the local artists has begun carving these birds, staining them with indigo and morinda to achieve a nearly black color. She said the bird sculptures represent an evil spirit that has come to steal the ocean."
That had the effect she knew it would. But what did it mean?
