The next morning Kuryakin reported to headquarters, walking through the sterile grey corridors trying to remain immune to the glances and icy over the shoulder stares that he caught out of the corner of his eye.
The turning of heads and whispers behind his back had returned, as the dismissal of Anderson gave new life to the old comments that Kuryakin received special treatment as he was Waverly's pet Russian. Though he could live with it as he had done so in the past; it sometimes got old and he wished it would all just go away. He did not like being the hot topic of discussion at the water cooler.
Illya was relieved to get out of the building with his two charges in tow; leading them from the section three office down to the motorpool where a sedan had been reseverd for him. The senior agent's plan was to take them out into the city for a simple surveillance operation just to get to get a good look at their abilities.
This was the type of assignment that grated on Illya's nerves as he did not care for dealing with inexperienced agents. On a few past occasions they had nearly gotten him killed, but this was not a mission in the true sense, so for once the risk factor was eliminated.
It still however, was a disciplinary action against him, though albeit a minor one, when compared to the alternative punishment that Waverly first had in mind.
At this point Illya felt his punishment was deserved, as his actions against Anderson were sheer stupidity on his part for having allowed the man to succeed in baiting him. Illya knew that his lack of control needed to be addressed. But right now he needed to pay attention to the situation at hand and that was seeing to the surpisingly green junior agents that now tagged along behind him.
"And these two are section two material?" he wondered to himself as he studied them.
The objective he had selected for the operation was an appliance store located downtown just off Canal Street; a suspected Thrush contact point where their agents would receive minor assignments. Not a high profile target where he and the section threes could expect any problems to occur.
Illya parked the car a block away from their objective, then they walked the rest of the way along the heavily traversed side walk on Canal. The sounds of Italian being spoken surrounded them, intermingled with various dialects of Chinese bartering, and conversing. It all drifted in and our of ear-shot as the trio entered the ethnic areas known as Little Italy and Chinatown which in harmony essentially on top of each other in that part of the city.
The blond blue-eyed Russian would normally have been conspicuous among the sea of dark-haired pedestrians but as always Illya mangaged to make himself go unnoticed. The agents with him, both dark-haired should have blended well with the local Italian population, but for some reason seemed too visible to him.
Illya whispered quietly as they headed towards their location. "Could you two please make yourselves less obvious?"
"How do we do that?" The one called Paul asked under his breath.
"Walk as though you belong here, like it is your home. Try to look more comfortable?"
"Oh so look like we know where we're going?" asked the other.
"That would help."
Illya stopped, picking up a newspaper and buying a chocolate gelato for himself as he surveyed the people around them. Then he continued to move along casually, trying to show the others how it was done.
The trio paused in front of the window to a store front Chinese take out; along the top of the window was a rack containing a row of fully cooked ducks, and squirming in large aquarium below them was at least a dozen live frogs.
"Hey look," Charlie pointed as a man pulled one of the frogs from the tank, smiling as he held it up to show them; then suddenly, without warning slammed the frog on the end of the counter, killing it as part of the process to be cooked.
Kuryakin suppressed a laugh as the two junior agents were completely startled at the unexpected sight.
They finally reached the end of the block with their destination in sight.
Kuryakin had previously gone over the the layout of the area and presented to the two rookies the question of where would be the best vantage point to stake out the location.
Paul Spavento, the younger of the two men suggested the roof of the building across the street. The other agent named Charlie Mannion argued for the first floor apartment in the same building as the one Spavento suggested.
"Defend your choices gentlemen." Illya said with just a bit of amusement in his voice.
"Well the roof top gives the best vantage point of the entire block as well as the location." said Paul.
"And you Charlie?" Illya prompted.
"Well an apartment vantage point closer to the street level does limit view of the block, but the target is fully visible and in the event of an incident it offers a more acessible escape route, as the next building is not close enough to jump to. So the roof top does not lend itself to an easy exit and since it's a three story walkup, it would have only one way...safe way down and take longer to get to the street leve. Where as the apartment has two exit options, the door and the windows close to ground level."
"Very good Charlie, that is my assesment as well. Paul you must always look at such a situation from a proactive as well as a reactive point of view."
The younger agent acknowledged with a nod of his head, but seemed uncomfortable at he correction.
The three men walked into the apartment building, attemptiong to make arrangements with the landlady to look at a vacant apartment in the front of the building as prospective tenants. Illya telling her his nephew Charles was interested as he was getting married.
The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Jankowski and Illya detecting an accent, moved flawlessly into speaking to her in Polish.
"I am so sorry, I do not have time to show it right now," she said, "but perhaps you could give me a telephone number at which I could reach you?" she smiled with a twinkle in her eye.
Illya flirted back mischieviously still speaking Polish.
"Ah but your husband might be upset?" he teased.
The woman blushed, "Oh I am a widow." she smiled as she fussed with her hair for a moment.
Illya pinched her chin, "And you such a lovely young thing, all on your own? Is there no way we could just see it on ourselves? I could leave the keys under the doormat and that telephone number?"
She held out the key to him and Illya snatched it instantly.
"Thank you." he smiled, "pehaps I could instead return it in person to you this evening?"
"Oh that would be lovely, I won't be back until seven. But you would give a lady time to freshen up though wouldn't you?
She disappeared down the hall to the building entrance, calling back with a shy laugh, reminding him to do as he promised.
The Russian opened up the apartment door, ushering the men inside. It was small, simple and reminded Illya of his old place.
He did a walk through, locating the bathroom, then stood in the middle of the livingroom, speaking softly.
"In an empty location such as this, you must be sure to keep your voices down...no accutrements to absorb the sound, so your voices will carry. Now, choose the best vantage points."
"No brainer, "said Paul, "front window living room." Charlie agreed.
"Why?"
"We have full view of the target."
Illya shook his head at them in disagreement.
"There is an adjoining alley to this building; the bedroom offers front and side view. In this case one of you would be in the living room, the other positoned in the bedroom. The living room offers the best vantage of the front entrance, the bedroom the alley."
Illya pulled a newspaper from beneath his suit jacket, holding it up to them.
"Another necessity, besides binoculars when on stakeout as these assignments can sometimes be tedious. Something else important on a surveillance operation and an absolute necessity."
"What's that sir?" Charlie asked.
"Food. Did either of you take note where to find it close by?"
"No sir I didn't."
"Neither did I" Spavento admitted as well.
"Gentlemen, you are trained agents, or at least I thought so? It is part of our jobs to be observant. There is no less than four regular eateries located nearby. Two Chinese take-out, one pizzeria and one delicatessan, plus there is a hot-dog vendor standing at the corner. Do you recall seeing any of these?"
"I remember the hot dog stand," smiled Paul.
"That was too easy," jabbed Charlie.
Illya sighed, thinking it was going to be a long three days.
"Alright, recount to me how it is we got here and what was done to facilitate it?"
"You were nice to the landlady and she gave you the keys?"
"Oh Charlie please?" Illya shook his head.
"Let me elucidate. Firstly I created a minimal cover story. A nephew looking for an apartment for he and his bride to be, a legitimate reason and one that immediately sets up an air of sentimentality to an middle-aged married woman's part."
"Did either of you notice that she wore a wedding band?"
The pair shook their heads, again embarrassed as their lack of attention to details.
"Cover story, keep it simple. Giving too much information to an asset can trip you up, as you will have too much to remember. Now when it comes to women, a little harmless flirtation...a smile, a look can go a long way but without making any firm committments." Though I did indiate coming back in the evening, but that was to find out, how long we would have use of the apartment. Illya's thoughts about Napoleon's approach being to the contrary made him smile for a moment. "Pay attention to details, to an asset's reaction; the voice inflection, speech patterns, body language."
"Yeah, how did you know she spoke...what was that Russian?"
"No it was Polish and I did not know, but I heard the slightest hint of an accent and her last name, though probably her married name was Polish. I took a chance; speaking to someone in their native language, especially when they are far from their home, tugs at their heart-strings and makes an instant connection, opening the door to trust."
"That is why she surrendered the keys to me so easily and commenting about a husband told me what I needed to know to continue the firtation, and raise her hopes of getting my telephone number. The look in her eye and her body language told me that she was attracted to me the moment I began speaking Polish to her."
"Now get yourselves in positon and maintain a careful watch."
"Yes sir," Spavento droned, " We know, note comings and goings, times and photograph people of interest."
Illya was at least satisfied with that answer, though the tone of voice in it's delivery left something to be desired He excused himself, going to the bathroom then overheard the agents while he washed his hands, thinking to himself that they still speaking too loudly.
"That guy is such a pompous know-it-all don't you think?" said Spavento, " no wonder people can't stand him and he has all the personality of an an ice berg, it's no wonder they call him the Ice Prince."
Illya was accustomed to insults, generally ignoring them outwardly and not giving anyone the satisfaction of a reaction. Except for his recent faux pas with Mike Anderson. Some of those vilifcations stabbed at him like a sharp syringe, this one coming from Spavento disappointed him that his demeanor was being misconstrued as pomposity.
He was simply telling them what they needed to know and doing it in a direct and effiecient way. He was being helpful, trying to guide them in their decisons; making corrections where needed. He was helping them to save their own lives some day?
"And for this he received an insult?" he shook his head in disgust; reminding himself that he was not there to be liked; he was there to do his job...even though this job was his punishment from Waverly.
Illya stepped out from the bathroom, giving the two men an icy look. "I am going down the street to purchase our lunch. You are to remain here and stay out of trouble, " he ordered coldly as he walked out the door.
They watched as the Russian headed across the street and two doors down to the deli.
"Do you think he heard you?" asked Charlie, "He looked a little pissed at us?"
"Who cares, let's just get through this, then we're done with him."
"Are you really that stupid Paul? That is Illya Kuryakin you're talking about? He's the heir apparent to the CEA position once Solo moves on. He could be our boss some day...hell we could still be partnered with him for an assignment."
"I think the man deserves some respect; he didn't get to where he is by being pompous. He's smart, damn smart. I for one am going to pay close attention to every word he says. You don't realize what an opportunity we're being given, I mean we're getting sage advise from the number two agent in section two? Napoleon Solo wouldn't have him for a partner if he wasn't the best."
"Now there's a paring I just don't get?" Spavento said, "Solo's suave, sophisticated, then there's Kuryakin, dry and always dressing in those black suits. I still can't understand what that hottie Mc Gowan saw enough to marry him?"
"Paul, listen to what you just said; if you expand on it the match make perfect sense."
"Solo, urbane, sophisticated, subtle and smoothe. Kuryakin socially awkward, a bit of an egg head, aggressive and direct. They're polar opposites, but together they compliment each other. What one lacks the other makes up for. The things those two have done together are almost legendary. Man, I only hope I get a partner as good as Solo or Kuryakin someday?"
"I think you're a little too full of hero worship Charlie."
"Hero worship, no. I'd like to be as good as either of them someday, that's all. We've got an opportunty to learn from the best for the next three days and I'm not blowing it."
"So what about your theory on Kuryakin and Mc Gowan?"
"Alright I admit, that's a pairing I just don't get?" Charlie laughed.
"Yeah the Ice Prince and the Banshee? I can't see a firecracker like her with him. Can you just picture that red-head in the sack? I have a good idea who's always the one on top?"
"She's one I wouldn't mind having a tumble with" Spavento growled, "Va-voom!"
The rookie agents finally decided to split their positons before Illya returned. Charlie moving himself to the bedroom, giving him a much better view as Illya had said.
They waited for Kuryakin and waited and waited, but he didn't come back.
"So I guess this is another test?" Spavento called.
"Why would he tell us he was going to get lunch then if he was going to leave us?" Charlie anwered from the other room. " that doesn't make sense; he's supposed to be supervising us?"
"Charlie you think he wants to do this. It was his reward for beating up Mike Anderson. They fired him you know...now that's just wrong. The American gets canned and the Russian doesn't, just over a fight? And I heard Anderson got the worst of the injuries too. Something is up there, I think the Russian is still Waverly's pet and gets special treatment."
"Special treatment, please? I heard he was suspended from the field. You don't pull one of your best agents out of the field to baby sit rookies; we're his punishment, don't kid yourself."
Several hours passed and finally Charlie decided that something was indeed wrong. He walked into the living room as he pulled his communicator.
"I'm going to contact headquarters, I have a bad feeling about this." he said.
"Who you gonna talk to?"
"Open channel D - Napoleon Solo please?"
"Solo here."
"Yes Mr. Solo, this is Agent Charlie Mannion. Mr. Kuryakin was supposed to be supervising Agent Spavento and
myself on a stakeout. Sir, he left to get lunch across the street hours ago and he never came back. At first we thought it was part of the assignment but now I'm not so sure?"
There was a pause. "No Mr. Kuryakin was supposed to remain with you. Stay put, I'm on my way. Solo out."
"Channel D- Kuryakin," requested Napoleon, "Illya are you there?"