Chapter Three - International Affairs

Napoleon smiled.

Illya understood. His turn to buy the beers.

Illya reached for his wallet, checking that he had the appropriate bills. Not much chance of getting his change in the chaos that filled the Blockshock tonight. Not much chance of getting a waitress either. The West German music scene was the wildest in Europe, and this club was the hottest spot in West Berlin.

The Russian stood, intending to make his way to the tourist-thronged bar.

Personally. Illya would have chosen somewhere far quieter - and substantially more expensive - to lure his American partner. Strasenhaur either hadn't read Napoleon Solo's file, or his department was under budget constraints. Whichever the cause, Illya had been ordered to bring Napoleon Solo here on this particular night.

That order was too innocent to be ignored, and likewise too simple to be misunderstood. He - and thus Napoleon - had seen no choice but to sacrifice their evening to the cause.

"Illya!" A musical voice called over the din. A beautifully feminine figure cut skillfully thought the crowd. And right on time.

"Helga!" He returned the greeting as she slid with practiced ease into his arms.

A brief hug and then... "You should meet Klaus." She waved over a spectacularly handsome young man. "We're staying at the Bregenz."

"Together?" Illya asked loudly.

"Just friends." She pitched her voice to be heard easily over the roar of the busy restaurant.

Illya turned casually back to the table. "Napoleon, this is Helga Schmidt. An old school chum from my Cambridge days, and her friend Klaus." His wave invited the pair to join the table. "This is my partner, Napoleon Solo."

"Partner, eh?" She leaned closer to Illya as the handsome young newcomer slid onto the bench seat beside Napoleon. "I hope he won't mind if I borrow you for one dance?"

"Not at all." Napoleon answered, sending her his most devastating 'as long as I'm next' grin.

"So." Illya began cheerfully. "What have you been doing in the..." As soon as they left earshot his voice changed. "Last few days. And who is..."

"One of our best." Helga answered, careful to keep the hard edge in her voice off her face. "If we have any chance of trapping the elusive Napoleon Solo, he is the man."

They moved together on to the dance floor, buying the brother time to do his work.

*********************

As Illya and Helga finished their dance, a pair of uniformed Polizei entered the restaurant. Walking quickly to Solo's table, they took their place on either side of his guest.

"Excuse me, sir?" The taller man asked Klaus.

"Yes, officer?" The young man reluctantly released his hold on Solo's knee.

The policeman flashed his badge. "If you would come with me?

"I don't understand." Klaus made a very convincing show of confusion. "What is....?

"Misha Appenstrass, we have evidence that you are a THRUSH agent. You are under arrest for espionage."

"What! Impossible!" The outrage in Klaus's voice, if feigned, would have been worthy of an Oscar. "I am NOT Misha Appenstrass, and..." Klaus reached instinctively for his wallet.

"Please, sir." The policeman stepped closer, one hand going to his weapon. "Keep your hands were I can see them."

Klaus stood. "This has got to be some mistake!"

"Just be straight with them." Napoleon patted the younger man's arm comfortingly. "I'm sure they'll work it out down at the station."

When Klaus hesitated, Napoleon squeezed his shoulder. "We can always make that date the next time I'm in town, right?"

"What the..." Helga hissed, watching the arrest over Illya's shoulder.

"Go!" Illya whispered back. "Follow him. Bail him out if you must..." The moved quickly to the far side of the dance floor, concealed briefly by the their bodies. Illya held out his hand. "And give me your hotel key."

She froze as his hand slid into her purse. "What are you going to do?"

Illya gave her a grim look before pushing her towards the door. "Salvage this mission."