Napoleon walked back, rejoining his partner and Angelique as they were still engaged in conversation. He was surprised to hear them discussing Montreal as apparently Illya had never been here, but Miss La Chien, not surprisingly, was very familiar with the area.
"Oh darling, there is a simply marvelous Chinatown located on La Gauchetière, Saint Urbain Street and Saint Lawrence Boulevard (boul. Saint-Laurent), between René Lévesque Boulevard and Viger Avenue (Place-d'Armes Montreal metro station), a significant part of Chinatown extended west to Jeannes-Mance Street, occupying roughly the area of a city block.
" I was just telling your partner about the Chinatown here. I do hope we'll have time to stop as the food is simply divine and given his larger than usual appetite, it might be in our best interests to feed the beast. There's a wonderful Cantonese restaurant on Rue Saint-Lambert, hmm what is that name now…?" Angelique tapped her temple with her forefinger as she thought.
"Angelique, this isn't a pleasure excursion. We need to get to the satrap ahead of Altshuler," Solo chided her.
"Well if you think I'm going there without first freshening up from our trip, then you are sadly mistaken. A girl must look her best, regardless of the situation. If on the off chance I die, then I'm going to be looking good."
Illya watched as his partner's blood pressure was surely rising, thinking it was about time she finally got to him.
"Fine. We'll get a hotel room so your majesty can have her bath and beauty."
"Excuse me? Napoleon dearest, take that tone with me again and you will not only lose certain privileges; I just might not tell you where that satrap is. I could handle this job by myself you know, and T.H.R.U.S.H. would have control of certain nuclear supplies to boot."
Kuryakin had bit his tongue long enough, suddenly erupting with a finger wagging at Solo.
"I warned you she might betray us. We never should have trusted her."
"Warned? You warned him about me you paranoid little….Russian," Angelique hissed.
The two looked as if they were ready to charge each other if Napoleon hadn't acted quickly and stepped in between them.
"And you!" They both barked at him.
"Moi?" Solo gave them an innocent puppy dog look. "Hey aren't we forgetting we're trying to stop a madman from blowing up the world and driving what's left of it into a nuclear winter?"
That essentially threw a wet towel on the heated argument and both of them backed off.
Napoleon went to a nearby courtesy desk, smiling at the lovely uniformed girl behind the counter, speaking Québécois to her, and sounding like a native speaker to boot. He sighed to himself as it was nice not to have comments made about his accent.
"Bonjour Mademoiselle, my friends and I need a nearby hotel, reasonably priced. Could you recommend one?"
"Certainement Monsieur," she smiled, pulling out a map and pointing out L'hotel du Chevalier on St. Lawrence Street."
"Excellente ma cher. Merci." He smiled at her and felt something slipped into his hand; a piece of paper with her telephone number scribbled on it.
He tucked it into his pocket with a sigh, not that he could do anything about it.
"Are you from Quebec Monsieur?"
"Non, Je suis Americain. I'm from New York."
"Oh, your accent is excellent,"she smiled at him again. "Why don't you give me a call when you're free. You can tell me about New York...oui?
"Oui," he smiled. leaning forward, he took her hand and lightly kissed it. "Au revoir Mademoiselle."
"Therese, Therese Marie St. Claire."
"I will remember that," he winked at her before he turned away.
Angelique and Illya met up with him and followed to the taxi stand where Solo hailed a cab for them.
"L'hotel du Chevalier, et rapidement s'il vous plaît?" Napoleon slipped the driver a few dollars as an extra incentive.
"Tout suite Monsieur_right away sir," he replied.
Napoleon and Angelique were booked into a room with double beds; Napoleon's argument being that they weren't going to stay. They needed to get to the satrap, but Angelique needed to be placated as well.
Illya was again booked into a room by himself, which was really fine by him.
Solo's infatuation with her was slowly fading, though he was sure if she came onto him,he'd still take her up on her offer. Regardless of her affiliation with THRUSH, she was incredible in bed and she knew that he knew it, along with which of his buttons to push to launch his libido into action.
He wondered if Illya were right, as he always said a woman would be the death of him. Would that woman be Angelique Le Chien?
She gathered a small valise and disappeared into the bathroom, but minutes later she stuck her head back out the door, letting the two agents she she was barely wrapped in a towel.
"Napoleon dearest, care to...ummmm, wash my back, and talk about the satrap," she batted her eyes like a schoolgirl and burst into laughter as she saw the Russian roll his eyes; that never got old to her.
The American loosened his tie, "Well since you asked?" He followed her inside, slamming the door closed behind himself.
Illya was livid. His partner could find time to fuck the bitch... yet they had to get to that satrap. He reminded himself Angelique could only tell them where it was. A catch 22, with he and Solo caught in her little game of control.
He let go his annoyance, making up his mind that if they had time for sex, then he had time for food. He decided to order some Chinese and called the front desk for a recommendation.
"Monsieur, we can order for you and have it delivered by room service. That would suit you, n'est ce pas?"
"Oui, that would be perfect. I would like Peking Duck, fried dumplings, chow mein and wonton soup...all for four please. Have it billed and delivered Mr. Solo's room."
The food arrived much sooner than Illya anticipated, all the better as by the time Napoleon and Angelique came out of the bathroom, everything had been laid out.
"What the devil?" She blurted out."Didn't you get the hint to leave Kuryakin!"
He ignored her and continued to dish out the food to his plate.
"I ordered enough for all of us but if you do not care to eat?"
Napoleon was annoyed at first, as he expected to be climbing into bed with his paramour and make passionate love to her again, but the food really smelled good.
"Well it is ready to eat," Napoleon shrugged, looking at her.
She turned up her nose and spun around, still wrapped in her towel and headed back into the bathroom.
"So I see you ordered enough to feed Cox's army, tovarisch."
"Who's army?" Illya asked, as he speared a piece of duck.
"Not important," Napoleon chuckled," now hand me the chowmein please.
The partners tucked into their food, ignoring the fact that Angelique had banned herself to the bathroom in a snit.
She finally emerged, fully clothed with her hair and makeup done to a tee.
"Feel better?" Napoleon asked.
"Darling, if I'm going to eat, no matter where I am, I will look my best. The duck smells delicious, and I'm starved. Napoleon dearest you gave me quite an appetite. It seemed her anger had now been overcome by her appetite.
"Help yourself," Illya handed her a plate and utensils.
She suddenly looked demure,"Ummm, thank you."
At last, Napoleon smiled to himself; civil behavior with the two of them.
After they finished eating Napoleon and Illya disappeared to the Russian's room.
"So during your latest assignation with Angelique did she tell you anything useful about the satrap?"
"She confirmed it's in Quebec province but she wouldn't tell me exactly where. She's going to lead us there."
Illya rolled his eyes with a groan. "So why are we here really? Napoleon I think she is playing us for fools."
"Tovarisch right now we have no choice but to be at her mercy. This is only the second of the seven bombs, so we still have a long ways to go to trust her."
"You are being controlled by her like a puppet on strings my friend," Illya said." And I am following you like, like...a subservient lackey."
"Gee, don't mince any words will you?" Napoleon sat on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs and his hands over his knee. "I know what she's up to and she getting her jollies manipulating the two of us, but she does know this is serious business, of that I'm positive."
"More of your pillow talk I presume? " Illya was a little snarky with that remark.
"Will you knock it off. Granted I enjoy screwing her brains out but it's getting old being played by her. She's let a few clues slip during our love making sessions, but I think I'm going to go have a talk with her and lay my cards on the table. No more of her games." She doesn't know we have the tracker on little Willie boy, so that's to our advantage."
Napoleon's communicator began to chirp.
"Solo here."
It was Waverly. "Altshuler is on the move. He's on I-69 at present, a thoroughfare the will take him to the Canadian border, if Miss La Chien has been honest with her intelligence? Has she given you the exact location of the satrap?"
"No sir not quite yet."
"Dammit man, you get that information from her. No more games and ahem….other things. She must be convinced of the seriousness of this situation. There's no more taking sides, no UNCLE no THRUSH. It's just us against this lunatic Altshuler!"
Napoleon had never quite heard Mr. Waverly this angry. The man never lost his cool under pressure.
"Yes sir I was just about to speak to Miss La Chien and put our cards on the table, telling her it's time to put up or shut up."
"Well you have roughly sixteen hours to convince her otherwise as that's how long it will take Altshuler to get to Quebec City."
"Yes sir."
"NO more dilly dallying! Out."
"Hmm, he is quite perturbed is he not?" Illya asked.
"That is an understatement if ever I heard one tovarisch." Napoleon rose from the bed. "Wish me luck."
"In truth my friend, you do not need it. The Solo luck has never failed you."
Napoleon sighed." There's always a first…"
He walked across the hall, and entered without knocking. It was his room as well, after all.
"Darling I was getting lonely?"
Room service had come and gone, taking away the remnants of their meal and apparently had brought a bottle of champagne. Angelique was drinking a glass of it, while lounging on the sofa.
She'd positioned herself in a provocative manner, showing plenty of cleavage, as well as her legs through a slit in her dress.
"You know there's nothing I haven't seen already," he said. Pouring himself a glass of bubbly, he sat in a chair opposite her, keeping her at bay and out of striking distance.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means no more games Angelique. I need you to understand the seriousness of all this. No more manipulating, no more power plays. We, and I stress that word, have to stop this nut job now. It has to end here. We can't take the risk one of his bombs going off."
"Well really that goes without saying." She put down her glass and sat up, smoothing out her dress.
"Angelique, please?"
"Oh darling don't let your feathers get so ruffled." She clicked her tongue." You can't blame a girl for having a little fun can you?"
"Fun time is over sweetheart. It's time to pay the piper. Where is the satrap?
"Come sit with me darling?" She patted the sofa cushion beside her.
"No, though it cuts me to the quick to say that, but it's time to give up the truth. Do you know the location of the satrap or not?"
"All right, I surrender. It was inevitable but I didn't think I would be this soon...I thought you had more stamina, darling."
"Angelique, you have no idea how much stamina I'm capable of having, now the location of the satrap please? Altshuler is on the move."
"How do you know that?"
"Angelique?"