Chapter 2 =======================================================
Napoleon awoke to a sharp knocking at his room's door. He hadn't realized how tired he was to sleep so soundly. Looking at his watch, he saw that is was just about noon Kiev time.
"Yes," Napoleon said loudly as he pushed himself out of the bed, drunkenly stumbled to the door, and opened it. He'd dressed casually before he lay down. "Come in."
"Mr. Solo?" A young woman in a slightly over-sized, military uniform asked politely. "I am Seaman Dolchi, personal assistant to Cpt. Lt. Kuryakin."
"Male or female," Napoleon asked with an amused smile.
"What? Oh, Cpt. Lt. Alexana Kuryakin," the young lady blushed prettily. "She wants to invite you to lunch in the servant's kitchen before the public viewing starts."
"Well, I think that would be a wonderful idea. I've wanted to meet her ever since I discovered she existed. Lead the way, Miss…Dolchi…"
"Margaret. This way, Mr. Solo, no need to dress up, it's an informal meal." Dolchi motioned Napoleon to take the lead down the hallway.
"What can you tell me about Cpt. Lt. Kuryakin?" Napoleon asked the young Seaman as they casually walked down the hall.
"Sir?"
"What does she look like? Is she a fair officer? Does she have a temper like her cousin?" Napoleon asked, trying to get the Margret's opinion.
"You, Mr. Solo, will have to find that out for yourself. Although, I am one of her assistants, I very rarely see her. She works mostly abroad, but I help her keep track of what is going on in Kiev and this facility. Most of time I deliver sealed messages between her and … the General."
Napoleon noticed she stuttered when mentioning the name of the elder Kuryakin. He could see there was a mournful look in the young Seaman's eyes, clearing her suddenly tight throat.
"I get the feeling that General Kuryakin meant a great deal to you."
"Yes," Dolchi said while weakly smiling, trying to hide her sadness. "I spent a lot of time with…General Kuryakin toward the end. I brought him his nightly vodka. He would have me read poetry to him. He was a very cultured man. I learned a lot about the outside world those nights I attended him. He was a dear comrade to me."
"You have my sympathies. All those who've talked of him have said nothing, but the best."
Napoleon was oddly surprised that this young woman felt more from the General's passing than he ever remotely got from Illya. It was a little disturbing and he hoped to find out more about his partner's upbringing.
"Thank you, Mr. Solo." Margret's eyes cleared while she batted her tears away and they began shine as brightly as her smile perked up. She was a pretty girl with blue eyes and short blonde hair tucked under hat. She could be a real looker, Napoleon thought, with some makeup, hair uncovered, and the right clothes instead of the thick woolen uniform that covered her from shoulders to mid calf. "Here's the old servant's kitchen. Cpt. Lt. Kuryakin is right through that door. I will see you at the public viewing, Mr. Solo. Maybe you can give me your impression on how you like the Soviet Union and its people. Good-bye."
"I hope to do just that if time permits me. Thank you for your assistance, Margret." They both nodded goodbye just before Napoleon walked through the door.
Once inside with a tiny click of the handle into the small of his back, Napoleon noticed a woman with stylish, long, bright blonde hair, a slim athletic build, and in regular street clothes leaning over some cooking pots. The food smelled good to Napoleon's half-empty stomach that began to rumble in protest. For a while, he watched her silently as she seasoned the stew and danced around on the balls of her feet, which to his surprise were bare and dirty.
"No need to be so quiet, Mr. Solo," The woman said in perfect English with a slight, delicious, Russian accent as she sensed his presences and straightened up. "Shut the door before you have every soldier on this level here. Naddya would never forgive me if it were said that I cooked better than the cook does. She doesn't need to be here anyway. Much more relaxing, don't you think?"
"Yes, I agree," Napoleon said with a smiled, stepping away from the closed door and sat down at the long, narrow wooden table. "Now, I assume that I'm meeting the great and mysterious Cpt. Lt. Alexana Kuryakin. Cousin to my good friend, Illya, who by the way has never mentioned you in all our travels…"
Just as he was began to turn on his world famous charm, Alexana turned around. Her beauty blew Napoleon away. She had a look about her that got her instantly noticed. Sharp, sapphire, blue eyes, perky nose, full pink lips, and a smile that made even the great Napoleon Solo forget what his own name for a moment.
"Well, you know Illya, very secretive and not very forth coming with much information; even if his life depended on it. He hadn't said much about you either. I'd gotten more of my impression of you from my father. Quite the ladies man I hear…"
"Well…I wouldn't say…" It was Napoleon who turned a shade pink before he flashed a devilish smile; trying to regroup from her statement and beauty.
"Oh, I would." Alexana challenged him with a matter-of-factly tone and then smiled her own seductive smile. "Don't worry Napoleon. I will keep this between us."
"Keep what between you two?" Illya asked as he entered the kitchen from another door in his full naval dress uniform.
"Illya!" Alexana screamed wildly, both rushed toward to each other and jumped into a big hug. "It's about time you got back. How did you know we were down here?"
"Are you kidding? The smell of your stew was all I needed. I didn't know just how much I missed your cooking until it grabbed a hold of my stomach and led me down here. Are you still hiding from Naddya in the servants' quarters, just like old times?"
"You're the one to talk, Little Mouse!" Alexana laughed lightly as she pushed Illya away from her to the table and went to grab some bowels while she started to ladle up the stew on the stove.
"Illya," Napoleon greeted him as he heavily sat down. "Your cousin here was about to tell me all your deepest secrets. You look rather dashing in your uniform for a change. You're right not to tell me about Alexana; she's quite charming. I don't see any family resemblance…"
"Always the gentleman, Napoleon," Illya said, taking off his hat, hung his coat on the back of his chair, and ran his hands through his flattened hair. The lack of sleep and the promise of none for the next several hours crept into his bones, making his eyes feel dry and tight.
Alexana turned toward both men with a bowl in each hand. She smiled kindly at them and took a few steps toward the table.
"Illya, you look tired. I'll make you something to keep you going until after the viewing. Here you two go, I hope that you will like it. Oh, I forgot to cut the bread. Start eating, I'll just be just a minute and then I want to hear about your meeting with Admiral Putin, Illya."
She didn't have to tell Napoleon or Illya twice to start eating.
"Wonderful girl," Napoleon softly said to Illya after he wantonly inhaled half his portion in the matter of minutes; followed up with an unexpected, satisfying burp. "I can see why you didn't want me to know anything about her. I think I'm in love."
"You had better think more wisely about marrying my cousin, Napoleon." Illya warned off-handedly between bites. "She is more dangerous than I am. Lexi's been highly train to manipulate men and can kill you twenty different ways without using a weapon."
"What am I, chopped liver? It might be a risk that I'd be willing to take."
"No, Napoleon, I won't let you take that risk," Alexana said lightly as set down a tray of cut bread, shot a glance to Illya, pulling off the bowl of stew and three shot glasses of clear liquid from it. "I would rather be friends, for now, deal?"
"Deal," Napoleon grudgingly agreed. He was a little disappointed, but there would be another chance later on to win her over. Illya smiled, because Napoleon got his advances abruptly halted and knew that neither one of them would give in so easily in the next round.
"So, Illya," Alexana continued while sitting down opposite of Napoleon and Illya at the worn work table. "Tell me about your meeting with the Admiral. Was he put in charge of this facility? Will he let you stay at UNCLE?"
"Luckily," Illya sighed, looking at his now empty bowl mournfully until Lexi got up with a snort and refilled it up again. "I haven't been reassigned yet. It wouldn't be prudent for the Soviet Union not to be properly represented in UNCLE. General Kuryakin sent very favorable reports to the leaders. I'm safe so far; except for one thing…I'm to get a haircut. My hair isn't regulation for the Soviet government. I have to cut off at least two inches, three inches would be better."
Alexana and Napoleon both smiled at him and laughed.
"Poor, Illya." Alexana sympathized. "Would you like me to cut your hair? We could ask Naddya to cut your hair instead if you like. She used to when you were younger, I do believe. Where is that salad bowl?"
"Not very funny, Lexi," Illya groaned, putting down his spoon, finally his intense hunger satisfied. "I was teased for days because of her attempts to trim my hair and you know it."
"Especially by Sasha," Alexana asked and chuckled evilly.
"Yes, he did enjoy his petty torments, as you do." Illya frowned.
"Oh, Little Mouse." Alexana mimicked Naddya's voice, took his hands in hers and looked sweetly in his eyes. "I could never stand it when you pout. Here, let me get you another bowl of my stew and I'll leave you alone, but first let us all drink a toast to father."
"Agreed," Illya smiled at first and then turned stiff at the mention of the General as they all had a shot glass in front of them. "To General Boris Kuryakin!"
They all took up a glass, raised them, clinked them, and drank it in one swallow.
"Lexi!" Illya gasped as they all roughly coughed after downing the overly strong liquor. "What did you give us to drink?"
"It will help us latter on." Alexana garbled through a closed throat held tight by one of her hands.
"What is she talking about?" Napoleon asked as he tried to swallow down the bitter taste still lingering on his tongue.
"Nothing," Illya said curtly in a winded voice. "Any effects on him?"
"None… harmless," Alexana shook her head and passed out glasses of water. "Napoleon that was father's homemade brand of vodka and it wasn't quite ready as I thought. You will be fine. Here, let me get you more food and then I'll cut your hair, Illya. We only have half an hour before we all need to leave for the public viewing."
Napoleon wanted to ask more questions like in Waverly's office, but decided to wait things out. The burn from the alcoholic drink warmed his chest as he watched with glee as Illya silently endured a haircut by Alexana, adding a few jibes along the way, which Illya finally rebutted in great frustration.
Napoleon was surprised he wasn't stopped by anyone as he took an early, pre-dawn walk in the country palace's garden. It was a wonderful time to see the countryside of Kiev. A soft wind brought in the sweet smell of the morning dew and the crushed rock on the paths led him further from the facility and down to a gazebo that rang out a tinny song from the chimes catching the tiniest of breezes from its framework. He could hear a babbling brook that was hidden until he stepped onto the deck of the wooden patio above a simple sidewalk and dock. He sat down on one of the bleached, gray benches where the brook met a pond and took in the rustic scenery.
The public viewing of General Kuryakin had gone as expected. All the soldiers in every rank took their turn to stand at attention by his coffin as hordes of the "People of the Soviet Union" went by. There were flowers and mementoes everywhere in the capital house. When either Illya or Alexana were not by the General, they were meeting with government officials and important dignitaries from all over the world. The only one who had kept Napoleon entertained the entire time was Seaman Margaret Dolchi. She was assigned to watch over him while he attended the viewing. Many foreign officials were assigned a military escort. He was lucky; his was young, nice looking, lady that was knowledgeable about more worldly things other than life inside the Motherland.
The reason why Napoleon was up so early? His body and mind were still on New York time. He and most everyone else staying at the palace went to their room's right after the viewing was over. All Illya had given him was a tired wave before headed straight to his room; as did Alexana. The only one left standing at the bottom of the stairs was Naddya, who gave him a frightful stare and crossed her arms across her broad chest. Once in his room, he easily fell asleep, but it didn't last long and now he found himself sitting in a gazebo watching the sunrise.
"You did a nice job in being very quiet this morning." Alexana said in English from a few feet from Napoleon, making him jump up from the bench. "Although, I hoped that you noticed that you were left alone. Watched, but left alone."
"You startled me," Napoleon said in a rush as his hand automatically went to his holster and gun that wasn't there; a habit that he would never break in his lifetime. "I didn't think that I was doing anything that would cause suspicion, but you know, once a spy…"
"Yes," Alexana agreed and sniffed a small laugh, but didn't get up from sitting on the edge of the steps leading to the dock with her back to Napoleon, but instead reclined on one arm. "Once a spy…still on New York time, Napoleon?"
"Yes," Napoleon said as he walked down to the steps where Alexana was leaning back on her side, sat down opposite her and copied her posture.
"So am I," she said, looking at him to watch the happy surprise on his face.
"Creatures of habit," Napoleon softly said as he lightly brushed a piece of wind-blown hair from her eyelashes. She half closed her eyes in reaction to his touch. She was so very beautiful, Napoleon thought, but something much more that just physical. She was intoxicating; drawing him to her like a strong magnet. She calmly let him stare at her for a full minute before opening her sapphire eyes to intently face him.
"You have to promise me something, Napoleon," Alexana said in a seriously firm, hushed voice; taking matters into her own hands while her right index finger traced Napoleon's face.
"Anything," Napoleon promised. He would promise anything to her right now. All she had to do was ask.
"I want you to promise me that you'll be on your flight to New York no matter what. Don't stay here any longer than you have to. The Soviet Union is not safe for an American right now. There is too much distrust and fear going on. You need not be in the middle of it."
"That is a very odd thing for you to want me to promise. Will you be going back to New York as well?" Napoleon asked tactfully, wondering if they were being watched and overheard.
"No and Yes," is all Alexana said. No, she wasn't back to America and yes, they were being watched. "Promise?"
"I will do my best," Napoleon said diplomatically, hoping that she was eventually going back to New York, so they could spend more time together. Her eyes drew his whole body in.
"If this is all you can give me, I'll take it. Thank you. I'll try to keep you to it. Don't be surprised if I have to order it. Illya will…"
"Captain Lieutenant Kuryakin!" A big man in a slightly worn military uniform shouted as he rushed up to the two of them and roughly grabbed Alexana up by the arm and yanked to her feet. "What are you doing here with him?"
"Sasha, let go of me! You have no authority over me!" Alexana shouted back at him and wrenched her arm from his fierce grip once she got her footing. "You've no right!"
Napoleon quickly stood up and was about to take on this man, but Alexana put up her arm before him. He could see that this man's fingerprints were already bruising the pale skin of her forearm.
"I've more right than he will ever have, after waiting all this time for you and you throw yourself at him. It's not fair to the Soviet Union or to me. I'll win your respect someday and soon!"
"Enough Cpt. Lt. Noustovich, you know where you have stood and that won't change anytime in the short future. This action doesn't make your case any stronger. Now, what do you want? I'm currently off duty and have clearance to be out here with Mr. Solo. Warm ups don't start for another half an hour. I suggest we all go back to the facility and change."
Noustovich hung his head, realizing the mistake he had just made with Alexana and followed sullenly behind her and Napoleon down the gravel path. He was angry with Alexana, angry with himself, and extremely jealous of any man that Alexana happened to talk to. Napoleon could tell that Alexana had been through this before and that she'd, like most men, wrapped Sasha around her little finger whenever she wanted. He even felt the tugging.
Sasha Noustovich was a hulk of a man with butch, sandy brown hair, small dark squinty eyes, and strong, angry features. He towered above Napoleon by half a foot and outweighed him by a good hundred pounds. Napoleon was thinking to himself, what moves it would take to disarm this man if need be.
"Mr. Solo," Alexana brought Napoleon back from his thoughts as they walked toward the Special Ops. Facility, "It is regulation that all soldiers that are not commissioned officers to go to a mandatory morning exercise session. Most of the soldiers above the rank of Lieutenant, while they are here, join them. Would you care to join us this morning? I'm sure we can find you some exercise clothes. We can assess how well UNCLE trains their agents, eh, Sasha?"
"Humph!" Noustovich grumbled, not addressing Alexana directly at first. "I bet he would not last the first round. I get first dibs. I'll show him how we take care of foreigners in the Soviet Union."
"You can try, Sasha, but I think that Mr. Solo may have a few tricks up his sleeve. I'm sure that he has been trained in many attack maneuvers, especially against bigger opponents."
"We shall see," Noustovich agreed as he made his own glaring promise to Napoleon. He was out for revenge against him trying to take Alexana away.
Seaman Dolchi, who was already in her exercise outfit and sneakers to begin the morning session, led Napoleon to the gym. Everyone was dressed in gray sweats and plain white tops. He met up with Illya, Alexana, and Sasha by bleachers. They had already started to stretch out.
"I'm sorry that I'm late." Napoleon simply admitted while he started his own routine of stretching before working out.
"You didn't miss much, Napoleon." Illya said dully, as if he was still trying to wake up. Napoleon could never tell if it was Illya's true physical state or part of his personality that kept his opponents guessing to his true abilities.
"You are just in time." Alexana smiled brightly as if nothing had happened this morning. Her arms were covered to hide the bruises she'd gotten from Noustovich, who she was ignoring as part of his punishment. Although, he still stood next to her like a big, black shadow, he seemed to be part of this small group. "I was going to challenge these two men to a competition just to prove how inferior they are compared to me, of course. Are you inferior as well, Mr. Solo?'
"I don't know," Napoleon debated playfully while Illya just rolled his eyes. "It all depends on the challenge…"
"Don't fall for her taunting, Solo," Lt. Noustovich said with a grimaced. "She only picks challenges that she can win."
"That could be half the fun." Napoleon shot back at Alexana, purposely ignoring the jealous Sasha and his smirking partner.
"It would've been." Alexana sighed in disappointment, hopping up to take her turn on the tumbling floor. Her form and execution were perfect until the very end where she stepped back from the landing. A minor fault but, still very impressive for an older gymnast in her later twenties.
Before Napoleon could comment, Illya got up from the floor and took his turn tumbling down the same path as Alexana. It was near perfect as well.
"You didn't stick you landing," Illya pointedly told his cousin when he'd finished his turn.
"Your run was a little slow." Alexana countered back and ran off to another area of the gym with Illya hot on her heels.
"Always the same," Noustovich said to Napoleon as if he were his new best buddy. "Those two are always competing with one another. Always, close friends who know what the other one was thinking without asking. No one could ever break up that friendship up. We all grew up together, you know?"
"No, I didn't." Napoleon said, silently encouraging Sasha to continue.
"Oh, yes. I have loved her, like all men have, but she never takes it serious. That's what makes her a good KGB spy. She hasn't yet realized that I am her match and will win her over. The higher I climb in the ranks and gain power, the more she'll have to take me seriously. I've a plan to finally keep her here with me that'll shortly unfold and it doesn't include you, Mr. Solo. You can just leave tonight and go back to UNCLE headquarters in New York."
"That's the plan." Napoleon whistled softly as he scanned the gym for Alexana and Illya in the crowded sea of gray clad soldiers. They're by the pull-up bars, where they both putting on hand gear for the using the swing bar; talking to each other, smiling and laughing while in their own little world.
Napoleon got up and walked to join the two, leaving Sasha to sit on the floor with his eyes fixated only on Alexana.
"I was just having an interesting conversation with your future husband over there."
"Oh yes," Alexana said calmly. "Has he told you he was my match? That he has a grand plan to keep me here?"
"You've had heard this before." Napoleon rapidly surmised.
"All my life, ever since he and his mother came to this facility. Unfortunately, those who have become my friends or boyfriends have borne the brunt of his jealousy. Even poor Illya, here, has had to nurse many bruises in my honor. I try to take care of this matter myself, but I'm not always around and he seems to be getting even worse with father's passing...almost obsessive."
"It doesn't hurt to have your father in charge of this facility and smart enough to make his daughter a higher rank than most men here." She shot the comment over her shoulder just loud enough from Napoleon to hear.
"Lexi, my relationship with Sasha has nothing to do with you," Illya said in self defense and then turned to Napoleon. "Sasha and I've always been in competition with each other. I've been fortunate enough to do better in all subjects. He still blames me for getting the position at UNCLE. This is the first time we've all held the same officer's rank."
"You mean to tell me that he could have been my partner?" Napoleon asked with a disparaging tone.
'Yes," Illya's dead-pan delivery was ruined by the grin and then he turned deadly serious for his friend to take notice. "Napoleon, this is only part of our upbringing. Later, I'll tell you more, but not now. If Lexi and I don't hurry, we won't get our chance to use the swing bar."
"Oh yes!" Alexana agreed and was off with Illya in a flash. This left Napoleon alone to wallow in unspoken sarcasm to his partner's mastery of evading the subject at hand; a glimpse into his locked-up past.
The funeral of General Boris Kuryakin went as planned without incident. Napoleon had his bag packed, but there were still a couple of hours before his airplane was to take off. He couldn't be with Illya or Alexana, because of the reading of the will, so he decided to see if Seaman Dolchi needed more of his special brand of consoling.
Instead of him being assisted by Margaret, he helped her through the eulogy. She was a strong and brave girl, he thought, as she fought back her tearful feelings for the older general that obviously weren't shared by all.
Suddenly, there was a hard bang at his door and someone rushed in without waiting for him to answer..
"Napoleon!" Dolchi shouted. "Grab your things! We have to leave now. Both Kuryakins have ordered me to take you to the airport. Something is going on here and she wants you out of here. She gave me this packet to give to you. We have to go, now, hurry!"
"What's going on? Is Cpt. Lt. Kuryakin… either one of them, around? I need to find out what's going on." Napoleon grabbed for his communicator. "Open channel D, Mr. Waverly, this is Solo. Something is going on here…"
"No time to talk, Mr. Solo. Get on the next plane. Is there someone to take you? You need to get to the airport. Leave Mr. Kuryakin there to take care of what is going on. I need you here right away."
"Yes, sir," Napoleon didn't like what he was hearing, but agreed to follow orders for the moment. He knew something more was going on and he wanted to find out what, but was duty bound to follow Waverly's orders. "Solo, out."
He clicked the channel off and heard a commotion starting to brew down the hallway. He picked up his bag, tucked the packet under his arm, grabbed Margret's hand and they fled through low, open window.
Dolchi took him to a car that she had parked by the edge of the main entrance; they got in and drove off. Another young soldier had followed them with a THRUSH rifle in his hands, but didn't try to stop them. Once they left, the soldier merely turned around and walked back into the building.