Yellow Boots

April looked at herself in the glass and shook her head in admiration. It was known that THRUSH people used these masks all the time, and how very real they looked, but it was rare for UNCLE to go down that road. Under the circumstances though…

Mark knocked on the door and opened it at her call. He looked her up and down and whistled in appreciation.

"Wow partner!"

April was wearing a synthetic full-head mask, similar to the types worn by the enemy on occasion, and it altered her facial features completely. Now, she wore pale blue contact lenses, and the wig that was built into the mask was long and curly and almost white-blond. Her own hair was tucked safely under a skull cap, beneath the mask. Unlike her normal style, she was wearing an ultra-modern mini-dress in blue and yellow, and patent leather yellow boots that came above her knee, with painfully high heels. It was topped off by a yellow leather jacket. She quickly tied her now long blond hair into a loose pony-tail that draped across one shoulder.

"Where are you going to wear your gun?"

April lifted her skirt and very high on her leg was her holster with her gun skillfully arranged so that it would neither show beneath her dress not impede her gait.

"And your communicator…?"

April grinned at him.

"Where do you think?"

"So who will you be? It would hardly be plausible for you to be an American sightseer, would it?"

"That's true." April replied. "Well, I speak fluent Hungarian because of my Hungarian grandmother, and…"

Mark's eyebrows shot up.

"I never knew that! How come you never told me that before?"

April grinned.

"Not thought about it. It's not the sort of thing you just say out of the blue is it? `Did you know I speak fluent Hungarian?' Anyway, it's in my personal file, so you've clearly not read that!"

"I started to read it!" Mark replied half defensively, "but then I figured what the heck? I'd rather get to know you by talking to you anyway. Have you chosen a name for your Hungarian persona?"

"Lilla Novak. Lilla is my mother's middle name, and Novak was my grandmother's maiden name. I thought I would be a photographer, looking for somewhere to feature for a series of pics about the latest fashions for girls."

"Perfect cover. That'll give you license to want to look round the grounds of a large house like that. By the way, are your boots armed, just in case?"

"They are." April cradled his face in her hands and kissed the tip of his nose and then grinned at his startled expression.

"You're worrying about me again. If you want, I can wear one of your special bugs…so long as you don't make me tell you where I will have to put it."

Mark laughed at that and handed the tiny micro-bug to her.

"Considering how tiny your outfit is, I can only think of one safe place. Now take care of yourself partner, and use our code-word when you need me to sweep in. Who will I be? Your editor?"

"Actually, I thought you would make a good personal assistant. Can you speak French?"

"Nope. English is all I'm afraid."

"Well, you can be English, but you had better get yourself into disguise. They'll recognize you too easily if you turn up as you are."

"Will do. If you don't recognize me, I'll pinch your bum to let you know."

April grinned at him.

"You do that and I'll bop you one! Use our code-phrase. I'd better be off now. See you soon Mark."

April left their hotel suite and paused just outside the door.

"Open channel D. Mr. Tarasov?"

"Tarasov here."

"April Dancer, sir. Going under now and closing down."

"Understood. We'll be standing by."

"Thank you, sir. Out."

Holding her head high, brand new, high-tec camera slung almost carelessly over her shoulder, April hit the streets, strolling unhurriedly along, apparently choosing directions at random.

As she went, she became aware of a few appreciative glances in her direction. She ignored them, and took care to look with interest at all the buildings and open spaces she came across, taking photographs of interesting looking places, occasionally making notes in a small notebook she carried deliberately sticking up out of a small shoulder-bag.

She came to the Park of Victory and strolled slowly through, taking random photographs of the fountain, the monument and the greenery. She made another note in her notebook, shaking her head slightly, and walked on, still giving the appearance she intended, a photographer looking for a specific subject.

Finally, after wandering seemingly at random for over an hour, she found herself at the gates of the large house with the extensive grounds where she and Mark had rescued Napoleon and Illya only this morning. She looked excited and started taking picture after picture of what she could see of the house and grounds from outside the gate. She tested the gate. It was locked. She frowned. Would a real photographer wait outside a locked gate? Or would she climb over the gate in this ridiculously skimpy dress and outrageous boots? If THRUSH were still here, someone would be patrolling the grounds. If they had all pulled out, then she and Mark would be wasting their time anyway.

She wondered why Illya had not blown the place up before he left as he usually did? Perhaps he had had a feeling that they might need to return here soon? She looked around carefully, over the gates and the gateposts and finally found what she had half-hoped to find. A large and extremely outdated bell-pull. She seized it and pulled hard. She heard no sound of a bell at all, but the moment she released the handle, a cacophony of excited and angry barking could be heard from somewhere off to the left, round the other side of the main building. A moment later, about twelve large dogs, in reality the Caucasian Ovcharka, also known as the Russian Bear Dog. For a moment, April was slightly alarmed. These animals were large and definitely bear-like. They were accompanied by two men with guns, one of whom silenced the animals with a single command. He raised his gun and stared at the young woman through the bars of the gate and spat out a string of Russian at her. April shook her head, no idea at all what he had said. She smiled as alluringly as she could and waved her camera at him, and started to explain to him who she was and why she was there in Hungarian.

"Hello, would it be possible for me to speak to the owner of this wonderful house, sir? My name is Lilla Novak and I work for an international fashion magazine that is looking for somewhere handsome and striking to use as a backdrop for our latest fashion show. I am authorized to offer good terms to the owners of the right property."

The man clearly had no idea what she had said, so she tried again in awkward and halting English with a very thick Hungarian accent. The man exchanged glances with his comrade and replied in good English.

"What terms and when would this be?"

"I would have to discuss the terms with the owner of this property sir, but the magazine is willing to pay substantially for the rights to use this place as our backdrop. This is exactly the kind of place I have been looking for. As for when, that is negotiable, but ideally sometime within the next two months, before the weather starts to close in again."

"What language were you speaking just now?"

"Hungarian sir. I am Hungarian. I wish I spoke Russian sir, but the only words I know in Russian is how to ask for the location of the ladies' room."

The men smirked. April removed her jacket and smiled sweetly at them. They looked at one another and nodded. The lead guard shouldered his rifle and unlocked the gate with his other hand. She looked warily at the huge dogs sniffing around her. The men smiled.

"They won't hurt you provided you don't run."

April glanced down at her boots with their dangerously high heels.

"I doubt I could run in these boots anyway."

"They are very…" began one of the guards before his compatriot nudged him violently and he subsided with a smirk.

"Come with us. We'll take you to see the Colonel."

"May I take some pictures as we go?"

"I think you should wait and speak to the Colonel first. He may have some security concerns."

April nodded unconcernedly and followed her two escorts to the house.

Once inside the house she was led up a large sweeping staircase to a long corridor and a second staircase. A door off the corridor at the top of this second staircase led into a large room full of oak furniture and dark oak paneling. There were no curtains or blinds at the windows, and tiles on the floor, so despite the room having a slightly dark and sinister look about it, at the same time it had the echoic feel that one would usually find in some large empty room, like a large gallery or gymnasium. Sitting at a desk with his back to the window was the Colonel April recognized from Illya and Napoleon's recent display in the Park. Colonel…Moran wasn't it?

April heard her escorts speak to the man in rapid Russian and then again in English, no doubt for her benefit. She heard them tell him that she was Hungarian, and spoke no Russian but that she spoke reasonably good English although her accent was atrocious. She resisted the impulse to smile at that and nodded her head to him.

"Tell me your name again, and whom you represent?" He demanded without giving her his name.

"I am Lilla Novak. I was born in Hungary, but I left there a few years ago to work for the magazine. The main offices are in London actually, but we operate all over the world. Our preferred projects are here in Eastern Europe where the beauty of the women is more natural and less…manufactured. We have a talented new designer who is anxious to design fresh new and exciting clothes for women here at prices they can afford to pay, and I am here to find the right backdrop to help make the designs look as…rich? No, wrong word…er…exclusive? As possible. This house and its beautiful grounds would be perfect. We would like to negotiate for the right to hold a small fashion show which will become the main feature in our magazine, with full details of this beautiful place…unless of course you need to keep the location secret in which case we will of course comply fully."

"How much are you willing to pay?"

"That depends on the access you are prepared to allow us in using the house and grounds, but Crystal Magazine is an extremely wealthy company and is prepared to pay handsomely for the right location."

"How long will you all be here?"

"Two days to set up and rehearse the girls, two days for the show and a day to clear everything out and leave. Five days all in all."

The Colonel was clearly considering her request seriously. He still had not yet introduced himself. He frowned at her for a moment, then leaned forward across his desk.

"Miss Novak, have you heard of THRUSH?"

April nodded.

"It's a bird I've seen in London in large flocks. I've also heard of some company called THRUSH, but I don't know what industry they deal in."

"Well this place is owned by THRUSH, and I would need their agreement before signing on any dotted lines, but if your people were able to confine your activities to the large gardens at the back, where there is a separate access, and if the money your people offer is generous enough, I might be able to persuade them to agree."

April knew a bribe attempt when she heard one. She smiled.

"Sir, are you able to leave the grounds of this place at all, or are you on some official duty here?"

"Why?" He was just a shade from suspicion.

"Well, I was hoping that if you would agree to have dinner with me this evening…on my expense account of course…we would have ample opportunity to…discuss terms. My personal assistant can make a reservation for us for this evening."

The Colonel put his head on one side, considering the offer. He could go out for a meal with this beautiful woman, and maybe even get her to pay him something up front, who knows? Then if he did hear from her again, he could simply refuse her admittance, or tell her that his superiors had refused her offer and confiscated her money, what could he do? April saw the self-satisfied smile as he made his decision.

"Very well Miss Novak…Lilla wasn't it? I will be delighted to join you for dinner this evening. Would you care to use this telephone to contact your assistant?"

"Thank you….er, pardon me, the guards told me you were a Colonel, but can I call you something a little less formal?"

"Call me Howie."

"Howie. I like that."

Picking up the body of the telephone, April wedged the receiver between her shoulder and her ear, and started lazily strolling round and round the room as she dialed the number for UNCLE Moscow. Tarasov recognized her voice immediately. April nodded smilingly at `Howie'.

"Aah, hello again, yes, I want you to put my personal assistant on the line for me for a minute."

Secretly, April was cursing to herself that she had not thought to find out what, if any, false name her partner would be using. Evidently, Tarasov understood her request and its importance well enough, for a moment later Mark had been patched through to her from his communicator.

"Simon Ruddock." He said, almost lazily in an upper class accent quite unlike his own. Fluidly, April responded.

"Ah, there you are Si. Yes, I want you to make reservations for this evening. You know my favourite place to eat. The man we are going to be negotiating with is called Howie. He has agreed to have dinner with me this evening. We shall not need you to eat with us, but I will need you to be around. Arrange a substantial sweetener for our friend and bring it with you, will you? Time? One hour from now."

She turned to the Colonel.

"One hour from now good for you Howie?"

He nodded, almost eagerly and April turned her attention back to her partner.

"Very well Si, all is a garden full of roses to a young nose!"

She hung up. The Colonel raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well, perhaps I will find something a little less formal to wear, shall I?"

As Mark turned off his communicator and returned it to his pocket, he grinned to himself. The final words April had spoken was their code-phrase for `everything is going to plan so far'. He hurried quickly away. He had several important arrangements to make.