Chapter 5

Napoleon and Illya were close to throwing punches. What else is new?

"Why did you plant that transmitter?" Napoleon slammed a fist on the table.

"Because if we are going to find out exactly what is going on, I need to know things!"

"And what things have you discovered?"

They sat at the table in Napoleon's room. Illya leaned back in his chair, indicating no punches were going to be thrown.

"Did you see man in phone booth? He was watching her. And when she left, she made a nod to him."

"Yes, I noticed that, too..." Napoleon raised a brow.

"When you are at dinner, I will go to her apartment. Check things there. That location is one of the things I found using the transmitter. You keep an eye for any other interesting characters. After, we can see if it even safe for you to go to catacombs tomorrow."

"My mother didn't protect me like this..." he chuckled. "It's unnerving and, frankly, a pain in the ass."

"Pain or no, it is my job for now." He checked his watch. "Almost time for you to go... Come to my room when you are done."

As Illya got up to leave, Napoleon snapped him a salute.

"Yes sir!"

"Not funny, Cowboy. Not funny at all." He growled and left.

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Illya sat across the street from Marie's apartment in his rental car and waited. When she finally came out, he waited until she turned the corner before he got out, crossed the street, and entered the building. He scanned the names on the buzzers and frowned. There were only 6 apartments and none were Marie Ansile's. There was a Marie Favre, apartment 2B. Could it be? Was she married? Illya quickly jimmied opened the front door, took the stairs two at a time to the second floor, found 2B and quietly jimmied that opened. He stepped inside and listened. Nothing. He slowly walked around. He saw some photos in frames on a table. One was of Marie in a wedding dress next to her husband, obviously. Both smiling. Another was worn and yellowed, of a smiling couple with a little girl between them. Her with her parents? The third left Illya stunned. It was of a small boy, perhaps 5 years old sitting on Marie's lap, both laughing.

Marie stopped walking when she felt a chill and realized she'd forgotten a sweater. She still had time before she had to meet Napoleon, so she turned back around and quickly headed home.

Illya didn't have to see anything else. He was certain Marie was hiding something other than being married and having a son. That was something a friend did not hide. But why? He was still staring at the pictures when he heard the key in the door. He hid behind the door, and when Marie walked in, he grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth.

"I am not here to hurt you...do not scream. I am a friend of Cowboy...Napoleon Solo. My name is Illya Kuryakin."

While he spoke, she was struggling to get free. But at hearing him say Napoleon's name, she stopped. He let her go. She turned to face him and frowned.

"You?! You were at the cafe!" She backed away. "What are you doing here? How do you know Napoleon? Why did you act like a tourist?"

"I am here to protect Napoleon." Illya found it strange not to call him Cowboy.

"From what?

"You tell me..." He went and got the pictures.

"Who is this?" He asked handing her the one of her wedding. Marie began to tremble. She looked up at Illya, a single tear streaming down her face.

"My husband, Tristan. He died in a car crash two years ago."

"And these?"

"My parents. Killed in the war. That..." She took the picture of her and the little boy and held it against her heart. "This is my son, Justin. He just turned 5."

"Where is he?"

Suddenly Marie could take no more. One last look into Illya's eyes, and her knees buckled and she fell into a dead faint.

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Someone was wiping her face with a cool cloth, repeating her name as she slowly opened her eyes. It was Napoleon. She was lying on the couch and he sat next to her. Illya was gone.

"Napoleon? What are you doing here? You mustn't be here!" She sat up.

"Shhh...It's all right. Peril came to get me and we snuck back in. Nobody saw us."

"Who is Peril?"

"Illya...it's his, a, code name..."

"I don't understand..."

"Neither do I...so how about you tell me what is going on. The truth. All of it. We can't help if you're not honest."

She couldn't help but grin.

"Now you sound like Sergeant Solo...and you're right. I cannot handle this alone. One thing I know, Napoleon, is you will always protect me..."

Illya suddenly appeared from the kitchen area. Both of them raised their brows at the same time.

"What? I came down from roof, in through fire escape in kitchen." He put out his hand to shake with Marie and said,

"We have not been properly introduced... Illya Kuryakin...and I am also here for your protection."

"Everything quiet out there?" Napoleon asked.

"So far. Nobody followed. I gave a good chase through park."

"A car chase, Peril?"

"Do not question my methods, Cowboy."

"Cowboy?" Marie asked with a smirk. Napoleon sighed.

"My code name. Now, will you please tell us what is going on?"

Marie took a deep breath, and said her story started about a week ago. It was a normal weekday; she kissed her son Justin good-bye and handed him over to her nanny, Denise. Denise would then walk him to his kindergarten class, pick him up in the afternoon, and stay with him at the apartment until Marie returned home. It's a routine they've done for months; and one that was being watched for the past few days, unbeknownst to Marie.

She took her usual route to the Louvre, a casual walk through the park. When she exited the park to cross the street, a black car blocked her way. The back door was opened and an arm grabbed her arm, pulled her in, and they drove. Marie, stunned, tried opening the door.

"It's locked from up front, Miss Ansile...relax and I will explain everything..." The man next to her had a bandana covering his face and a black coat and fedora. He spoke in French, so she did the same.

"What do you want?"

"I need you to contact a friend of yours... I need him in Paris as soon as possible."

"What friend? Who are you?"

That's when the man pulled off the bandana and removed his hat. Marie looked at him for a moment before she remembered the face.

"Messieur Pinet!? What are you doing? I thought you were in prison!"

Henri Pinet smiled. To Marie it looked sadistic; almost mad.

"I was released a short time ago; but that is neither here nor there...now listen carefully. I am not going to repeat this. I know you had an ongoing friendship with Sergeant Solo..."

Marie tried to interrupt, wanting to tell Pinet she lost touch with Napoleon.

"Shhh...Do not interrupt...now, I know you lost touch. I know he was in prison, and then he disappeared. But I did not lose touch. He is with some government organization-newly formed, quite off the radar...but, I digress. This is what you are going to do."

He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a paper.

"This is his number. You are to contact him and tell him you think you found a large cache of gold bullion in the catacombs. You trust only him to verify it is gold and that it is gold hidden by the Nazis. He must come to Paris now. When he gets here, and you get him into the catacombs the morning after he arrives..." He opened the paper. It was a crude map of a certain section of the catacombs.

"You take him here..." he pointed to a section Marie was familiar with. It was accessible by a manhole on a small side street outside the Eiffel Tower Park.

"You lead him in, and leave. I will do the rest."

"What are you planning, Messieur Pinet?"

"Why, I am planning to kill him."

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Napoleon started pacing, thinking. Illya sat next to Marie and took her shaking hand in his. She smiled at his kindness through tear-filled eyes.

"Napoleon...he then told me he had Denise and Justin. He said he would release them once he was finished with you. He said they were safe, well cared for. But if I don't do as he says, he would kill them both and drop their bodies on my doorstep. He said..." Marie let her tears flow unchecked.

"He said Justin cries for me..."

"Cowboy, nobody knows who I am. What if Marie gets me to the place and I wait?"

Napoleon stopped his pacing, sitting across from Marie.

"Why that particular place? Does it have any significance?"

"Yes. I asked Pinet...he laughed at me and said how stupid I was to be down in those catacombs and never finding the real cache. He said once you are dead, he is going to remove the share of gold the Nazis promised him for collaborating with them during the occupation."

"So he must have help..." Napoleon said. "The guy in the phone booth?"

Marie nodded. "His name is Hans Schmit. He will help Pinet in any way he can to see that his superiors get their gold, minus Pinets share."

"He told you all of this?" Illya asked. Marie nodded.

"He was quite gleeful. Almost mad how he spoke of his revenge...He blames Napoleon for his imprisonment, his loss of his family and friends...how he suffered degradation in the prison..."

The three were quiet, each with their own thoughts. Marie spoke softly.

"I don't think I can ever forgive myself for doing this to you, Napoleon...but my son..." She cried openly.

"My child was in danger..."

Napoleon pulled Marie into his arms, holding her as she cried.

"It's all right, Marie. Peril and I will figure something out."

He let her go, and turned to Illya. "Stay with her, okay? I'm going back to the hotel."

Illya chose not to question his reason.

"Go the way I did, Cowboy. She will be safe with me."

"Never doubted that, Peril..." He started for the kitchen, then turned and said, "Thanks."

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"Herr Pinet, Solo is still in the apartment. Do you want me to keep watch?" Hans Schmit was in the corner

phone booth.

"No. I see no reason. She will escort Solo to the site tomorrow like she was told. Once she leaves, you pick her up and take her to her son and sitter. Kill all three."

"...and after that?"

"Meet me at the site where the trucks are parked for loading the gold. I have men waiting. I will take my share. My job is done; the rest is up to you to get the trucks to Germany."

"I will be waiting tomorrow, Herr Pinet."