Sacrifices for the Greater Good
Mission VI
"You were very intimidating." Gaby murmured into Illya's chest. "I think he was impressed." She was a little surprised when he pulled her close, and leaned in as though to kiss her neck.
"Let me check they haven't bugged us." He whispered very quietly into her ear. "Then we can talk properly."
She stole a quick kiss, and set about cleaning up the mess that had been left behind as he carefully checked over the house. She was washing dishes when he reappeared with a towel to start drying up the items she left on the draining board.
"Anything?" He shook his head at her question.
"All clear. Only Solo's bugs are in the house. What did you think of the mark?" She leaned back against the counter thoughtfully, wiping her hands on a discarded piece of cloth.
"It wasn't an ideal first meeting, but I think we did well. He seems very protective of Rose, but I think the most interesting thing was how much control she had over him." Seeing the much smaller woman utterly command her father's behaviour had been a surprise, Rose had always seemed far too timid to wield such power.
"I agree." Illya replied pensively. "Do you think it's purely because of their family relationship or do you think she knows about his activities?" The thought hadn't occurred to her, and she thought over what she had learned about the other woman for a little while before she gave her response.
"From what she's told me, they seem really close. Especially since her mother's death." Gaby had noticed Rose always spoke of her father with exasperation tinged with affection. "Anyway, tonight has given me a good excuse to pry into her family situation a little tomorrow." She suggested. "I might offer to go meet her father to prove I'm not a psychopath and so he trusts me to be around his daughter."
"Yes, that might work."
"Anyway that's for another day." Gaby said, leaving the kitchen to look at the cavernous hole where the door used to be. "Any ideas about what we should do about that until the workmen arrive?"
True to Rose's word, the workmen arrived a few hours later and quickly began the work of fitting in a new door. The men looked a little irked to still be working at such a late time but they were still thorough and efficient, a likely sign of having been paid well for the inconvenience.
They had both stayed up to supervise, Gaby keeping the workers well supplied with coffee, conscious that they might report back to the Russells. Once the new door had been tested, they were left alone once again and both were quick to head to bed, Gaby more so since she had barely slept the previous night. When she woke up again, the bed was cold in the absence of her personal heater, and with a sigh of regret she rose and prepared for the day ahead.
Lunch with Rose was pleasant enough, although she had to admit her favourite part was being granted the opportunity to drive the other woman's expensive car. The offer had been made after the other woman had noticed the many longing glances Gaby send towards the vehicle and she had given a quick and enthusiastic 'yes' in response before promptly showing Rose exactly what her car could do when in expert hands. She half-thought that the offer was likely made out of guilt, Rose had been extremely apologetic about her father's behaviour, often citing his recent bout of paranoia as an excuse.
"What is he so worried about?" Gaby had asked, and after a moment of consideration Rose had leaned in close as though to confide a secret.
"One of his business partners stole money from him. He's been trying to track him down but he's just disappeared." It was a confirmation of what the informant had said, and it made Gaby feel more confident that the FBI had the correct man.
"How awful." She had sympathised before Rose abruptly changed the topic of conversation to some new singer Gaby had never heard of. To her surprise, Rose declined her offer to meet her father and prove her trustworthiness, but the other woman had a strange little smile as she did so, making Gaby wonder whether or not she already had something planned.
She found out exactly why Rose had declined later that evening when there was a knocking on the new door shortly after her and Illya had eaten dinner. She had risen to answer it, but a large hand on her shoulder pushed her back into her chair and Illya instead went to the entrance. She heard him cordially- if a little coldly- greet someone and after a brief exchange she heard the door shut and the sound of two sets of footsteps heading in her direction.
"Gaby we have a guest." Illya announced. "I'm sure you remember George Russell from yesterday's incident." The man had the courtesy to look slightly ashamed at the abrupt reminder.
"I do deeply apologise for my behaviour. Rose gave me the riot act when we got home and made me realise that I did overreact badly." George said, his gaze critically taking in his surroundings. Gaby could guess that he was estimating the worth of all their furniture and finding it short of expectation.
"Rose explained you've been dealing with some difficulties recently." She supplied as delicately as she could, and he nodded without surprise that she had been told such details about his current troubles.
"Yes that is true, but I should not have taken out my anger on you both." He paused. "I am glad to see that Rosie has managed to make a friend, that poor girl has always been a bit of a loner and not by choice. You have been very good to her, indulging her shopping trips and fixing her car. I hope my actions have not affected your friendship."
"I'm not scared off that easily." Gaby stated, accidentally letting her gaze drift to Illya before she snapped back to attention. George nodded approvingly.
"Good." He turned now to Illya. "I have to admit," he said looking over the larger man's frame, "I'm glad I didn't try to start a fight. I thought I was a big man but you're huge, did you play football?" Illya nodded in confirmation. "What position?"
"Linebacker."
This answer seemed to please George as he rapidly started up a discussion about football that sounded like utter gibberish to Gaby. Illya at least seemed to understand him and replied at length on the subject. She couldn't help but be amazed at how extensive his knowledge seemed to be, but even as she admired how much he had committed to his cover story she found her eyes glazing over as they both droned on over the subject. As she was reaching the pinnacle of boredom, the conversation was miraculously interrupted by the sound of the phone ringing.
"Excuse me, I was expecting a call from my boss." Illya said and left to answer the phone. They only had one in the house and it was located in the kitchen, so his task left Gaby alone with the potential head of a crime group.
"My daughter tells me that your husband is a military man." George noted after Illya had left the room.
"He was." She replied.
"Ah, I see." He didn't sound surprised, and she wondered if her confession to Rose had been passed on. "She also said that you made some excellent lemonade yesterday."
"I still have half a jug left, would you like some?" She picked up on the hint, and found herself questioning his motivations. It seemed strangely coincidental that he was trying to send her away at the same time as Illya was out of the room.
"I am parched." He admitted. "A glass would be wonderful."
Gaby gave him a quick smile and departed, joining Illya in the kitchen. Still listening to someone on the phone, Illya caught her eye and mouthed 'Napoleon' to her. She moved close to him, and leaned up to whisper in his ear.
"I think George is bugging us."
Illya nodded in response, not looking surprised at her assumption. With the information delivered, she returned to the task at hand and headed back into the sitting room to give George the drink. He was sitting quite innocently on the couch, and if she had been in any other profession she would have had no reason to suspect him of anything.
"Thank you." He took the drink with a smile and sipped at it. "Very good, just as good as American lemonade." He paused to eye her critically. "You are not American?"
"German." She replied.
"East or West?" There was a dangerous lilt to his voice in the question.
"West." He seemed reassured by her answer, and she wondered what his reaction would have been to the truth.
"Is that how you met your husband?"
"Yes, he was stationed there." Illya made his return just as George began to rant about the state of affairs over the wall, Gaby making all the appropriate sounds and carefully watching Illya's expression as George started spewing vitriol about Russia. By his deceptively calm expression, she guessed that he had prepared mentally to deal with an onslaught of uncomplimentary comments about his home and he managed not to betray how he was actually feeling.
"Ah you're back. Good." George said, halting his speech as he noticed Illya's return. "Now you're both here again, I can make my offer. I still feel terrible about what happened yesterday, and I would like to invite you both to dinner to make up for it. I will pay of course, and I will not hear anything to the contrary."
"That is very generous." Gaby said eventually, after the news had sunk in.
"We accept." Illya added.
"Very good, I'll send my driver to pick you up next week. I'm taking you somewhere high end, make sure you dress appropriately." And with those words he left the house, allowing Illya to escort him to the door.
While the two men were gone, Gaby carefully examined the room and found a bulky device hidden behind the couch, cementing her suspicions. Illya's bugs had improved in quality and decreased in size since Rome, this device was definitely not of his making. The fact that they had been bugged was potentially a good sign, it at least meant that George was at least taking an interest in them. It was possible that it was at the moment entirely a precaution due to her friendship with his daughter, but such an interest might eventually lead to accomplishing their objective. Still it meant that now they would have to stick fully with their covers in work and in 'private', and she felt a slight burst of annoyance at this realisation.
When Illya eventually re-joined her, she let a small smirk light up her face and without giving him the slightest bit of warning she jumped on him, pushing him slightly off balance. Since Rome he had become oddly used to her sudden attacks, so the blow only staggered him slightly before he straightened up and his arms moved to hold her in place. She was wrapped around him like a pretzel, her legs anchored around his hips.
"Hi." She said with a grin. "Are you feeling particularly tired today?" If George was going to bug them and ruin what little privacy they had, she was going to make damn sure he suffered as a result. Napoleon would just have to make sure he turned off his listening devices once he realised what they were doing.
The week passed more slowly than either of them wanted. Illya was starting to get anxious to get the mission completed as quickly as possible so they could go home, and she felt the same. Playing happy families was all well and good, but the artificiality of it was getting quite grating, especially now she had to be extra careful to call him by his cover name. They were playing caricatures, and Gaby was sick of pretending to be the cloyingly nice housewife just as much as Illya hated to be an outgoing and optimistic if slightly stupid construction worker. He wanted to sit alone in a silent room playing chess, and she wanted to get drunk and fight with someone (probably him) so she could vent some steam.
Eventually the night they were due to have dinner with George Russell came around, and Gaby found herself playfully swatting Illya's hands away as she fixed his tie. Since he didn't bring a suit with him they had requested some extra money in order to buy him a cheap suit for the evening. Luckily, she hadn't needed anything since she still had the pretty green dress Rose had bought for her and Illya certainly seemed to approve if his wandering hands were any indication.
"Stop it!" She laughed. "You can take it off when we get back." The little moments of affection were also slightly tainted by the mission. It was more difficult to know if a gesture of love or lust was genuine when both parties were fully aware that somebody might be listening in to every little word. She wondered even now if they were purposely exaggerating this exchange for the benefit of the eavesdroppers. The sound of a car horn caught their attention and they both straightened up, mirth gone and the focus returned to the mission.
At dinner, Gaby was not surprised to see that George had brought his daughter along with him. Although it did irk her when she realised that the women in the party were clearly meant to discuss 'womanly' things while the two men talked politics. For the sake of the mission, Illya was pretending to support the same political party as the mark and thus was framing all his responses with that slant. Any time Gaby tried to join in with their talk, Rose carefully coaxed her back into a conversation about shoes or something equally inane and by the time after dinner coffees were served, she felt close to breaking point.
"I have to admit, I have an ulterior motive for this meeting." George said, and to her surprise she saw that the permanent smile he had worn all evening had suddenly disappeared and he once again resembled the man that had broken down their door.
"And what is that?" Gaby asked, she was concerned that their cover was blown but knew that if it had he would likely have sent people to kill them rather than take them to a public area. Although, she noted looking around, the booth they were in was very isolated and several feet away from anyone else. George ignored her question, looking solely at Illya.
"I have friends high up, they managed to get your file to me. You were dishonourably discharged for violence." Relief sets in briefly, and Gaby is quick to jump to her husband's defence.
"He was provoked." Again, George didn't pay her the slightest bit of attention, and she badly wanted to hurl insults at him until he realised he couldn't brush her off so easily. Remembering her role, she held her tongue and listened as he continued to speak.
"I don't I want someone prone to violence spending time around my daughter." His sensibilities were so ridiculous, when considering that he was suspected of running a criminal organisation, and Gaby felt her eyes involuntarily bulge in disbelief at his statement. Stealing a look over at Illya she saw that he was not yet prepared for a rebuttal, it had not been an assault he was expecting and it was taking some time for him to think up a solution that would frame him in a favourable light.
"Well I for one do not appreciate you making accusations and refusing to listen to an explanation." Gaby told him coldly, doing her best to buy him some time while she too frantically tried to come up with a solution.
"Please enlighten me." George finally turned to her. "Your husband seems to be struggling at the moment." She caught Illya's hand under the table and gave it a quick squeeze before turning her gaze to look George directly in the eye as she delivered her succinct explanation.
"Before we got married, one of his superiors called me a whore who was just trying to move to the USA." She said, ignoring the gasp from Rose that her language elicited. "Charlie does not cope well with people insulting me. Is that clear enough for you?"
"Crystal." George responded, and his entire demeanour changed from intimidating back to friendly. "That changes things, I can respect punching someone for insulting your woman." He turned back to Illya as he spoke, sounding approving. "It seems I owe you a second apology, but I'm sure you can forgive a man just looking out for his daughter's interests. You'll understand better when you have children of your own, they bring with them an intense need to protect them at all costs."
The tension across the table dissolved at George abruptly changed the topic of the conversation to how lovely both women looked that night. Gaby took the compliments with a slightly strained smile and stopped by the bar to down two vodka shots on her way to the ladies restroom.
Author's Note: I know nothing about American football, I literally googled positions on the team and chose the one that sounded like it needed someone of Illya's size and strength.