It was a warm summer night in East Berlin. The air was thick and quiet, the crickets themselves held their breath, watching, waiting with the man in the shadows. Two sharp blue eyes glared steadily at the chop shop across the street, as if by shear force of will those eyes could penetrate the wooden barrier and gaze upon the subjects within. Had the targets waited much longer perhaps such a feat would have been achieved so intense was the glare. As fate would have it, the targets did not wait. A black car pulled out of the shop, the Teller girl at the wheel…seemingly by herself. But East Berlin was full of peril and that night the peril was red with fierce blue eyes that gazed through the car and it's single occupant, and rested on the American CIA agent lying in the back seat.
Illya Kuryakin's heart held a steady rhythm as he moved into his car and pulled out behind them. While he couldn't technically see into the backseat of the car, years of KGB training had sharpened his senses to the point where he could be certain without a doubt that there were two bodies in that car rather than the advertised one. The American had clearly come there for the same purpose as he had. To bring in the Teller girl. Kuryakin's foot pushed down steadily on the gas pedal, they were the only to vehicles on the streets that night. Alone together in the dark. If these two weren't idiots they would realize very shortly that they were being followed.
When the reached the stoplight Kuryakin pulled up on the right side of the car. The Teller girl from the chop shop was aware of him. Not bothering to hide his purpose, he stared intently into the car willing her to look at him. Once he got her to meet his iron gaze the game would be up, the little girl would loose her nerve. He could already see the soft brown eyes mirroring those of a petrified bunny or startled deer, she would panic, inevitably making a mistake.
Observing her small tanned hands holding the wheel confidently and yet tensely Kuryakin was almost impressed by how calmly she held herself while attempting to casually answer the American's questions about him. "How many where there? Looking at us? Both hands on the wheel?" He knew the drill… Her brown eyes were bright with anticipation, but he could discern no obvious tremors. On her third glance at him, their eyes finally met, for the space of a heart beat, but rather than dread terror or even simple fear, Kuryakin watched the brown globes set in a mixture of apprehension and determination.
Any second now….(pling!) and….(pling) there it was. Waiting on the roar of the car taking off, Kuryakin lay back in his seat. The first bullet was a close shot from the rear of the car, he knew the American couldn't hit him without sitting up and would likely fire a first shot to throw his game off and then quickly maneuver for a second, lethal shot. The second he heard the first crack on the glass, his KGB training took over and he flung himself back to avoid the following shot. And then the chase was on.