On the Road Affair Chapter 3:6
On an affair in Milwaukee Wi the agents deal with Thrush, beer, and a motorcycle gang. Thanks to yelizaveta52 for her Beta work.
Chapter 1 http://mfu-scrapbook.livejournal.com/768597.html
Chapter 2 http://mfu-canteen.livejournal.com/964434.html
Chapter 3
Napoleon knocked on the bedroom window that faced the back of the motel. Unlocking it, Illya left him in.
"You heard?"
"They didn't take long to get to contact you. My guess is they're ready to run with the formula as soon as they get it."
"I agree. Have we heard from Jo yet?"
"No, but if she's with the gang I don't think we'll hear from her until you meet them to give them the formula."
"I gave the film of the safe contents to our contact. They will have to make the changes quickly."
"It will take at least tomorrow night to get it done and you're supposed to meet them in the evening. What do you plan to do?"
"I will give them a hard luck story. Hopefully that will cause their leader come out in the open."
"They won't be happy, tovarisch."
"Napoleon will you stop being such a babushka. I can take care of myself."
"I'm not your grandmother. I just don't like seeing them using you as a punching bag."
"Neither do I my friend."
The next evening Illya entered the bar called the Railroad Connection on Stewart Street and Kinnickinnic Avenue where the music group, The Shags, was playing their own hard rock sound. A regular biker hangout, the group he was to meet was sitting in the corner.
The UNCLE agents didn't know whom belonged to Thrush in the gang, so they were unsure whom they could trust or even at this time whom the undercover cop was. Neither liked going into a situation without complete knowledge but for the time being they would have to improvise.
Entering the bar without his gun, knowing that they might search him, he was happy to see Napoleon partially hidden in a dark corner of the bar. The small microphone in his ear was invisible, so everything they talked about could be heard.
Slowly Illya approached the loud table, a look of fear on his face.
"I am here as you instructed," he said softly.
"Sit down little man, we don't bite," Greenwald ordered pulling another chair over with his foot. "Hey barkeep, bring us a beer for our friend here."
"That is alright, I do not drink," Illya said fussing with his glasses giving the impression that he didn't know what to do with his hands.
Slapping him on the back, the biker grinned, "Hey man, we're just having a drink with friends. You want to be our pal, don't you? Right guys." He said including the rest of those at the table.
Laughing and backslapping began, while Illya attempted to look even smaller.
"Give the doc a beer," he yelled to the bartender.
"You won't insult us by not drinking with us would you, doc."
After the beer was placed before Illya, the gang watched as he picked it up sipping it.
"No, no doc. You down it all at once."
Lifting the glass, Illya drank it down as directed. He pretended to choke after placing the glass on the table.
"Hey you did that nicely. Now doc, I believe you've information for us."
Gulping Illya said quietly, "I did not have time to get it yet. Please I need another few days."
The quiet was immediate, Greenwald grabbed his shirt. "What did you say?"
Beginning to shake and repeated, "I could not get it yet and need a few more days."
Although concerned, Napoleon grinned as he listened in. His partner could put on a good act when called for.
Letting go of the shirt, the biker looked at the man next to him, "Call the boss, he's going to want to deal with this one himself."
Illya sat silently, head down pulling apart a napkin nervously. He'd be meeting the boss, which was his goal.
When the biker returned, he said, "Boss will be here is fifteen minutes. He said to keep this one on ice till he gets here." With that, they ignored the man sitting with them.
Looking around timidly to see how many others were in the bar, he saw another large group of bikers and other customers. Illya knew he'd need to move from the bar area to keep innocents from being hurt should they decide to get rough.
Timing it so that only five minutes remained before their leader was to arrive, he stood up.
"Where do you think you're going?" Greenwald demanded placing his hand on Illya's arm stopping him from rising.
"I need to use the restroom," he answered barely above a whisper.
"Go with him, Snake," indicating a large biker at the end of the table. "Don't want him to get lost."
Illya hurried toward the bathroom causing Napoleon to become more alert. He knew he couldn't go help his friend until the gang leader was identified. His only hope was that Illya would be okay until then.
After coming out of the stall, Illya stood washing his hands, when he heard the door opening. He saw the others member of the gang entering the bathroom so began to look around as if trying to find another way out of the room.
Realizing that he couldn't defend himself, he'd have to accept the beating they'd would be handing out. He stiffened as he felt the hand on his shoulder but allowed himself to be turned around while bracing for the punch he realized was coming.
"You worthless shit looking for a way out. We told you to get the papers, and you didn't do it."
"I was not looking for a way out, and I just could not get into the safe," he whined. How he hated these roles but promised himself that once this was over, he would return every insult he received at their hands.
One of the bikers held his hands behind his back while the other used his stomach for a punching bag. He didn't hear the door open until he recognized the voice speaking.
"Do not hurt that pretty face," he heard a familiar female voice say.
The two men stopped to look at Chet McCall and the girl hanging on him. She let go of Chet walking toward the man they were holding up.
"I told you to hold him here, not beat him," Chet angry voice rang out.
"But boss, we thought we'd soften him up for you besides he was looking for a way out," Greenwald said.
"That's your problem, you didn't think. We'll discuss this later," he said waving the man away.
He approached the scientist that the men were holding up and pulled up his head up by the hair. "Little man, you've disappointed me. I expected the papers today. It wasn't polite to try and leave before I got here." He let go of his hair allowing Illya's head to drop back on his chest as the girl reached him.
"I was not trying to leave," Illya said softly.
Walking around the frightened man, the girl ran her hand over his face and though his hair. "Such a pretty face, I would not want to see it messed up. Why did you not do as they ask? They are not your papers are they?"
Illya slowly lifted his head looking up at his sister. The tight black leather pants and halter-top were accented with gold chains. Her ratted hair added height and knee high, black boots finished her outfit. He gave her a hopeful smile.
"I cannot get what they ask for until tomorrow, he did not give me enough time."
"See Chat he only needs another day. Surely we can give him that," she said wrapping herself around her brother.
The motorcycle leader smiled, "And Jo, what will you do for me if I give him the time?"
She smiled returning to the leader, "Name it."
"Later, you have another day little man. Next time you won't be so lucky. I think he has an idea of what will happen if he doesn't do as ordered. Send him on his way."
Chet headed toward the door with Jo hanging on him, but before they were able to follow his directions the door opened.
"Excuse me, am I interrupting something?" Napoleon asked thick glasses hiding his face. "I just need to use the rest room. Oh my goodness, a woman."
"No, we're just leaving," Chat said. With a nod, the gang left the room after allowing their prisoner to fall to the ground.
As they walked pass the intruder, she ran her hands over the man's face, "This one isn't bad either," then left the room
Chapter 1 http://mfu-scrapbook.livejournal.com/768597.html
Chapter 2 http://mfu-canteen.livejournal.com/964434.html
Chapter 3
Napoleon knocked on the bedroom window that faced the back of the motel. Unlocking it, Illya left him in.
"You heard?"
"They didn't take long to get to contact you. My guess is they're ready to run with the formula as soon as they get it."
"I agree. Have we heard from Jo yet?"
"No, but if she's with the gang I don't think we'll hear from her until you meet them to give them the formula."
"I gave the film of the safe contents to our contact. They will have to make the changes quickly."
"It will take at least tomorrow night to get it done and you're supposed to meet them in the evening. What do you plan to do?"
"I will give them a hard luck story. Hopefully that will cause their leader come out in the open."
"They won't be happy, tovarisch."
"Napoleon will you stop being such a babushka. I can take care of myself."
"I'm not your grandmother. I just don't like seeing them using you as a punching bag."
"Neither do I my friend."
The next evening Illya entered the bar called the Railroad Connection on Stewart Street and Kinnickinnic Avenue where the music group, The Shags, was playing their own hard rock sound. A regular biker hangout, the group he was to meet was sitting in the corner.
The UNCLE agents didn't know whom belonged to Thrush in the gang, so they were unsure whom they could trust or even at this time whom the undercover cop was. Neither liked going into a situation without complete knowledge but for the time being they would have to improvise.
Entering the bar without his gun, knowing that they might search him, he was happy to see Napoleon partially hidden in a dark corner of the bar. The small microphone in his ear was invisible, so everything they talked about could be heard.
Slowly Illya approached the loud table, a look of fear on his face.
"I am here as you instructed," he said softly.
"Sit down little man, we don't bite," Greenwald ordered pulling another chair over with his foot. "Hey barkeep, bring us a beer for our friend here."
"That is alright, I do not drink," Illya said fussing with his glasses giving the impression that he didn't know what to do with his hands.
Slapping him on the back, the biker grinned, "Hey man, we're just having a drink with friends. You want to be our pal, don't you? Right guys." He said including the rest of those at the table.
Laughing and backslapping began, while Illya attempted to look even smaller.
"Give the doc a beer," he yelled to the bartender.
"You won't insult us by not drinking with us would you, doc."
After the beer was placed before Illya, the gang watched as he picked it up sipping it.
"No, no doc. You down it all at once."
Lifting the glass, Illya drank it down as directed. He pretended to choke after placing the glass on the table.
"Hey you did that nicely. Now doc, I believe you've information for us."
Gulping Illya said quietly, "I did not have time to get it yet. Please I need another few days."
The quiet was immediate, Greenwald grabbed his shirt. "What did you say?"
Beginning to shake and repeated, "I could not get it yet and need a few more days."
Although concerned, Napoleon grinned as he listened in. His partner could put on a good act when called for.
Letting go of the shirt, the biker looked at the man next to him, "Call the boss, he's going to want to deal with this one himself."
Illya sat silently, head down pulling apart a napkin nervously. He'd be meeting the boss, which was his goal.
When the biker returned, he said, "Boss will be here is fifteen minutes. He said to keep this one on ice till he gets here." With that, they ignored the man sitting with them.
Looking around timidly to see how many others were in the bar, he saw another large group of bikers and other customers. Illya knew he'd need to move from the bar area to keep innocents from being hurt should they decide to get rough.
Timing it so that only five minutes remained before their leader was to arrive, he stood up.
"Where do you think you're going?" Greenwald demanded placing his hand on Illya's arm stopping him from rising.
"I need to use the restroom," he answered barely above a whisper.
"Go with him, Snake," indicating a large biker at the end of the table. "Don't want him to get lost."
Illya hurried toward the bathroom causing Napoleon to become more alert. He knew he couldn't go help his friend until the gang leader was identified. His only hope was that Illya would be okay until then.
After coming out of the stall, Illya stood washing his hands, when he heard the door opening. He saw the others member of the gang entering the bathroom so began to look around as if trying to find another way out of the room.
Realizing that he couldn't defend himself, he'd have to accept the beating they'd would be handing out. He stiffened as he felt the hand on his shoulder but allowed himself to be turned around while bracing for the punch he realized was coming.
"You worthless shit looking for a way out. We told you to get the papers, and you didn't do it."
"I was not looking for a way out, and I just could not get into the safe," he whined. How he hated these roles but promised himself that once this was over, he would return every insult he received at their hands.
One of the bikers held his hands behind his back while the other used his stomach for a punching bag. He didn't hear the door open until he recognized the voice speaking.
"Do not hurt that pretty face," he heard a familiar female voice say.
The two men stopped to look at Chet McCall and the girl hanging on him. She let go of Chet walking toward the man they were holding up.
"I told you to hold him here, not beat him," Chet angry voice rang out.
"But boss, we thought we'd soften him up for you besides he was looking for a way out," Greenwald said.
"That's your problem, you didn't think. We'll discuss this later," he said waving the man away.
He approached the scientist that the men were holding up and pulled up his head up by the hair. "Little man, you've disappointed me. I expected the papers today. It wasn't polite to try and leave before I got here." He let go of his hair allowing Illya's head to drop back on his chest as the girl reached him.
"I was not trying to leave," Illya said softly.
Walking around the frightened man, the girl ran her hand over his face and though his hair. "Such a pretty face, I would not want to see it messed up. Why did you not do as they ask? They are not your papers are they?"
Illya slowly lifted his head looking up at his sister. The tight black leather pants and halter-top were accented with gold chains. Her ratted hair added height and knee high, black boots finished her outfit. He gave her a hopeful smile.
"I cannot get what they ask for until tomorrow, he did not give me enough time."
"See Chat he only needs another day. Surely we can give him that," she said wrapping herself around her brother.
The motorcycle leader smiled, "And Jo, what will you do for me if I give him the time?"
She smiled returning to the leader, "Name it."
"Later, you have another day little man. Next time you won't be so lucky. I think he has an idea of what will happen if he doesn't do as ordered. Send him on his way."
Chet headed toward the door with Jo hanging on him, but before they were able to follow his directions the door opened.
"Excuse me, am I interrupting something?" Napoleon asked thick glasses hiding his face. "I just need to use the rest room. Oh my goodness, a woman."
"No, we're just leaving," Chat said. With a nod, the gang left the room after allowing their prisoner to fall to the ground.
As they walked pass the intruder, she ran her hands over the man's face, "This one isn't bad either," then left the room