The Man from U.N.C.L.E: Operation Istanbul

Chapter 9

Napoleon spat out a gush of water. As he regained his vision with each blink, Napoleon was confronted with Illya's wet face. He could see the Russian's frown deepen. A thunder of deep throaty laughter followed soon after. Napoleon felt pressure on his chest, and looked down to find Illya's huge hands on his heart. Napoleon's mouth felt dry, but his lips were moist, as if someone had been breathing into it.

"Please don't tell me you did what I think you did."

Illya averted his eyes from the American and mumbled angrily,"Don't ever tell Gaby." For a moment, even Napoleon was lost for words. The crew snickered; Illya silenced them with a vicious look in his eyes. He hollered something in Russian and the crew returned to their positions on the control pit.

"Did you just threaten to have all of them sent to the Gulag?"

"Maybe." Napoleon took a proper look at his surroundings. The submarine was lit only by a faint red light; he could feel the rumble of the engine. He also noticed the package was no longer in his hands.

"Now, where is it?" he thought aloud.

"I took the liberty of opening it." Illya took the files from a chair, and shoved it at Napoleon. As Napoleon held it out like a book, Illya flipped the pages and pointed at the photo of a man, he looked small and thin with deep set eyes that made him appear sickly.

"This is the one who attacked me," Illya proclaimed.

"Samson Ashkenazy, joined Mossad at its inception in 1948, black belt in Krav Maga. Known for his use of pressure points. Are you telling me you got beaten by someone smaller than you?"

"When I chased after him in the air vent, we got out and ended up an empty room. Then, we fought. He wasn't even trying. He took a couple of jabs at me and I could barely breath." Napoleon decided to take Illya's word for it. They glanced at the second file. Napoleon skimmed through it, and read out the main points.

"Solomon Kasher, also joined in 1948, PhD in Chemistry, specialises in toxicology, the best knife fighter in Jerusalem." Napoleon glanced at both of their photos again and noted, "They do look like the two men who have been following us since day one. This is interesting. They both came from Bratislava, then part of Czechoslovakia. Their fathers defended the Jewish neighborhood from anti-Semitic gangs in the late 1930s. In 1944, they joined Aliyah Bet to protect Jewish refugees making their journey to Israel."

"How is that important?" Illya questioned with a raised brow.

"It shows that they're not scumbags like us," Napoleon said, betraying a proud tone in his voice, "Take corrupt government official as a father, for example."

"Or an Irish janitor," Illya retorted. Napoleon gave him a fierce look, there were traces of a smirk on Illya's face as he remarked,"I did a bit more research into your past since Rome."

"Then what's my real first name?"

"Dick."

"Wrong."

"You look like a Dick."

"That's quite eloquent coming from you, Peril." Napoleon said with a forced smile. He flicked his fingers through the pages, his brows furrowed. "There's something missing. There's supposed to be a third person."

"This is the last file but it's not a person."

"That doesn't make sense."

Napoleon thought back to his conversation with Salome on the phone earlier in the morning.

"Now, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing, but I think I can do something for you, gramps."

"I'm listening."

"Mossad did put forward the mission once they had found out about Knight's true identity, but it was never approved."

"So you're saying Mossad's going rouge."

"Exactly, and if what you've been saying is true, they have to be stopped at all costs. I can recall two names: Samson Ashkenazy and Solomon Kasher."

"Which one of them is Mossad's most lethal?"

There was a long pause.

"Salome?"

"That's someone else entirely. They call him Azazel. But be careful, Bonaparte. If Azazel is on this mission I doubt even you will be able to stop him."

Napoleon snapped back to the present as Illya read out the last file, "Project Azazel: an elite training program for orphans to be recruited into Mossad. Training was reported to be gruelling. Only one child survived."

"Is there any more information on this kid?"

"He disappears from all the records after that. But there is a link, Ashkenazy and Kasher were supervisors on the program."

"So, they know the true identity of Azazel."

"We're spies not detectives, Cowboy."

"I guess you're right. We only need to get rid of this mystery. Speaking of mysteries how did you get on a Russian submarine?"

"After you and Gaby left, I intercepted a transmission that said a submarine was approaching Ataturk Bridge. So, took a taxi to the bridge and jumped. They were nice enough to pick me up and take here."

"By nice enough, you mean scared enough."

"More or less."

A junior cabin boy blurted out, "Everyone knows Illya Kuryakin."

"You should have stayed in the hotel room," It didn't take much to tell that Illya looked worn out, he didn't hold his shoulders as high as he normally. Illya felt a pang of headache over come him and plopped into the seat with a thud.

"But it's the Russian way!"

"Then, you shouldn't have chased after that agent by yourself." Illya was about to open his mouth, "And don't tell me that was the Russian way! You worried Gaby so much...which reminds me, Gaby probably thinks I'm dead."

"Where is she?"

"She'll be fine. I lent her my gun."

"And you're sure Mossad didn't follow you."

"Absolutely."

A gunshot rang.