The Good Agent Affair Chapter 3This is a featured page

Robert Vaughn and Ronnie Burns 1956Written By: Solo’s Girl

Warning: Mild Het. Adult situations and language.


Chapter 3
“Mr. Waverly’s Warning.”

Aaron and Napoleon came back to their seats just as Vasara arrived. She looked at Aaron’s bruises.

“What in the world happened?” she asked open mouthed.

“I was coming back from the dining car and my shoe got caught in the safety plates,” he said quickly, “If Naps hadn’t come out there I might have lost my foot.”

“I’ll go and get some drinks,” Napoleon said.

Vasara reached over and took hold of his shirt sleeve.

“I don’t think you should risk it,” she said pulling him back to the seat.

Napoleon sat down.


Washington DC.

Vasara, Aaron and Napoleon stood in the grand hall of Union Station. Two red caps came up with carts loaded with the steamer trunks and luggage that had been across the aisle from them..

“All of that was yours?” Napoleon said pointing.

He and Aaron looked down at their two ratty suitcases and shrugged. Vasara laughed.

“So have you guys thought over what I said?” she asked.

“About working for the company you work for?” Solo said.

“Yes. I think you would both be a perfect fit,” Vasara said her face suddenly blushing as she looked at Napoleon.

Aaron looked over at his partner. Just what had happened on the train he thought to himself.

“Sounds alright with me,” Aaron said, “What about you Naps?”

“What have we got to lose? I guess we could check it out,” was the reply.

Vasara took a small note book out of her handbag and quickly flipped thru the pages to a blank. She jotted down the address and a phone number. Ripping the paper from the book she handed it to Napoleon.

“Terrific. About eight-am then. Give me a call before you head out so I can meet you at the gate. You fellows have a place to stay already?”

“Yes. We’re booked in at the Americana Motor Lodge, just on the edge of DC,” Aaron said.

Napoleon slipped the paper into his pocket and looked at the woman.

“Separate rooms?” she said hopefully.

“No, unfortunately,” Solo said giving her a wink.

“Unfortunately for me,” Aaron said sarcastically, “He snores. Use to keep the entire dormitory up.”

He gave Solo a light shove.

Napoleon rolled his eyes.


The Americana Motor Lodge, Washington DC.

“Yes sir,” Napoleon said, “We are going to meet her there tomorrow.”

“Excellent Agent Solo,” Waverly said, “Stay on your toes, gentlemen.”

“Yes sir. We were going to go out and do some scouting…” Aaron said.

“A good idea,” Waverly said, “But if she knows you will be there tomorrow, THRUSH may have someone watching you right now.”

There was a knock on the door.

Aaron and Napoleon looked at one another. Aaron took the radio and slipped just inside the bathroom door. Napoleon checked his gun and walked to the door. He looked thru the small peep-hole. No-one was there. He was about to turn away when there came another knock.

“Yes,” Napoleon said loudly.

“Napoleon? It’s me. Vasara.”

Solo hesitantly opened the door a crack keeping the safety chain intact. He looked out.

“Vasara? What on earth are you doing here?” Solo asked.

Her hand reached in through the crack in the door and brushed down the front of his shirt.

“You promised to make it up to me when we got to DC,” she said seductively, “Well, we’re in DC.”

“Let me get my coat,” he said smiling.

He carefully moved her arm back and closed the door. Napoleon picked up his jacket and slipped his smaller gun into the lining. He told Mr. Waverly what was happening.

“Good Agent Solo, but be careful. No telling what this woman has in mind,” the Chief said.

Napoleon walked over and opened the door. Vasara could see Aaron laying on one of the two beds, presumably asleep. He yawned, rolled over and listened.

“I thought we might go for a walk along the riverfront. Then maybe to my place for a while” Vasara said pulling Solo into a passionate kiss, “I want to find out if you really do snore.”

They walked out; Napoleon made sure the door was locked before he followed her down to the end of the motor-court. They disappeared around the corner, heading for the river-walk.


The river park walkway was mislaid asphalt, full of bumps and dips, difficult to maneuver during the day even harder at night. The city had installed a low iron railing that ran parallel to the walkway on the river side. It started at the bridge that connected Washington to Virginia and ran the entire three quarters of a mile to the first boat rental area. Here people who were brave enough to go out on the Potomac could rent a small rowboat or kayak for a few hours. But now the business was closed for the night and the only other people around were a few vagrants who used the moored boats to sleep in.

They had been walking for several minutes when Vasara stopped and leaned against the wrought iron railing. She saw Napoleon silhouetted against one of the street lamps and gave her lip a soft bite. She had found many handsome young men for THRUSH but this one was different. There was something about him she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She looked back over her shoulder then turned to look across the water.

Just on the other side of the river dimly lit and much of the structure blocked by trees was the THRUSH satrap. Solo took in as much as was within his sight. The large warehouse was well guarded as he saw two men at one end and another two at the side. Stands to reason he thought that the other two sides are double guarded as well. He could just make out several pieces of heavy equipment, including a ditch-digger and a bulldozer near the end of the large building. He stepped up behind her.

“Well,” she said, “There it is.”

Napoleon nuzzled the back of her neck, running his fingers through her silky hair. He gave the strands a soft sniff and sighed. His hands slipped around her and he gave her body a squeeze.

“There what is?” he asked though not showing much enthusiasm for anything other than her.

Vasara laughed softly and pressed back against him.

“Silly, there across the river,” she said laughing as he picked her up and gave her a twill in his arms, “I think we should have gone to my place first….Napoleon!”

He stood her back on the path and looked at her.

“Okay. What is it I’m supposed to be looking at?”

She reached up and gently took hold of his face. Vasara gave it a turn and one hand moved away pointing across the river.

“There!” she said smiling.

“Looks like a prison,” Solo said nonchalantly.

“How would you know what a prison looks like?”

“We all do something at some point in our lives we regret,” Solo said.

Vasara looked into his eyes. Even in the low light of the street lamps and the light reflecting off the river she saw something that made her heart skip a beat.

“Let’s go, Napoleon,” she said giving his arm a tug.


Aaron was only a few yards behind them near the rowboat rental pier. He waited until they started walking away before moving down the bank to the water. The young agent slipped his knife from his pocket and cut a mooring line releasing one of the boats. As he climbed inside he gave a sharp push off from the pier sending the boat off into the water. The boat was narrow enough that he could lay low and use his hands to row across the river. It was a slow process but effective. He drifted a bit then rowed some more, keeping the splashing to a minimum.

Finally the bow of the boat connected with the rocky shoreline. There was a thud of metal on rock that was just audible enough to draw attention from one of the guards. Dobson slipped over the edge into the water just as a beam of light caught the boat.

“Somebody down there?” the guard shouted.

There was no reply.

A second man stepped up and used his flashlight to check out the boat.

“Look on the side,” the second man said, “It’s from that rental place up the river. The mooring line must have come loose…..See it’s just hanging in the water.”

“Should we send someone out to retrieve it?”

“No. The tide will pull it back out. Get back to your post.”

The two men turned and walked back to the warehouse.

Dobson made his way slowly out of the cold slimy water onto the rocks. He pulled the waterproof bag from his survival gear out and made his way into the tree line. Removing the tiny camera he began to photograph everything he could. He checked out the high fence. Dobson reached out towards the steel wire.

A fair sized rabbit suddenly leapt from the bushes near him. He saw the animal run blindly into the fence, wedging its head inside one of the open areas. Before he could try to free it, Aaron heard a low cry and saw the animal’s body stiffen. The smell of burnt fur filled the air. Dobson pressed himself down in the bushes as a guard approached. He saw the man kneel down looking at the charred remains of the animal. The man looked in his direction and slowly moved his rifle from his shoulder. The guard aimed in his direction.

“Another mid-night snack,” the guard said with a sleazy grin, “Come on little bunny..I see you.”

There was a soft whooshing sound. The guard grabbed his neck and fell forward against the fence. There was no cry as the man’s body jerked violently from the voltage running through him. His body fell to the ground. The design of the fence now burned onto his cheek he stopped moving, dead eyes staring blankly at Dobson.

The agent slipped his gun back in the shoulder holster and retrieving a pair of long needle nose pliers from his bag he carefully moved them through the fence and pulled the dart from the man’s neck. Voices shouting for the missing guard came closer. Dobson stowed his gear and made his way back down to the boat careful to avoid the searching flashlight beams. He climbed inside once more, gave a quick shove off and was across the river before the dead guard was even found.


Vasara stretched her arms over her head and Napoleon smiled as he watched her firm naked body willow back. His hands found the curve of her hips and he pulled her closer. Her one arm draped over his shoulder and she pressed her face against his bare chest. He was hot, sweaty but at the same time tiny bumps rose on his bare skin as she caressed him.

“When you make good on a promise,” she said breathlessly, “You really make good.”

Napoleon smiled and raised one eyebrow.

“Just good?” he asked flashing his best innocent little boy looks.

Vasara laughed and kissed him. Her lips teased his, and then they traveled to his neck. She heard him take a deep shaky breath and felt his heart speed up. Then to her surprise, he took her firmly by the shoulders and moved her back.

“What’s wrong, Napoleon?”

“Not a thing. But if you want me to make a good impression on your boss tomorrow…”

“I understand,” she said, “And I do want you to make a good impression.”

She started to turn on the light when Napoleon took her hand pulling it to his lips. He could just see her in the light coming thru the sheer window curtains. He sat up and reached to the floor for his clothes.

“Don’t turn on the light,” he whispered as he pulled his trousers back on.

Solo shoved his socks in his pocket and slipped on his shoes then his shirt. Vasara sat up on the bed and watched him.

“Why not?” she asked.

Napoleon pulled his jacket on. He rested his knees against the bed and pulled her close.

“Because I want to take the memory of you bathed in the moonlight back with me,” he said kissing her once more, “I will see you in the morning.”

Solo found his way out of the apartment building and back to the hotel.


By the time he arrived, Dobson had already returned and was going over all the information they had and the new intelligence he had discovered. His wet clothes were soaking in the bath. The combined smell of the wet clothes and the chemicals from his make-shift darkroom filled the room.

“Augh…..What smells like a fringing swamp in here?” Napoleon said as he shut the door.

“You look like you had a hard night,” Dobson said sarcastically never looking up.

“Oh shut up,” Napoleon replied with almost the same edge to his voice.

Solo walked to the bathroom and turned on the light. His eyes began to water at the smell of his partners clothes that were soaking.

“Geeze Louise, Aaron. What happened?”

Dobson got up from the tiny desk and walked into the bathroom. He pulled the plastic bag from the trash can and stuffed the wet clothes inside it. The agent tied off the bag and tossed it across the room.

“Happy now?” he asked.

“What the hell is your problem?”

Dobson glared at his partner.

“My problem? I’ll tell you what my problem is. I am sick and tired of getting laid out while you’re out getting laid!” Dobson shouted, “If you’re such a damn great agent why don’t you ever do any of the foot work?”

Napoleon stood firm and looked at the other man.

“Did you actually hear what you just said?” Napoleon asked shaking his head slightly.

Dobson looked a bit confused by his partner’s question. He saw the look Solo’s face. His partner had a look of steely determination in his body language, his head up, shoulders back. But Solo’s face also wore a look of disgust for what he had done in order to distract the woman. Dobson rubbed his hand against his forehead.

“Mr. Waverly was right, wasn’t he?” Aaron asked.

“Of course he was,” Solo said with a smile, “Isn’t he always? I’m going to take a hot shower.”


Napoleon emerged fifteen minutes later. His hair was wet and brushed back except for a few pieces that always fell forward. His skin was a dark pink from the hot water and hard scrubbing. He was sure an entire layer of skin had come off but he still couldn’t get the feel of the THRUSH off his body. Solo adjusted his running shorts and wrapped the towel around his neck. He walked over to the desk where Dobson had everything laid out. Napoleon pulled up the extra chair and sat down.

“What took you so long?” Dobson asked.

“I was just putting on a splash of Toilet water…” Solo said.

“But the lid kept falling down…” they both said laughing.

“Waverly told you that one too?” Solo said with a smile.

“Yeah. He and his old partner must have been something else in their day,” Aaron said, “Kind of nice to have those tracks to follow.”

Napoleon looked at his partner.

“So what did you find out?”

“The fence is up and running..”

“Electric?”

“Yes. And powerful enough to cook a full grown rabbit….I’m not kidding one got caught in it while I was there and…ZAP!”

“Hasenpfeffer.”

“Exactly. Another thing. Did you see the ditch digger at the end of the warehouse?”

“They dig out a tunnel?” Solo said studying the photos.

“No, not exactly. They dug a trench around the complex. The fence goes another three to four feet below ground level.”

“The nuts don’t fall very far from the tree do they?” Napoleon said shaking his head.

“Napoleon, you’re dripping on my report,” Dobson said brushing water from the photos.

“Sorry. So our biggest concern isn’t getting in. It’s getting out. We have to make a good showing at the obstacle course.”

“The fitness test shouldn’t be too difficult. I mean if we can make it through U.N.C.L.E. Survival School,” Aaron started.

“But at U.N.C.L.E. they weren’t trying to kill us,” Solo butted in, “They were just pushing us to that point.”

“You’re right. THRUSH would kill a recruit during training and never bat an eye. Who would know?”

They went over all their information once more before turning in.



The next morning 7:55am

Napoleon and Aaron stood outside the massive gate and looked from one end of the fence to the other. It had to be a big as a football field maybe more. They saw the razor wire looped thickly around the top of the fence and large caution signs warning not to touch the fence itself.

“The place looks like a concentration camp,” Solo said under his breath.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Aaron replied.

A large black car pulled up just inside the fence near the gate. They watched the driver get out and open the door. A rather large gentleman in a three piece suit stepped out. He eyed the two young men outside the compound for a moment, and then an oily smile crossed his thin lips. He reached back inside the car.

Dobson and Solo watched as two tight black leather ankle boots slipped out of the car, followed by a form fitting light blue jumpsuit. Black leather belt cinched tight around her waist, pushing her body upward. Her blond hair was pulled back in a neat bun and the matching blue kepi sat at a slight angle on her head. The gate opened.

“Good morning gentlemen,” Vasara said smiling.

The two young men fought to get past each other into the compound. Once inside, they heard the gates clang shut. But they kept staring at the woman.

“I see what you meant, Vasara,” the large man said with a laugh, “Miss Desha tells me you gentlemen are interested in coming to work for us.”

“We are definitely interested in learning more about….What is this anyway?” Solo asked breaking his stare at the woman to address the man.

“Our organization is known as THRUSH,” he replied.

Aaron broke into a short laugh.

“What is so funny?” Vasara said, peeved.

“You work for a company that’s named after a mouth disease?” he said.

Napoleon smiled.

“Ignore him,” Solo said rolling his eyes.

The man smiled and gave Solo a jab with one of his fat fingers.

“This one I like,” he roared his accent thick but muddled, “That one..” he pointed to Aaron “Not so much. But he has nerve; I give credit to him for that.”

Vasara smiled.

“My name is Wohlehaus…” the fat man said shaking Solo’s hand.

Solo gave it a tight shake.

“I’m Napoleon Solo, this is Aaron Dobson,” he said motioning to his friend.

Wohlehaus shook hands with the other young man.

“Vasara has told me much about you both,” the man said, “Come let us talk, have something to drink and get to know one another.”

He helped Vasara back into the car and climbed in beside her. The two young men climbed in and sat in the seat across from them. As the car moved thru the compound, they could see several others already going through the training process on the obstacle course.

The car stopped in front of a small two story building. They stepped out of the car and each offered a hand to Vasara. She reached over and took Wohlehaus’ out stretched hand and he helped her from the car. She gave her uniform a tiny adjustment and smiled at Aaron’s reaction to her movement. Vasara was a little miffed that Napoleon had walked a few feet away, was looking off in another direction. Wohlehaus stepped up beside the younger man. He looked at Solo.

“Impressive isn’t it?” the man asked.

“Very,” Napoleon replied.

“Tell me, young man, what exactly are your plans for your future?”

Napoleon smiled and looked at the man.

“Well like I told Vasara. We both have degrees in Political Sciences. I have a minor in linguistics. I really thought maybe a job in politics might be good. Hench the trip to DC.”

“How much did she tell you about THRUSH?"

“Not much. Only that it was a chance to travel, make good pay, and put the degree to use, depending on where I was assigned.” He smiled.

Napoleon saw two guards come around the end of the barracks, a large German Shepherd dog between them. Heavily armed they wore the grey colored uniform similar to Vasara’s. He laughed to himself when he thought how much nicer hers was filled out.

The dog began to leap and tug at his lead, nearly pulling one of the men off his feet. His bark was low but loud and very menacing. The dog twisted and leapt again breaking the guard’s grip on the steel chain lease. Solo watched the animal bounded across the field with amazing speed.

“Doesn’t like strangers does he?” he shouted looking for someplace to go.

The large animal bounded past Solo heading straight for Dobson. Vasara saw the dog coming and shoved the young man back into the car just in the nick of time. Everyone watched as the dog dug and scratched at the car door, trying to get at the man inside. He barked ferociously and his jaws snapped at the windows as if he were trying to bite thru the glass. The men ran up and managed to get the dog back in control.

Wohlehaus and Solo turned to the guards.

“Get that animal under control,” the THRUSH chief shouted, “What is wrong with him?”

The men struggled but finally got the dog quiet and calm once more.

“Not sure sir. We were checking the area where….”

Wohlehaus raised a bushy eyebrow and made a slight nod towards the two visitors. The guards simply nodded back.

The one holding the lead gave it a firm tug and the dog turned following the guards back to the barracks.

Vasara opened the car door and grabbed Aaron’s hand, giving him a firm tug. The young man emerged from the vehicle shaken but unharmed. Wohlehaus walked over and looked at the damage to the car. He squatted down and ran his fingers over the marks. Deep scratch marks and dog drool covered the door, window and running board. Vasara saw the man’s face turn red. He looked up at her. She tried to hide her expression of fear.

“Stupid animal,” she said, “I’ll have someone repair the car, sir.”

Wohlehaus took several deep breaths and tried to maintain his composure. He stood up and gave his jacket a tug. His rage turned to a polite smile as he looked at Aaron.

“You must be one of those strange ones that dogs do not take well too,” he said.

“Not just dogs,” Solo piped in.

“No sir, I had all kinds of dogs growing up,” Aaron said, “Maybe he just doesn’t like me for some reason.”

Wohlehaus made a small laugh and gave the young man a pat on the back. He looked at Vasara.

“Vasara, why don’t you take, Mr.….Dobson was it?....Get him something to drink, fill him in on what it is we do here. Show him everything.” One corner of his lips curled.

“Very good idea, sir,” she said.

“I will have a nice long talk with Mr. Solo.”

Napoleon watched Vasara take Aaron by the arm and they went into the small building. Then he and Wohlehaus followed.

The THRUSH escorted Napoleon into a nice but drab little room. Desk, sofa, chair and a few paintings on the wall gave the small area a cozy but still business like feel. Napoleon watched as the man took a bottle from the large wooden cabinet behind the desk. Wohlehaus looked at the label and made a soft snort of laughter. He held the bottle in his hand and tipped it towards Solo.

Taking two pricey crystal glasses from the cabinet he walked to the desk. Solo stepped over to the desk as the man poured out.

“It must be an omen,” Wohlehaus said laughing again, “I never drink this stuff. But for whatever reason I do not know, I picked it up.”

He and Solo touched glass to glass. It was smooth, a slight fruity taste that was pleasant to the pallet. A refill of the glasses and Solo saw the label.

Twenty-five year old Napoleon Brandy.

“Here’s to the prospect of a pleasant working relationship,” Solo said tipping his glass.

The two finished off their drinks.

Napoleon sat in the chair across from the desk. Wohlehaus made his plump stature as comfortable as possible behind the desk.

“Now Mr. Solo,” he said, “Lets discuss your future.”

In a small room upstairs, several hours later....

Aaron’s hands reached back and his fingers clutched the headboard. He felt his head and shoulders strike it several times. His back arched and he let out a sound that was a cross between a gasp and a moan. He seemed to stay in this position for some time.

Vasara’s own passion filled cries rang in his ears. She leaned back, supporting herself with her hands against his bare thighs. Head back she squealed with delight. The woman sat up breathlessly and looked at the young man. As her fingertips touched his chest, he began to lie back on the bed in a more natural position.

His eyes were stinging as sweat dripped from his hair into them. His breathing was hard and labored. He made a slight cough as he tried to clear his throat. He was shaking all over.

“Am I dead?” he said slowly.

Vasara leaned forward laughing. She saw him cringe as each giggle forced certain muscles to contract around his body. She reached for the bottle of champagne on the night table taking a tumble off his body onto the bed.

“Oh poor baby,” she cooed reaching for the glasses knocking them over in the floor.

She laughed again and picked up the glasses, pouring the sparkling liquid into the flutes. She ran her finger over the rim of one glass and handed it to Dobson.

“Oh my,” she said looking at his body, “Little Aaron is positively purple….”

She laughed again as she lay down next to him.

“He’ll live,” Dobson said weakly, “I hope.” He mumbled under his breath.

Dobson took a sip from his glass. He began to feel dizzy again. Maybe wine wasn’t such a good idea after such an athletic period of sex. He rubbed his fingers over his eyes and felt Vasara gently push his glass to his lips for another sip.

“That was incredible,” Vasara cooed, “Maybe I should have you and Napoleon assigned to bodyguard duties…Or maybe Tag-Team duties.”

She smiled and dropped her eyes.

Aaron sighed. He was starting to feel better. A sense of euphoria overtook him. His lips found her shoulder and he kissed her tender skin.

“We’re already a team,” he said the words slurring a bit as he continued to caress her shoulder.

“Oh that’s right,” she said softly, “Good friends….”

Aaron was feeling no pain. His hands groped her body, his kisses became more forceful. He heard her gasp as he pulled her back down onto the bed, pressing hard against her.

“No,” he said as his tongue fought hers for possession of her mouth, “U.N.C.L.E. Agents.”

Aaron made one more deep forceful thrust.

Then everything went dark.


SoloSista
SoloSista
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Baby-Stroller The Good Agent Affair Chapter 3 0 Aug 2 2012, 8:14 AM EDT by Baby-Stroller
Thread started: Aug 2 2012, 8:14 AM EDT  Watch
This is a terrific story! WOW!! I love it. The piture certainly adds a lot to it as well. Makes it easier to visualize the characters as they go through the motions.

Only thing is where you left off...How could you do that to us??!! Please hurry hurry hurry with the next chapter. :-)

Read your other stuff as well and really enjoyed it too. ("The Cowboy" is wonderful and made me cry at the end)

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Kelly-LA/CA Good Agent Affair 3 0 Aug 1 2012, 5:28 PM EDT by Kelly-LA/CA
Thread started: Aug 1 2012, 5:28 PM EDT  Watch
OMG! What has Dobson done!?

Great chapter. Had me holding on to every word. I did like the line about "getting laid out...." . The boys are really in some deep trouble. I also liked the reference to Mr. Waverly and "his old partner."

Can't wait for the next chapter.

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