Eventually, on the same day, Napoleon got tired of being stuck in his hospital bed and convinced Waverly that coming back to the St.Ives estate would be best to rid any suspicions by the town council.

" There's our Racecar driver turned Wheelchair drifter." Nallya joked when Napoleon was rolled out by Illya in his new wheels. The doctor ordered Napoleon to use the chair for until he fully heals, which also had to come with a story for when they get back home.

"Do keep in mind that this is only temporary." Illya hid a snigger with a cough when he pushed the chair towards the car.

"Gentlemen... and Lady." Waverly nods to Nallya and stopped just between the three before he started talking again.

"Since Agent Solo will be sitting the rest of the mission out, I've called in someone local to fill his place in. I believe she was one of the first responders to the Pentagon incident."

"Teller was there?" Synchronized, all three arched an eyebrow.

"Somebody a bit more experienced than her actually. But close. Agents, I want you to meet-"

"Margaret Carter." The woman cut off, a few steps away from the small crowd forming. She had brown eyes with matching brown hair in victory rolls that kept strands away from her face. She wore a Women's standard U.S. Military uniform under a brown leather jacket. The three of them exchanged looks; confused about how the only thing local about the woman was her british accent.

"I've heard plenty about you." Margaret said, sticking out a hand. Nallya quickly accepted it and hoped she didn't seem over-eager.

"Hoping all good things."

"That all depends on your definition of 'good things', Agent X."

"Mmmhm. Fair point."

"Call me Peggy."

"Pause. You're the one who killed Kennedy?" Napoleon failed to cover the light skepticism in his voice when he asked.

"Oh, me? goodness, no." Peggy huffed.

"She did." She motioned her hand to Nallya. Who gave them back a sheepish smile and an awkward laugh.

"How did you do it?"

"Another time, boys. You should probably make your way home.. and Agent Carter?"

"Yes, Mr.Waverly?"

"Welcome back."

--------

"Peril and I will do a headcount, and you tell us how you did it." Napoleon had been trying to convince Nallya to tell them all about the stories they've heard about her in their line of work.

"Alright."

"One: Kennedy." She expected that the moment they found out.

" I had a timer on the sniper. I set it up 2 days in advance to the precise moment that I calculated the car will stop on the exact spot. Setting up and moving Kennedy's head just a bit wasn't the hardest part. It was befriending Jackie and a handful of the people in the White House.. and the first dispatchers.... and the medics. And of course selling my persona."

"But why?" Illya inquired.

"It was an order. They didn't give me much to work with. All they asked me was to kill him because he is interfering with Russian-American relations. You know the drill." Nallya gave him a sideways glance on the mirror.

" Lee Harvey Oswald?" Napoleon, deep in thought, asked.

"Good question. The man was at the wrong place, right time. I got there before him. Replaced the gun, picked up the shells, and went out of his way. I sent him a package that I specifically got delivered at 6:30 in the morning with ten thousand dollars in cash inside and a note; The address, what he's supposed to do and what time. Since I was told that the man was self-absorbed, I knew telling him that following the orders exactly as they are would not only make him wealthy, but also famous."

"He was also assassinated two days after.."

"He got a bit too cocky in the media for my taste so I did what I had to do. I got a CIA agent to kill him."

"Reinhard Heydrich. Czech Resistance? Failed assassination? You get job done. What happened there." Illya did not the buy the story the first time he was told. But when he realized that Nallya did it, he found it even more incredulous.

" Right. Gabčík and Kubiš. What everybody else didn't know was there was a Brain. All worked by the power of misdirection."

"Like a magician."

"Exactly like a magician. You see, before the alleged assassination actually happened, He was already set to die. And like every good magician, I had to acquire the right tools to perform the trick.. His car's metal and windows are laced with polonium and strychnine inside and out with certainty that if the car blows up, the shrapnel that hits him and punctures his skin will slowly kill him undetected. Kubiš throwing the grenade in Heydrich's car wasn't the attempt itself. It was just the abracadabra. A cherry on top."

"People have been telling the story wrong the whole time. I'm assuming that you didn't do it as an order either." Napoleon shifts in the back seat and crosses his legs.

" I hate Nazis. Watching Heydrich suffer a slow painful death through his last days was quite the entertainment and I had a front row seat."

"Always feisty, kitten.. Were you also responsible for Stalin's heart attack? that is just another rumor, right?." Illya joked. Nallya tightened her grip on the steering wheel.

"Wow.You'd have to have been what? Nine years old?" Napoleon counted in his head. Illya's face fell upon realizing she was serious.

"They did not.. did they? You were in Solitary for three weeks because you bit Medvedev's ear off."

"That and they took me to the mission because I was the least threatening agent. They brought me to him as gift. That was my cover. I, however, didn't know." She stated, looking straight ahead and half-focusing on her driving.

"It took me a week and a half to realize that they were not coming back for me because they can't. So I found a way back."

"By killing him?"

"That was the only defense mechanism I knew.. well also being a pain in the neck but that's another story."

"I followed the trail of lab coats. I found Nitrogen in their laboratory and I read somewhere that the cold can stop someones heart or trigger a heart attack. Since we are all Russian, we are immune to the harsh weather... the gas was just a bit colder."Nallya takes a a right turn leading to the Jamaica Inn in Bolventor to get dressed before she forgets.

"It's pretty impressive for you to make it look like a normal heartattack. "

"Shoving a pipe connected to a nitrogen tank down somebody's throat is not a nine year old's idea of a good time. I was lucky that it actually worked or I wouldn't have made it h- back."

"You did. And a few weeks later you vanished again."

"That one I was actually in solitary."

"Mhmm?"

"I finished all my class work for the year in one night and they punished me for 'cheating'."

"See. This whole conversation is just making me question if the two of you were ever normal."

"We have no place in the world. Normal is a part of something, we- are not. That's what they program you to do." Illya recited and Napoleon shuddered at the word 'program', but neither of the russians noticed.

"How about you, Solo? What's your background beyond what we read on your files?"

"Well. It's only fair, I suppose. You both know the part where I steal things and live lavishly.. so where do you want me to start?"

"Childhood? Kill streak? Have you always been a serial womanizer? Whatever you feel comfortable sharing." Nallya hummed as she went further down the road where she can spot the small inn from a mile out.

"Straight to the point, I see. I grew up in Westford, Massachusetts with my mother. Father was an architect... and a drunk; He used to beat my mother before I could even speak and that went on until my mother got tired of it eventually and left him. But because of his money, we didn't live in poverty just like the rest were falling to it when the war started. My mother worked at the factory during that, to prove something to herself. I never knew what she was trying to prove that time but she did teach me that nobody can take your value especially when you know what you're worth. Now that I think about it, it was probably empowering for her to know she was helping people."

"Your mother sounds lovely. Maybe we could drop by when we're in America."

"She's passed after I was drafted.."

" condolences."

"So, did you find your talent when you got drafted?"Nallya sensed the upcoming awkward tension so she avoided it by diverting the conversation.

"No, actually." The mood shifted.
"I used to be known as a Mama's boy because I'd taken some of her feminine habits, like being light handed and having a sense of style. Being drafted only came in handy when I learned that we were supposed to be giving priceless works of art and antiquities back to their owners. Then they started disappearing one by one; Klimt, Degas, Kandinsky, Matisse, Monet.. some of them I kept, some I sold to the financially elite. Eventually I disappeared with the art."

"You got a Gustav Klimt?" Nallya, sure that Napoleon probably does, still asked. Klimt is one of the most established Austrian painters and she had been fortunate enough to see the portrait of Adele Bloch-Bauer I in a museum in Sovetsk.

"Adele Bloch-Bauer the second, Emilie, Hygieia, Golden Tears.Would the two of you like to see it sometime? Some of it is in Plémont. "

"Maybe when you heal and we finish the mission." Illya answered. Nallya pulls to a stop infront of a phonebooth and both men began crawling out of the car. They were surrounded by establishments made of grey brick that screamed 'I'm Old.' When you look at it carefully. The courtyard was littered with picnic tables and pots of flowers lined the walls.

"I'll go change in the bathroom, there's a bar so go check that out if you want. I'll be done in a few minutes."Nallya shuts the door and opens the boot of the car to get her William clothes.

"It's only 11 in the morning." Napoleon said. The other two just gave each other a look that asked if he was serious.

"I thought we already established that you're partnered with Russians."

"What does that have to do with drinking too early."

"We ate cereal with vodka as children." Illya glossed.

"That actually explains a lot."