The Man From U.N.C.L.E: The Thief From Moscow

Chapter 9: The Royal Russian Hotel

After getting off the train together, Solo and Gaby were instructed by Saunders to make their way to the hotel normally where he'd booked a room for them. Moscow was cold, especially in the wintertime, and Gaby kept close to Solo, squeezing his arm.

"I never thought it would be this cold." Gaby shivered.

Solo was about to respond when he heard a voice coming from inside his jacket pocket.

"Cowboy," the voice repeated several times. "Cowboy?"

Solo shrugged at Gaby, and looked through his jacket, only to find a tracker and speaker device. Solo sighed and shook his head. "Peril," he directed his voice into the device, "this is Solo."

"I've been instructed by Saunders to go to the Kosygin's house now to talk with the KGB security. You go to the hotel and stay there. I'll meet with you when I come back about new information." The little voice clicked off and all of a sudden it was silent.

"Well," Solo put the device back in his jacket pocket. "Lets go."

The Royal Russian Hotel was the best hotel in Moscow. Gaby gasped when she saw the huge pink and gold pillars looming over her. They looked like candy she could snap off. Inside the lobby, a huge golden desk with the initials RRH embossed on the front welcomed them. Bellboys, maids and receptionists rushed around the place greeting customers coming through the doors. Solo and Gaby strolled towards the desk, still trying to process the incredible murals and works of art decorating the walls of the hotel. The receptionist was dressed smartly in green and gold, and shook both of their hands when she saw them.

"Hello!" Her thick Russian accent sounded through the place. "Welcome to the Royal Russian Hotel. Have you booked a room?"

Solo loosened his jacket. "Yes, under the name of," he paused to remember his cover name, "Nicolas Hughwart. This is my wife, Eliza."

Gaby smiled at the receptionist, but the name sent a shiver through her spine. "Hello."

The receptionist narrowed her eyes questioningly for a second, before smiling at them again. "Yes, your name is here. You have the City Suite with the best views of Moscow."

"As intended," Solo announced grandly.

The receptionist clicked her fingers. A young bellboy quickly appeared behind her with a trolley. He started piling the luggage on the trolley, avoiding Solo and Gaby's stare.

"I hope you enjoy your stay," the receptionist said before turning back to her work on the desk.

The bellboy led them up a couple of staircases, again rimmed with silver and layered with gold paint. The City Suite was at the top of the hotel. The bellboy opened the door for them, letting them through. He was about to enter the room with them, when Solo stopped him.

"My good man," Solo smiled at him and pressed some notes into his hands. "We'll take it from here, thank you."

The bellboy bowed and Solo pushed the trolley into the room by himself. Gaby was already marvelling at the room she was to stay in for a couple of weeks. The most part of the room was a living room. Huge, lavish couches and armchairs were spread around the room with piles of ornamental pillows, furs and blankets. On the walls, elaborate and colourful paintings of Moscow and the Russian countryside were painting on to canvases framed in gold and bronze. On the far side of the room, a huge double king-sized bed lay waiting for them neatly, as did mountains of pillows and blankets. Gaby sat down on one of the couches and ran her hands through a fury, red pillow. She felt all the individual silky wisps of hair against her skin smoothly.

"Making yourself comfortable?" Solo smiled as he lazily reclined on an armchair. "I could get used to this."

Gaby sighed. "I don't think I could." She waved vaguely around the room. "It's all... too nice."

Solo laughed. "Doll, I think it's perfect. You'll get used to it. By the end of this, you'll be begging us not to leave."

"What about the bed?" Gaby got up and walked towards the bed fit for a king. "I'll sleep on the couch if you want."

Solo laughed. "If someone working undercover for the enemy checked out this room to see if we were actually a couple and saw you on the couch, I think that would give a lot away."

"So," Gaby cleared her throat and blushed, looking down at her feet, "I actually have to sleep next to you.

"I didn't know that was such a repulsive idea." Solo teased, pretending to be hurt.

Gaby rolled her eyes. "You know Illya's going to kill you if you touch me, Solo."

Solo got up from the couch and admired the artwork around the room. "I know. Maybe that's why I'm not going to touch you." He winked at her before going back to recline in the couch. "It'll be better for the mission if we didn't try to sleep with each other at all, don't you think?"

Gaby through a pillow at him from the bed, knowing he was referring to her relationship with Illya. He dodged it and it fell on the carpeted floor. "How long did Illya say he was going to be?"

"Are you that bored already, princess?" Solo asked his teased manner relentless.

"I never said that." Gaby lay down on the bed so she could look up at the mural painted on the ceiling. It was of a couple of girl's ice skating on a pond. "I just can't help imagining something's going to happen to him."

"Gaby, have you seen the size of him?" Solo flicked through the Russian magazines left out for them. "He's huge. Besides, he's with the rest of his KGB kind, so they'll be no trouble for him there."

"Russia's different to America. He told me."

Solo picked a magazine and opened it. "Of course it's different. Was Berlin different to Rome?"

She nodded without thinking.

"Was Rome different to Istanbul?"

She nodded again and realized the point he was making.

"Every where's different, Gaby. Granted some places can be more dangerous or better than others. But every where's going to be a new experience when you visit for the first time. It's what you choose to do in that place that either makes the experience successful or unsuccessful."