This Chapter was edited by The Indie Flash
Here She Goes Again
"Stop! Arret!" Called a determined woman as she ran after the hooded teenager.
The quick figure in front threaded his way through the multitudes of people in the mall.
"Make a hole! Déplacer des gens!" The woman close on his tail yelled out to the bystanders clearing the way for her.
The young lad skidded to a stop, almost falling backwards, as he saw two security guards about to cut him off. He then pulled out a switchblade with the hand that wasn't holding the stolen laptop, and whirled around to point it at the woman that was about to close the distance between them.
"Whoa boss, he's got a blade!" One of the security guards yelled to the woman.
She couldn't help but let a flicker of a smirk fall across her features as she felt her heart start to beat slightly faster in excitement. With one quick movement she spun and back kicked the knife out of his hand, keeping her circular momentum she grabbed his forearm whilst swiping her same kicking foot to the back of his knees, knocking him down where she quickly squatted to dig her knee into his back pinning him to the ground. "I used to protect the president of the United States," she informed her prisoner with pride, as the crowd applauded her performance.
The one uniform picked up the laptop that was now lying on the floor, "eh, Myka boss, I think you got another one broke."
"Well it's not like it's an artifact or anything," she huffed whilst hoisting the teen up to his feet.
"A what?"
"Oh, nothing, never mind."
"Hey, your soon to be, is standing over there," the same security guard gestured to the crowd. Myka turned her head as a sparkling grin broke across her face as her eyes fell unto a hansom man amongst the pack of onlookers.
"Hey, Jer, you mind taking him?" Myka asked the same uniform.
"You got it, boss," the man smiled as he grabbed the punk from Myka, "you go and enjoy your cake tasting."
"I'm not cake tasting, for your information, not every bride is seeing to wedding details at all times."
"Cutlery choosing?"
"Seating arranging," Myka muttered with a hint of embarrassment as she turned and made her way over to her fiancé. Her two employees chuckled at her behind her back in good fun where she chose to ignore them.
"Hey, Honey. You catch another bad guy?" the man grabbed her into his arms and kissed her gently, knowing they were in a public place, and, more importantly, her place of employment.
"Get a room," the other guard called out as they pushed the delinquent along towards the mall security area.
Myka broke their kiss as she smiled, "I'm gonna kill them."
He smirked at her deciding to ignore her comment, "You ready to go?"
"Yeah I will be, just got to go grab my stuff from the office."
"Well, I'll wait for you in the usually spot."
"Baskin Robbins?"
"You know I just can't seem to turn down the best banana split in all of Montreal," he smiled as he backed away into the now disbursing crowd.
"Hey Matt!" Myka called out to him after he turned his back to her.
"Yeah, yeah I'll make sure it has sprinkles and two spoons," he chuckled without looking back.
Myka giggled as she spun around towards her destination in the opposite direction as she headed out.
Myka was in her office alone, for that two of her staff members were in their makeshift interrogation room with their newly caught felon, and her other seven were out surveying in the mall. Myka scooped up her scheduling sheets that she was in the middle of doing before she had to abandon them due to the code red. Just as she finished tucking the papers into her briefcase a shiver rushed up her spine.
"Hello Myka," a familiar woman's voice echoed in her ears.
"Mrs. Fredrick," she said before turning to face her. "What are you doing here?"
"We require your assistance," she spoke with a hint of warmth but still in her usual stoic tone.
"My assistance?" she brought her hand to her chest, "you need my assistance?" she repeated in a humorous disbelief almost laughing at her request. "After four years of not needing my assistance, you come and ask me now! When I have a new life of my own, a job that I'm good at, and a wonderful fiancé that I'm about to marry in two weeks. Now you come and ask for my assistance?"
"Myka, please…"
"No! No, Mrs. Fredric. I mean no disrespect towards you it's just that I can't return there. It's not my life anymore, I've moved on."
"Agents Lattimer and Jinks are in trouble and require an agent with your skills and clearance to rescue them and prevent a threat of mass destruction."
"Pete's in trouble?" Myka's attitude instantaneously shifted as her face fell flush with concern towards her old partner.
Mrs. Fredrick simply nodded.
"Well what's wrong, is, is he gonna be okay?"
"That is up to you Myka; I honestly believe that you are the best chance we've got to make this whole situation right."
"I'll do it, whatever you need me to do, I'll do it." She said confidently, the only thing in her mind was the thought of Pete's life hanging in the balance. She may have not talked or seen him in over four years, but that didn't change the love she had for her big brother.
"Good," The woman in pink handed Myka an envelope. She took it and opened it.
"A plane ticket to Athens?"
"Yes, and from there a driver will take you to a private airstrip where one of our own will fly you to Plakias, Crete."
"Crete?"
"There you will be briefed."
Myka nodded her head almost in a daze as she was allowing her past to sweep her off and carry her away.
"Hopefully this will all run quickly and smoothly so that you will be back in time for your wedding."
"My wedding," she repeated as she forgot all about it, the thing that was number one on her mind for months now, had simply slipped out of her thoughts. Myka looked back down to the ticket in hand, the simple parchment that was about to take her back into her past. "Mrs. Fred…" she looked up to find the room empty once again. She let out a long sigh before heading out of her office, not looking forward to the conversation that she was about to have with Matt. She would have to lie to him and make up some excuse about helping a friend in need back home, which wasn't entirely untrue, but she had no chose but to deceive him; he had no knowledge of the warehouse. All he knew from her former life was that she grew up in a bookstore, went to university, and became a secret service agent. She never told him about her life as a warehouse artifact hunter.
~oOo~
A mere eighteen hours after her brief conversation with the Warehouse caretaker, Myka found herself walking around the Athens airport with her single duffle bag that she had checked as a carry on. She was ecstatic to be walking around after her extensive flight. She had flown to Greece once before, but she had stopped in Amsterdam to switch flights the last time, which apparently had made the biggest difference. However, she was glad that she flew Air Canada opposed to Air United. She despised Air United, a feeling that was shared with practically every other red-blooded American.
The curly haired brunette soon spotted, what looked like, a local man holding up a sign with her name written on it.
"Hello, I suppose it's safe to assume that you are my driver," she smiled at the man in khaki shorts and a red plaid shirt as she approached.
"No English," he spoke in a heavy Greek accent where he took her bag out of her hand abruptly.
"Oh… vous faire parle du français?" Myka asked hoping he could understand French, but she was met with a blank stare. "Never mind," she muttered to herself.
He brought her to his car and then shortly they were off on their way to her connecting flight. She hoped to God that he wasn't her pilot too. The man pulled into a property that merely consisted of a shed like hanger bay and a single paved airstrip with a small Cessna airplane already lined up on it. The land was surrounded by heavy foliage except for the end of the runway that was open to the sight of the ocean over a steep cliff.
Myka's chauffeur pulled in front of the open hanger door. Just as he parked and took the key out of the ignition, a gunshot and shattering glass were heard. Myka took a second to realize that there was a man standing just outside of their car holding a smoking gun; she then looked to her driver now collapsed on the wheel, head to the side revealing a dripping bullet hole in between his eyes.
"Get out!" The man grasping the gun called out in a thick Russian accent.
Myka slowly opened her door and climbed out with her hands in the air. Two more men walked up behind the first man, also packing, but fortunately they weren't pointing their firearms at her like the one was.
"So this is who they sent to try and stop us, a beautiful woman. I must admit I was planning on shooting you straight away, but now I'm seriously reconsidering." He licked his lips as he approached her with an animalistic look.
"Who are you and why did you shoot my driver?"
"Oh don't play dumb with me, princess," he thrust his gun into her shoulder as he aggressively cupped her ass making her jump a little in her spot. "Yes, I believe I will have fun with this one," he removed his groping hand to look to his smirking companions.
"Кто - то идет" one of the men shouted out whilst pointing a finger up towards a fast approaching zeppelin coming from the tops of the trees, sea bound. A faint figure was seen grasping onto a low hanging rope ladder that hung from the vessel who shot the pointing Russian right in the chest.
Myka acted quickly and performed the same move that she had done the day before, with the shoplifter, on the man next to her. Bang she heard another shot where her second Russian capturer fell to the ground, but just as she looked up to see him plummet, the man beneath her hoisted himself up as he backhanded her across the face causing her to fall to the ground, where he hovered over her aiming his gun at her head. He cocked the weapon about to pull the trigger. Then she swiftly swiped her foot, kicking his legs out and toppling him over. She scrambled for the gun as he pulled her back by the leg. Bang. Another shot was fired and the man's grip on her limb was lost.
The man passing a few meters by her on the ladder called out in a thick Liverpool accent, "Agent Bering, I suggest that you run if you want a lift."
Myka picked herself up off the ground and pushed her body into a sprint as she chased the quick moving ladder. Bang. a bullet whizzed past her body. Apparently, her new Russian friend didn't receive a death shot. Bang Bang Bang. The English man returned a series of shots. The ladder was growing closer, but unfortunately, so was the cliff edge. Bang. The Russian shot back. Myka pushed herself harder as the rope ladder cleared the cliff just a split second before she lunged off the edge. A strong hand grasped her arm and lifted her onto the ladder.
"Thanks," Myka huffed as she tried to catch her breath, "So… who are you?"
"Captain will explain," he spoke dryly; "Climb," he demanded as he started up towards the airship.
As confused, grateful, and out of breath as Myka was, she couldn't help but admire the beautiful Greek scenery that lay before her eyes as the aircraft gained more height. She then gazed up to the zeppelin that looked suspiciously similar to every picture of the Hindenburg. However, this one read LZ 130 Graf on the bottom envelope right above the engine nacelles. As she climbed closer she could see that the ladder hung from a balcony that attached to the aircraft's lower cabins, which appeared to be a much bigger area then the Hindenburg's cabins had. The brutish man reached the top where he shifted his body to fall on deck; he then extended his hand for Myka as he helped her up over the railing.
"Thanks," she said to the back of his head as he opened up the rusty hatch before proceeding to walk through the threshold wordlessly. Myka followed, mouth gaping at the sight in front of her. She was standing in what looked like the common room of the vessel, which was lined with large windows that were foggy around the edges due to age. There was a gathering of wooden chairs around two old wooden circular tables. There sat a few men who were in the middle of playing a poker game. To the bow was an open hatch, which led down into the gondola where control was, and to the stern, a heavy oak door lay that led to the individual cabins as well as the head, kitchen, and the engine room's access way.
A woman walked through the open port hatch; she was dressed in tight beige pants, with brown leather boots that came just shy of her knees. A white blouse was tucked into her trousers and her long midnight hair was bound in a braid that fell forward over her shoulder.
"Eh, Cap'in, we got ourselves a pretty little hitchhiker," one of the men playing cards laughed in a Scottish accent towards the raven haired woman who had just entered.
"Paul, would you be so kind and stop gawking towards our guest's beauty?" She ordered him whilst not taking her eyes off Myka, as she was also appreciating her loveliness. "Hello, Darling," her face sparkled, "I do hope you don't mind the liberty I took when I snatched you up, but I feared that you were beginning to play a little too roughly down there," she grinned at her.
Myka's face widened in a gasp as she let the woman's name fall out of her gaping mouth in a murmur, "Helena?"