Svetlana had fetched tea, and the two women sat down with a mug each, staring into their respective drinks. Svetlana was the first to speak.
"They came about a week ago. Three men, with bats. I didn't have the sword then, and they got the drop on me. One of them had a knife. Something about sending a message. I assumed….I assumed they came from you. From the Agency. As some sort of revenge for me leaving." Sophia shook her head, but said nothing. That was not the way the Agency handled such cases. Shaking her head, as if shaking out the memories, Svetlana continued.
"I don't think they were going to kill me. I don't know why not. I think they…they wanted to put out my eyes. But then he came in. They didn't hear him. He didn't have a weapon, not besides his hands. And one of them was broken. He looked pretty out of focus. I don't know how he found me. I don't know why he chose that moment to enter. But he took one of the men holding me, and he broke him. And then the other two turned, and he…
Van let the man he was holding in his left hand fall, and picked up the bat the man had leant on a table nearby. The two other men turned. The one still holding the woman pushed her down, and reached for his bat. The other one lunged forward, holding a red hot knife. Van moved backwards, swaying slightly. He could feel the weight of his injuries, his broken and useless right hand, slowing him. But he was still fast enough to deal with these men. The man with the knife came closer. Van hefted the bat in his one good hand, and saw the knife-wielder tense and raise his off hand to try and ward off a swing. Instead, Van used the other end of the bat to smack him in the jaw with an overhand lunge, passing under the man's raised arm. The knife-wielder went down. The other man, now holding his bat, came forward, swinging, but his bat caught on a shelf above him. Van stepped in close, ramming the broad end of the bat into his attacker's gut. The man doubled over, and Van dropped the bat, took the assailant's neck in the loop of Van's left arm, and broke his attacker's neck. He bent as the man fell, and picked up the bat that his dead would-be killer had just dropped. The last man, the knife-wielder, was crawling for the door, having dropped his knife. Van smacked the bat down in his path.
"Not tonight," said the detective, and hit the man across the face with a swing of the bat. The man fell over, and began moving, more slowly this time, the other direction. Van stepped over him, and smacked the bat down again, blocking his way. The man looked up, and Van took another swing at him, knocking him over again. The ex-detective twirled the bat around in his hand, before bringing it down with crushing finality on the man's head. It crumpled, and the knife-wielder moved no more. Van turned, to face the woman he'd saved. She was holding the knife from the floor, and aiming it at him. Van didn't have much doubt she'd win in a fight. It was lucky he hadn't come to fight.
"He dropped the bat, and said we were even," said Svetlana. "That I'd saved his life in the shed, and now he'd saved my life here. And I bandaged up his hand, helped it set a little, and did what I could for him. He left maybe three days ago. I don't know where he went. Something about 'home, to pick up my gear', he said. I think he wanted weapons." Svetlana finished. Sophia sat, for a minute or so, thinking. Svetlana just sipped her tea. This was a new development. It didn't bode well for her, particularly, but it let them at least have a vague trail to follow. Even if they did now know that Van was better. Sophia got to her feet, palcing her cup down.
"Thanks for the tea. I suppose…I'll be off, then." Svetlana just nodded. Sophia walked out of the room, and down the hall to the door. Svetlana didn't see her off. Sophia just opened the door, stepped out, closed it behind her, and began walking down the path. She was fifteen minutes and gaining back to HQ when she realised she had forgotten her Beretta, lying abandoned in the sand. Nevermind. She would reclaim her old USP, probably gathering dust in one of the weapon vaults. She fancied something with bit more stopping power. She'd need it.