Her ears were throbbing. She tried to get up and succeeded in crawling further away towards the wall. It was awfully difficult in this dress and even more being confined in the door frame with Beaujolais. He had fallen on her, his right calf bleeding from a gunshot wound. She was trying hard to get back to her senses. Psychoactive drugs were the worst, it took her a lot longer to shake off. The more she came back to reality, the more her left cheek was hurting: she must have hit herself somewhere while falling. A bit of blood was running down her neck. She thought she could hear muffled noise coming from the other room.
Footsteps seemed to come towards her, hasty footsteps. She got up as quickly as she could, wanting to find a place to hide until she could be able to assault the two men by herself. Instead, she heard her name: it was Virgil. She waited for him in the room, wanting to make sure it was not her imagination. He appeared in the door, stepping over Beaujolais to get to her. The young woman stood her back to the wall, still not able to keep her balance. She smiled.
- I had this covered…
Before she could finish her "I had this" sentence, he took her in his arms.
- Are you hurt? You're bleeding!
She noticed he was particularly concerned. His calm and confident voice had shifted to a different tone. He was worried. She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.
- It's nothing. Just a scratch.
They turned towards Parker who was tending to Beaujolais. The butler had made him a makeshift bandage in order to stop the bleeding. He assessed the situation and contacted Lady Penelope.
- M'Lady, we need to find a doctor to tend to mister Beaujolais. His wound is not bad, but he will require a proper bandage.
- Hold on, Parker. I have found someone who can help inside the complex. Is Abigail all right?
- Yes, ma'am. Mister Virgil is tending to her. Just a flesh wound, nothing very bad.
- Oh dear. And there I thought this would be a quiet little activity for us all to share while we were searching. I'm on my way.
Her Ladyship disconnected. Parker asked for help to put Beaujolais in bed. Virgil lent a hand. The fat rich man was moaning in pain, regaining his senses. Penelope entered the room, followed by three other persons. She motioned for her three allies to get out while the people went to care for Beaujolais.
The crew hurried back to Abigail's residence. Parker prepared some beverages while Penelope invited them to sit down on the sofas. The bioengineer fetched a wet towel and roughly wiped her bloody cheek, avoiding her wound. She undid her hair and removed her jewelry before the drinks arrived and quaffed it down in one gulp. She looked at the Lady.
- I was not expecting that.
- Indeed, neither was I. By chance, I was able to find out that some agents were present here undercover. They are employed by the Council. It appears that Lady Dasha wishes her ex-husband dead.
- And why should it concern the Council?
- It is a matter of World security. Every person in league with the Bereznik state is being watched. It is the cradle for assassins, spies and all matter of people wishing to disrupt World peace. We have a duty to take these people to justice.
Virgil looked at Abigail's wound. She was still bleeding a bit. As she felt his eyes on her, she applied the towel slowly on her cheek. He turned back towards Lady Penelope and asked:
- Now that they know we stopped the assassination attempt, are they going to come after us?
- I doubt it. But we can never be too careful. Keep in contact at all times with John; I will make sure he has a complete breakdown of the situation. He might require you to keep an open link to monitor your positions. That would mean to use geo-localization around the complex. We have little choice.
They all agreed it was the best way they could be safe if anything happened. The aristocrat and her driver left the chalet late that night. While everyone was seemingly on edge, Abigail was relatively calm. She lied down on the couch, her head on Virgil's lap. The young woman let out a sigh.
- That was some action.
- Somebody shot at you. Doesn't that make you feel uneasy?
She closed her eyes and did not answer. He waited; she was bound to open up eventually as she always did. She took a deep breath.
- It does not bother me, I'm used to it.
He hated those answers coming from her. Being used to get hurt was nowhere near normal. He stroked her hair gently; what he was going to say would probably upset her, but he felt he had to.
- Stop pretending things don't get to you. I am well aware of everything that happened. You will forever be haunted by those memories but… it's over now. I want to see you smile instead of pretending. Don't let your pain destroy you.
She opened her eyes: what he said did have an effect on her. He knew it since she was escaping his gaze. She sighed, touching her wound lightly. After remaining silent for a while, she replied.
- It's not easy. I am surrounded by strangers in this world; there isn't anybody left alive that I know who can help me. You Tracys were the first people to show me some kindness in a very long time. I was able to appreciate life again. Tonight, I was a star, a starlet in front of all those people. But the crude reality caught up with me. There is always something that will anchor me back to earth. I can't have dreams; I can't expect to think about the future. All I can try is anticipate if I'll have to run away again.
She rose, turning towards him.
- Thanks for placing your fate in me. I want you to know I am deeply grateful for it. Please don't be mad if I can't do the same. Having confidence in somebody… it's hard. So many people betrayed me…
He took her in his arms. She was breathing deeply as she caught his gaze, trying not to cry. A small drop of blood ran down her wound; he brushed it lightly with his thumb. He was trying to muster the courage to approach her lips. She whispered.
- I know you have been aching to do this for a long time. Before engaging in anything, I want you to understand… this is me. Don't fool yourself…
She smiled faintly as she let go her tears, staring into his eyes. His decision was made. He approached her lips slowly; they were almost touching…
And then John called.
They were both startled by the ring. With what had happened, it was wiser to answer immediately. The space monitor looked at the two standing in front of him: Abigail had wiped her tears away quickly and Virgil was a visibly upset. He began.
- Hey, I hope you two are okay.
Virgil answered, a callous tone in his voice.
- Well, we were. What's up now?
- Woah, calm down. I was only doing checking on you guys. Did I interrupt something?
Abigail sighed and waved her hand for him to go on, not looking at him directly. She did not want him to know she had cried.
- It's okay, go ahead.
- The World Council is on the lookout for potential criminals escaped from a GDF detention facility in Germany. They think some of them might have gone over to Lady Dasha Kaczynska. After a bit of research, the land you are standing on has been given a special status from the World Council to Samuel Beaujolais: since his project required less satellite traffic, they called this area a yellow zone. This means that, at any time, the Council can send the GDF over to investigate and the resort personnel has no choice but to disclose the names of everyone in a stay.
The young woman turned towards him, understanding the gravity of the situation.
- This is bad news.
- Yes. The GDF does not need to know we are here. You can't stay there much longer either or they'll find out about you.
- I was not planning to remain here very long. I'm going to go skiing around the mountain early tomorrow; I need your help to do some scanning.
- Better get to bed then. It's passed midnight.
- Yeah. Thanks for the reminder.
He disconnected. The momentum had been broken. Virgil sat down, upset, and began going through the file Lady Penelope made available for the mission. Abigail headed for the bathroom to remove her makeup and take a shower. She had a habit of turning the hot water off once she was done washing and remain under the cold jet. It was a way for her to enforce her body and mind. She needed to gather her strength: this mission was far from over.
She donned a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt for the night. When she returned, Virgil was sleeping on the sofa, having changed to his pyjamas. She sat down near him and gently touched his cheek.
- Hey, don't sleep here. Come.
He opened his eyes and rubbed his face. He got up slowly and followed her to the gigantic bed. It had happened a few times on the island: she was afraid to go to sleep so he would remain with her until she was okay. He fell asleep with her often, enjoying having someone to cuddle with. They had their code out of respect towards each other: neither of them ever insisted in going further, and it was fine. She would sleep under the sheets and he would only take the top one if it was too cold.
She cuddled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. He went back to sleep, reflexively putting his arm around her. Needless to say, that made her happy.
A knock came on the door of the Lady's chalet. Parker went to get it, welcoming the young attendant who was delivering breakfast in what looked like Chinese wedding baskets. The trays were left on the table as he exited the apartment. The butler made sure he would slip some money in the young man's pockets before he left.
The Lady came out of her dressing room, having finished her morning grooming. She was wearing a pink dressing gown and a pair of matching pink feathery slippers. Her butler had already laid the table and waited for her ladyship to be seated before serving tea. She immediately opened a comm to Thunderbird five. John answered.
- Good morning, Lady Penelope. I have good news.
- It is rather early for you to come up with this. What happened?
- Short night. Abigail left a little after sunrise to begin her mapping. I've been following her for about two hours now.
- What? That early! Oh, my! She really does intend to get this done quickly, does she?
- She if quite fast, already went about thirty-five kilometers around the first mountain. I'm going to scan the whole range and make sure I don't come up with any other kind of surprise.
- Are you expecting something?
- If it is a larger complex, exploring might take longer. Let's hope Abigail knows her way inside.
- I have faith in her, John. Thank you for letting me know about this. I will be going to the resort and find out more about what became of Beaujolais after the attack.
- Good, keep in touch.
He disconnected.
The Lady finished her breakfast and tea before dressing up to reach the main complex. There was a huge billboard explaining all available activities for the day. From relaxations to sports, the choice was ample. Upon reaching the main counter, Josephine came towards her. The Lady smiled as she approached.
-*Good morning, madame. Monsieur Beaujolais asked me to meet with you upon your arrival. He wishes to see you in his private quarters. Please, follow me.
Penelope left her coat to Josephine and followed her to Beaujolais' private massage parlor. She was a little uncomfortable as she entered the room. The chubby man was lying face down on the table, showcasing his hairy back, while a young, lightly dressed Asian woman was massaging him. As soon as the aristocrat came inside, the employee left through a back door. The man raised his head to find the lady waiting near the door. He tried to sit down quickly but gave out a shout of pain. An attendant came inside and helped him out. Beaujolais looked like he was exaggerating his pain a lot. He greeted the Lady while still seated on the table.
-*Madame, mes hommages. I am deeply sorry I cannot kiss your sweet silky hands, but you must understand my pain.
-* Do not bother yourself, monsieur Beaujolais. It seems you wanted to see me?
-* Yes! I have been trying to recall the events of last night's incident. I do remember being with the young mademoiselle Friolet. Have you, by any chance, seen her? I am hoping that no harm has come to her!
-*Why inquire to me for her?
-*I have asked my servants about her whereabouts and all pointed towards you, my lady. She does not seem to be at her chalet, this is why I have asked for you to come forth to me.
-* Mademoiselle Friolet is fine, monsieur. She is a bit shaken but will recover. Do not worry about her. She has engaged in an outdoor activity to ease her mind.
-*I remember her jumping towards me. Was she the one to save my life?
Penelope had to make up something. He did not need to know Abigail had saved his life and it was probably for the best. That way, he would not inquire further about her.
-*I do remember her telling me your staff intervened just in time. Nothing more.
He seemed relieved by the news. Penelope continued.
-*Please tell me, do you have any idea who might have wished you harm? These men were intending to shoot and kill.
-*Chère madame, if only I knew, I would not be standing here in ignorance, looking to dive in pleasures in order to forget this terrible ordeal. This is an isolated incident, I am sure of it. How could anyone wish me dead? After all I have done! No, I tell you, there are crazy people everywhere and these men were of them.
She realized he was completely oblivious of the danger that lurked in his resort. He was never known to be a smart man, but she had never met him in person to judge. By her assessment of the situation, Penelope concluded he was greatly exaggerating his condition and was overconfident in his ability to deal with people. At that moment, she realized he was a complete idiot.
He began venting himself with his hand, his mood changing.
-*Dear madame, you have made me anxious once again. Please, leave me. I wish to regain some peace of mind before tonight's supper. What will my guests think of me if I cannot receive them properly?
He motioned with his hand, clearly shooing her off. She did now think twice before leaving. She had expected him to be a more serious man, not a clueless Don Juan. He was simply a rich imbecile. She went back to her chalet, sending a message to Abigail explaining her encounter.
The first light of day was showing through the peaks when Abigail began her journey. She had hailed Josephine early for a pair of skies and some food to take along. She wore her entire Athena attire: it was tight enough to fit under her snowsuit. She even arranged her boots to fit on the skies. When she was far enough from the complex, she switched her hat to her helmet.
She kept mapping the area using a GPS module connected to Thunderbird five and projecting the finished map in augmented reality on her helmet's visor. She stopped at one point and zoomed in some areas towards the peaks. She noted an outcropping stretching out more than the others and decided to climb up. It would be tricky, but she had to at least try. It was about ten meters from the ground. John was watching her progress:
- Are you sure you want to go up there?
- I believe this might be an access shaft or a vent. It is weirdly shaped.
- Let me check instead, save your efforts for returning.
He sent down a probe. It circled the peak in the air while she went on around it on the ground. Abigail stopped at some point.
- Eh… John? Take a look.
She turned on her helmet's camera and broadcasted. She was before a trail of footsteps heading down the valley and towards one of the peaks. While zooming in, they both realized those were snowshoes.
- Somebody came here. Do you think they were trying to find the lab?
- Holling knows about the location of the labs, so I doubt these are his agents. I don't think they would cross the entire valley on foot, either. He knows he can't get in so it's pointless to send anyone.
- Why is that?
- He can't open the door. When the other engineers openly turned against him, they locked up their labs and all the contents, making sure they would never be opened by anybody else…
- Then why are you so sure you will be able to?
- Before the GDF raid, I was about to do the same. I was cut short, but we managed to use our genetic code as the keys to opening the labs. We were three to oppose Holling. Two died. Now there is just me. Turns out I'm important to him so he put me to sleep instead.
- I knew you were still hiding stuff from us.
- This information was useless to you unless we got to the labs. And there is more. I'll tell you later.
She crossed her skis and unlocked her boots. It was noon. She sat down, taking a break and ate some of her lunch. John was still looking at the maps she gave him. He asked something out of the blue:
- Say… What's happening between Virgil and you? It looked at if I was disturbing something last night.
- Nothing much.
- You did heed my warning?
- Yes. But I don't think that concerns you.
- It does. More than you know.
- Tell me why then.
- This information is useless now. I'll tell you later.
She hated someone to take up her own words against her. This made her very mad. Her voice clearly expressed annoyance.
- What is it you want exactly?
- What is your motivation for finding these labs? What do you get from it?
She finished eating and took a good sip of water. She popped the bottle cap shut and packed her stuff while she answered.
- I want to make Holling pay. And there is somebody else I need to take care of.
- Who?
- A coward who ran away. He's dangerous. I need to find him.
- All right then. I just don't want you to draw trouble to our organization.
- I don't want to either. But would you rather pick up the pieces of this world once they run it over or prevent it all from falling?
- That is not for me to decide. International Rescue is made to save lives, not wage war.
- If you need to kill one to save many, that's a decision you cannot hesitate to take.
- We are in no position to make that decision!
She put on her backpack and strapped it on, clipping her boots back in the skies and changed the subject.
- Did you manage to find anything with that probe?
- You were right, there is metallic alloy under that outcropping. Looks like a service hatch. The scanning showed what must have been a horizontal hangar door but the signal is too faint to be sure. This really is a yellow zone. And I don't see any living being around other than animal life signs. Those tracks must date back a few days.
- Okay, put all this info in the file. I'll work on my trajectory for tomorrow at the chalet. I need to go back before nightfall.
FAB. Be careful out there.
He disconnected. A hundred more questions plagued his thoughts. Who was that person she referred to as a coward? What was Holling going to do exactly if he had her back? He kept on working, trying to figure out more through logical reasoning even if everything did not seem to make any sense to him.
It was passed noon when Virgil woke up. Never in so long had he slept that late: he felt bad about it. He did not even notice when Abigail left. It must have been quite early. He got up and showered, putting on a pair of black washed jeans and a charcoal colored shirt. He was going to visit the Residence and ask questions about Lady Dasha. There was nothing more he could do right now than concentrate on the investigation. Penelope had also provided him with some clothing; he took out a dark grey newsboy cap from one of the suitcases. This made him look like a hooligan. He smiled as he put it on, matching it with a leather jacket and a grey scarf. That reminded him of a character from an old musical performance named "West Side Story". He had come across it when he was young and watched it with his mother. He had come a long way since then.
He made his way to the car and drove to the Residence. Parker was already there; Lady Penelope had given him his day off when she had returned to her chalet. He had a liking for old Bajah's cooking and, mostly, her collection of exotic liquors. When the young man came in, he saw the butler already engaged in a poker game with other acquaintances. Virgil sat down in the living room with Dagan who was watching everyone from his rocking chair. The old Russian woman brought him a hot coffee and said something before leaving. Her husband seemed to smile under his wise man moustache.
- She said drink slow. Russian coffee. Strong.
It was very hot, he laid it to rest on the side table and began to discuss with Dagan.
- Tell me, what is Lady Dasha like?
- Lady Dasha is good woman. Took us from Bereznik slum and brought us here to work for her. All people of her from slum with us. She knows we not ask questions. T'is not safe to ask questions in Bereznik.
Bereznik was known to be one of the last remaining dictatorship in the world. Since the fall of North Korea, the World Council was founded and established policies to make sure no other dictator would rise. Unfortunately, due to a very narrow minding from the Russian federation, the northern nation left the Council and decided to act on its own. Poorer countries such as Ukraine, Romania and the surrounding became prey to mercenaries and armies until a man rose to power. General Berenora, a very powerful and charismatic man, decided to unite these countries and established a resistance. The liberator soon turned to tyrant once the land was pacified as his armies continued to swarm the territory and terrorize the people. Economy was reduced to nothing and most of the wealthy fled the territory with their fortune, leaving only the poor and vulnerable behind. Since then, there had been little news from the interior territory and it was considered hostile. The World Council flagged many inhabitants as spies or terrorists; the segregation had begun, welcomed with opened arms by the ruling General.
The red-haired girl was sitting on one of the players' lap, rubbing her bust in his face occasionally. The other men seated seemed not to pay any attention to it. Dagan took a puff on his long pipe: he looked like a magician lacking only the hat.
- Lady Dasha give us house. Bajah and me come to help after her married. She give us beautiful home, we help her.
- What kind of help do you provide for her?
- Oh, not much. T'is sometimes help with errands. Shuttle people around. Make sure packages get to airport. All this.
- Do you know if she ever had visitors from the outside?
- Visitors from home? Don't know. Not much people from home come here. Not welcomed. So, they not come.
- Do you know a man named Marcus Holling?
A man's voice arose from the table. He was looking at his cards while replying.
- Boy, it's bad luck to bring up that name here. That fucking bastard deserved what came his way.
Virgil was all ears. The man looked a little drunk from his posture but still had a lot of spirit in him. The other players were addressing him as Davis: bald with a very classy black goatee. His eyes were narrowed by intoxication. The musician asked:
- What can you tell me about him?
- He's bad luck. Everyone hates him.
- What do you mean?
- I mean just that! Pair of queens!
He remained vague on the subject, dropping his cards on the table. Parker called a pair of Aces. Davis cursed and slapped the wooden surface.
- FUCK YOU, NOSEY! Told you this was bad luck!
He eyed Virgil as he drank, motioning for the dealer to give him another hand. The young man dared not ask anything else. Dagan pointed him with his pipe.
- You tried coffee yet? Make Bajah happy, drink!
He took a sip of his coffee not to insult the lady of the house; the taste of vodka inside was strong but balanced by the sweetness of sugar. The drink was so thick and creamy, he could barely taste the coffee. He turned back to the old man.
- Could there be a connection between Holling and Lady Dasha?
- No, no! Not much liked, that man. Never near the Lady Dasha. She could strangle him.
He mimicked the gesture as he was talking to make himself more convincing. Virgil inquired further.
- How come?
- When Holling arrested… splashed bad reputation on Lady and her husband. Tried very hard to be clean. Took long while because of Lady's trade. Very very hard to make people understand.
- Her trade?
Davis dropped his hand cursing and went to sit in the living room with them. He lit himself a smoke.
- You're quite the curious one, boy. The Kaczynska clan has been dealing in prostitution since decades in the old lands. They had close ties to organized crime and a lot of contacts in Slavonic states. When Holling was accused, he thought he could benefit from the clan's protection but was cast out. He's not welcomed here and anywhere near the east. He made a lot of enemies too but I heard a lot of these people disappeared. Just bringing his name up is very bad luck.
- Did you know him?
- Had a friend working in one of his facilities. He told us the boss was good, giving away a free healthcare and tuitions to the workers' kids so they don't go around asking themselves how big an asshole he is. He buys peace through comfort. That's disgusting.
- I see. That explains a lot.
The man breathed in and let out a large cloud of smoke in the air. He put his cigarette back on the tip of his lip.
- That's enough rambling about that jackass for tonight. Go try your luck at the table, they're missing a player.
Virgil thought for a moment, gazing at the flames crackling in the fireplace. If there were no connection between Holling and neither Dasha or Beaujolais, then they might have stumbled on something else. He sent a message to Lady Penelope and Abigail summarizing the entire discussion he had with Davis. He waited for an answer, finishing his drink. Bajah came in for a refill. He politely declined and left towards the door. Parker grabbed him before he got out of the living room.
- Where are you going, lad?
- Back to the chalet. Why?
- Well, since I'm off, I thought you were off too. Why don't you take a seat?
- I don't think this is a very good idea…
The other men smiled as they looked at him. They fancied having a fresh young man at the table to share a slice of life with; an occasion to repeat anecdotes and stories everyone around the table already had heard over three times. He sat down, telling himself it could not hurt to inquire a little longer. Bajah served cherry liquor and more coffee at the table. After fifteen minutes, there was still no news from Lady Penelope. He joined in, waiting to get an answer. The men drank heartily and played cards for the entire afternoon. Times flew by quickly as he was enjoying himself.
The ride back from the mountain took her three whole hours. Abigail entered her chalet, completely exhausted, ditching her snowsuit, her brow sweaty from the stacked layers of clothing. She noticed a message coming from Penelope on her communicator telling her not to meet with Beaujolais. She sighed in relief; she did not want to have to play her role fatigued as she was. The only thing she wanted now was to wash, eat and spend the evening with Virgil. Having some tranquil time together would surely make him disclose his feelings.
Upon exiting the shower, her communicator rang. She hurried to dress up, taking a pair of tight fitting pants and a light gray form fitting shirt, unbuttoned down to her breast. It was Lady Penelope calling.
- Good evening, Abigail! That was some ride you went on this morning.
- Yes, quite. I'm really tired now. Do you know where Virgil might be by any chance? I've tried contacting him for a while and he does not pick up. He left with the car.
- I have not heard of him in a good while. I'll try asking Parker.
The Lady put the communication on hold and tried hailing her butler. There was no answer. She came back to Abigail who was looking at her message history.
- This is rather odd. It is like if there is no signal at all.
- Something is wrong. When was last time you spoke to John?
- Late afternoon I believe. Right after he had hung up with you in the wilderness.
- Have you tried contacting me since?
- Yes, a few times. What do you mean?
- Be very careful with what you send. I think our frequencies are being manipulated. Don't call John, I don't want the GDF to interfere if it is them who are doing this. Short waves seem to be working since I received your message when I came home.
- I see. I will be waiting then.
Grabbing a snack from her backpack before leaving, she put on the most comfortable pair of heels she could find in order to go out and start searching. She wanted to go up to the main complex, a twenty-minute walk from her chalet. Under normal circumstances, it would not have bothered her, but she was rather tired from her run. She was going to go slowly.
On her way, she tried to call Virgil again. There was no answer. She also tried to get through to Thunderbird Five: there was a faint signal, then nothing. Something was definitely up; there was no interference whatsoever a few hours prior and now, nothing. It was mostly unlikely that John had moved the station away since he was authorized to be anywhere but that did not explain why they could not broadcast between each other.
During her walk, she had the feeling of being watched. She turned around at several occasions to make sure nobody was following. She noticed a silhouette in the distance that seemed to be running. It disappeared behind a snowy hill. She was not dressed to pursue and her thighs were stiffening from her hard workout. She had to let it go and resumed her walk towards the main complex.
As she was gazing around her, she saw several cars parked behind a residence. The Blackbolt sedan was there along with FAB1. The architecture of the small manor predated all the surrounding buildings. It was clearly a construction of some historical value that had been kept there. The door seemed massive, depicting a coat of arms in the center surrounded by stags, their antlers clashing. A few more sculptures of stags decorated the ledges around, covered in light snow.
She went up the front porch and knocked on the door. Bajah came to answer, laughing, addressing her in Russian. There seemed to be some kind of event going on inside the house, as loud noises came from an adjacent room. Abigail looked at the woman.
- May I come in?
Abigail gestured to make her understand what she wanted. The woman answered something and let her pass.
When she was inside, her communicator rang. It was rather odd as she had not been able to come through to anyone in a while. It was Virgil, explaining her his discussion about Holling's ties with Beaujolais and Lady Dasha's trade. He wrote to her and to Penelope. The message was sent about four hours ago. It confirmed her doubts about the frequencies being monitored: Virgil was around here somewhere and the message came through short wave communication.
The bioengineer made her way towards the living room. There were men playing poker, arguing about various subjects very loudly. Parker was right in front of her and noticed her arrival. He stood, his face completely flushed red.
- Oh... m'Lady! Why did you come here?
All the men turned towards her. Virgil did too: he had taken a drink too many and was rather joyful. He felt ashamed to have let himself go like this. He thought she would be mad. Instead, she sat near him. Everybody watched her; her looks did catch everyone's eye. She spoke, smiling.
- Sit down, Parker. I'm not here to chaperone you. You can resume, gentlemen. I will not interrupt for very long.
Bajah offered her a drink: some apple and honey mead from her motherland. The young lady thanked her; it was exquisite. The men's shouts and arguments continued as if she was not there. She began whispering to Virgil.
- How long have you been here?
- Since… noon.
- Did you contact anybody else than me and Penelope?
- Not since then, why?
- Something is wrong with broadcast communications. I sent you a message when I took a break around the mountain. Did you get it?
He quickly checked his communicator. The message had gotten in when she entered the residence.
- I see what you mean. Only short waves work…
- We should get over to Lady Penelope's place at once. Let's work something out.
- Did you find anything?
- Yes. I know where one of the access shafts is. I'm going there tomorrow morning.
His hand was not good, he dropped. He took another hand of cards and continued.
- I'll go with you.
- No. I need you to take the vehicle away from this place and wait for me.
- How would you be able to contact me if the broadcast is controlled?
- I'll figure that one out later but we might be able to contact each other with John's help. I am beginning to think someone is deliberately cutting us off.
- You read my message? Dasha and Beaujolais have no ties with Holling.
- Yeah, I saw that. But with what happened last night, I just hope nobody thinks we are agents of the World Council.
- I should have come along with you. I'm sorry I've spent so much time here…
She drank her mead while watching the game unfold. After a while, she felt a little light-headed: fatigue had kicked in as well as the alcohol. It would all be over in a very short while, but she enjoyed the moment while it lasted. Virgil looked at her and smiled. He realized she had been brushing her leg lightly on his. Once that game was done, she got up.
- I will take my leave now, gentlemen.
Virgil saluted the table, leaving as well. The men bid him farewell as they got out of the residence. He got up to her as she was watching the road around.
- Is there something wrong?
- This uneasy feeling I've got. It's like if we are being watched…
- Let's go back to Lady Penelope.
- Good. Since you drank a bit too much, I'll drive you there.
She gave him a roguish smile. He laughed, giving her the access cards. He knew she could maneuver a land vehicle pretty well when she lent a hand during a rescue mission. He found that both impressive and weirdly attractive in some way.
Upon arrival, the Lady welcomed them.
- Welcome back. Did you see if Parker was there?
Virgil sat down, trying not to show he had drunk. He responded.
- Yeah, he was with me at the Residence with Dasha's people. He seemed to profit of his leave a lot.
- I will let him go for now. I believe he might be up to something. Even during his leave, he rarely remains away that much.
She looked at Abigail.
- You look worried, dear. Is there something wrong?
- On my way to the residence, I felt like I was being followed. I saw a silhouette in the distance but it disappeared. I hope it's only my imagination. I'm exhausted, maybe I am just overreacting.
- Good, get some rest then.
Lady Penelope continued on her work while her guests were leaving. A weird brushing sound, like snow falling from the roof, was heard. Everyone looked at each other, all aware of the sound.
Virgil got outside as quickly as he could to check. There were footsteps in the snow coming from the chalet towards the road but nobody in sight. He was about to turn around when he was attacked from behind. He tried to wrestle his assailant, only to succeed in bringing him in front of him. That is when he noticed the man was armed with a knife and seemed pretty good at using it. He reared as his opponent was slicing in his direction, trying to corner him. His reflexes were not at their best, he tripped and fell down on his back. The man saw an opportunity to strike and thrust the blade towards his chest. Virgil quickly turned to his side but was struck. He took a quick look at his arm: the knife had cut through his clothing but fortunately missed his skin. The man tried to go for it again; this time he met with Abigail, jumping in front of her companion and catching the knife's blade with her left hand. He tried to push the blade further in her hand; he noticed a bit too late that he was cutting through the latex sleeve, revealing her carbon polymer prosthetic. She delivered a powerful blow in the assailant's private parts with her knee. He fell down, shaking in pain. She stood on top of him, kicking the knife away and kneeling on his plexus.
- Who sent you?
The man was still recovering from his nut shot. She pulled his neoprene mask from his face: he was a blond man with a square jaw. His few words seemed to be curses pronounced in German. She put more weight on her knee and urged him to talk. He kept speaking in a foreign language.
Lady Penelope came outside that instant. She approached the man and began speaking to him in German. He seemed rather surprised but spat in her direction. Abigail pressed a little more. She heard his bones beginning to crack. He had heard it too; his face changed and he begged her to stop in English. Penelope took over the investigation.
- Who sent you?
- L… Lady D…Dasha.
- Why?
- She wants to get rid of the agents…
- Well, I have a message for Dasha. Tell her we are not with those agents. We are acting freely and on our own volition. Do tell her to stop pursuing us for we do not care if Beaujolais either lives or dies. She can do whatever she pleases.
She nodded to Abigail. The bioengineer released the man. He got up quickly, trying to catch his breath and left along the road, running sideways. He eventually disappeared from sight behind a hill. The aristocrat sighed.
- As I thought. I will need to remain here tomorrow and clear out this mess. We will have to act quickly.
She went back inside. Abigail looked at Virgil. He was leaning against the façade, trying to collect himself from all the action. His head was spinning. She got up and went to help him. He felt pathetic, swearing not to abuse alcohol that much again.
She helped him walk all the way to their chalet, a few meters away. He sat on the sofa, his head still spinning. She sat facing him, smiling.
- Did you get your lesson about vodka?
- Yeah. I haven't drunk like this since… university.
- That was an awfully long time. You should get out more.
- I'll pass. I can't.
- Always on duty, huh?
He smiled, turning his head towards her.
- You saved my life, you know.
- Isn't it just an everyday thing like you guys say? Saving lives, sacrificing your own…
- We live for that. Saving the world and its people.
- It is quite heroic. But is the world grateful for your aid that much? I always wondered what it really felt to be selfless and give my own to save others. I haven't done anything like you guys did but, I think sometimes, it's good to have a bit of recognition.
- Yeah, I understand what you mean. But seeing that the people we save are going to go back to their everyday lives changed from their experience and share awareness about how much life is important, how it is precious and how much it counts, this is the satisfaction we get from our job. This is the driving force of International Rescue.
She began thinking about his reply. "A second chance, don't screw it", she thought. He noticed her face changing.
- What's wrong?
She woke from her thought.
- Nothing. Just tired.
He turned towards her, putting his arms around her waist and bringing her over to him. He would not have normally done such a thing, alcohol had something to do with it. She was kneeling over him on the sofa, her face inches from his. He kissed her. She held him tightly, not wanting it to stop. He did the same. He slowly went down towards her neck; she stretched it out to him, sliding her fingers in his hair. His hands began coursing her body amorously. It was going a lot further than expected, but neither of them backed out, abandoning each other to their instincts. The night was going to be a short one…