Chapter 7
Revenge was the foremost thought on Sadie's mind. Second to that getting what Viola hadn't. The paintings VILE had gotten a hold of by Nazis working second jobs. As those in the truck tried to hold her back, she came close in taking action on another thought. Stabbing the men trying to keep her at bay in the truck bed. The elder was her ride back to the United States when this was all over. Stabbing him would be a mistake. Stabbing the younger man that had dared to try fib he understood what it was like to lose a sibling recently? She then tried to take a swipe at Greg but got her hand caught by the old man.
In noticing what was going on Jocelyn had gotten out of the passenger seat inside the truck's cabin as soon as she could to confront the girl. Cal as well leaving the driver's cabin to bolt outside to get to the mystery girl. Sadie was glaring with pure rage at the pair when they got in front of her outside the truck. Holding out her knife from herself and pointing it from one to the other, but mainly towards Cal. Him not being an ACME employee providing a trip back home. She snapped, "you see it! Those rich people here! The grand cars parked outside the hotel! We're in luck! I'm in luck! They deserve death!"
"And you very much deserve to be locked up in jail if you do what it clearly looks like you want to!" Jocelyn snapped back at Sadie, as she struck the girl's hand with her false one. The knife Sadie had been holding, broken out of her hand with the brute force of the slap. The blade falling to the ground to have it's sight mixed into unkempt tall grass.
Her look continued it's enraged state while Sadie said. "How can you let them get away with what they've done to my family and what belongs to them?!"
Once she had bent down to pick up the knife from the ground and had returned herself to standing again. Holding the handle of the knife in her left hand. Jocelyn replied, "we don't know if the paintings have been sold off yet. Only VILE is to blame for your sister's death. Not these people who might equally be scum. I believe revenge is important too. I know and I'm sure you know. I won't help you back to New York if you kill anyone in that hotel. If you promise not to stab or slash anyone, anyone. Then I'll hand you back your knife, understand?"
Acceptance to submission dulling the look of anger on her face. After a pause of thinking about the offer she'd been presented with. Sadie answered almost growling out the words as she did so. "Fine I won't use the knife on anyone involved in any of this, I swear."
With practiced skill of using the one hand for tasks, Jocelyn without hurting herself, turned the knife's handle around to face Sadie's awaiting grasp to take it from her. Pocketing the knife in her dress. In a sidesaddle type hurdle, keeping her legs together. The mystery girl made her way over the edge of the truck bed, then to the ground. Only with a single miscalculation in the act. It caused the heel to break off one of her shoes. This resulted in a stumble from the younger woman but not a fall.
Glaring about her mistake, looking down at her broken heeled shoe. She proceeded to not only take it off but also her other shoe so as to not have an uneven walk. As she made her way towards the fancy cars parked in the lot of The Argent Suites. Her on lookers thought over how to proceed from that point forward. Only Jocelyn having an added thought the rest didn't. It being wondering but then dismissing if the extra solo shoe she had packed in her suitcase would fit the mystery girl.
Sadie when getting to the fancy cars, didn't waste much time getting to the only revenge on those that might not be deserving of it. She was sure her supervising company would allow her to do. Moving from car to car of the most easily accessible. She deeply ran her knife's blade along their bodies, scraping the machines' paint jobs. To add more insult to injury each time she reached either the front end or rear end of the nearest car. She also made sure to slash the tires of the vehicles across their rubber sides.
Happy with her work seeing the parking lot filled with now less in value luxury vehicles. She smiled, moving to the main entrance of the hotel. Her supervising company not happy as she could tell from even a distance. Their looks relaying the opposite emotion to hers. Even as she yelled to them with her knife held high in the air, acting as if it were a triumphant thing she'd just done. "See not a soul harmed!? Now care to join me in dealing with these killers and thieves!?"
Not hearing the door open behind her. A uniformed member of The Scarlet Lily, took in what he'd been prompted by his supervisor to do. Look into a noisy disturbance. Seeing it, her, he also noticed she had apparently damaged every guests' cars. Even the Delahaye 135m 1938 Roadster he'd on occasion driven his leader in from place to place, when not handled by one of his teammates. Beyond the guests' cars and the parking lot, a pickup truck parked on the small road leading into the lot. A grouping of people he felt grateful weren't dressed in Sûreté uniforms. But noted were also leaving the company of the truck, heading in the direction of the hotel. One lagging behind the rest, oddly the youngest looking of the bunch.
Shocked it was only now ACME's representatives had finally mustered up the guts to confront the only criminal organization they knew was present. Sadie re-pocketed her knife and turned to face the doorway behind her. To then discover what had truly got them to pick up their pace to the inn. ACME's representation and added in unofficial publicist, were trying to get to her before the person behind her did. They couldn't reach her in time. VILE's staff not even two feet away from her, was quick to grab her and forcefully take her into the building.
The abduction only causing pause for one of the mystery girl's pursuers. The radio reporter wasn't totally sure what to do next. He didn't fight crime. He didn't have any form of weapon on him. Those ahead of him working for ACME. Two of it's senior founders, the woman when she'd started heading away from the truck. He'd seen her reveal from her right hand through it's pointer finger what he was sure was a miniature gun, by removing it's tip to showing the gun's barrel. The old man, Greg had been sure for a while had a gun but his was conventional in design. It had stayed hidden from sight until now, previously holstered by a shoulder leather sewn together rig. The reporter not from observation of police but rather from newspaper photos and news reels shown before movies. He knew firearms sometimes were carried around that way. The ACME employee native to the area. He wasn't armed but that fact didn't seem to be slowing him down in meeting the goal of dealing with what had to be numerous VILE agents in the building.
What could he do to help? These people might need more help and the fact they represented a form of law enforcement. He couldn't just take the local detective's truck to drive away and try to get a hold of the Sûreté. The theft of the truck for a temporary basis he was sure could be forgiven if it was for a good cause. But he knew nothing of Dunkirk's layout except what he'd been driven to of it. He felt like a coward because even the unarmed detective was ready to try his best. Stopping in his tracks, Greg took a step backwards by a foot.
These people were braver than he was. They had done more with their lives then he had. They had decided to fight for a good cause and seemed to think nothing of heading to the next place they needed to be on their journey. He wanted to join them but now wasn't the time at least in the sense he'd be doing anything bold and helpful. They needed someone to tell their story. He'd already taken a first step towards that without true commitment before being talked into following through with it. Although to the commitment he'd made, it was meant to only be one afternoon's airing of news. After that broadcast, NYC might not think at about these protectors. They'd just be 15 minutes of sound not to be heard of again except maybe by those that would mean to harm their image rather than help it. ACME needed representation, a more public face then what it had, and he'd take that if they'd let him have it.
But first he would continue to add to what WGBH was expecting of him. Running back to the truck. He grabbed from it's flatbed, his suitcase with wire recorder inside it. Attempting to ignore it's weight as he carried it with him, now trying to run towards the hotel. His fellow company he noticed was out of sight by this point, likely inside the building he was sure. Their visual absence not discouraging him. He knew he could get this report finished and lucky for him thanks to war damage & what looked to have been someone tidying. He could see low accessible, to open breeze windows to the hotel, he could reach.
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"Sold for 26,000 francs! Sir you've just invested in art you'll be praised for long after your gone!" The Contessa announced to the packed conference room with glee. While she picked up the painting that had just been sold.
It's new owner, a finely dressed middle-aged man wearing a homburg hat. Took on visible hesitance before daring to reach out for his new possession. The leader of Scarlet Lily could guess from where it stemmed from and she shook her head in disbelief about it before she told him. "I have no plans to make you gone. You just have to remember to pay me for this, monsieur."
Nodding his head in understanding, he took the presented painting from The Contessa. To then make his way towards those of her team, he and the rest of the auction participants had been told would be handling their financial obligations. Seeing the henchmen standing to either side of the entrance to the room he was in. It surprised his thoughts again how they looked to be a part of the hotel's decor design, their uniforms matching the color scheme of what he'd seen of the building's interior. He'd noted it when entering the hotel and had not thought much of it but that was before he'd really taken in how sharp the place looked. The lady in charge of the whole auction, he was sure she'd handled arranging the presentation he was seeing. Plus the attempted fine hors d'oeuvres being served in the conference room.
This woman from VILE he could tell accepted only life's refined treasures. Because of that he betted even if he were to short change her men. She wouldn't dare have him killed on the spot here. Not when it was even important to her to tastefully hind the hole in the hotel lobby's ceiling and make sure not a speck of dirt showed anywhere he could see. Grabbing out his wallet after setting down his painting against the nearest wall to him. He opened it, starting to count out his owed money. Making sure the henchman before him was noting the amount he had on hand, ready to pay out.
What had disrupted his bidding towards his new prize, shouted again. Only now inside the hotel. He'd known it was a female voice from before but now he could put a face to the disruption. A woman he didn't know fighting against her captor, another member of The Contessa's team. Her latest act beyond yelling in anger, as stomping down on one of the agent's boots. The act hadn't made a difference but to make a point to her that her struggle was useless. He stomped down on one of her feet. One of her bare feet the purchaser noted.
Such a dumb woman he thought as he handed over his money to the VILE operative before him. When he was ready to return to the conference room to retrieve his jacket from the chair he'd draped it over, to mark as his seat. He shouted over to the fighting disturbance, who now was trying not to put pressure on her abused foot. "These are not the sort of people you should try messing with mme. The next time you try to stomp down your foot, they might do more than hit it. They might take it off."
Rushed, the door to the lobby hit it's self against the inside wall of the place as it was flung inwards. Cal was the first to enter the hotel followed by his employers. All of ACME's representation sized up the scene before them as they went further into the lobby. These were unknown people to the VILE agents in their presence, and the man that had just paid for his prize. But even without knowing who they were, the VILE agents felt the trio of new guests likely spelled trouble, so that meant they had to be dealt with. When they left their posts to greet the new company, drawing their guns as they did the act. This didn't escape the attention of The Contessa who was in the process of showing off the next painting of her auction. When she noticed those under her command, leave her presence without her permission.
She knew the shouting disturbance was being handled by the underling she'd sent away to deal with the woman. Could the disturbing person be so much of a hassle she needed more than one henchman to handle her? That couldn't be the case and cursing to herself in a whisper. She placed the painting she'd been holding back to where it had been prompted up to the back of a chair. To then make her way off the elevated platform. To down the center walk way of the conference room, announcing to the crowd as she went by. "Please do not put away your purses and wallets just yet. I will be back shortly."
Entering the lobby to see what had made those under her command think they could take action independently of her telling them any thing at all. She saw two of ACME's representation, before the mystery girl that had just broken away from her VILE agent restrainer. A third person, the man who had helped the break away, she hadn't met him before. Although the others she had. Forgetting about her public appearance to her eager to buy merchandise guests. She yelled, "how on earth did you track me here to this place and today of all days!?"
Keeping her loaded pointer finger aimed at The Contessa, Jocelyn answered. "You're a smart woman Caterina Gallo and I sadly know from where your logic stems in thinking we'd not discover what you were up to here. So think about this. Benjamin came to this city not because he had the intent at first to do his job as a detective. It was to do his job as a soldier.
It took only a few seconds for the leader of Scarlet Lily to realize what the lady detective was implying of the man she'd left in an isolation cell. With the assumption his death to come was insured. The fact he'd been wearing an American army camo uniform only now striking her as important. Opening her mouth to speak, she got cut short of the act by a body slam to her side, knocking her down.
Eyes wide at her attacker, The Contessa had more feelings of shock and disbelief go through her. As she really took in the sight of the disturbance looming over her as she picked herself up to standing again. Putting aside the exclamation she had been ready to state. She instead said with a degree of awe, "you look too much like the woman from the other day. You should be dead as well."
No one felt the need to hold Sadie back this time as she went in for the attack. Her hands' fingers posed into an inward bent clawed position, making her nails actually look like they could be dangerous. Her attack was short lived of after she'd taken aim and had struck Gallo's nearest arm. Because after that is when The Contessa struck back in swiping out one of her legs at the other woman in a long side kick. The defensive act got a reaction that caught everyone in the lobby off guard. It being applause of clapping from a few of the auction buying guests standing in the entrance way to the lobby from the conference room.
The guests looked delighted at the sight they'd just seen and always wanting to please those she saw on her level. The Contessa took out her glove she normally reserved for striking Rob with. But as she pulled it out of her pocket, with her other hand, she took hold of the semi precious gemstones she normally held in a different pocket and loaded them into the glove. Seeing what was to come in attack having been witness to the team leader for VILE having done it before in an earlier encounter. Patrick knew he was too far away to make a difference directly so he shouted at Gallo to get her attention. "You dirty filthy sow from a demon's rectum! Your bodyguard killed her sister! What did you think she'd do?! Leave it be?!"
If her eyes could turned red in anger, it wouldn't have been a willed act. It would have been an involuntary one. Patrick's words had the effect he'd wanted on the VILE operative as she threw down her glove, letting the stones inside it clatter out on to the floor. The Contessa snapped out her answer to him with the deepest sounding paced rage in her voice, she knew how to give. "You know me! I am nothing remotely of the sort as I am a kin to royalty, you pitiful beggar!"
Wondering why Cal hadn't joined in what was taking place. Patrick looked around the room to spot the man behind the check-in desk of the lobby. Occupied with, the old man smiled seeing what the younger detective was doing. Then turning his attention back to The Contessa, he replied. "And you know me. I haven't been a beggar in a very long time, so long ago you've only heard it spoken of because you weren't live at the time. Contessa, here is another question for you to think about. You invited these guests here for an auction correct?"
"Yes, so what of that?" The VILE team leader asked.
"How'd you tell them all to come here?" Patrick replied, looking like he was doing a Cheshire cat impression as he spoke the words.
Her animal invoked imagery to reply wasn't to the resemblance of a fictional cat. It was more to an enraged hen with her arms bent out and hands balled, resting on her hips. A hen but one wearing a designer dress suit she felt ashamed of herself for having worn it two days in a row. The result from having worked non-stop to make her event this day a grand one. Still snapping in the tone she'd last used, she said. "I had the phone lines hooked up again at this place! How else would I have?! Go door to door knocking?!"
Hanging up the phone he'd been using at the check-in desk. The contractor having been listening to the conversation he wasn't a part of but knew he'd been linked into. Had him feel the need to shout into the room as he placed himself in better sight of it's other occupants. "The police will be here shortly I told them everything that is going on. To all pointing guns, I suggest you stop that immediately. My lady boss included, the Sûreté have been overworked lately and even friendly foreigners. I don't think they'd appreciate weapons drawn."
Moving away from the check-in desk and making his way over to Sadie. Cal continued his speech while at the same time offering a hand to the mystery girl. "I believe your inherited paintings are in the room The Contessa came out of and some of her guests are watching us from. Would you like an escort to retrieve them, mademoiselle?"
Nodding in agreement, Sadie took Cal's offered hand. Although before starting for the conference room, the native detective felt the need to add, directing his attention towards The Contessa. "Her possessions are in that room correct?"
"What on Earth makes you feel you have the right to call the police?! To steal away the paintings I a have privileged right to!? Who are you to think you are so high a man as to this!?" The leader to The Scarlet Lily snapped in reply with enough venom in her voice to take down an elephant.
Looking like he was paying the VILE agent no mind. Walking with Sadie into the conference room, Cal answered back. "Just a local contractor but also a detective for ACME. I thought me being connected to ACME would have dawned on you at seeing my bosses here."
Now within reach, Sadie grabbed away the painting loosely held by it's new but former owner. The man who'd made the off comment about her foot being removed by VILE if she acted in further aggression. He was too much in shock about the events he was witnessing to take proper action to protect his investment when she pulled it away from him. Her thinking on his comment, decided more action had to be taken here then just claiming her prizes for Scolex Enterprises. Entrusting the painting she'd just taken over to Cal. She stormed up to Gallo and sternly made a request. "Your shoes, they are mine now."
Narrowing her eyes with hate boiling in them, The Contessa, towards what at first was a minor disturbance. Now she knew to be the source of a much larger one. Feeling words to respond to the request being made to her were only needed as a second action. The first part of her reply came as a bare handed slap across Sadie's face, before she added second. "You can't be with ACME I am sure of that. I will hand you nothing. I can have my underlings shoot you and like your sister, throw your body into a ditch by the roadside. VILE will be gone from here before the police arrive. I can't believe you forced me to hit you with my bare hand, you awful woman. I'll need a good scrubbing of it and a manicure because of you."
Growling, Sadie punched the VILE team leader in the gut before forcing her down to the floor. To force the other woman to give up her footwear. Again no one came forward to intervene on the girl's attack but it did cause all concerned working for ACME to think over their sworn job to defend the law and prevent crime. Cal stayed still and watched the act thinking of how in the last few years he'd seen people at war do far worse to each other. That one woman robbing another of her footwear after violated one had been the cause behind a family member's death. At least it was a pale but more clean act than expected and he would let it slide.
Jocelyn and Patrick had exchanged a look between themselves at first taking in the sight of the robbery. Speaking softly Jocelyn commented, "It's wrong but given our suspicions towards her, here shoe theft. She true does act like a criminal. Do you think the Sûreté will care?"
After sighing Patrick answered in the same tone of soft voice. "The virago ordered the death of her sister. I say if the shoes make her feel happy, the police I doubt will fret over it."
Members of The Scarlet Lily being witness to the robbery, Gallo bared her teeth, glaring at them as she picked herself up off the floor. Noticing as she rose, her stockings now had runs in them from the assault she'd just taken. She spat out her disgust at their inaction and what she thought of the imminent jail time to herself and them. They were all supposedly facing. "How could you have let that happen!? We are not leaving here in the law's shackles! We will go now!"
Pleased with her latest nab, Sadie smiled looking at her new pair of medium heeled boots. Ready to say what she thought to the leader of Scarlet Lily, to her words of fleeing capture by the police. Cal beat her to saying thoughts on VILE's wanted escape. "You aren't going anywhere. She made sure of that."
"Any of you! Keys to your automobiles! I must have one of them!" Gallo shouted towards her onlooker auction guests.
Sadie beat the ACME employees to the punch of telling VILE the cold hard truth they had to face. Settling herself on the floor and pulling her new boots on to her feet, she replied. "Your scummy buyers can't help you. I took care of their cars too."
Growing pale in the face with shock, the team leader to Scarlet Lily and a couple members of her team. They raced to the lobby's entrance and out the door to discover if what they had been told was true. When they made it outside they got conformation. Every vehicle in the parking lot had slashed tires. One not in the lot, a pickup truck. The Contessa felt sick to her stomach for even considering it's usage, but sucking it up for not wanting jail time. She thought one must do in desperate times what one must do.
Figuring the truck had to belong to the local ACME employee since she was aware the elderly pair running the agency were Americans, one by birth and the harridan by migration. That neither of them could or even had the means to ship such a thing over the Atlantic. She turned away from facing the parking lot and beyond. Not figuring good odds the contractor would give up his truck to her and her team. She also figured nothing was really stopping her from shooting him to get his keys.
Ready to open up the door to get back inside the building. An unseen and unknown voice interrupted her train of thought, asking. "Care to say a few words directly to my microphone? I'm a little worried that whole event in The Argent Suites didn't get picked up very well."
Gallo only took a moment to locate the man that had just spoken the question. Sitting perched on rumble piled high against the side of the hotel, near a window, was another unknown man. But his accent, he couldn't have been local as it sounded similar to the native New Yorker's. New Jersey perhaps? Another ACME employee? The Contessa didn't know what he had sitting before him, sticking out from a suitcase however what was attached to it made guessing easy combined with his question to her. Holding a microphone in one hand, the connected device was meant for recording. New anger rising in her at the thought of her failure to conduct a very profitable auction because of the global law enforcing group intervening. She yelled at the new stranger. "Are you employed by ACME as well?!"
Greg didn't want to answer aloud with his first thought to that question. He knew for a fact he wasn't employed by ACME but wanted to be. Knowing what he'd been recording was going to be shared over the airwaves back home. Topped with he was sure Caster would be hearing the broadcast as it played out. The radio reporter didn't feel keen on giving the man advance knowledge of his intent to leave his job. Not just yet. He wanted to clear his idea of new employment with those in charge of the detective agency, first. Feeling this was the best thing he could say, the now truth. Greg answered, "no just a reporter."
Fast smooth movement caused by vehicles at the edge of his vision, catching his attention to looking at the horizon. Greg then added, "it appears the police are now arriving. Do you have any words for WGBH listeners, Ms. Gallo?"
"Rot in hell!" Was all The Contessa could think to say in response, now knowing what had happened had been recorded for an audience.
A come back to her suggestion was easy. Greg doubted the woman had ever stepped foot in such a place given her toff appearance. Minus what he knew had happened to the lower half of her body. Remembering a dark period in his life, he said. "I once lived a month in a tenement building. No thank you again."
Words weren't needed, only an angered glare from The Contessa was enough to tell her underling teammate to her right side, what she expected of him. He nodded his understanding and started to come for the reporter, his leader wanted to directly address. Likely brute force impacted to one or more areas of the reporter's body.