Saturday, July 1st

14:00 GMT-7 (21:00 GMT July 1st)

Safehouse C, Los Angeles
United States of America

While most were sleeping off the effects of the night's action, some had been very busy piecing together events and the aftermath.

One of those was the fourteen year old girl, Madeline Tyler. With little sleep and dubiously dangerous amounts of caffeine drink, the computer specialist had spent hours piecing together news reports, military dispatches (do not ask how), local and state police force communications (again, do not ask how), and various other bits of information from varying intelligence sources (legal and otherwise). That information was providing some decidedly mixed results – some good news and some bad news. Ultimately, Maddie had to assemble a briefing for the 'senior staff' – and that was not just Erika and Guinevere, but her holiness herself; she who should not be named: the purple one. Maddie was not overly keen on presenting bad news to Mindy, although being a few thousand miles distant from her highness would probably keep her alive, she considered. Her research had been periodically hampered by her brother who had spent most of the night asleep on the couch in her 'den', as she was referring to her computer room, but recently he was just being a little cunt! The boy was enjoying learning about what his big sister did to fight crime in Los Angeles; it was an eye-opener for him.

Okay, Connor Tyler had always respected his big sister, despite what their parents had tried to portray their daughter as being, as being worldly-wise despite some of her many failings. The boy looked up to her, especially as she was all the family he had left considering his parents were in prison on charges of child neglect – apparently, they were not having all that good a time in prison; something to do with prisoners' dislike for those who abused children as he understood it. As far as the boy was concerned, he had made the right choice and he loved his new life with his sister and the crazy twins. However, he could tell that something really bad had happened but his sister had refused to explain what had happened. Whatever it was, his sister was involved in some heavy stuff.

"Well, here goes nothing, kid! Stay silent and behave!" Maddie said pointedly as she gave her brother a mock glare.

"Yes, ma'am!" the boy responded somewhat facetiously but he sat quietly as the giant seventy-inch flat screen came to life.

Maddie waved as Mindy appeared – she was obviously aboard an aircraft by the view and the muted droning sound. "Hi, Mindy!"

"Hi, Maddie. Hi, Connor," Mindy offered with a smile.

"Hi, Mindy!" Connor shot back with a broad grin. "Hi, Dave!"

"Hi, Connor," Dave responded from behind Mindy- the boy was learning who everyone was very fast.

Another image appeared – this one of a room with vertical wood panelling and a pool table. The table was strewn with paper and three laptops. Two women were present along with a young man.

"Hello, Maddie," Erika said. "I hope you're behaving."

"Yeah, right!" Connor through in.

"Enough from you, brat!" Maddie groaned. "We're good, Erika. Hi, Guinevere, Nicholas – I'm sorry about..."

"Thanks, Maddie," Guinevere replied grimly.

"Hi, guys," Mindy said. "We were all shocked to hear the news – how's Juno holding up."

"Not too good," Nicholas admitted. "I think she's gonna go all Hit Girl on the world in retaliation."

"I don't do that!" Mindy protested.

"Yes, you do," a voice off camera announced. "There was London, and then there was the entire of Europe, oh, and don't forget..."

"Bite me, Steph!" Mindy growled.

"Let's get down to business, shall we," Marty suggested and Maddie nodded as she checked over her mini-speech. "Maddie, please begin with your briefing."

"Thanks, Marty. Okay, it was a difficult night with some very mixed results. I have combed through reports from the FBI, ATF, National Guard, State Police, and a few other places where I did not belong – sorry, Mindy."

"No need to apologise for doing your job – continue."

"Thanks, Mindy. We can confirm the deaths of Gunter Schmidt (Head of Security) and of Anton Renke (Chief Operations Officer). Their bodies have been identified, bagged up, and carted off for autopsy at a military mortuary in San Francisco. Thirty-two of their mercenaries, a fairly even match of men and women have been bagged up – some were just pieces which remained after the main air bombardment but they were scooped up anyway – and have been sent to the same military mortuary. ATF agents have had a field day with what they found at the ranch house and surroundings. They want to know where Manheim obtained his Stinger SAMs as well as the heavy machine guns – they're investigating some irregularities in accounting at some National Guard armoury in San Diego which may shed some light on that. As for Mannheim and his family, no trace was found at or around the ranch house despite the use of dogs to scour the hilltop out to a one mile radius. However, my analysis of many reports covering several incidents which occurred throughout the early hours have drawn me to make certain conclusions."

"Such as?" Dave prompted.

"At three in the morning, we have a report received from a National Guard officer in which two soldiers were shot dead and their vehicle, a Humvee, stolen. About a mile away from the ranch house, at the far end of the Westwood Hills Park. The vehicle was believed to have been seen heading north, away from Napa City. Two hours later, a minivan was stolen from outside a house in Rutherford, some thirteen miles or so north of the ranch. A witness later saw the same minivan in Helena, a few miles further north, where they saw two people get in – one of those people appeared to be in a very bad way and needed help from the other passenger, and also from the driver. The Humvee was found, mostly burnt out, early this morning, in the hills west of Oakville. Initial evidence identified by the State Police showed that someone had lain in the back seat, and that the someone was bleeding heavily and that same someone went through several medical dressings. I'm sorry, but it seems very apparent that Dieter Mannheim, Karri Mannheim, and Otto Mannheim got through the cordon."

"So Logan died for fucking nothing!" a voice exploded at the San Francisco end of the call and Juno came into view, to stand beside Guinevere and Erika.

The young girl was obviously struggling with her grief, her expression one of extreme grief with her eyes puffed up from all the crying. Guinevere tried to hug the younger girl but Juno pulled away, her angry grief-filled eyes glaring directly at the camera. Guinevere felt anger of her own because she had tried to save the boy, but she had not had the skills.

"No, Juno," Mindy stated. "Logan did not die for nothing. Dieter Mannheim may have escaped, but his assets are now frozen, and he is a wanted fugitive. We have destroyed his organisation, both the Panther Organisation and the Tomahawk Group. The bastard is running, but he cannot run forever, that I can promise you. Maddie, please continue."

Juno stared down at the floor for a few moments before she bolted from the room.

"I have received a preliminary autopsy report," Maddie continued uneasily, "concerning Logan, and the doctor I spoke with had a single comment to make, and I quote: 'Even if that boy had been shot while he lay on a trolley in an operating theatre surrounded by doctors and nurses, he would have still had zero chance of survival; two key arteries were torn apart by the bullet which caused irreversible blood loss and death.' While the primary targets escaped, we killed two secondary targets, and we retrieved a large amount of intelligence data which is currently being sifted through. We have made a considerable dent in the Axis of Evil, having taken out some key members of the organisation. As I see it, it can only be downhill for the bastards now. Mannheim should show up at some stage, especially if he should try to leave the country. End of report."

"Thank you, Maddie for that," Mindy said. "We have lost Logan Dark. His loss will be felt throughout Fusion and Vengeance. I will be speaking with Guinevere, Nicholas, and Juno on a more personal level later on today. All our thoughts are with Team San Diego at this moment. However, we are at a crucial point in our war and as we head for New York, we are preparing to head even further north into the wilds of Canada where the unknown awaits us. While we know that it can be nothing good, we are no longer alone, and when we strike, we will strike harder than we have ever struck before, and we will win, ending this war for good!"

"Churchill you ain't!" Stephanie groaned

"You think you can do better, urchin?" Mindy challenged.

"Actually..."

"Thank you, Stephanie and Mindy!" Dave chuckled as he turned back to the screen and the briefing while he ignored Mindy and Stephanie who continued to bicker in the background. "We are standing Team San Diego down as of now and your team needs a rest as well, Erika."

"Dave...," Erika started but then she stopped speaking as Sky and Chrissy each put a hand to a shoulder.

"We are going to need you all before this is over, and I want you all rested and ready to respond, okay?"

"Yes, Dave," Erika conceded.

"Look after your team, Erika, and that includes the remaining members of Team San Diego. You need anything then you just pick up the phone, understand?"

"I will."

"That's all I ask," Dave confirmed with a friendly supportive smile.

"That goes for all of us," Marty added as the connection to THE PHOENIX faded.

"When are you coming back home," Maddie asked Erika pointedly.

"In a couple of days," Erika responded before she grinned fiendishly. "If it helps, I can send James back to keep you company in bed..."

"I . . . I can wait," a flustered Maddie responded as her cheeks turned pink.

"Maddie and James, sitting in a tree...," Chrissy and Sky sang.

"Grow up, you two!" Maddie growled as she cut the connection. "Say a word, Connor, and so help me God."

Connor wisely just sat silently on the couch grinning.

A few hours later, in another
time zone, far to the east...

The following morning...
Sunday, July 2nd

22:17 GMT-5 (03:17 GMT July 2nd)

74th Street & Damien
Chicago, Illinois

Fortune and Ember exchanged a glance as they drew their own blades and they charged the masses.

Neither was fearless as many would have thought. Fear was important. Fear kept you alive. Both felt fear as they faced down the masses before them. However, while they might have felt fear, they did not show it, and that single fact gave them an edge over their adversaries. Indeed, both vigilantes knew that they were being supported from all sides and were not simply running into danger alone. But from the opposing point of view, the sight of two vigilante females running headlong to what could only be their deaths unnerved those who faced off against the angry vigilante females who bore down upon them, their blades drawn and held ready to strike. Were they nuts, or did they know something? While most believed Hit Girl to be several cans short of a six pack, most of her minions appeared to be only missing a single can, and nobody could deny that Fusion was made up of some very intelligent people. Intelligent enough to run headlong to their deaths? Not a fucking chance! They had a plan to win, and that was what unnerved those disciples of Zechariah Porter.

Indeed, it was unnerving the man himself.

..._...

His perfectly laid plan was coming apart faster than he could repair it.

Everywhere was pandemonium even as men and women – his disciples – fought for their very lives against armour-clad masked vigilantes. His superior numbers were dwindling fast as those who would normally not dare to oppose him, chose to throw their proverbial hats into the ring with Fusion. His hold on his disciples was absolute – kind of. His disciples would fight for him, to the death on occasion, but the yells and screams coming from all around told him that his people were not just fighting mere two-legged vigilantes. Indeed, as he turned to check out one particularly bloodcurdling scream, he spied something with four legs, a lot of very sharp teeth, and the mentality of a canine Hit Girl – in short, the animal was a real bitch! The body armour bore the legend SIREN and the animal seemed hungry for blood as she flew the air and landed on a man who was shoved to the ground by the weight of the armour-clad dog. The man's hands fought to keep the gnashing drooling fangs away from his delicate flesh, but that was not to be as claws dragged at his own body armour, pulling the pearly white teeth ever closer. The man screamed. Being struck by bullets was one thing but being torn to shreds by a carnivorous canine was something else entirely and not what he had signed up for.

As for Siren, she was in her element. The trained animal knew who the enemy were, and she knew how to put that enemy down while protecting her two-legged companions. Indeed, Siren, just like her brothers and sisters, enjoyed wearing her mask and body armour, and all that it entailed. It allowed her to 'misbehave' and get away with behaviour which her owner, Megan, would never normally allow nor tolerate. The dog also enjoyed the hunt, especially in the dead of night, and Siren was alone amongst her litter in being the number one when it came to stalking – not that she needed her stalking skills in urban territory where the supply of 'targets' was plentiful and those targets made a lot of noise to the point of making stealth unnecessary. Only, Siren did not care as long as she was having fun.

Not far from her, her brother, Blade, was savagely mauling a large man, dragging the muscular man to the ground and then biting the hand which held a large-bore pistol encouraging the man to drop the weapon to the ground, his hand dripping blood and ripped to shreds. The snarling animal was a force to be reckoned with and the man felt real fear for the first time in many years, not least because he caught sight of another canine slinking towards him. Sampson was inbound to assist his brother – the pair often worked together; their extra muscle and bulk meant that together they could take down just about any human target. Not that Blade needed help that night, so Sampson turned away and he sprang at the nearest target, Zechariah Porter himself.

The man yelled as the masked mutt flew at him and instinctively, the man raised his left arm to deflect the oncoming teeth.

..._...

Phosphor found herself fighting alongside the new apprentice.

"Having fun, Valerian?"

"It's okay, I suppose," Valerian responded.

Phosphor laughed at the younger girl.

"Okay?"

"I find this sort of fighting a bit easy," the girl responded as she took an ASP across some poor bitch's skull, dropping the woman like a sack of potatoes.

"You really are a little too sure of yourself, girl!"

"Coming from you, fucking hussy!"

"When we get back...!"

"You really need to pay more attention to your surroundings, Phosphor," Valerian growled as she pulled her pistol and shot a man who was about to clobber the older girl.

"Funny," Phosphor growled as she decided to leave Valerian to her fighting and the young Canadian vigilante soon vanished into the swirling throng.

"Do you just like pissing her off, is that it?" a voice shouted from close by.

Valerian twisted her head momentarily to catch sight of Ninja Girl.

"Aren't you in the wrong city?"

"I never was good with directions," the Vancouver Ninja laughed as she parried a deadly machete away from her left leg. "Chicago – Vancouver; they're similar sounding, you get me?"

"You're fucking weird!" Valerian responded as she ran at a woman who was bleeding from a bad shoulder wound.

"You can always go back to your shitty container on the docks."

"Fuck that!"

Ninja Girl laughed. The pair of them had shared some special time in said sordid container and then the younger of the pair had gained a new life as a reward for keeping the older of the pair alive. As a result, Ninja Girl had a soft spot for Valerian, despite her brusque attitude. The news that the youngster would be joining them in Vancouver in the coming weeks was a welcome one as they needed to bolster their numbers in Concord. The world was becoming an ever more dangerous place and they needed to be ready to fight whatever may come their way.

However, until then, they had a fight to win.

..._...

Fortune and Ember fought as a matched pair, not far from where Hawk and Lynx fought as a second matched pair, each pair complimenting and protecting the backs of the other as they fought.

It was not often that Hawk and Lynx were seen out on the streets of Chicago and their appearance had garnered a lot of attention as video of the fight was streamed live on the internet via various social media sites. As a general rule, vigilantes fighting on the streets were worth a look, but when those vigilantes were females with amazing curves in figure-hugging body armour – well, the hit count for the video stream was increasing almost as fast as the National Debt. Even better, if those hot vigilante chicks could fight in a bloody manner, then it was simply a geek's wet dream ten times over and most simply went into sensory overload and rapidly ordered a bulk buy of tissues from Costco. Those social media websites dedicated to Fusion vigilantes were going wild as people across the world followed their favourite vigilantes and cheered them on. Very soon, it was obvious that Fusion had stirred up a hornet's next and those hornets were the people who lived in those neighbourhoods. What might have once seemed impossible was now a reality, and they could finally fight for their own neighbourhood with more than a fighting chance at winning, thanks to Fusion levelling the playing field like a road roller over fresh black top.

As the night wore on, the co-called disciples of Zechariah Porter seemed to either die or slink away into the darkness. Then, when few were left, the remainder opted to surrender as they found themselves surrounded by snarling rabid creatures as well as the sharp-teethed dogs. As the Chicago Police Department swarmed the area along with ambulances and paramedics, Fusion quietly faded from the area and returned to their safehouse for a debrief. The streets while bloody were a mass of cheering as hundreds of Chicagoans realised that they could finally live safely without worrying about the likes of Zechariah Porter and his Southside Disciples.

Indeed, the two opposing gangs who guarded their local neighbourhoods chose to call a ceasefire as they celebrated their joint victory and quietly thanked Fusion for making it all possible despite their former grievances against said vigilante organisation.

23:58 GMT-5 (04:58 GMT July 2nd)

Training Facility Echo

Kim chuckled as she watched the animals eating.

"Difficult to tell the difference between them," she commented to Paige who laughed.

The two women were eating their own meals, all while watching the dogs chow down in their bowls like they had not been fed in a week – lots of loud slurping and chomping. Further over, they could also see the likes of Jasmine, Carrie, and Ella chowing down like they had not been fed in a week – lots of loud slurping, chomping, and burping. Joel was chatting with Rachel at another table, doing their best to ignore the likes of Leo and Billy who were taking immaturity to a new level. The two younger members had excelled that night, despite their only job being defence of the Fusion vehicles. Rachel was secretly very proud of her brother – not that she would publicly admit it; his head was big enough already, she had decided.

Not along after they had eaten, all the animals were fast asleep in their beds, leaving Tony Morgan to check all was well. The facility was not exactly silent, what with the continuous air conditioning required to make life below the ground manageable. However, the facility was not filled with as much noise as it often was when there were over fifty people present of all ages. Tony worried about his only son, currently flying somewhere over the North Atlantic Ocean on his way to New York. He also worried about the dozens of other men, women, boys, and girls who were putting their very lives at risk to save countless millions from a fate which had to be worse than death. However, Tony trusted the life of his son to the one person who could bring the world back onto an even keel and escape the looming nuclear Armageddon.

That person, simply put, was Hit Girl.

The following morning...
Sunday, July 2nd

11:07 GMT+1 (10:07 GMT July 2nd)

High Wycombe, England
United Kingdom

Victor Six One: Lynn Collins, Lauren Edwards, and Hunter Graves
Victor Sierra: Trevor Lai and Ewan Lai in Scourge

It was their fourth day of scouting the area, in search of a woman: Rosa Müller, and potentially two other women who were in the country for similar reasons, neither of which would appear to result in anything but harm for Rosa Müller and the three children with her.

Operating under the radar was also an issue but the local constabulary were aware of 'special operations underway in the area' and seemed to be ignoring the small black helicopter which darted around the skies, often at tree-top height. Aboard Scourge, Ewan made good use of a pair of powerful binoculars as well as the fuselage-mounted FLIR turret which provided a stabilised monochrome image of the ground below them. They had very little to go on, and it had only been that morning when they had been informed to look out for a 5-series BMW saloon with pale blue paintwork being driven by a lone female. Not an easy feat in a very busy town in a very busy part of the country full of busy people busily going about their busy day. Indeed, Lynn and her observers were busily checking out the busy streets looking for their lone target – not an easy task by any means!

The kids were having a lot of fun and it got them out of the safehouse which meant less damage at said safehouse. It also allowed them to get out into the big wide world and explore. For the both of them, being in a foreign country was still a novelty and though they had both been exposed to British culture back in Chicago, it was different witnessing it all live and undiluted. Being Americans themselves, they were also very good at identifying fellow Americans which Lauren managed to accomplish while Lynn was parked up on Church Street for a coffee break.

"Eyes to ten o'clock," Lauren advised as her eyes followed a woman walking towards High Street. "Dark blue jeans and a lightweight brown jacket – bit warm for wearing a jacket don't you think? She's a Yank."

"I have her," Hunter acknowledged.

"I have her," Lynn added. "Time for a stroll?"

"Anything for some fresh air," Lauren groaned. "Hunter smells."

"I do not!" the boy responded somewhat defensively.

"Enough!" Lynn growled before the bickering got out of hand. "You both armed?"

"Yes!" came the dual response.

As was normal for the town centre, the noise was constant. The shoppers moving from shop to shop. The noisy children running and yelling. The busy A40 Abbey Way dual carriageway. All in all, it was the perfect environment to be tracking a person – especially if you were behaving like a shopper with two noisy children. Lynn was not totally convinced that the bickering was only play acting, but it did the job and nobody paid her nor Lauren and Hunter a moment's glance as the two laughed and did their best to avoid one another as they dodged in and out of the milling shoppers. Their target was a mere fifty yards ahead of them and making a check of parked cars she passed. Most importantly, she was paying attention to parked Range Rovers which indicated exactly what she was doing in High Wycombe – she was tracking down Rosa and the children, much like they were. In her ear, as she walked, Lynn was receiving a briefing from a safehouse in London.

"We have a positive facial recognition match," Princess Mary briefed. "Miranda Frost landed at Heathrow soon after Rosa on the 29th June. The woman is not a nice person. She renounced her British nationality and now travels under an American passport. Be warned, she has been known to kill but nothing has been proven. She is known to Box and they allowed her into the country as she has no outstanding warrants, but she is a person of interest although no assets were assigned to her on entry to the country. She is registered as staying at the Holiday Inn at Junction 4 of the M40. She is to be considered dangerous and most probably armed. Take care, guys."

"Thanks, Mary," Lynn replied. "We will."

They knew that the woman would be dangerous, but it was useful to have that confirmed, even if just to remind everyone of that fact.

11:07 GMT+1 (10:07 GMT July 2nd)

Holiday Inn
M40, Junction 4

Victor Six Two: Natasha King, Jordan Montgomery, and Lizzie Edwards

As soon as the news that Miranda Frost had been spotted, just a few miles away, had filtered through to Victor Six Two, the team had made directly for the hotel identified by Mary.

"That is just creepy!" Lizzie complained as Jordan pulled a couple of items from the inside of his false leg.

"Dead space – might as well store some shit in there," Jordan commented with a broad grin as he inserted the access card retrieved from his leg into the slot on the door above the handle.

The door clicked and an LED flashed green. After both youngsters took a quick look up and down the corridor, and with Jordan providing cover with the Glock 26 pistol which had also been retrieved from his false leg, Lizzie pushed open the door, careful to touch as little as possible, despite the fact that both wore latex gloves on their hands. They were both about to search the room belonging to a master assassin who would probably have left a host of tell-tales to show her if anybody had been in her room while she had been away. Identifying the room had been child's play, but only to a point. Jordan scowled as he ran his eyes over the room, his pistol still raised.

"This is a fucking setup!" he growled.

"How so?" Lizzie asked.

"Too perfect – look, that case laying wide open; come on!" The boy pushed open the door to the bathroom with the muzzle of his pistol.

"Ewww!" Lizzie exclaimed as she watched Jordan stick his head down inside the toilet bowl.

"Unused – they said the room had not been cleaned; ergo Frost doesn't pee like the rest of us mere humans or she has another room, either at this hotel, or at another hotel.

"But the bed looks used..."

"Ruffled up duvet but the sheet underneath is pristine – see?"

"Oh."

"Victor Six Two, Belle, over!"

"Go ahead, Belle," Natasha said from the car.

"We've traced the credit card used to book the room at the Holiday Inn and we've found a second credit card issued at the same time which was used to pay for a Tesco collection, yesterday morning," Mary advised.

"Why would you get food from Tesco when you're staying at a hotel?" Jordan queried rhetorically. "She's got a safehouse – or maybe she's squatting."

"That sounds disgusting," Lizzie commented.

Jordan laughed. "A squatter breaks into empty properties and lays claim to the property. She's a wily one and probably has contacts who would lend her a property for a few days – no questions asked."

"A bright boy!" Natasha chuckled.

"I know," Jordan grinned.

"Honestly!" Lizzie scowled.

"Let's move," Natasha ordered. "We need to get into a position where we can trail Frost once she gets back on the road. We can hopefully trail her home with the assistance of Scourge."

With that, Jordan and Lizzie ran back outside and climbed into the waiting Range Rover.

About that same time...

11:38 GMT+1 (10:38 GMT July 2nd)

Hamilton Road, High Wycombe

The children had been getting very restless, what with being stuck inside most of the time and with only a back garden for exercise, not to mention that tempers were getting a little frayed as said children quickly became bored and sniped at one another.

Rosa's temper was also getting strained as she fought to control the wayward children, especially her own daughter who always seemed to be in the centre of the latest ruckus. As for Leo, he generally kept the children at arm's length much for his own sanity as for anything else. His mind was focused on their security and for the past few hours that morning, he had been strolling around the neighbourhood checking out the immediate area for the sixth time since their arrival. He had returned to the house just a few minutes after eleven o'clock and he was enjoying a welcome mug of tea in the kitchen when he suddenly felt something in his gut and a nagging feeling that he had missed something or that something was missing. He placed the mug of tea down on the kitchen side and then looked around, listening.

He could hear Cara and Hahn sniping at each other in the living room as the boy went out of his way to annoy the older girl. However, there was something amiss. Leo walked out into the garden only to find Rosa sitting alone on a bench. Ignoring Rosa's questioning look, Leo swiftly ran back into the house and into the living room where he grabbed Cara by the arm.

"Go find Wanda," he directed.

Cara nodded and the girl vanished upstairs only to reappear a minute later.

"She's not upstairs."

"Shit!" Leo swore before he bellowed, "WANDA!"

"What's wrong?" Rosa demanded as she appeared from the garden.

"Wanda's missing," Leo stated matter-of-factly.

Rosa's face went very pale as her mind processed the information.

11:30 GMT+1 (10:30 GMT July 2nd)

The thirteen-year-old girl had had enough of being cooped up with her brother and Cara.

She could see no reason for all the cloak and dagger nonsense; she wanted to enjoy the fresh air as she walked down the street, taking in the sun as she explored a new country. Above all, she wanted to go shopping. The house in which she had spent the previous days was just over a mile from the town centre – an easy walk for a girl her age. She had sneaked out of the house and then turned left out of the driveway before she had turned right onto Amersham Hill, where she had begun walking down the tree-lined road. The sun was warm on her bare shoulders, arms and legs. Dressed in little more than a pair of short pink shorts and a thin-strapped white top over her sports bra, she wore purple running shoes on her feet. Over her shoulder she carried a small purse which held her money – US Dollars; maybe she could change the notes somewhere for whatever they used in England, she thought – and her debit card which she hoped would work in the English shops. To finish off her outfit, she wore a set of dark sunglasses and a plain purple baseball cap.

As she walked down the road, she enjoyed the glances she received from boys her own age who would gaze at her long tanned legs. She did not care that everyone could tell she was a mere tourist nor that she was dressed like an American, despite having been born in Germany – a country she had only visited twice in her entire life. To the young teen, the foreign adventure was just that, an adventure. Her mind saw no danger, and her upbringing had protected her from the worst which the world could offer, and she had little concept of danger – that was what her protective security was for she knew. The fact that she was wandering around a foreign country without her usual protective security had not clicked in her young mind where that issue was about number 234 in her current list of priorities with a fast-food lunch at number 1.

It did not take the girl long to reach the town centre and her eyes lit up at the sight of all the shops.

..._...

Fifteen minutes later, the youngster could not have been happier as she had her mouth wrapped around a Big Mac.

It was the first 'real' food she had tasted in days. Excitedly, she looked around at the varied shop fronts and the dozens of people milling about, many with bags of recently bought items clutched in their hands. Her eyes were everywhere and nowhere at the same time as she absorbed a very different culture to that she was used to. In all fairness to the girl, she had had no chance, none at all. She was up against the very best and she had no idea that there were many people out looking for her, and the odds were not in her favour. She knew Miranda Frost by sight, having seen her around her father, once or twice. If the doomed teenager had actually seen the woman, she would have realised how dire her decision to leave the safehouse had been. But at the very moment when Frost laid eyes on the girl, Wanda was looking skyward at the helicopter which had just buzzed overhead, the sound having captured her attention as she swallowed the last of her Big Mac.

Then everything moved very fast.

..._...

Lauren Edwards cocked her head to one side as she laid eyes on the curiously dressed girl in the purple baseball cape.

The clothing screamed 'I'm an American!' – and looked 'really cheesy' in Lauren's mind. Despite Lauren herself being an American, she preferred not to scream it out to everyone when she was abroad and she was dressed very much like all the other British youngsters enjoying the sunshine. Lauren was taller than the other girl with longer legs, but a lot less tanned – Chicago had a slightly different climate to Los Angeles, after all . . . then it clicked.

"I have Solitaire!" she declared over her radio. "Solitaire is in the open . . . damn; Frosty's seen her!"

Lynn was a dozen yards away and she clocked the pale blue 5-series BMW just beyond Frost. Lynn turned and she bolted for her own vehicle eighty yards distant. Hunter reached for his firearm but swiftly thought better of it; there were too many civilians floating about to allow a pistol to be used safely. Instead, he deployed an ASP and he moved into a position to support Lauren who had also deployed an ASP. Lauren groaned inside as she realised that Solitaire – their codename for Wanda – had no idea what was about to happen. Frost turned at the sound of Hunter deploying his ASP and that gave Lauren the opportunity to move in towards Wanda and grab her by the left wrist.

"Get away from me!" Wanda blurted out as she yanked her wrist back from Lauren, unwittingly sealing her fate.

Frost deployed an ASP of her own and she slashed out at Lauren, the tip of the asp cutting deep into the girl's left upper arm. Lauren screamed out as she brought her own ASP around, narrowly missing her intended target, even as Hunter struck Frost around the right thigh, eliciting a grunt of pain. Lauren went for a punch which was intercepted and Lauren went down hard onto the brick surface at her feet, grazing her bare legs as she landed. Then Hunter yelled out as a running child crashed into him, the child not having seen Hunter step back away from Frost. Hunter rolled on the ground and rapidly came back up to his feet in time to see a McDonald's disposable cup falling to the ground even as he heard a car door slam a few feet away.

"Solitaire's been taken!" he said over the radio as he watched the BMW accelerate away.

Hunter had just hauled the wounded Lauren to her feet when there was the sound of complaining tyres and the Jaguar XJR 575 slewed to a halt a dozen yards away as Lynn leaned on the horn to attract their attention. The moment Hunter and Lauren were aboard, Lynn floored the accelerator and the monstrous five-litre V8 roared in earnest as almost six-hundred horses hauled the massive saloon up to speed as they pursued the BMW.

"Scourge, Victor Six One, in pursuit of pale blue BMW 5-series saloon, headed east . . . no, south on the A404," Lynn reported as she hauled the sports saloon around the Magic Roundabout, the rear tyres screeching as they fought to grip the tarmac.

The other motorists on the road raced to get out of the way of the surging feline thoroughbred.

High above...

Victor Sierra: Trevor Lai and Ewan Lai in Scourge

Ewan's eyes were glued to the FLIR as he tracked the BMW as it raced down the urban dual-carriageway below.

Trevor kept his machine off to the left of the A404 as he trailed the racing saloons. His eyes flicked back and forth between the road ahead, his own controls, and the airspace around him. He could see traffic building up not too far ahead not to mention a T-junction with a minor B-road joining the faster A-road. The BMW was fast, but the Jaguar had the edge and was gaining fast but Lynn was impeded by other vehicles on the road and she had to negotiate those casual drivers as she closed on the BMW. But Miranda Frost was an expert driver and she pushed the German car hard as she raced for the motorway and, she hoped, escape.

As Trevor and Ewan watched, the BMW accelerated just as the lights turned to green and the saloon blasted through a small gap between two other motorists. However, that manoeuvre sent an errant Peugeot into the path of the racing Jaguar. Over the open comms, they heard Lauren's horrified scream and the screech of the protesting tyres which matched the sight of the powerful saloon's tyres smoking as they and the brakes fought to stop the charging Jaguar before a dramatic and deadly impact with the Peugeot at high speed.

With their attention on the Jaguar and their friends, the BMW continued on towards the M40 motorway junction.

End of PART VIII