The Case of the Black Lion--Chapter 3
by HA
Wiping her eyes, Shirley sighed as she looked at her laptop screen. Her suspicions had been confirmed thanks to Google, and her printer hummed loudly as it coughed out pages of information. Watson, her pet basset hound, kept close to her, his droopy eyes occasionally looking upward at his mistress.
After the hug, her mother asked her about what happened. As her family gathered around her, Shirley told them about the man and the shooting while conveniently leaving out the part where she was shot at. She didn't want them to worry too much, and admitting she was the top target of an international criminal society would've tipped them off to her detective work. Dr. Holmes told her to get some sleep, and she assured her mother she would.
As soon as her family went to bed, Shirley went online and did some research on the tattoo. During that time, she recalled how the shooter had fired first at the waiter, then pointed his weapon in her direction and fired again. Yume had shoved her in time, and the bullet embedded itself above her. Now and then, she paused and shivered, but composed herself as best as she could and returned to the information search. It took her a while, but she found what she was looking for, and she was eager to present her findings to her sleuthing partners the next morning, especially Blake.
Visualizing Blake's face, Shirley blushed and frowned at her laptop. She tried to focus on the web document before her, but Blake continued to dominate her thoughts. She still wondered why Blake had been aloof around her lately, especially during the previous night's date. He had been polite, but he didn't show any affection for her beyond that of a friend. She traced this sudden change in behavior to when he had been blackmailed by Molly Hardy, and her imagination conjured images of revenge upon her blond archrival despite her attempts at suppressing them.
The ringing of her cell phone brought her back to her senses, and she grabbed it quickly. "Hello?"
"Shirley?"
"Bo?" she answered, and her disappointment leaked into her voice. "What are you doing up still?"
"Couldn't sleep," Bo said. "Wanted to see how you were doing."
"How'd you know I was still awake?" Shirley asked.
Bo paused. "I just knew," he said finally. "So, what's up?"
"I've found some information that might explain everything," Shirley said as the final page printed out. She took it into her hands. "I'm rather interested in what Lucy had to say. She recognized that tattoo on the waiter's arm, and I'd like to..."
"Shirley, you could've been killed."
Silence filled the room, and Shirley stared at her phone. "Bo, I'm okay." Her hand shook. "It's not the first time the ENIGMA organization has tried to kill me."
"Yeah, but if it hadn't been for Yume, you would've died," Bo said. "Look, I know you want to find out why they're here, but..."
Shirley listened closely, but Bo seemed to be searching for the right words. Every since they became friends, he'd always tried to look out for her whenever he could, at now, his concern touched her. She remembered his hand on her shoulder, and her cheeks reddened. "They can't make another move like that," she told her friend while silently being thankful he couldn't see her face. "You know they can't."
"They also know you'll stick your nose into things," Bo reminded her. "They count on that."
"Lucy definitely knows something," Shirley said.
"Should I really be surprised?"
"Bo..."
"Shirley, remember the last time the Strangers tried to help you?"
"I'm aware of that, but we pulled through." She eyed her printer as it produced the final page. "I found some interesting stuff online."
Bo sighed. "I'm looking forward to it."
Shirley paused. "Bo," she began, "what did you and Blake talk about?"
She heard gulping on Bo's side. "Oh, we just talked."
"About what?" she said.
"Just stuff." Bo cleared his throat. "Maybe you two should talk."
"I think we will," Shirley said firmly, her hold on her cell phone tightening slightly.
"Well, since you're okay, I'll let you go." Shirley heard Bo gulp again. "See you tomorrow."
"Bo?"
A brief pause. "Yes?"
"Thanks," she blurted.
A louder gulp. "Night." He hung up, leaving Shirley to ponder her printouts. When Blake's face came to mind, she blushed and made a better effort at concentrating on the task at hand.
At the Sawchuk residence, Bo put down the receiver and refocused on the sandwich before him and wondered if his best friend was indeed all right. As he finished his mug of warm milk, he thought back to the Cafe and told himself how lucky she was. Then, he recalled the hug and his hand on her shoulder, and he stopped himself from biting into salami, cheese, mayo, and lettuce. He replayed the talk with Blake in his mind, and the feeling of a pair of soft lips touching his cheek came back to him. He put the sandwich down and began banging his head against the kitchen table.
Meanwhile, Blake was online as well, and he was sure Shirley would be interested in what he had found so far. When he recalled the blue-eyed sleuth, he sighed. He gazed at the monitor, and then he looked at the photo near the mousepad. He focused on the little freckled red-haired girl standing next to his newly turned six-year-old self while giving him bunny ears. Then, the girl's face changed to Shirley's and back again repeatedly. Blinking, Blake leaned back in his chair and sighed.
At the home of the Knight family, Lucy closed her eyes after staring at the ceiling. Then, she heard a beep coming from her bedside table. Blinking, she reached for her comlink and turned it on. C.D. appeared on its screen.
"Hey," he said as he straightened out his hair.
"Hey." Lucy answered in a low voice. "So, what's up?"
"Both of us now," C.D. answered, and he smiled feebily. "Just wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry about waking you up."
"You don't have to apologize. I couldn't go to sleep," Lucy admitted.
"Neither could I," C.D said, and Lucy saw the blush forming on his face. "Still worried?"
"A little," Lucy said. "Can't believe it's been four years."
"Yeah," C.D. said, his face clear again. "Thought they were all gone."
"Looks like not all of them," Lucy said.
C.D. sighed. "Here we go again."
"I guess so," Lucy said. "Brings back memories," she added with a smile.
"Yeah." C.D. bowed his head, but Lucy noticed the returning blush on his face. "So you're going to tell her, huh?"
"She has to know," Lucy said, "and yes, Arthur wants me to tell her."
"But in the usual way."
"Of course," Lucy said, frowning.
C.D. broke the momentary silence that followed those words. "So, where's it going to happen again?"
"Her house after school," Lucy answered.
"I'm taking you there," C.D. said firmly.
"You don't have to," Lucy said. "Dad's chauffeur can..."
"Well, I'm going to anyway," C.D said. "You know how Damian was after he and Tomie lost that guy."
"Yeah." Lucy gulped deeply, and her face heated up. "Thanks...thanks for everything."
C.D. looked down. "No...no problem." He gulped deeply. "I'm glad you're all right. If anything happened to you..."
Lucy felt her face geting hotter. "C.D...." she whispered.
C.D. kept his head down. "Despite all that happened back then, I'm grateful to God for one thing."
"What?"
"Meeting you."
Silence. C.D. looked up, and Lucy met his gaze. Then, they looked down again, their blushing very evident.
"I've gotta go," he said quickly. "I'll pick you up after school, then."
"Okay, bye," Lucy said seconds before the comlink screen went off. Returning the device to its resting place, she laid back and closed her eyes. A small smile crossed her face.
* * * * *
With his mask, gear, and coat in a duffel bag, the failed killer returned to his motel room. He made sure the blinds were drawn over the room's window. After smearing the sweat on his brow onto his dark hair, he fished out his key and unlocked the door to his room, and after looking side to side, he dashed inside without noticing the sole red car in the parking lot.
"Next time," he muttered as he closed the door and reached for the light switch.
"I doubt it."
Flicking the lights on, he looked towards the source of the accented voice, and when he saw who was there, he gasped. His eyes widened, and his knees began to tremble.
Two figures stood before him. A tall man in the same coat and mask stood silently with his head bowed. Beside him stood a woman in a red military fatigues with her arms crossed behind her back. A red beret sat atop shortly trimmed blond locks, and a white emotionless mask covered her face. She looked at him through two eyeholes.
"N-N-Number Five," the shooter managed to say. A long time ago, he had been taught women were only good for breeding, housekeeping, pleasure, and nothing else. They were frail creatures, he had been told, and since they were weak, men easily dominated them. Women were nothing, and he had nothing to fear from them. However, he knew that wasn't the case here, and he turned towards the door. He felt a quick breeze blow past him, and when he laid eyes on his only exit, the woman was standing there.
"Number Six-Four-Five told me something interesting," she said, motioning towards the giant, who was fidgeting under her gaze. "He told me you left for the Red Zone after we heard that little rumor."
"It was no rumor," the shooter said without thinking while looking at the giant, who kept his head down. "He is here, and I came here to kill him for what he did."
"Interesting." A red gloved hand cupped Number Five's chin. "Basically, you disobeyed orders and came here to settle your own vendetta, yes?" The shooter nodded silently. "I must admit, your loyalty is commendible, but it is sadly misplaced at the moment." She walked towards him. "Have you forgotten the loyalty oath you took when you joined us?"
"N-N-N-no, Number Five," the shooter stuttered, "but he must pay for..."
"You know what we do to traitors," Number Five said. "I personally dispatched a traitor to our organization recently." She flexed her hand, which the shooter eyed as his body continued to tremble. "Do you wish to join him?" The shooter shook his head vigorously, and the giant was trembling as Number Five paced around the room. "I don't know, however..."
"Know what, Number Five?" the shooter said, his hands shaking.
"Whether I should be angry because you disobeyed orders or because you failed." Number Five faced the shooter. "You know you have violated the Red Zone Directive, do you not?" Seeing him nod repeatedly, she spoke further. "Not only did you fail to kill your target, but you failed to kill the Holmes girl."
"A fluke!" he blurted out. "Someone shoved her down just before..."
"Silence!"
He fell silent, and Number Five paced around him. "Now," she said, "our client is most displeased with your actions. You knew how he'd react, correct?"
"Yes, but if I had succeeded..."
"But you didn't," Number Five said, facing him again. "He gave us a specific plan to follow, and your bungled shooting may have ruined everything."
"Number Five, I can try again, and I won't fail this ti..."
She raised her hand to his face, and he stopped himself from talking any further. "The detective knows we are here, and it won't be long before the police are involved." She pointed at her underling. "Under the Red Zone Directive, I am in charge here now, and you will take no further action without my order, is that clear?"
"It is, it is," the shooter said.
Number Five jabbed a finger towards the giant. "Your friend here is loyal to our client, but he knows who he serves now." As the giant nodded, the shooter looked at the bandage wrapped around his neck. "If we complete this assignment, we will benefit greatly. Failure is not an option."
"No, it isn't," the shooter answered quickly.
The white mask leaned into the shooter's face, and a red gloved finger stroked his chin. "Two of my fellow Elite Eight members have failed thanks to that detective, and I will not join them in disgrace," Number Five said as the other's teeth chattered loudly. The noise stopped once the finger left his chin. "Understood?"
The shooter nodded while trying to form "Yes" on his lips. Instead, strange sounds escaped his lips while his eyes remained wide open with fear.
"Now then, our client will be here in Redington in a day or two." Number Five turned to the wall. "He has new instructions for us, and he wants them followed to the letter this time. He desires your full cooperation."
"Of...of course," he stuttered.
"You'll be happy to know he wants to deal with that problem as well, and if things work out, we'll take care of it along with our main target and the detective." She looked at her subordinate. "He wants you to carry out the kill."
"Ah. He is too kind, especially after my failure."
"Pack up. We are going now," she said. "The manager here has become very suspicious of you."
"H-h-how? I took very specific..."
"Apparently, they weren't good enough." Number Five looked at the giant. "He was on the phone with the police when we stopped by, and I wish not to be here when he awakens." She flexed her fingers as she looked at the wall. "Now, to leave something for the detective to learn about..."
The shooter gulped as he eyed her fingers.
by HA
Wiping her eyes, Shirley sighed as she looked at her laptop screen. Her suspicions had been confirmed thanks to Google, and her printer hummed loudly as it coughed out pages of information. Watson, her pet basset hound, kept close to her, his droopy eyes occasionally looking upward at his mistress.
After the hug, her mother asked her about what happened. As her family gathered around her, Shirley told them about the man and the shooting while conveniently leaving out the part where she was shot at. She didn't want them to worry too much, and admitting she was the top target of an international criminal society would've tipped them off to her detective work. Dr. Holmes told her to get some sleep, and she assured her mother she would.
As soon as her family went to bed, Shirley went online and did some research on the tattoo. During that time, she recalled how the shooter had fired first at the waiter, then pointed his weapon in her direction and fired again. Yume had shoved her in time, and the bullet embedded itself above her. Now and then, she paused and shivered, but composed herself as best as she could and returned to the information search. It took her a while, but she found what she was looking for, and she was eager to present her findings to her sleuthing partners the next morning, especially Blake.
Visualizing Blake's face, Shirley blushed and frowned at her laptop. She tried to focus on the web document before her, but Blake continued to dominate her thoughts. She still wondered why Blake had been aloof around her lately, especially during the previous night's date. He had been polite, but he didn't show any affection for her beyond that of a friend. She traced this sudden change in behavior to when he had been blackmailed by Molly Hardy, and her imagination conjured images of revenge upon her blond archrival despite her attempts at suppressing them.
The ringing of her cell phone brought her back to her senses, and she grabbed it quickly. "Hello?"
"Shirley?"
"Bo?" she answered, and her disappointment leaked into her voice. "What are you doing up still?"
"Couldn't sleep," Bo said. "Wanted to see how you were doing."
"How'd you know I was still awake?" Shirley asked.
Bo paused. "I just knew," he said finally. "So, what's up?"
"I've found some information that might explain everything," Shirley said as the final page printed out. She took it into her hands. "I'm rather interested in what Lucy had to say. She recognized that tattoo on the waiter's arm, and I'd like to..."
"Shirley, you could've been killed."
Silence filled the room, and Shirley stared at her phone. "Bo, I'm okay." Her hand shook. "It's not the first time the ENIGMA organization has tried to kill me."
"Yeah, but if it hadn't been for Yume, you would've died," Bo said. "Look, I know you want to find out why they're here, but..."
Shirley listened closely, but Bo seemed to be searching for the right words. Every since they became friends, he'd always tried to look out for her whenever he could, at now, his concern touched her. She remembered his hand on her shoulder, and her cheeks reddened. "They can't make another move like that," she told her friend while silently being thankful he couldn't see her face. "You know they can't."
"They also know you'll stick your nose into things," Bo reminded her. "They count on that."
"Lucy definitely knows something," Shirley said.
"Should I really be surprised?"
"Bo..."
"Shirley, remember the last time the Strangers tried to help you?"
"I'm aware of that, but we pulled through." She eyed her printer as it produced the final page. "I found some interesting stuff online."
Bo sighed. "I'm looking forward to it."
Shirley paused. "Bo," she began, "what did you and Blake talk about?"
She heard gulping on Bo's side. "Oh, we just talked."
"About what?" she said.
"Just stuff." Bo cleared his throat. "Maybe you two should talk."
"I think we will," Shirley said firmly, her hold on her cell phone tightening slightly.
"Well, since you're okay, I'll let you go." Shirley heard Bo gulp again. "See you tomorrow."
"Bo?"
A brief pause. "Yes?"
"Thanks," she blurted.
A louder gulp. "Night." He hung up, leaving Shirley to ponder her printouts. When Blake's face came to mind, she blushed and made a better effort at concentrating on the task at hand.
At the Sawchuk residence, Bo put down the receiver and refocused on the sandwich before him and wondered if his best friend was indeed all right. As he finished his mug of warm milk, he thought back to the Cafe and told himself how lucky she was. Then, he recalled the hug and his hand on her shoulder, and he stopped himself from biting into salami, cheese, mayo, and lettuce. He replayed the talk with Blake in his mind, and the feeling of a pair of soft lips touching his cheek came back to him. He put the sandwich down and began banging his head against the kitchen table.
Meanwhile, Blake was online as well, and he was sure Shirley would be interested in what he had found so far. When he recalled the blue-eyed sleuth, he sighed. He gazed at the monitor, and then he looked at the photo near the mousepad. He focused on the little freckled red-haired girl standing next to his newly turned six-year-old self while giving him bunny ears. Then, the girl's face changed to Shirley's and back again repeatedly. Blinking, Blake leaned back in his chair and sighed.
At the home of the Knight family, Lucy closed her eyes after staring at the ceiling. Then, she heard a beep coming from her bedside table. Blinking, she reached for her comlink and turned it on. C.D. appeared on its screen.
"Hey," he said as he straightened out his hair.
"Hey." Lucy answered in a low voice. "So, what's up?"
"Both of us now," C.D. answered, and he smiled feebily. "Just wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry about waking you up."
"You don't have to apologize. I couldn't go to sleep," Lucy admitted.
"Neither could I," C.D said, and Lucy saw the blush forming on his face. "Still worried?"
"A little," Lucy said. "Can't believe it's been four years."
"Yeah," C.D. said, his face clear again. "Thought they were all gone."
"Looks like not all of them," Lucy said.
C.D. sighed. "Here we go again."
"I guess so," Lucy said. "Brings back memories," she added with a smile.
"Yeah." C.D. bowed his head, but Lucy noticed the returning blush on his face. "So you're going to tell her, huh?"
"She has to know," Lucy said, "and yes, Arthur wants me to tell her."
"But in the usual way."
"Of course," Lucy said, frowning.
C.D. broke the momentary silence that followed those words. "So, where's it going to happen again?"
"Her house after school," Lucy answered.
"I'm taking you there," C.D. said firmly.
"You don't have to," Lucy said. "Dad's chauffeur can..."
"Well, I'm going to anyway," C.D said. "You know how Damian was after he and Tomie lost that guy."
"Yeah." Lucy gulped deeply, and her face heated up. "Thanks...thanks for everything."
C.D. looked down. "No...no problem." He gulped deeply. "I'm glad you're all right. If anything happened to you..."
Lucy felt her face geting hotter. "C.D...." she whispered.
C.D. kept his head down. "Despite all that happened back then, I'm grateful to God for one thing."
"What?"
"Meeting you."
Silence. C.D. looked up, and Lucy met his gaze. Then, they looked down again, their blushing very evident.
"I've gotta go," he said quickly. "I'll pick you up after school, then."
"Okay, bye," Lucy said seconds before the comlink screen went off. Returning the device to its resting place, she laid back and closed her eyes. A small smile crossed her face.
* * * * *
With his mask, gear, and coat in a duffel bag, the failed killer returned to his motel room. He made sure the blinds were drawn over the room's window. After smearing the sweat on his brow onto his dark hair, he fished out his key and unlocked the door to his room, and after looking side to side, he dashed inside without noticing the sole red car in the parking lot.
"Next time," he muttered as he closed the door and reached for the light switch.
"I doubt it."
Flicking the lights on, he looked towards the source of the accented voice, and when he saw who was there, he gasped. His eyes widened, and his knees began to tremble.
Two figures stood before him. A tall man in the same coat and mask stood silently with his head bowed. Beside him stood a woman in a red military fatigues with her arms crossed behind her back. A red beret sat atop shortly trimmed blond locks, and a white emotionless mask covered her face. She looked at him through two eyeholes.
"N-N-Number Five," the shooter managed to say. A long time ago, he had been taught women were only good for breeding, housekeeping, pleasure, and nothing else. They were frail creatures, he had been told, and since they were weak, men easily dominated them. Women were nothing, and he had nothing to fear from them. However, he knew that wasn't the case here, and he turned towards the door. He felt a quick breeze blow past him, and when he laid eyes on his only exit, the woman was standing there.
"Number Six-Four-Five told me something interesting," she said, motioning towards the giant, who was fidgeting under her gaze. "He told me you left for the Red Zone after we heard that little rumor."
"It was no rumor," the shooter said without thinking while looking at the giant, who kept his head down. "He is here, and I came here to kill him for what he did."
"Interesting." A red gloved hand cupped Number Five's chin. "Basically, you disobeyed orders and came here to settle your own vendetta, yes?" The shooter nodded silently. "I must admit, your loyalty is commendible, but it is sadly misplaced at the moment." She walked towards him. "Have you forgotten the loyalty oath you took when you joined us?"
"N-N-N-no, Number Five," the shooter stuttered, "but he must pay for..."
"You know what we do to traitors," Number Five said. "I personally dispatched a traitor to our organization recently." She flexed her hand, which the shooter eyed as his body continued to tremble. "Do you wish to join him?" The shooter shook his head vigorously, and the giant was trembling as Number Five paced around the room. "I don't know, however..."
"Know what, Number Five?" the shooter said, his hands shaking.
"Whether I should be angry because you disobeyed orders or because you failed." Number Five faced the shooter. "You know you have violated the Red Zone Directive, do you not?" Seeing him nod repeatedly, she spoke further. "Not only did you fail to kill your target, but you failed to kill the Holmes girl."
"A fluke!" he blurted out. "Someone shoved her down just before..."
"Silence!"
He fell silent, and Number Five paced around him. "Now," she said, "our client is most displeased with your actions. You knew how he'd react, correct?"
"Yes, but if I had succeeded..."
"But you didn't," Number Five said, facing him again. "He gave us a specific plan to follow, and your bungled shooting may have ruined everything."
"Number Five, I can try again, and I won't fail this ti..."
She raised her hand to his face, and he stopped himself from talking any further. "The detective knows we are here, and it won't be long before the police are involved." She pointed at her underling. "Under the Red Zone Directive, I am in charge here now, and you will take no further action without my order, is that clear?"
"It is, it is," the shooter said.
Number Five jabbed a finger towards the giant. "Your friend here is loyal to our client, but he knows who he serves now." As the giant nodded, the shooter looked at the bandage wrapped around his neck. "If we complete this assignment, we will benefit greatly. Failure is not an option."
"No, it isn't," the shooter answered quickly.
The white mask leaned into the shooter's face, and a red gloved finger stroked his chin. "Two of my fellow Elite Eight members have failed thanks to that detective, and I will not join them in disgrace," Number Five said as the other's teeth chattered loudly. The noise stopped once the finger left his chin. "Understood?"
The shooter nodded while trying to form "Yes" on his lips. Instead, strange sounds escaped his lips while his eyes remained wide open with fear.
"Now then, our client will be here in Redington in a day or two." Number Five turned to the wall. "He has new instructions for us, and he wants them followed to the letter this time. He desires your full cooperation."
"Of...of course," he stuttered.
"You'll be happy to know he wants to deal with that problem as well, and if things work out, we'll take care of it along with our main target and the detective." She looked at her subordinate. "He wants you to carry out the kill."
"Ah. He is too kind, especially after my failure."
"Pack up. We are going now," she said. "The manager here has become very suspicious of you."
"H-h-how? I took very specific..."
"Apparently, they weren't good enough." Number Five looked at the giant. "He was on the phone with the police when we stopped by, and I wish not to be here when he awakens." She flexed her fingers as she looked at the wall. "Now, to leave something for the detective to learn about..."
The shooter gulped as he eyed her fingers.