A Little Out of The Ordinary

'Damn it. Damn it!'

'Oh dear. Um… is – is it supposed to be spurting like that?'

'Yes, Francois, normal arms look exactly like that.'

'Well, I'm not a doctor! How should I know?'

'Don't worry, I'll help –'

'ENOUGH!' Penny sat up straight from where she'd been hunched over the prone figure, glowering at them all. 'Bottomsley, you touch him, and I will snap your fingers. You've done enough. Francois, Madeline, stop bickering for five minutes and help me. And if you can't help then the very least you can do is keep quiet. We're in a bad situation, don't make it worse.'

The trio hesitated for a moment, surprised by her outburst, until Bernard went to sulk in the corner. Francois threw his hands in the air with a huff and stomped in the other direction, mumbling under his breath. To her credit, Madeline remained crouching down on the other side of the figure, though she looked very unsure of herself.

'Thank you,' Penelope murmured, going back to inspecting the wound.

'That's alright, I think we owe you a few by now,' Madeline replied. 'Francois will come around in a moment, he just has to have his tantrum before he can be helpful.'

Smiling ruefully, Penny reached into her clutch and pulled out the miniature first aid kit: a wonderful design by Brains intended to take up very little room while supplying everything she might need. Mostly bandages, which were definitely a must, that expanded once the plastic seal containing them was broken. 'This wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this.'

'He's your driver, isn't he?' Madeline asked, gesturing to the very much unconscious Parker. 'I'm sure he knew what he was signing up for.'

She froze in the middle of packing the wound. 'What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?'

'Penelope, dear –' Madeline squeezed her arm – 'You know I love you. And you know I've never told a soul that you work with International Rescue – although I have no idea what skulking around in the archives of an art gallery has to do with it. My point is you live a dangerous life. And I've known you for long enough that I know you'd never force anyone into that life with you. He knew what he was signing up for; and if he didn't and he didn't like it, he'd have quit by now. So, stop beating yourself up about it and let Bottomsley take the blame, okay?'

That was easier said than done, of course. Parker may very well have known what he was signing up for when he became employed as her driver, he may have even known what they were walking into today, but Penelope should have had a better handle on this.

Today's work was a little different to most days. Today's work was not for International Rescue, but for the GDF. It was supposed to be a simple mission too – a quick dash into the archives to verify a tip regarding a missing painting. The painting in question was the Portrait of a Young Man by Raphael, plundered by the Nazis during the Second World War and thought to be worth over a hundred million dollars. It had been falsely reported to have been found in 2012, but since then the case had gone cold. Only, Colonel Casey had received this tip just days ago, saying that it was gathering dust in the archives of this gallery. The gala upstairs – which was being held to raise money for a local arts group – was the perfect cover, and Penelope had been on the guest list anyway.

Why the GDF were interested was a mystery to her, but it seemed they weren't the only ones. The Lemaires had been snooping around in search of the painting too, having apparently received a similar tip. Of course, being the type of man that he was, Francois was insistent on getting the first footage of the piece and had dragged Madeline along for the ride (another interesting chapter in his biography, it would seem). Even then, the Lemaires did not pose much of an issue. They were distractions, yes, but not a threat. The threat was the black-market dealers who had been surveying the painting as they rounded the corner. The dealers who, of course, had assault rifles with them, and who Penny and Parker might have noticed earlier had they not been distracted by Bernard Bottomsley stumbling down the corridor after them. Apparently, he thought they were going to a private viewing and was intent on inviting himself along. Had he not been so loudly intoxicated, the dealers may not have noticed them at all, and Parker may not have wound up with a bullet in his shoulder.

Francois trudged back over to them. 'They've taken the painting,' he reported.

'Well, that explains why they're not shooting at us anymore,' Penny replied. She began wrapping the shoulder, apologising quietly as Parker moaned. It looked like he might be coming around soon.

'I'm sorry we messed things up for you,' Madeline said. Surprisingly, Francois nodded earnestly next to her.

'Oh, don't worry, darling.' Penny smiled. 'We'll get the painting next time. Although I daresay Colonel Casey will be disappointed.'

'Colonel Casey?' Francois frowned. 'Who's he?'

'She –' Madeline corrected – 'works for the GDF. Only, I didn't know you did, Penelope.'

'Only on occasion,' Penelope replied. She tapped Parker on the face. 'Wakey, wakey Parker. This is no place for a nap.'

Her driver groaned, opening his eyes blearily. 'Milady?'

A quick look at his eyes confirmed that he was indeed concussed. She administered one of Brains's special painkillers - strong enough to block the pain out enough that one could walk out of a building as though nothing had happened, whilst also being completely concussion friendly. Penny would have to drive him to her doctor afterwards, but that couldn't be helped. Perhaps on the way she could keep Parker awake by discussing what excuse they could possibly give him this time that would explain away a gunshot wound (after all, they couldn't use an assassination attempt every time).

'How are you feeling?' With Madeline's help, they got him to his feet.

'All the better for that.' He gestured to the needle, then looked around. 'Blighters got away, did they?'

'It seems they have this time,' Penelope said. 'Although, as I believe I've said before: never underestimate a Creighton-Ward.'

Madeline grinned at her. 'Sounds like you have a plan.'

'Indeed. But that's for another day. Come along Parker, let's get you seen to.' She looped their arms together. 'Francois, Madeline, do you need a ride home?'

Francois shook his head. 'That's quite alright, we brought the Bentley.'

'Excellent. Bernard?' The man looked up and opened his mouth to reply before Penny cut him off. 'Do make sure you sober up before you call yourself a cab.'