The following afternoon...
Wednesday, May 24th, 2017
16:27 GMT-7 (23:27 GMT May 24th)
Vancouver, Canada
The four friends were walking home from school – and taking their time about it – when Dylan received a secure text message.
The boy spent a minute decrypting and reading through the message before he uttered a happy exclamation.
"Got it!"
"What?" Ella asked as Dylan handed the phone to Jay.
"Synthesis has come through for us," Jay grinned as he quickly read through the message.
"Oh?" Carrie asked.
"That packaging we sent down to them," Dylan explained. "They were able to hack into the courier who delivered it and find the collection point for the package."
"And?" Ella prompted.
"It was collected from a residential address in Vancouver," Dylan finished.
"Time for Concord to pay them a visit," Ella grinned.
That evening
19:40 GMT-7 (02:40 GMT May 25th)
Safehouse Prime
There was the usual chaotic activity as the team geared up.
For once, the usual immature behaviour and crude banter were halved. They knew that they were standing into danger against some very nasty people who were dealing in nuclear weapons. Even Ella, who did not have the thorough training which Jay, Dylan, and Carrie had received, knew that they were not simply fighting common criminals. They had talked about it as a group and each had decided to push on and get to the end of the investigation, irrespective of the danger which awaited them. There was one pleasant surprise – sort of.
"Your motorcycle has been fixed - again," Dylan commented dryly as Carrie checked over the pristine machine.
Carrie looked over at Dylan and she pulled a sour expression at his comment, then she spied something attached to the machine. She pulled a sealed envelope off the handlebars and she opened it. Ella frowned as she saw Carrie's face quickly turn pale as all the blood drained away. Carrie grimaced before handing over a card which she had removed from the envelope to her cousin. Ella read the note and she grinned before turning to the boys.
"It's from Hit Girl," Ella advised her friends. "Apparently, Hit Girl is going to make a very personal visit to Vancouver to see Phosphor should Phosphor break her motorcycle again. There's also a few more bits about Phosphor not being able to ride for a while with a broken leg or a few damaged ribs."
"You really know how to piss people off, don't you, Carrie," Jay chuckled.
Carrie scowled as she finished adjusting her body armour.
20:00 GMT-7 (03:00 GMT May 25th)
North Vancouver
Forty minutes later, the three vigilantes were headed east along 12th Street.
"Head onto 11th Street and then take a left, up Sutherland Avenue," Coyote advised.
They rode in silence, looking around for anybody who might be tailing them, not to mention any law enforcement. They were entering a residential district which meant the chances of collateral damage was extremely high and not something they wanted.
"Okay, pull over in a few yards – your destination is number thirteen-eighty-three," Coyote directed.
The street was dimly illuminated as they pulled up in the shadows thrown by some trees and dismounted, removing their helmets.
20:25 GMT-8 (03:25 GMT May 25th)
A brief look around told them that they were very much alone.
As would be expected of that time of night, curtains and blinds were drawn. Lights from inside the properties filtered through to create a dim aura around those lit properties. Porch lights burned and the lamps high on the utility poles, dimly illuminating empty streets, added to the peaceful nighttime scene.
The target house, number 1383, was much the same as the rest of the neighbourhood with curtains and blinds drawn, porch light illuminated. The front room appeared to be the only room lit. Outside the property, a three-year-old Ford F150 pickup truck was parked at the curb. Making full use of the shadows, Phosphor made her way around the back of the house while the Vancouver Ninja headed for the side door. Blackout covertly attached a wireless three-sixty-degree camera to the roof of the F150 which allowed Coyote to keep an eye on the street for them. Blackout then moved slowly to the front door of the property, and he moved to see if he could peer in, through the living room windows.
"No sight to the front," he reported.
"Kitchen is clear," Ninja Girl responded.
"No sight at the back," Phosphor added.
"Coyote, I'm rigging up a fibreoptic to the window, see if you can see anything through the tiny gap in the curtains," Blackout directed as he fitted a small device, half the size of a cigarette packet, to the glass and twisted it slightly.
"I have an image – not exactly widescreen," Coyote commented as he examined the broadcast from the fibreoptic device.
The device had a tiny camera which was able to focus through the tiny crack in the curtains.
"Oh, fuck!" Coyote commented as he identified what lay on the floor. "I have a body – get in there!"
The Vancouver Ninja kicked in the side door while Phosphor provided cover with her pistol. Together, the two girls moved into the kitchen – it was empty – and they moved through into the dining room which was also empty. Then they reached the living room and the dead body which lay spread-eagled on the living room floor, a large pool of blood soaking into the thick carpet.
"This blood is fresh," Phosphor stated as she knelt to check out the body. "Maybe twenty minutes ago."
"Slightly suspicious," Ninja Girl commented.
"Convenient, too," Coyote added.
"Too convenient, you mean," Blackout said. "We come after this guy and we find him dead? Come on, join the dots."
"The sniper?" Ninja Girl asked.
"No bullet holes – except in the body," Phosphor pointed out as she waved at the intact walls and windows.
"No sniper," Ninja Girl agreed.
"I've got something," Blackout called out.
The girls found their partner in a back bedroom, rifling through a box of papers.
"This guy receives packages and he shreds shit – we got the remains of shipping receipts and some customs forms," Blackout explained as he held up a whole load of paper spaghetti. "Let's take this with us, and with some luck, we can put them back together."
"Cool!" Ninja Girl threw in. "I love puzzles."
"Let's go, guys," Phosphor suggested. "We can call in the body once we're clear."
Two minutes later, a backpack full of shredded paperwork in his hands, Blackout took a last look around as they left the house by the side door. The three vigilantes had barely made it to where the F150 truck was parked at the curb when the house behind them came apart as a vicious explosion ripped through the structure. The concussive force of the explosion overtook the three vigilantes and threw them a dozen yards across the street and into a neighbouring garden.
"Concord, report in! Concord, report in!" Coyote called desperately over the radio, aghast at the scene unfolding on his camera.
20:45 GMT-7 (03:45 GMT May 25th)
Their combat suits had protected them from a major injury, but each had blacked out for about a minute before the roar of the raging fire and the collapsing house had reached their ears.
Above that roar came the scream of approaching sirens as Vancouver Fire and Rescue Services pumps made for the scene. The explosion had set fire to shrubbery and two nearby houses. People were rushing out onto the street to see what had happened just as Phosphor managed to regain her feet. The house where they had been was simply gone, having collapsed in on itself and was now nothing more than a funeral pyre for its single dead occupant. After ensuring that Blackout and Ninja Girl were alive, she made for a house just a few yards away which was burning from flying wreckage which had landed on the roof, and the flames were spreading swiftly down the wooden walls. Phosphor could hear screaming coming from within the house – that was what had guided the sixteen-year-old to make for a house which was burning . . . and the fact that it was the scream of a child.
She could feel the heat through her combat suit, and for a very brief moment, she considered leaving it to the experts, but they were not there, and they would need another minute, maybe more, to arrive. There was no time left, so Phosphor pushed her fear deep down, and she used her armour to burst through the front door and into the house. A brief search of the downstairs rooms revealed nothing – but then she heard the screaming again . . . it was coming from the upper floor. Phosphor jumped back as part of the ceiling above her collapsed in a fiery heap, exactly where she had just been standing, sparks exploding around her. A nasty thought crossed Phosphor's mind as she brushed some burning wood off her combat suit – what might Hit Girl say or do if she fucked up her combat suit so soon after breaking her motorcycle?
That thought was filed until a later time as Phosphor carefully moved up the staircase which, mercifully, was still intact, but probably not for too much longer, Phosphor figured. The structure of the house was not designed to absorb damage and total failure followed by total collapse was just minutes away – at least she hoped she had minutes. The fire was raging all around Phosphor and the heat was stifling. The smoke was being partially filtered by her mask, but not entirely, and she was coughing as she was enveloped in the thick, choking, black smoke. With a kick, Phosphor kicked open a door which led to a bedroom. There was a woman on the floor and just a foot away, a young child of maybe six or seven sat crying and screaming. Without a moment's thought, Phosphor swept up the little girl onto her back.
"Hold on, honey," she coughed, and she felt the little girl's arms tighten around her neck.
With all her strength, Phosphor pulled the woman up off the floor and she pulled the woman out towards the staircase. Just as she reached the landing, the house shook as part of it collapsed, the bedroom where they had just been vanishing into the raging inferno beneath them. Phosphor stumbled as the house shook and when she regained her footing, she was horrified to see a massive fireball moving in her direction. Without conscious thought, the young vigilante turned her back on the advancing flames, swiftly pulling the girl around to the front of her body and then covering the girl and the woman with her armoured body. As Phosphor braced herself for the onslaught of fire, she was shocked to find herself, plus the little girl and the woman, drenched in cold water and she turned to see three firefighters advancing up the rickety staircase, a firehose aimed in her direction which was emitting a heavy spray, deluging the entire landing and fighting off the expanding fireball. One of the firefighters grabbed the woman and took her down the staircase while Phosphor grabbed up the little girl and she followed close behind. The pair burst out into chaos as firefighters, paramedics, and police fought for space on the street outside. The woman and the little girl were both seized by paramedics and taken to an ambulance which headed directly off to a hospital.
"Where the fuck, have you been?" Blackout growled as he guided Phosphor past the marauding emergency services and into the safety of the shadows.
"I got distracted," Phosphor responded.
About an hour later
22:00 GMT-7 (05:00 GMT May 25th)
Safehouse Prime
"Are you totally insane!" Dylan demanded as the team arrived back.
"Probably," Carrie commented as she pulled off her mask.
"Certifuckingfiable!" Ella confirmed.
"Come on, guys," Jay declared. "She rescued two people from a burning house – she's brave as fuck, in my book."
Carrie blushed furiously at Jay's comment, and she loved him for it.
"Yeah, it was damn brave," Ella conceded. "Well done, Carrie."
"Thanks, guys – I had to do it . . . that's what we're for, right?"
"Er guys?" Dylan called out as he pointed at the wall-mounted television.
It was CTV News and Carrie immediately recognised the street where they had been, just an hour previously.
"... Right here, just an hour ago, Vancouver's own vigilante team assisted in rescuing a mother and her young daughter from a fire which had turned their home into a raging inferno. Yes, Concord was here, and the vigilante known as Phosphor was seen to smash her way into the burning home of Esmerelda Berg and her mother, Sarah. The vigilante reappeared minutes later with the young girl in her arms and being assisted by the Vancouver Fire and Rescue Services. Without the swift action of Phosphor, Esmerelda and Sarah might have died . . . instead, both are doing well at Lions Gate Hospital..."
"Holy, shit!" Carrie exclaimed as her friends slapped her, rather painfully, on the back.
"That's my girl!" Jay exclaimed.
An hour later still
23:00 GMT-7 (06:00 GMT May 25th)
West 47th Avenue
Ella pushed open the door into Carrie's bedroom.
"Why now?" Ella asked. "They could have cleaned up much earlier."
"Probably didn't want to attract unwanted attention from law enforcement," Carrie replied. "Or they still had a use for their people."
"At least until we blew their cover," Ella considered.
"Yeah," Carrie agreed. "Quite literally blew their cover!"
Ella laughed.
"Night, Carrie."
"Night, Ella."
The two girls hugged before Ella vanished to her own bedroom. Carrie smiled as she lay back on her bed, considering the evening. She had been mobbed by her aunt and uncle as they had congratulated her on her fiery rescue. Carrie had cringed at the attention, much preferring obscurity. It was rare that Carrie received so many accolades and so much positive attention – it was always so negative, thanks to her proclivity to act without proper forethought and often make a bad mistake. Just for once, she had made the right choice, and two people were alive who otherwise might not be.
Carrie pulled the duvet up over herself and she closed her eyes, smiling happily.
Earlier, that same evening...
Wednesday, May 24th
South-eastern Chicago, USA
20:25 GMT-6 (02:25 GMT May 24th)
The large conference room was filled with eighteen high-rollers, all seated around a highly polished mahogany conference table with their eighteen bodyguards arrayed around the walls of the oval-shaped room behind them.
Their topic? Drugs.
They were Chicago's top dealers and all part of the same syndicate headed by Rudolph Draeger. The man had been dealing dope in various forms for more than forty years and he was a master at dealing, buying, bullying, intimidating, and a host of other nastiness. He had slotted very nicely into the top slot once Frank D'Amico had ceased to exist, absorbing a good deal of his customers, dealers, and freight network. There had been a minor ripple once Ralph D'Amico had come onto the scene, but with that man gone, too, the city was his and his alone. The past months of trouble with FEAR had allowed him to rise to a position where he was all but unassailable. Draeger had made deals with FEAR to ensure that his network remained untouched – in return, Draeger had funnelled intelligence in FEAR's direction. As a rule, he had even avoided the attention of Fusion, although that may have simply been good security and a lot of luck.
The conversation around the table died as dull thuds could be heard from the other side of the double mahogany doors which led into the main section of the building. Beyond those doors, upwards of thirty-six men were arrayed to protect their principals and the building in general. The silence opened up to sounds of extreme consternation and two of the bodyguards in the room made for the door, only for both men to be thrown backwards as the double doors came off their hinges and struck both men with enough force to knock both men out. There was a fleeting image of something huge, green, and yellow which stood to one side while something shorter, and very purple, took centre stage.
"Oh, was this a private meeting? I must apologise for my failure to knock!"
It was comical, really, as almost every man bolted for the far end of the room, quite literally running for their lives. Hit Girl stood her ground as she savoured the effect that her mere presence had on thirty-six – scratch that, she thought as she saw the two unconscious men on the floor – thirty-four grown men. One of the bodyguards yanked open the door at the far end of the conference room only to stop dead.
"Hello, boys!" Shadow growled. "Leaving so soon?"
"This is gonna hurt, huh?" one of the men asked.
"The worst kind of hurt," Jackal informed the man as the lights went out, leaving the room lit only by the moonlight which filtered through the windows. "You ever danced with the devil by the pale moonlight?"
"And cue Joan Jett," Kick-Ass muttered as Hit Girl waded into the fight.
..._...
The fight was decidedly epic and very one-sided.
There were four famous accomplished vigilantes wading their way through thirty-four men . . . those very same accomplished vigilantes had already surged through thirty-six brutish protectors without obvious harm. Incidentally, there were another six vigilantes guarding the perimeter and ensuring that none of those thirty-six downed brutes got back up again.
Hit Girl was in her element. She had had enough of standing around doing fuck all while her body healed. It was still nowhere near healed, but what was a little pain, here and there. No, Hit Girl needed to get back out there after almost a month of relative inactivity. There had been much talk among the criminal underclass that Hit Girl was losing her touch, especially as she had not been seen on the streets in many weeks. However, she was banking on the night's action to put the fear of God back into the criminal underclass. It had never felt so good, ramming her fists into raw flesh, hearing bones snap as she stamped on legs and slammed her boot into ribcages. Hearing the sweet cries of pain as men twice her size were put down like they were small children. Okay, they were good, but Hit Girl was better – so much better!
"You having any fun yet?" Shadow asked as she found herself back to back with her best friend.
"It's okay," Hit Girl responded as she dislocated a man's elbow. "Bit slow."
"You are kidding!" Shadow growled back as she broke a nose and squashed some cunts balls deep into his crotch.
"Ignore her – she's talking crap as usual," Kick-Ass cut in as he strolled past, dragging a man by his ankle before throwing him against the wall.
"Give her a readymade battle, not to mention all the fun that the ungrateful bitch can handle," Jackal commented dryly. "And she's still bloody complaining!"
"Give me a fucking break!" Hit Girl growled as she advanced on a seemingly unscathed bodyguard who was apparently undecided about facing either Hit Girl or Jackal.
He picked Jackal, much to Hit Girl's annoyance. Maybe he felt it might hurt a little less, but either way, he hit the floor after Jackal planted his boot in the unfortunate man's face, emitting a large amount of blood as his nose exploded. Hit Girl filed away the annoyance as she made for the head of the table where she peered underneath the thick wooden top to find four men cowering in abject fear and silently praying for a miracle. Rudolph Draeger was one of those four men and he shuddered with fear as he stared into the soulless purple eyes which stared back at him out of the darkness. He saw the armoured gauntlet moving in his direction and grabbing his jacket by the lapels. Hit Girl was strong, and she easily yanked the man out from under the table. Despite a lot of courage and years of actively killing people, facing somebody who had not a single scruple to her name was decidedly unnerving. Not being able to see into her eyes or see the expression on her face, scared the man to the core. Hit Girl was faceless with just her bloody reputation to your name. Nobody knew who she was beneath that mask and nobody had ever managed to find out much information about the secretive vigilante, despite her having been around for approximately ten years – maybe longer, but it seemed that nobody was left alive to confirm when exactly Hit Girl had actually first come into being.
"What do you want?" Draeger asked bravely.
"I want this city to be crime free," Hit Girl growled from barely two inches away from his face. "I want scum like you off the streets, along with your poison. When the police arrive, you will admit to everything and anything which puts you away for the next forty years."
"If I don't?"
"Then you won't need a prison cell, you'll just need a coffin."
Safehouse F
22:11 GMT-6 (04:11 GMT May 24th)
Mindy was still buzzing from the adrenalin as she showered.
"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" Dave challenged as he shared the same shower.
"Yes, it was good to get back into the game. Wearing the suit, forgetting about everything but the task in hand. More than once I second guessed myself in Cambodia and I blamed myself for things going to shit."
"Things have gone to shit before," Dave pointed out dolefully.
"I know."
Mindy hugged her husband, enjoying the feel of his skin against her own. She had enjoyed the evening. It had originally been Joshua's idea to find something for them to get their teeth into and Marty had managed to find the gathering of druggies. The rest, as they say, was history. The police had taken all those still breathing and thrown them behind bars. Though there was limited evidence to use to make their stay behind bars permanent, Hit Girl's ultimatum was still ringing in their ears and they swiftly spilt the proverbial beans all over the interview tables.
"It's good to see you smiling again," Dave said as he looked down at his naked wife as she looked back up at him.
Mindy blushed as she did so, enjoying the look of love which drove deep into her heart. She knew that she had not been her usual happy self since her return, but a little bloodletting and she was back to who she was. She was back to being Mindy Lizewski AKA Hit Girl and that felt so damn good. She felt her nipples growing hard as they rubbed against Dave's rough chest and she could also feel something else growing hard and rubbing at her stomach. Without a moment's thought, Mindy leapt up and she wrapped her long legs around Dave's waist and her long arms around his neck. She felt Dave just in the right place between her legs and she gently eased herself down. Dave grinned at the moan which told him that his wife was locked and loaded.
The feeling was good for him as well and he let out a moan of his own as Mindy began to bounce up and down.
Glenview
23:40 GMT-6 (05:40 GMT May 24th)
Dave and Mindy had arrived home to find Stephanie vanishing into the kitchen.
"Hi, Mum! Hi, Dad!" she shouted.
"Hi, Steph!" Mindy called back. "All good?"
"Yes!"
Mindy dragged Dave towards their suite, an evil grin on her face. Dave simply rolled his eyes as he followed his wife, knowing what she had in mind. It did not take long, and about seven minutes later, just as Stephanie was leaving the kitchen with a large bowl of ice-cream in her hands, an enormous scream cut through the house from the direction of the master suite, causing Stephanie to jump and the girl almost dropped said bowl of ice-cream. Stephanie, personally, had not had much exposure to sex but she knew a 'happy' scream when she heard one and she was totally freaked out by it. However, she was incredibly pleased for her adoptive parents; they had been through a lot and any chance for them both to be happy together was fine by Stephanie.
"What was that noise?" a tired Anne-Marie wanted to know as Stephanie reached the landing and headed for her bedroom.
"Go back to bed," Stephanie directed. "Just Mum and Dad having some fun."
"You mean Dad is boning Mom?"
"Where did you get that from?"
"I was talking with Megan and Abigail," Anne-Marie replied.
Stephanie chuckled, not surprised by the response in the slightest – however, she would be having an up-close-and-personal chat with Megan and Abigail very soon.
The following evening...
Thursday, May 25th
Safehouse Prime
Vancouver, Canada
20:25 GMT-7 (03:25 GMT May 26th)
"What the fuck?"
Ella looked around the normally clean safehouse which was now strewn with miles and miles of shredded paper.
"Don't worry, I'm finished with that lot," Dylan said, nodding at the nearest pile.
"What's that doing?" Ella wanted to know as she watched a computer screen with what looked like digitized strips of paper flicking across the display.
"I scan in the strips and the computer automatically sorts them and matches them up – when it has a complete page, it prints it out," Dylan explained, pointing at the laser printer beside the computer monitor where a page was just emerging.
"Anything of interest?" Ella asked.
"The guy likes to buy sex toys – got several invoices."
"Ewww!"
"Like you've never diddled yourself with a dildo, Ella."
Ella blushed wildly.
"I was bored, and you should have knocked."
Dylan grinned as his eyes glazed over and he thought back to a very pleasant sight.
"Boys!"
That same time...
22:25 GMT-6 (04:25 GMT May 26th)
Washington D.C.
United States of America
"Are you going to get some sleep?"
"Yeah, Mum, in a minute."
Mindy chuckled as the eleven-year-old girl went back to watching her movie while she liberally stuffed her mouth with popcorn. The youngster was wearing her usual overlarge T-shirt and her long legs were stretched out down the bed in a very unladylike fashion. Not that Mindy knew all that much about being ladylike, she considered, as she finished getting herself ready for sleep and she lay down beside Stephanie on the enormous bed. The two of them had flown into the capital earlier that afternoon before being whisked by limousine to the Ritz-Carlton in Georgetown. Mother and daughter had enjoyed a private meal together in their suite before Stephanie had settled down to a movie. Despite being separated from her husband, Mindy was not lonely; she had her daughter. While nobody could replace Dave and his love, Stephanie was remarkably close behind. It had been almost eighteen months since the young girl had come into Mindy's life, and Mindy could not consider her life without Stephanie in the family. Other than Dave and probably Chloe, Mindy had never trusted anyone as much as she did Stephanie. The girl had been through a lot and somehow, the two of them were like kindred spirits.
"Come on, Steph, we have an appointment, first thing."
"Okay," Stephanie conceded as she tipped the very last of the popcorn into her mouth and hit the 'OFF' button on the remote control. "Night, Mum."
"Night, Steph."
The following morning...
Friday, May 26th
09:30 GMT-5 (14:25 GMT May 26th)
Washington D.C.
Mindy and Stephanie had just finished breakfast when the phone in the suite rang.
"Hello," Mindy said as she picked up the handset.
"A car has arrived for you Mrs Lizewski," the concierge advised.
"Thank you. We'll be right down."
"You look good, Mum," Stephanie admitted as she finished dressing.
Mindy checked herself out in the full-length mirror. The navy-blue trouser suit was comfortable, and it gave her an air of importance and power, she thought, as she slipped on a pair of black flat shoes to finish off the ensemble. Her blonde hair was up in its customary ponytail and held in place with a navy-blue scrunchy.
"You just look your usual self," Mindy teased.
Stephanie was wearing her own 'power' outfit consisting of dark blue jeans, a check shirt, and a light blue jacket. On her feet, she wore a comfortable pair of lightweight boots.
"Why can't we be armed?" Stephanie asked.
"Where we're going, they won't take too kindly to people being armed," Mindy reminded her daughter. "Especially the likes of you."
"They made me," Stephanie pointed out.
"I know. Come on, the car is waiting."
10:10 GMT-5 (15:10 GMT May 26th)
Langley, Virginia
The drive into neighbouring Virginia from Maryland, did not take long.
Stephanie grimaced as they passed an ominous-looking sign at the side of the road: 'WARNING RESTRICTED US GOVERNMENT INSTALLATION'. They were entering the lair of the beast. At the gatehouse, she and Mindy handed over their identity cards which proclaimed them to be contractors. One of the guards at the gatehouse checked their names off against a typed list attached to a clipboard before he returned the identity cards and raised the barrier to allow the official car to pass through with its passengers. The car swept up the access road before coming to a smooth halt outside the main building.
Stephanie and Mindy alighted, and they made their way through the main entrance. Stephanie stopped dead at the sight of the giant emblem embedded into the marble floor. The emblem was imposing which had been the original idea on its inception. It declared exactly where they were in large white characters: 'CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY'. With unease building, Stephanie followed Mindy towards the row of electronic security gates through which they would have to pass. All the time, they knew that they were being observed from every angle, both by electronic means and the human eyeball. Numerous armed security guards stood around the cavernous atrium ready to take down anybody who threatened the sprawling facility. Hesitantly, Stephanie swiped her identity card through the barrier which, after a short pause, dropped out of sight into the vertical console and she passed through. Mindy did the same, before a security guard walked over and stood before Stephanie.
"May I see your identity card, please, young lady."
Mindy noticed Stephanie adjusting her stance and shifting her bodyweight ready for an attack as she handed over the small white card which bore the very same emblem as that which covered a good deal of the atrium floor. The card declared Stephanie to be an 'Active CIA Contractor' with a basic security clearance. The identity card bore her original Predator 'Employee ID No.' along with an updated photo of her taken just the previous year. The photo showed her as having long hair, Stephanie had noticed somewhat wistfully when she had examined the card earlier that morning. The man obviously thought that a young girl with a CIA identity card was unusual – if only he knew, Mindy thought.
"That will not be necessary," a voice called out, and Deputy Director Pamela Landy strode over, smiling broadly.
"Yes, ma'am!" the security guard responded as he returned the card and went back to his position over beside a wall decorated with many stars.
Stephanie threw the man a cheeky grin to which the man simply chuckled in response.
"Mindy, Stephanie, welcome to Langley."
"Thank you, Deputy Director," Mindy replied.
"You've grown, Stephanie," Landy commented approvingly.
"Still got a mouth like a sewer and an attitude like a pissed off alligator," Mindy confided.
"Much like her mother, then," Landy countered with a friendly grin.
"Touché!" Mindy conceded.
..._...
"I can tell that you are not enjoying your visit here, Stephanie," Landy commented in the elevator.
"Not really," Stephanie admitted.
"That is very understandable."
At the sixth floor, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened to reveal a corridor extending to the left and to the right. Pamela Landy waved them off to the left and they walked the length of the corridor before Landy stopped outside a door at the far end, on the left. A thumbprint scan later, Landy opened the door and she waved her visitors inside. The corner office was impressive, Mindy thought, and indicative of Pamela Landy's position within the agency. The office was plushily decorated with a combination of light wood panelling on the lower walls and pale cream paint on the upper. The glazed windows on two sides provided lashings of natural light into the office where Landy had a capacious wooden desk with a tall-backed black leather chair as well as a comfortable couch and soft chairs. Landy directed Stephanie and Mindy over to the couch and soft chairs.
"Coffee?" Landy asked.
"Please," Mindy replied.
"I'm fine, thanks," Stephanie added with a wave of her hand as she sat down.
Once the coffee had been sorted out for Mindy and Landy had grabbed one for herself, she sat down on the couch with Mindy.
"Okay, Mindy, I think I know what you want to talk about . . . please begin."
"What is going on, Pam?" Mindy began. "My teams have been discovering nuclear components and nuclear material - Los Angeles, San Diego – and the trail has so far extended to Vancouver. We sent you the first device, yet you shrugged it off. My people are in danger; they are being put at risk – I can protect them from bullets, but this is something very nasty and very scary."
"I understand where you are coming from, and we've not been sitting idle, I can assure you. But you must understand, Mindy, what has scared you, has also scared those above me. Nobody wants to even consider that somebody other than a nation state is messing around with nuclear weapons, let alone that parts for a nuclear weapon are entering our borders. On the other hand, experts are unsure if the items which you have recovered are good enough to be assembled into a functioning nuclear weapon."
"Isn't it safer to work on the worst-case scenario?" Stephanie asked.
"For any organisation other than the CIA, it might be," Landy confirmed.
"This place is its own worst enemy," Stephanie went on grouchily. "How the damn place doesn't implode in on itself is way beyond me."
"It is the same with all Federal organisations," Landy pointed out. "Yes, I know that you were created by this place as was Jason. As you both did, last year, extraordinary measures are required again. I cannot support you – not directly, at least. However, Mindy, if you and your team should identify the source of this problem, then the full weight of the United States of America will be deployed to back you."
"So, you're sending us to clear up your mess again?" Mindy growled ominously giving Landy a moment to consider her own personal safety.
Pamela Landy looked at both females and she considered that either one could kill her without her even knowing it had happened. Having read the Urban Predator training syllabus, Landy considered that Stephanie could probably do it in such a way that her death would appear totally accidental. As for Mindy, she could turn the office, and probably most of the facility, into a bloodbath. Landy smiled at the thought of Mindy and Stephanie going on a rampage through the New Headquarters Building – the death toll would probably be in the hundreds. Landy had no real liking for her employer – the CIA was decidedly untrustworthy for a start – but it was her job to try and control the entity in some manner.
"I noticed that you've been promoted," Mindy commented in an attempt to rekindle the conversation.
"Yes, I am Deputy Director for the National Clandestine Service - DDNCS."
Mindy raised an eyebrow.
"A sure-fire route to becoming Deputy Director of the CIA and then maybe even Director of the CIA," she surmised.
"As Stephanie has correctly pointed out, this place needs shaking up and that can only be done by the Deputy Director of the CIA and eventually the Director of the CIA. I cleaned house in the Directorate of Operations after Treadstone and Urban Predator to try and heal the rot which pervades deep within the CIA. I will do everything I can to help you, Mindy, once there is something concrete, but for now, you are on your own."
Stephanie stood up and she turned to face Landy, a look of anger on her young face.
"My Mum has been through enough; I will not damn well allow her to go through more shit just because you lot are too bloody hesitant."
"Thank you, Steph," Mindy said. "But I can fight my own battles."
Stephanie scowled.
"You're right, Stephanie," Landy admitted. "This threat is very real and extremely dangerous. I could tell you that nobody would get hurt, but I won't lie to you – you deserve that much after all that you've been through."
"Thank you," Stephanie responded.
"I have another meeting scheduled," Landy said after checking her watch. "Keep me updated and I'll keep pushing."
"Thank you, Pam," Mindy said as she stood up.
..._...
Landy escorted Mindy and Stephanie to the elevator and back down to the first floor.
"Stay safe Mindy . . . you too, Stephanie."
"You'd better honour your promise, Pam," Mindy hissed. "Or so help me God..."
"I'll make sure it happens; you can count on that," Landy replied.
As Mindy and Stephanie walked back towards the atrium, Stephanie caught sight of the security guard who had stopped her earlier. The man watched Stephanie as the young girl walked past him, and Stephanie grinned in response, raising her right hand, two of her fingers forming a vee and pointing into her eyes before turning the vee to point at the security guard. The man chuckled as Stephanie swiped her identity card and was allowed to pass through the security barrier. Stephanie felt very relieved as she reached open air outside the building - there was just something about the place which gave Stephanie the creeps.
The car took them back to their hotel where they packed and enjoyed a brief lunch before a car from the hotel took them to the airport for the one-hour fifty-minute flight back to Chicago.