Later that afternoon...
Friday, May 26th, 2017
16:19 GMT-6 (22:19 GMT May 26th)
Alpha Foxtrot – South of Pittsburgh
Stephanie was sitting comfortably at a table, her mouth wrapped around a bacon double cheeseburger, courtesy of Amy.
Across the aircraft, Mindy was enjoying her own bacon double cheeseburger, however, she was eating the burger like a relatively normal human being, unlike Stephanie who was tucking into hers like she was a wild animal which had been starved for days. Mindy ignored her hungry daughter and she continued to flick through her most recent Guns and Ammo magazine – there was a good article on SIG Sauer's X series pistols – while she ate.
"That was so good!" Stephanie exclaimed as she rubbed her tummy.
"Glad you're happy," Mindy grinned.
"I think I'm going to lie back and have a doze," Stephanie considered as she moved to a seat without a table and reclined the back, closing her eyes.
"You do that – give me some peace and quiet."
A few minutes later, Mindy checked on her sleeping daughter before she lay down on a couch and closed her own eyes.
..._...
Mindy groaned as she was awoken from a pleasant sleep.
Her cell phone was ringing and when Mindy looked at the screen, she noticed that she had only been asleep for about eight minutes. Annoyed, she violently stabbed the button to accept the call from Marty.
"Yes!"
"Did I wake our slumbering queen?"
"What is it, Marty," Mindy growled as she forced a smile.
"We have some movement from Vancouver – they've found the next piece of the puzzle. Actually, it's another puzzle, but it's still a step forward."
"What is?" Mindy asked testily.
"Dylan was able to put together the scanned paperwork from the house which blew up, and apart from some weird fetish shit, we have a finger pointing squarely at Europe."
"Europe? Where?"
"Looks like the package originated in France – possibly Paris."
"Not my favourite city."
"Understandably," Marty responded. "We're compiling everything, and we'll send it to Honneur in due course."
"At least we have some movement on this, I suppose."
"True – how did your trip go?"
"Not the result I wanted, but it was what I expected. Anything else?"
"Reports from Los Angeles are that Dieter is going on a trip."
"Where to?"
"London – a brief hack into his schedule told us that he is checking in on his U.K. investments. Not only that, but he is also booked in for a meeting with Gabriel Agreste and our good friend, Susan Cummings."
"How the hell that bitch stayed out of prison, I have no goddamn idea!" Mindy groused.
"Technically, she never actually did anything – it was her 'duplicitous minions' – or so her lawyer was able to dictate."
"Alert Vengeance, I suppose – thanks, Marty."
"Enjoy the rest of your flight."
An hour or so later
18:01 GMT-6 (00:01 GMT May 27th)
Glenview
Chicago, USA
"Hi, guys!"
"Oh, you're back," Anne-Marie commented dryly. "Thought they might have kept you – seeing as how mentally unstable you are and all."
"I love you too, Anne-Marie," Stephanie grinned as she was hugged by the eight-year-old.
"Hi, Dave...," Mindy began as she kissed her husband deeply enough for the blushing and slightly freaked out Anne-Marie and Stephanie to flee as fast as their legs could carry them. "I missed you..."
"I missed you, too, honey."
"I understand our friends up north have found something interesting," Dave commented.
"Yes, yes . . . more hands, please . . . on body, less talk," Mindy responded breathlessly.
Dave chuckled as he pushed a hand down the front of Mindy's trousers, receiving a satisfied groan in response as his fingers ventured somewhere very damp indeed.
The next afternoon...
Saturday, May 27th
10:45 GMT+1 (09:45 GMT May 27th)
Cockburn Hall
Northumberland, England
"Cockburn Hall."
"Hello, Hillary, is the lady in?"
"Of course, Mrs Lizewski."
"Call me, Mindy, please."
"Of course, Mrs Lizewski."
Arnold Hillary Rimmer, otherwise known as 'H', the long-suffering butler for the Cockburn family, made his way up the stairs and around to Lara's bedroom. As he always did, he knocked on the door.
"Come!" came the familiar voice.
Hillary pushed open the door and he entered the bedroom.
"Oh, honestly," he breathed as he found Lara emerging from the bathroom, her towel loosely draped over one shoulder, covering one breast and very little else.
"Oh, give it a rest," Lara commented as she saw her butler roll his eyes.
"I'm only trying to turn you into a lady..."
Lara dropped the towel on her bed as she reached for a pair of knickers.
"...and a lady should be modest."
"Yes, a lady should be modest."
Lady Lara Cockburn could care less about being seen naked – so many had – not to mention that Hillary had seen her daily since the very day she was born, just eighteen years before. The young woman had inherited her title, just three months previously, not that it had changed Lara's behaviour any, much to Hillary's chagrin.
"A phone call, Lara – Mrs Lizewski."
"Mindy? I'll be right down."
Two days later...
Monday, May 29th
09:45 GMT+1 (08:45 GMT May 29th)
Stansted Airport
London, England
The Boeing Business Jet 3 touched down without fanfare and left the runway at the first taxiway.
The pilot taxied around to the private terminal, over on the east side of the airport, and well away from the public terminal. There, the pilot pulled up into a designated slot, not far from a slim Dassault Falcon 2000 business jet bearing a French registration. There were other executive jets parked close by, including a Bombardier Challenger 605 business jet, and a Gulfstream G550. By far the largest jet at the terminal was the Boeing which shut down its engines while the cabin crew prepared for their arriving visitors. The only other activity was a small executive helicopter over by a private hanger which, according to the signage on the hanger and helicopter, belonged to Cockburn Holdings Limited.
About ten minutes after the Boeing had parked and a set of air stairs had been placed at the forward hatch, people began to climb aboard. Dieter Mannheim welcomed his guests as they boarded.
"Susan!"
"Hello, Dieter, good to see you again."
"Please grab a drink and a seat, good lady . . . ah, Gabriel, welcome aboard."
"Hello, my friend."
"Grab yourself a drink – just leave some for the rest of us, Gabriel. Good to see you, William; please, have a seat."
Expensive, and very generous, amounts of bourbon splashed into various glasses along with cubes of ice.
"Oh, for goodness sake!" William Fraser exclaimed. "What is it with you Americans and ruining perfectly good booze by shoving ice in it!"
"The Americans simply cannot take their alcohol," Gabriel Agreste chuckled. "Nor do they have the taste for the good stuff."
"Just because we don't drink a bottle of red wine for breakfast every morning," Susan Cummings retorted as she sipped at her bourbon.
"Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let's get down to business," Mannheim chuckled as he sat down in a leather armchair. "I will pass things over to our colleague from Eidolon."
"Thank you, Dieter," a voice replied with in a noticeable Canadian accent. "We have a lot of work to do as Operation Deadlight comes to fruition."
"What about the shipments which Dieter has allowed to be intercepted?" Fraser asked.
"You Limey shit!" Mannheim growled.
"Minor issues, but not unexpected," Noah Tremblay responded. "We planned for such eventualities and we have in-built security measures. It is time to ramp up the Operation Source distraction operations, and I want the final production run in Mali to be complete by mid-June, by then, the polar facility should be online, and as Deadlight comes to a close, Operation Capital can begin."
"What about the west coast problems?" Mannheim asked.
"Fusion is a growing threat, as are their counterparts in Canada and Scotland. Source will deal with them and they should all die in the ensuing chaos. Mark my words, by July, the world is going to be a very different place."
"Let's raise a glass to Deadlight, Source, and Capital," Mannheim said.
"And the destruction of that bitch and her teams!" Susan Cummings added.
"Dieter?"
"Yes, Rosa."
"We may have a problem," Rosa Müller told her boss.
"What kind of a problem?"
"One of the flight crew saw a motorcyclist taking photos of everybody boarding and the same motorcyclist is still there, over by a hanger waiting for everyone to disembark."
"A damn spy?" Fraser growled.
"So much for a secret meeting," Tremblay complained. "You were prepared for this?"
"Of course," Mannheim responded as he picked up one of the numerous phones scattered around the sumptuously equipped aircraft interior and he spoke into it. "Get the rider and their equipment."
..._...
Seventy yards away from the Boeing jet, Lara Cockburn stood in the shadows of a general aviation hangar, one down from her own, a camera in her hands.
The young woman had been waiting for over an hour, watching each jet land, recording the tail numbers and the faces of all who had emerged. She was clad in a full set of black motorcycle leathers including a black helmet with a tinted visor. As far as Lara was concerned, she was out of sight and safe from detection. However, that idea quickly left her mind as she saw six men running in her direction. None of them appeared to be looking to chat in an amicable fashion and Lara quickly ran for her motorcycle, pressed the starter and then turned to look directly at the six men.
Lara raised the middle finger of her right hand as she moved off.
..._...
The all-black 2017 Triumph Tiger Explorer 1200 XCA motorcycle accelerated away, rapidly building up speed.
Lara never saw one of the six men raise a radio to his mouth, however, as she slowed at the first roundabout to make a left turn, she caught sight of two cars racing up behind her – both were Jaguar XF saloons and they were painted black, their headlights on full as they raced forward. Lara caused a Ford just entering the roundabout to her right to slam on its brakes as she accelerated hard, taking the first exit and racing around the airport access road, zipping down the white line in the centre of the road and weaving in and out of the traffic. Behind her, she could make out the pair of Jaguars in hot pursuit, themselves weaving in and out of the traffic, horns blaring. Lara did not slow at the next roundabout, again causing other vehicles to slew to an emergency stop as she raced past. The next roundabout was mercifully clear before Lara reached a larger roundabout and she merged smoothly with the traffic before she took the smooth curve of the oval-shaped roundabout at sixty miles-per-hour, slowing to take the A120 exit. The powerful Jaguars were gaining ground on the broader roads and the multi-lane roundabouts while Lara was getting worried that she might become plastered across somebody's bonnet and windscreen if she was any more reckless.
After negotiating a set of traffic lights at the main M11 roundabout, Lara caught the second set at orange and then the third set on green. She was beeped at by many vehicles as she raced past. There were other angry horns blaring as the pair of Jaguar XF saloons pushed their way through the traffic. Lara knew that she would be safe once she joined the M11 motorway as she would be able to outrun the Jaguars, but then her heart sank as she caught sight of another motorcycle forcing its way through the traffic – it was a dark grey Kawasaki Ninja H2 and the powerful machine had a lot more power than her own Triumph. Then, just when Lara needed no interruptions, her mobile rang, and she clicked her Bluetooth button.
"Not a good time!" Lara complained.
"Just checking in on you, Lady Cockburn," Hillary responded.
"Kind of busy."
"Are you by any chance being chased?"
"Yep!"
"Are you in mortal danger?"
"Er – possibly."
"Are you in need of assistance?"
"It is getting a bit lonely."
"I will contact Miss Lily for you."
"Thanks, H!"
The call was dropped, and Lara concentrated on racing down the outside lane with the pursuing motorcycle only fifty yards behind.
..._...
Sitting astride her 2017 Triumph Tiger 800, Styx was clad in a one-piece light-grey set of motorcycle leathers with short leather boots and a black helmet with embedded heads-up-display.
"I think Kora is in a spot of bother and could you please assist."
"I'll be ready, H, have no fear," Styx replied as she dropped the call.
From her vantage point, high on the overpass of the M11 at Junction 10, just outside of Duxford, Styx could see for miles and she was able to see the two motorcycles hurtling towards her at high speed. Not that her eyes were necessary; Kora's position was being constantly updated in her heads-up-display. With precision, Styx accelerated off the flyover and down the slip road, joining the M11 northbound about four yards behind the Kawasaki Ninja H2. A brief glance at the speedo showed that they were touching ninety as they raced along the gently curving motorway. Styx reached into a pocket of her leathers, and she pulled out a three-inch section cut from a C-4 M112 demolition block. Embedded in the top of the block was a micro detonator. With surprising dexterity, Styx pressed a button on the top of the device, enabling the receiver, and she pulled off a protective section of plastic from the base of the charge.
As Styx manoeuvred closer to the Ninja H2, its rider became aware of his own pursuer and he attempted to move out of the way, but Styx was having none of it as she swept up close and she slapped her explosive device onto the man's windscreen. It was fairly obvious that the man caught on very quickly and he rapidly braked, swerving over to the left side of the motorway and the hard shoulder. Styx slowed, just as fast, stopping two hundred yards ahead on the same hard shoulder. She turned to watch the man dismount and once he was a short distance away, and there were no other vehicles close by, she reached into another pocket and produced a small detonator. Styx grinned as she flipped up a latch and depressed the button beneath.
Two hundred yards back, the £17,000 Kawasaki Ninja H2 was instantly converted to scrap value as the C-4 charge detonated and blasted open the fuel tank, the contents of which provided a sympathetic detonation destroying the machine completely.
10:15 GMT+1 (09:15 GMT May 29th)
On the M11 a mile west of
Trumpington, England
With the destruction of her two-wheeled pursuer, Lara Cockburn AKA Kora, considered herself to be safe.
Lara had slowed down considerably to allow Lily to catch up, but that was a mistake as a pair of angry Jaguar XF saloons hove into view, touching 130 miles-per-hour as they strove to catch up with their quarry. They flashed past the destroyed Kawasaki and its irate rider, catching sight of two motorcycles up ahead.
"Move!" Styx yelled at Kora who twisted the throttle on her own motorcycle, and she accelerated hard.
Despite her bravado, Kora was scared. She had not truly believed that she might come under attack during her seemingly simple surveillance mission, even though she had been briefed by her resident fourteen-year-old Predator of the potential pitfalls. She also knew that she would get a stern dressing down from both Lily and Hillary, later on, for her lack of forethought. The images taken during her surveillance were safe, having been uploaded directly to the Vengeance 'cloud', so that was not a problem.
However, the men pursuing them would not be interested in that, but they appeared pissed about something.
..._...
As they raced north, to the west of Cambridge, the two Jaguar cars easily caught up to the two motorcycles which had slowed due to increasingly heavy traffic.
Styx led with Kora close behind as they filtered between the two lanes of slow traffic, desperate to get ahead. The Jaguars had no intention of obeying the Highway Code as they took to the vacant hard shoulder, ignoring the blaring horns of the indignant road users forced to creep along at twenty miles-per-hour. A mile ahead, Styx, Kora, and the two Jaguars broke out of the traffic jam which was apparently being caused by two vehicles which had collided. Kora raced off ahead while Styx hung back to figure out a plan to get rid of the pursuing Jaguars which she knew were not about to give up on their pursuit any time soon. The Phase 3 Predator had been lenient with the motorcycle rider, having had no immediate desire to plaster the remains of his body across the M11 motorway in a bloody explosion. She had promised herself that she had been done with killing, only, she knew full well that killing was a necessity at certain moments. Lily was eternally grateful to Lara for taking her in and she had sworn to protect Lara, as well as Mackenzie and Isaac. Lara had a tendency to be a little headstrong and she was struggling to fully understand what it meant to be part of a vigilante organisation. Lara tended to see it all as a bit of a game – quite a surprise considering what had happened to Lara after she had been kidnapped.
Getting back to the moment, Styx decelerated, and she allowed the Jaguars to come close as they raced along at eighty-five miles-per-hour. Ultimately, as a man leaned out of the left-hand Jaguar and fired off half-a-dozen rounds from a pistol, Styx decided that the proverbial line had been crossed. She had had enough. Styx braked until she came level with the left-hand Jaguar. Without conscious thought, she drew her concealed H&K pistol and she put a bullet through the passenger-side front window, shattering the glass and causing the Jaguar to jink to the right, away from Styx on her motorcycle. The unfortunate driver had inadvertently jinked too far and he side-swiped the other Jaguar which careered into the steel barrier which guarded the central reservation between the opposing sides of the motorway.
Both Jaguars took a minute to sort themselves out as they swerved out of each other's way. In that time, Styx had raced ahead before skidding to a halt on the hard shoulder a mile further up the motorway. Bravely, the Predator took a step into the centre of lane one and she raised an H&K MP7A2 PDW to her shoulder, calmly levelling the weapon at the approaching Jaguars. The drivers must have seen her as both opted to slam on their brakes just as Styx shredded each windscreen with two three-round bursts per car. The drivers died instantly, and their 1,700-kilogramme saloons skidded out of control before smashing into one another again. The nose of one car dug in and the vehicle became airborne for almost three whole seconds before crashing back down again, sections of bodywork exploding around the rapidly disintegrating luxury motor.
Styx wasted no time watching the smashed vehicles career towards her as she mounted her motorcycle and sped off after Kora.
One hour later...
They rendezvoused at the hotel about fifty miles to the north, just outside the town of Grantham.
Lily was slowly coming down from her adrenaline high and the intense feeling of accomplishment which she felt when she made a justified kill. As for Lara, she was still high on adrenaline and she was grinning from ear to ear. Lily was not happy. Yes, they had planned for problems, but Lily had not wanted to have to leave such a mess behind.
"You were seen, I presume?" Lily said in more of a statement than a question.
"Yeah," Lara admitted.
"Never mind," Lily said. "Just try to learn from your mistakes and improve for the next time."
"Will you stop lecturing me!"
"Lady Cockburn, you still have little idea of the world outside your stately home. There are people who like to kill. Some of those people are coming after you. Some of those people are attempting to disrupt the world as a whole and they have turned their sights on us as we try to disrupt their efforts. This is not just an adrenalin ride for a rich lady, this is a life and death struggle. The sooner you fucking understand that, the safer you and your family will be."
Lily was steaming and she glared at Lara who flinched away, knowing that Lily was right. Lily pulled off her clothing and she stalked off to the bathroom naked but for the pistol held in her right hand.
..._...
Lara positively hated it when Lily used her title.
Lily was her friend and confidante. They were like sisters, to a point. It grated that the girl, who was just a few years younger than herself, was so worldly wise. Yes, Lara knew what Lily was, and she was well aware of what the young girl had been trained to be and what she had been trained to do. Lara did her best to listen to Lily, but Lara had never been good when it came to be told what to do, nor was she good at processing criticism over her actions. She and her father had often butted heads when Lara had thought herself to be in the right. The temper tantrums had been epic with her father often bursting out laughing as a red-faced Lara had built up steam, yelling and gesticulating. That laughter would just irritate the young Lara to the point where she would storm off outside, still yelling and gesticulating, until she eventually calmed down.
As a young teen, those tantrums had simply increased in their tempo and regularity, but adulthood appeared to have curbed those tantrums considerably and Lara had a different outlook on life, having finally realised that shouting and gesticulating actually got you nowhere. She knew that she still had a lot to learn and that her privileged upbringing had not exactly helped as she had been kicked out of school after school. Her father had never lost faith in his young daughter, but the man was severely struggling by the time Lara had reached the age of fifteen-years-old. Lara would explode for the tiniest little thing and cause massive arguments.
In part, that temper of hers had played directly into the hands of those who had then kidnapped the girl in the U.S.A. that fateful summer.
..._...
When Lily finally emerged from the bathroom, she found Lara looking very unhappy.
"I'm sorry, Lily; I'm still learning and it's difficult."
"Yes, I suppose it is," Lily replied tartly. "Hurry up, I'm hungry."
Once Lara was in the shower, Lily sighed. It was not Lara's fault per se, but Lara had asked for the life of a vigilante. Lara had insisted that she was ready to learn how to defend both herself and her new family. Lily had not wanted to be teaching anybody the skills which she had learned throughout a major chunk of her childhood, but Lara was in danger which put the kids in danger by proxy. Lily was not bothered about herself or Hillary, as she could look after herself and, it seemed, so could Hillary. During the incident, back in February, Hillary had shown that despite being, on the outside at least, a simple butler, he had gone to town to protect Lara, Lily, and the children. Indeed, the resulting nighttime firefight and endgame had been decidedly epic and bloody, partly thanks to Hillary and his cool-as-a-cucumber unflappable attitude to everything.
Lily finished dressing and she stowed her pistol securely in the holster clipped inside the back of her jeans, the pistol nestling neatly in the small of her back. After running a brush through her long black hair, Lily studied her image in the mirror and was pleased with how she looked. Lily had never been vain, but at fourteen years of age, she was pleased that her body was still trim and correctly shaped. Lily was also attracted to a couple of the boys at school and she wanted to attract them. It had been a long time since she had enjoyed any sexual encounter other than what her own fingers could produce, and she wanted to feel the touch of somebody else's fingers - eventually.
Her thoughts were quickly interrupted as Lara breezed out of the bathroom; her body barely covered by the towel.
..._...
"This is good . . . so good."
Lily laughed as Lara dug into the juicy medium-rare steak on her plate. The twelve-ounce slab of meat was surrounded by thick-cut chips, a large grilled mushroom, half a grilled tomato, and a good-sized portion of garden peas. Lily herself was working through a mixed grill of chicken breast, a smaller six-ounce steak, two pork sausages, two fried eggs, hand-cut battered onion rings, and a slab of gammon. Both girls drank from large glasses of Coke, despite the fact that Lara was no virgin when it came to drinking alcohol. Lily had never touched the stuff and the girl had never been tempted. The restaurant was busy and noisy which allowed the two girls to converse without anyone eavesdropping on their conversation.
"For your first solo outing, it could have gone worse."
Lara scowled and she stabbed at her steak with her fork. Lily grinned.
"Just teasing!" she said.
"Thanks for being there for me," Lara said, and she meant every word.
"Always."
The following morning...
Tuesday, May 30th
Department of Children and Family Services
Los Angeles, United States of America
09:07 GMT-7 (16:07 GMT May 30th)
Amber Tyler was not a happy woman as she was told to stand up and turn around by the LAPD officer.
The woman had never before felt cold steel on her wrists, and the click of the handcuffs confirmed that what was happening to her was very real. She had just been handed an Arrest Warrant on the charge of child neglect – among other charges – by a grinning FBI agent who had barged into her office dead on nine o'clock that morning. As she was led out of her office, she saw her husband, Kramer Tyler, in the same predicament, his hands secured behind his back and an FBI agent at his side.
"Oh," a voice called out from the office across the corridor – it was the head of Children and Family Services. "This means that you're both fired."
At the end of the third-floor corridor, as the arrested couple paused to wait for an elevator, Amber Tyler saw her former daughter standing beside a young woman whom she recognised as the same woman who had barged into her office before Christmas to demand guardianship of Madeline.
"You bitch!" Amber spat.
"Fuck you!" Maddie retorted, ramming her fist into her former mother's face.
After screaming in pain for a moment, Amber Tyler turned to the FBI agent.
"Did you see that?" she demanded as blood spilled down her face and onto her pristine blouse. "She assaulted me! Arrest her!"
"Sorry, I must have missed that," Special Agent Frank Draper replied. "You see anything officer?"
"I think the lady musta tripped," the LAPD officer replied with a wink.
"You fucking worthless whore!" Amber Tyler yelled out as she tried to move in Maddie's direction.
"Get her out of here!" Draper demanded. "I wish you and your brother a happy life, Maddie."
"Thank you, sir," Maddie replied as she leaned into Erika.
Kramer Tyler never said a word as he was led past his former daughter – he barely even looked in her direction.
"Let's go rescue your brother from Sky and Chrissy, then we can pick up the boys, and we can all go for ice cream," Erika suggested as she guided Maddie towards the stairs.
..._..
"Is it over?" Connor asked his sister as they met outside a few minutes later.
"Yes," Maddie replied. "You will never be alone. You will always have a family who cares about you. I will always be there for you, as will Erika. However, you better watch out for the twins – they're..."
"Cool!" Connor cut in. "I think they're awesome!"
Maddie scowled as she made for the car, ignoring the grinning twins.
"Well I'm going for ice cream with Erika – feel free to stay with your 'cool friends', Sky and Chrissy," Maddie commented.
The young boy was at the car in a flash, an enormous grin stretching from ear to ear.
..._...
Connor Tyler had been staying with his sister for almost two weeks.
Erika had successfully petitioned for emergency custody of the boy based on his wounds suffered as a direct result of his parents' negligence. Yet again, the Tyler's had not cared much to put up much more than a token defence, proving to the boy that Maddie was right – his parents could care less about what happened to him. It had been hard on the youngster as he did love his parents and he had enjoyed his life . . . at least he thought he did, but then he had sat down and thought through his short life and he had suddenly realised how much of his life, he had spent alone. Surprisingly, he found that he had also missed his wayward older sister and, as such, he was very pleased to be back with her again. At first, Connor had been a little unsure of the twins, but after a week, he had realised that they were not as scary as he had first thought. As for the boys, they were very funny, Connor thought – if a little crude.
Then there was Erika. As Maddie had promised, Erika was very approachable and was always happy to spend time with the boy – a massive improvement on his previous life. Erika was instantly likeable, and Connor knew that he had made the right decision almost straight away. It had been fun to get to know his big sister again, and he realised that she was very different to the stuck-up, cold loner whom he had grown up with – she had changed, and he felt himself drawn closer to her. Indeed, just the previous weekend, he had been shocked to find Maddie out by the pool – that was shocking enough – but the boy was stunned to find her wearing a bikini!
"Since when did you show off so much skin?" Connor asked.
"Since last year, I suppose," Maddie replied nonchalantly from behind her dark sunglasses.
"Believe me," Sky commented. "It took a lot just to make your sister wear shorts when we first met her."
"I can believe that," Connor grinned. "Maddie was always so pale."
"Would you believe that she actually went skinny-dipping?" Chrissy asked the boy.
"Never!" Connor exclaimed, totally astounded. "Naked in front of others – never!"
"She was – boobs and all," Sky confirmed. "Your sister has changed a lot in six months – all for the better."
"Can we talk about something else, please?" Maddie complained.
"I like talking about you, Mads," Connor admitted.
"Well, I don't!" Maddie groused.
Connor was very happy with the way his new life was going.
That evening...
The Aon Building
Los Angeles
19:45 GMT-7 (02:45 GMT May 31st)
The basement was cool, thanks to its concrete construction.
The concrete also created a wonderful environment to fight in. In this case, the concrete subterranean carpark was usually deemed to be a suitably secure location for important personages to board their transport. On the second subterranean level, a large black Mercedes S500 swept up and stopped beside the executive elevator. A man in a dark suit and shades jumped out, looked around briefly, then opened the rear door just as the elevator doors opened. A smartly dressed man, wearing a dark blue Saville Row suit, stepped out of the car and stepped into the elevator, leaving his four-person security entourage and the driver behind.
While the executive elevator whisked Dieter Mannheim directly to his offices on the twenty-eighth floor, a young man stepped into view from behind a concrete pillar. The young man was shaking his head as, with the flick of his right wrist, he extended the ASP he held in his right hand. The snap of the ASP extending had the four-person security entourage turning his direction like targets on a range.
"What do you want?" Hank Belbrook demanded. "This section is off limits, kid, so beat it!"
"I want to kick the shit out of you tossers," the young man responded coolly.
The three men and one woman were all dressed alike in the same black suits although the woman was not wearing a tie. They each exchanged glances, not overly worried by their opponent – their mistake.
"Get him," the man in charge ordered and the remaining two men and the woman stepped forward, moving apart to cover a full one-eighty-degree front.
Each deployed an ASP, just like the young man's, only, the young man deployed a second ASP in response to the three opponents. He was not fazed, in any way; fighting three adults was nothing more than a snack as far as he was concerned. The young man allowed the hired protection to move closer. The man to his right was attempting to outflank him and move past his field of vision, robbing the young man of the ability to keep an eye on all three of his opponents – that was not on. Deftly, the young man stepped to his right and he instantly disabled the goon there with his ASP scything into the man's throat, destroying the man's windpipe. As the man fell to the ground, choking on his own blood, the second man approached from the front, his ASP coming down towards the young man's head. A swift dodge on the young man's part blocked the ASP with the two he held, and he then struck backwards with one ASP to where the woman had tried to blindside him. She was then felled by a swift kick to the jaw which coincidentally broke the woman's nose as she fell against a car's trunk. The second man reached for his pistol, carried in a shoulder holster, but before he could bring the weapon to bear, he was expertly disarmed before he then received a bullet in his left thigh for his trouble. The woman came in for another attack, but she was viciously struck down by an ASP across her belly and another across her back. As the woman hit the concrete, the fourth man who had been watching the fight stepped forward, his own ASP raised. The young man stepped over the groaning woman and met the man halfway.
"You fight well," the man commented as the pair began to circle one another.
"Can't say the same for your flunkeys," the young man responded.
"You just can't get the staff nowadays."
"Tell me about it," the young man mused.
"Enough!" a commanding voice called out from the direction of the elevator.
The young man turned to see a stunning woman, tall, and in her mid-thirties, stepping out of the elevator. The woman had jet black hair which hung down around her shoulders. She wore a royal blue trouser suit with matching high-heels and from the way the remaining hired gun stepped back – was that fear, the young man wondered – the woman was obviously important and maybe the bastard's boss. The woman surveyed the bloody scene with a look of disgust on her face – she was obviously not fazed by the sight of blood, the young man thought.
"Who are you?" the woman demanded of the young man without preamble.
"Evans, Robert Evans."
"Belbrook!"
"Yes, ma'am!" the man responded swiftly.
"Clean up this fucking mess!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
"Your security could do with a slight upgrade," the young man pointed out.
"Nine o'clock Tuesday morning," the woman said as she turned for the elevator.
"May I enquire as to who you are?" the young man asked.
"Your boss!"
The young man grinned approvingly as he watched the stunning woman enter the elevator, the doors closing behind her. The young man stowed his ASPs and began to walk out of the subterranean garage.
"You fucking whelp," the remaining man growled. "I will make you pay, and I will make you hurt so fucking badly."
The strong fist of Leo Shepherd piledrove the man to the ground with a single punch to the side of his head.
"Contemptible bastard!"