Late evening...
Saturday, June 3rd, 2017
Metz, France
22:00 GMT+2 (20:00 GMT June 3rd)
Rue Albert Bettannier
Tango One: La Coccinelle, Nemesis, Glide & Termino
Glide was surprisingly good with the locks, Termino noticed as the final one opened with a barely audible click.
"Not bad for a little girl," Termino reasoned.
"I started picking locks when I was six," Glide responded.
"Weren't you taken to be a Predator when you were seven?" Nemesis queried.
"I wasn't always a good little girl," Glide advised her mother before swiftly changing the subject. "Is the Q&A over now? Good! Let's go kill some fuckers!"
Glide stowed her lock picking tools into her utility belt, and she drew her Smith & Wesson M&P 22 Compact from its holster – a four-inch suppressor was mounted onto the end of the barrel and an LED flashlight was fitted below the muzzle. Termino chuckled at the youngster as Nemesis scowled beneath her mask.
"Tango One is ready to breech!" La Coccinelle warned the other team.
"Tango Two is go!" Le Chat Noir responded.
"Lead on, good lady," Termino grinned as he gripped the outside handle of the glazed double door and pulled it open. "Breeching now!"
Glide stepped through the door; her pistol held up before her.
22:01 GMT+2 (20:01 GMT June 3rd)
The Metz Safehouse
The five men in the living room lounged on mismatched chairs which had seen better days but were still functional.
Four of them were drinking cheap French beer out of small glass bottles as they conversed in low tones. The fifth man was dozing in a soft chair whose stuffing seeped out of various rips and tears in the fabric. Scattered on a low wooden table were the remnants of takeouts which probably went back several days. They were not a happy bunch, not considering that four of their number were dead and two of them in that room were injured. The stink of disinfectant pervaded the safehouse as did the coppery smell of dried blood, reminding everyone that things had gone horribly wrong. However, they were safe until their controller had more work for them.
Ewan Kemp was the leader of the group and he was not happy doing nothing; he wanted to be doing something – ideally hurting people – to satisfy his boredom. He reached for his beer from the table, but he paused as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise and his well-honed sixth sense made him move his hand six inches to the right and he picked up his pistol instead of the beer. He stood up, turning as he did so, the pistol coming up and turning with him. The curtains over the double doors which led into the back yard moved. Ewan snapped the fingers of his left hand and his men all reached for their weapons.
However, none of them were fast enough as the curtains flew apart and Ewan found himself staring down the wrong end of a pistol suppressor, the pistol beyond held by a surprisingly tiny individual – then he saw a bright flash...
Tango Two: Le Chat Noir, Resolute, Intrepid & La Terreaur
Bedlam ensued.
The men scattered and grabbed for their weapons as they dove for cover. They all turned to face the attack coming from the rear of the property, not a one expecting a two-pronged attack. The SIG Sauer P320 Tacops Carry held in the hands of La Terreaur cracked twice and a man was taken in the chest even as the second bullet blew apart the back of his head. La Terreaur had witnessed Glide stepping into the room and coldly taking down the closest man without so much as a by your leave. While Team One took down the remainder of the group, Team two moved off to clear the rest of the property. Stealth was no longer a requirement as much as it was, and La Terreaur used the bright LED torch mounted beneath the muzzle of her pistol to illuminate the way ahead of her as she moved towards the bedrooms while Resolute covered her back. Le Chat Noir moved with Intrepid to check the kitchen for the enemy.
As Intrepid entered the kitchen, it was in darkness, and she could see nothing out of the ordinary, but then as she moved to check the shadowy areas, a shape materialised out of the darkness and shot Le Chat Noir with a large-calibre pistol. As the French vigilante fell backwards against the sink, the shape bolted forwards and shoved Intrepid off to the side.
"Go!" Le Chat Noir called out as Intrepid paused.
Intrepid bolted after the shape, identifying a woman – x-ray number seven, her mind told her – as they ran. The woman dodged to the left, out of the previously closed doors which led into the back yard. Intrepid gained on the woman and she dived as soon as she was close enough. The woman fell in a perfectly executed rugby tackle which brought her down to the concrete but the momentum of the two females took them forward and before either one knew it; they had plunged into the chlorinated water of the swimming pool.
The woman may have seen the impromptu swim as a way to escape, but she could not know that Intrepid grinned beneath her mask as she found herself in her element. Intrepid dropped her pistol and reached for the knife on her left calf where she pulled it free of her trouser leg. The woman was struggling for the surface having dropped her own pistol in her haste to regain the safety of the air. Intrepid was close behind her, her gloved hands reaching out and yanking the woman back down, even as the woman had just taken a lungful of life-giving air. Intrepid climbed up the woman, surfacing but for a moment and gasping in her own lungful of air before she dove back down, and she wrapped herself around the woman and stabbed as she did so. Intrepid rolled as she stabbed. The woman was disorientated; she had no idea which direction was up, and panic steadily crept in as she realised that she was going to die – by being drowned or stabbed, she had no idea.
Intrepid did not care; she knew that she could hold her breath for as long as it took to ensure that she would be the only one to surface.
..._...
Le Chat Noir raced after Intrepid, and he reached the back yard just in time to see her vanish underwater.
For several moments he considered diving in after her, but he decided to give the girl time once he saw her head re-emerge, take a breath, and then dive back down again. Time seemed to stand still as Intrepid remained underwater, and Le Chat Noir ensured that nobody interfered as he waited for her to re-surface. It seemed an age until the masked head reappeared. The man heard the audible intake of breath as Intrepid refilled her lungs with life-sustaining air. Le Chat Noir reached down, and he hauled the teenager out of the pool.
"I'm good," Intrepid stated for the record as she re-holstered her retrieved pistol. "But she ain't – shit swimmer."
The woman had not surfaced, and her body lay at the bottom of the pool amidst a spreading cloud of blood. Le Chat Noir noticed that Intrepid spared not a second in remorse for the recently dead woman. The girl was cold and totally professional as she checked her weapons and restowed her knife, before drawing her pistol. She may have been dripping wet, but that did not seem to faze her as she ran in the direction of her friends.
Le Chat Noir followed along close behind.
22:08 GMT+2 (20:08 GMT June 3rd)
Rue Albert Bettannier
Tango One: La Coccinelle, Nemesis, Glide & Termino
Glide was unhappy.
She had only been able to kill the one man, although the surprised look on his face as he had eaten the bullet from her suppressed Smith & Wesson M&P 22 Compact, was something which she would remember for a long time.
The young nine-year-old looked around the living room which had been a dump when they had entered – it was now a lot messier and the blood did not exactly add to the décor. As for the bodies, well, they looked kind of cool, Glide thought, all bloody and draped across the furniture like discarded clothing. Apart from ogling the dead, Glide also took solace in seeing that all her friends were still vertical and that nobody appeared to be gravely injured. Then she chuckled as she caught sight of Intrepid entering the room, water dripping all over the carpet.
"What the fuck!?" Glide exclaimed. "Did you take time off to go swimming?"
"Yes – I was a bit bored," Intrepid responded, her tone dripping sarcasm.
"Okay," Glide responded as she grinned up at Nemesis. "What's next, oh great one?"
"I told you, no more pocket money," Nemesis replied.
"Worth a try..."
"Okay, let's get this place checked for intel," Nemesis directed. "We need to get the hell out of here."
With that pronouncement, everyone began pulling open cupboards and drawers as they turned the place over.
22:22 GMT+2 (20:22 GMT June 3rd)
Rue Albert Bettannier
A pile of paperwork and other potentially useful items was growing in size on the living room floor.
Beside the increasing pile of intelligence, the struggling form of the woman they had seized earlier, lay bound and gagged. La Coccinelle and Nemesis went through the clothing worn by the corpses searching for anything of interest. Neither enjoyed the task very much but it was a task which had to be done. By half-past ten, it was agreed that they had accumulated all the intelligence they were going to, so they stuffed everything they had discovered into two large holdalls before they pulled their captive to her feet.
"I am going to enjoy making you tell us all you know," Glide commented as she looked up into the woman's eyes. "I've not enjoyed a good interrogation in a long time."
Glide interpreted the mumbled response as a 'fuck you', and she went off grinning under her mask. Everyone gathered in the backyard with their equipment, keen to make a move before the National Police decided to pay a visit. They left via the back gate and were met by Andrew who was driving the hired panel van. Le Chat Noir and La Coccinelle dumped the trussed-up woman aboard along with the two holdalls loaded with intel. They did not hang around as Andrew accelerated smoothly away and headed to the northeast of Metz where they had acquired a small commercial unit as they could not exactly go through their intel haul in their hotel rooms.
The drive only took about twenty-five minutes and included quite a few counter-surveillance manoeuvres thrown in for good measure.
22:58 GMT+2 (20:58 GMT June 3rd)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
Metz, France
The very moment the panel van had stopped, Yvette and Kaitlin had bolted out of the vehicle to secure the commercial warehouse.
Nobody was taking any chances, especially as they had just killed seven people and left them in a ransacked property, not five miles away. They had also kidnapped an eighth victim and the trussed-up woman had been handed over to Marinette, Cassie, and Naomi for initial processing. Jake and Owen proceeded to throw a long aluminium chain over the steel beams which supported the corrugated iron roof of the warehouse and they attached a shackle onto one end while the other was wrapped once around a convenient vertical support and clipped onto itself by way of a second shackle. Once Yvette and Kaitlin reported back that everything was secure, it was time to start sifting through the paperwork and also to interrogate their reluctant prisoner.
By the time Charlotte had sat down beside Andrew and Alya, the woman had been positioned beneath the dangling chain and the shackle had been secured to a set of steel handcuffs secured to her wrists. The woman had not dared resist as Adrien had kept his pistol readily visible. As the contents of the two holdalls were emptied out by Charlotte for Andrew and Alya to begin sifting through, Yvette and Kaitlin joined Naomi who was taking a knife to the woman's clothing. Piece by piece, item by item, the woman was stripped by the ten-year-old. It was warm inside the warehouse, causing the woman to sweat – although some of the sweat may have been due to her anxiety.
As Naomi stripped the woman, it became very apparent that the woman was a professional and not overly fazed by the prospect of being stripped naked as her arms were hauled above her head, so she was forced to stand on her toes. She was in her late twenties and quite good looking – at least Naomi thought so. Jake grinned at Owen as a pair of well-rounded c-cup breasts were exposed by Naomi cutting away the bra straps. The woman's long brown hair fell over her shoulders as Yvette ripped out the head band which had kept the hair tied up. The body was slender and slightly tanned, although her breasts were paler for a few inches around the areola and nipples.
A few minutes more, and Naomi had finished her task. She stood back, breathing heavily and a little sore. The woman had nice legs, also tanned, and a neatly trimmed triangle at the top of her legs which hid her more feminine secrets from the prying eyes of Jake and Owen.
"All yours," Naomi said as she made for the panel van where she could sit down.
Cassie and Marinette also stood back, the two women having assisted Naomi in her task, as they kicked away the remnants of the women's clothing, clearing the stage for the looming interrogation which was not expected to be pleasant.
Exceedingly early the following morning...
Sunday, June 4th
01:24 GMT+2 (11:24 GMT June 3rd)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
Metz, France
The naked woman dangled from the beam, all alone in the darkness.
She was not cold as the warehouse was muggy inside, but she was decidedly uncomfortable, as her arms ached. Nobody had spoken to her since they had left her, over an hour before, shutting off the lights. They had not gone far, the woman knew, as she had been able to hear the muted sound of talking some ways off but out of sight. She knew the interrogation script inside and out and keeping the interrogatee waiting in a humiliating predicament was high up on that script. She was very aware that the others in the safehouse had been taken out without a moment's thought – there was something peculiar about the mission they had been sent on and the whole thing had come apart in so many ways. They had found themselves up against people who were highly skilled and well-equipped. How those people had found their safehouse, she had no idea. One thing that she did have in her favour was that there was no way for her captors to identify who she was or where she came from. Would she actually survive her interrogation?
There was no point in worrying about what she was going to endure, so she simply focussed on preparing her mind for the mental onslaught ahead.
A few hours later...
04:30 GMT+2 (02:30 GMT June 4th)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
Kaitlin awoke from her nap full of energy, much to Cassie's (and everyone's) annoyance.
Being awoken by an excited nine-year-old was never fun – especially when you were dog tired – however, Cassie knew that the young girl was eager to show her metal in an interrogation. The adults had discussed how far to take the interrogation before they had turned in and they had ultimately chosen to see how things went and how cooperative their captive was. Part of the reason for the stand down – apart from unnerving the captive and giving them all some rest – was to allow their captive's fingerprints to be run by Commander Haig. As everyone finished their coffee and cold pizza, they pulled on their masks and prepared themselves for what was to come.
It had been agreed that the girls could take centre stage with physical assistance from the boys while the adults provided the questions. As the group flipped on the overhead lights around their prisoner, they found that the woman had fallen into a fitful sleep. However, she came awake with a piercing scream as Termino drenched the woman with a bucket of cold water. The woman displayed the classic signs of someone suddenly awoken and instantly confused by their surroundings. That was then taken swift advantage of as Nemesis stepped forward until her masked face was barely an inch from the woman's face. At the same time, Nemesis grasped the woman's hair, preventing a head butt.
"Who the fuck are you?" the electronically enhanced voice demanded. "Why are you after us? What do you want with those girls? Who do you work for? Why should we let you live?"
The questions came thick and fast – too fast to answer – and the woman's mind struggled to understand and process the words which made up each question before the next was thrown at her. In combination with her sudden awakening, her mind had all but crashed – to use a piece of computer terminology. The woman tried to shake her head, to try to get to grips with what was going on, to try and clear her fogged mind. But, no, the hand which held her hair was like iron and every movement of her head was painful. Then the hand released her hair and the form stood back as another bucket of water splashed across the woman's face and naked torso.
Then everything went black as the lights were shut off and then there was silence.
..._...
Twice more the procedure was repeated until the woman sagged on her chains, mentally exhausted.
Then, after the last bucket of cold water, the shivering woman found that the lights stayed on. A piece of her mind told her that the interrogation proper was about to begin. Nemesis also remained and the masked menace's piercing blue eyes caught the woman's attention. They unnerved her, but there was little else to focus on as there was nobody else in her line of sight . . . although she sensed others around her.
"NAME!"
The woman remained silent.
"NAME!"
She had to remain silent.
"NAME!"
Just one word could mean the beginning of the end.
"Forgotten your name, have we? Shall I help?"
Huh?
"Your name is Joanna."
How could they...?
"We know a lot about you, Joanna."
It was a trick . . . it had to be . . . they must have taken her fingerprints . . . but no, that would have needed high-level access...
"Joanna Regis. British national. Born '94."
They knew too much! How could she resist an interrogation when they already knew all the answers?
"You are – or should I say, were – a lance corporal in the British Army. Royal Regiment of Fusiliers," Nemesis went on as she referred to a tablet held in her left gauntlet.
Nemesis grinned beneath her mask – she could see the look of horror creeping onto her prisoner's face.
"Joanna Regis: five years of unblemished service and then sentenced to a two month stretch for striking an officer – stupid thing to do! Broke out of the glasshouse after ten days and then went AWOL. You a mercenary now, Joanna?"
Must not respond.
"Okay, that was the easy stuff – now we move onto what we really want to know."
The armour-clad individual vanished from sight to be replaced by someone almost two feet shorter. Joanna Regis could not resist a sly grin. It was obviously a child – a child in body armour and a mask.
"I know what you're thinking, bitch!" came another electronically enhanced voice as the small person paced backwards and forwards. "You think I'm no threat to you . . . YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHO I AM OR WHAT I AM CAPABLE OF!"
The last sentence was bellowed and then Joanna felt searing pain and she struggled to breath as the short person rammed its right gauntlet into her left breast much, much harder than she could ever have imagined.
"What is your mission?"
Joanna could not have spoken even if she had wanted to as she fought back the pain and she struggled to control her breathing.
A short while later...
06:10 GMT+2 (04:10 GMT June 4th)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
The intelligence haul which they had seized from the safehouse had proved lucrative and Alya had compiled some useful information on the people they had slaughtered and the operation that those people had mounted.
Their uncooperative prisoner still hung from her chains, but the supple skin of her body was marred by a broad spectrum of black and blue bruises. Blood dripped from a cut on her left cheek which was liberally streaked with tears. Her head hung low over her chest, her eyes staring at the concrete floor at her bare feet. Her skin was clammy with sweat which made her bruises shimmer and gave them life. Glide and Prowl had worked her over with the assistance of Intrepid. The boys had remained close should things turn ugly for the girls. However, their captive appeared to be relatively docile but Intrepid had simply put that down to interrogation training. The captive had never spoken a word during her ordeal which had earned Joanna respect in the eyes of the Predators – not that she could see their eyes behind the masks.
"It's time to move things along," Glide directed darkly, tipping her head towards where a large wooden tub which had been filled with cold water.
The boys nodded as they lowered the naked woman to the concrete floor of the warehouse. The woman screamed out as blood re-entered her arms and she was able to properly move her limbs for the first time in over six hours. Termino and Resolute dragged the unprotesting woman across the rough concrete floor, adding to her injuries before they dumped her down beside the tub. Without hesitation, and at a signal from Prowl, the woman was shoved headfirst into the tub and held in position with her hands handcuffed at her back. It only took about four seconds for the woman to begin struggling against the boys. Nemesis and La Terreaur held the woman's legs in place leaving the boys to hold the woman's torso down. After twelve seconds the woman was raised up, coughing and spluttering.
"You ready to talk?" Prowl asked in a conversational and non-confrontational tone, just as she had been taught, so long ago.
The woman was shaking, and she struggled to turn her head to face the voice, her sodden long brown hair across her face. There was fear in her eyes, but she held fast, saying nothing. Prowl tilted her head to the right and the woman went back under the water.
"Stop!"
Prowl and Glide turned to see Alya and Andrew running towards them.
"Let her up," Prowl advised the boys and they did so.
Joanna fell to the concrete, coughing and spluttering as she struggled to refill her lungs.
..._...
A few minutes passed as the three adults exchanged a few words.
"What!?" Nemesis exclaimed.
"It's true," Andrew confirmed.
"Use the codewords and see what happens," Alya suggested.
Nemesis reread the email on Alya's tablet before she walked over to the naked woman who lay on the concrete floor. Nemesis knelt down and she touched the woman's right shoulder.
"Joanna, I need you to look at me – sit her up."
The boys and La Terreaur hauled the woman up so she was more or less in a sitting position. Nemesis used her gauntlet to move the woman's wet hair away from her face. The eyes opened slowly, and Nemesis looked into the dark brown eyes which were filled with fear but also resolve.
"Joanna, I have a single word: crowkeeper."
For a moment there was no reaction – not a one – but then Nemesis saw Joanna's eyes focus and the fear in them was replaced by hope and an expectant expression prompted Nemesis to continue.
"Defenestrate."
Joanna crumpled to the ground, sobbing violently.
"What the mother-fuck is going on!?" Glide demanded as Nemesis stood up.
"She's British Army."
"We know that."
"She's fucking undercover – deep undercover; her time in prison, the assault . . . all a fucking cover for getting her accepted into the organisation those bastards worked for," Nemesis explained.
"Who the fuck says?" Prowl wanted to know.
"Spook."
"Oh," Glide said. "So those words...?"
"Two words which would never be said in normal conversation, but Joanna recognises them as triggers that mean her mission is over," Andrew explained.
"Release her, find her something to cover up with, and guard her," Nemesis ordered Intrepid.
Termino removed the handcuffs then left Intrepid and Resolute to help the still-sobbing woman to her feet and over to where La Coccinelle had laid out a blanket for Joanna to lie on and another to cover her with.
07:50 GMT+2 (05:50 GMT June 4th)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
It was time for breakfast.
Naturally, the animals were hungry, so they were fed first which just left the adults to fend for themselves while the feeding frenzy was enacted just a few yards away. As for their ex-captive, she was sleeping while Adrien kept watch over her.
"What was that second codeword?" Kaitlin asked Cassie a short while later.
"Defenestrate."
Cassie laughed at her daughter's expectant expression.
"Something I often dream of doing to you, honey."
"Not getting it."
"It means to throw someone out of a window," Charlotte said with a broad grin. "I can use you to demonstrate if you wish."
"There's a word for that?" Kaitlin asked rhetorically, then added sarcastically. "No, I'll just take your word for it, Charlie . . . thanks, anyway."
"What now?" Andrew asked his wife.
"We let her rest for a while longer and then we ask her some questions," Cassie replied. "I want answers!"
Kaitlin nodded her acceptance – she too wanted answers.
10:00 GMT+2 (08:00 GMT June 4th)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
Joanna Regis was clothed for the first time in twelve hours.
She ached from head to toe and she found that sitting on a chair was painful thanks to the bruising on her thighs and bottom. She had never felt so relieved in her life as she was when she had heard those two simple codewords. Five months she had been undercover and for it all to end with torture was not fun. However, she had swiftly realised that she had almost died in a blue—on-blue. Whoever they were, they were obviously friendlies with contacts high up in the Ministry of Defence. Could it have all been a ploy? No – not a chance. Only two people held those codewords and she trusted them explicitly. However, she had no idea how far she could go with these people – her mission was highly classified – but they did have a right to know, she considered, especially if two of the shorter girls were whom she thought they were.
Initially, she had been alone, but then a small girl had appeared – no mask, and no visible body armour. She was, however, armed. The girl saw Joanna glancing at the small pistol which sat in an open holster clipped to the belt which held up the girl's jeans.
"Don't even think about it!" the girl cautioned. "You'd be long dead before you moved your first muscle."
"I'm sorry, little girl; it isn't all that often you see a girl such as yourself armed with a pistol," Joanna responded.
"Go easy on the little; I'm growing as fast as I can!" Kaitlin responded.
Joanna laughed, then winced as her ribs reminded her that they were very sore. Joanna's keen eyes caught the semi-apologetic look which flashed across the youngster's face and Joanna realised that the little girl before her was the very one who had inflicted so much pain and damage to her body, just a few hours before.
"Yes, Kaitlin was the one who tortured you," a voice said from behind Joanna.
Joanna turned to see a young woman, a few inches over five feet in height with shoulder length dark brown hair tied back in a very business-like fashion. The young woman was also armed with a pistol, fitted under her left armpit in a slimline shoulder holster.
"I am Cassie and we would like to understand what is going on with you. We also want to find out what the hell is going on."
Joanna nodded.
"I suppose I should say thankyou for not killing me back at the safehouse. It was fate that I was taken rather than simply killed. I recognise that I am incredibly lucky to have survived your attack on the safehouse, and the anger of little Kaitlin here."
"Sorry, I suppose," Kaitlin muttered.
"How could a little girl like you know how to inflict such pain so skilfully?" Joanna asked Kaitlin.
"Let's keep the questions focussed, shall we?" Cassie asked pointedly. "However, you answer our questions correctly, then we shall see about answering some of yours, Joanna."
"Okay – fire away."
The questioning began in earnest.
12:05 GMT+2 (10:05 GMT June 4th)
Vengeance/Honneur Safehouse
Two hours had passed by in a flash.
Both sides of the questioning were now a lot wiser than they had been two hours previously.
For instance, Joanna now knew that Kaitlin was a partially trained killer as were the other children who had taken part in the attack on the safehouse. However, Joanna was still in the dark as to how those children had become what they were. Joanna also knew that she could trust the people who had chosen not to terminate her life. As for Cassie and Kaitlin, they both knew an awful lot more than they had, only every answer had simply produced yet another question.
"So?" Jake asked as Cassie and Kaitlin reappeared.
"Their mission was to recover two girls: Naomi Bedford and Kaitlin Luton. The girls were to be taken to a rendezvous – with whom, we have no idea," Cassie explained. "That was why everything went to hell at Disneyland – well, partially. Apparently, the bombs were part of a destabilising element as a precursor to something much bigger – so much bigger, it seems. The mission to recover the girls was a sideshow."
"Who would want the girls?" Charlotte asked.
"Thanks!" Naomi retorted.
"I don't mean it like that, Naomi. Somebody knew who you were before you were both taken as Predators – that is a concern," Charlotte persisted.
"Yes, it is," Andrew agreed. "We do not know very much about the girls' life before they were taken, and neither can remember very much."
Naomi and Kaitlin both shook their heads.
"It looks like somebody wants them back," Cassie admitted. "However, that trail has gone cold – for now. Instead, we have a new target."
"She told you who they were working for?" Marinette asked.
"The bastards are – were – Gémeaux," Cassie stated.
"The frog organisation?" Jake said. "Oh, sorry."
"No offence taken," Alya chuckled.
"Well, what do we have?" Adrien asked.
"We think we might know where the leader of Gémeaux is – at least we think so. According to some papers and from what Joanna learned during her time with the mercenaries, the big boss flies in and out of Strasbourg – and he is due to be there tonight."
"Tonight?" Naomi echoed.
"Tonight," Cassie confirmed.
"Another road trip?" Kaitlin groaned.
"Suck it up, short arse!" Charlotte grinned.
"Not funny!"
"What are we doing about Joanna?" Owen enquired.
"We drop her off at the airport on our way out of town – apparently, the Red Caps want to speak with her; it seems her break out was a little too realistic and a soldier ended up in hospital," Cassie explained before she focussed on her youngest daughter. "Now, let's get packed up and we can let Kaitlin torch the van – she's good at destroying vehicles."
"You bust up one goddamn cop car and no one ever forgets!" Kaitlin complained bitterly as Charlotte and Jake laughed out loud.
It took forty minutes to sanitise the warehouse and pile everything which was even remotely incriminating into the panel van which was then driven onto waste ground outside the city by Adrien, leaving Kaitlin to pour petrol over the inside before she tossed in a timed pyrotechnic – the pair were a mile away when the pyrotechnic charge detonated and the van exploded into flames.
14:35 GMT+2 (12:35 GMT June 4th)
On the A4 heading east
Bentley Continental GT Speed: Cassie, Charlotte, Kaitlin & Naomi
Aston Martin Rapide S: Andrew, Jake, Owen & Alya
Audi S8 Quattro: Marinette, Adrien & Yvette
After a brief diversion to drop Joanna off at the airport for her flight back to London, the trio of vehicles were soon speeding in an easterly direction towards the commune of Freyming-Merlebach where they would then turn south.
The drive was just as boring as before and it was expected to take about two hours, much to Kaitlin's annoyance. That annoyance was then turned on her fellow passengers which then set off Naomi and Charlotte as the three girls sniped at one another, driving Cassie to the point of insanity. As the bickering rose in crescendo, Cassie decided that it was time to act. Without any warning, Andrew in the Aston Martin saw the brake lights on the rear of the Bentley ahead of him snap on and then the large vehicle came to a very rapid halt on the shoulder. Andrew shot past, followed by Marinette driving the Audi, both confused by the rapid stop.
"Keep going," Cassie radioed. "I have three murders to commit!"
The said murderees all froze as Cassie produced a bright yellow Taser from under her seat and she pointed it at each girl in turn.
"Which bitch wants it first?" she demanded angrily.
Kaitlin opened her mouth to respond.
"One wisecrack and you get a blast," Cassie warned the nine-year-old.
Kaitlin winced as she closed her mouth.
"Can we continue without any bitchy behaviour, ladies?" Cassie asked good-naturedly, but somewhat pointedly.
"Yes, ma'am," Charlotte responded from the front seat as she looked down at her feet.
"Yes, Mum," Kaitlin muttered as she sulked in her plushily upholstered backseat.
"Yes, Mum," Naomi confirmed as she too sulked.
"Good," Cassie grinned as she moved her right foot from the brake pedal to the accelerator and she buried the pedal deep into the plush carpet.
The six-litre W12 engine smoothly accelerated the 2.5-tonne automobile off the shoulder, and they passed sixty miles-per-hour a mere 3.7 seconds later.
Some interminable time later...
16:20 GMT+2 (14:20 GMT June 4th)
Strasbourg, France
They cruised into the north of the French city of Strasbourg located on the Seine River and the German border, in the late afternoon and stopped a short distance off the A35.
"Oh, thank fuck!"
"A long trip?" Marinette asked her friend.
"I think I'm going insane," Cassie replied with a nod.
"Yvette never stopped talking the entire way – God, that girl can talk!" Marinette chuckled.
"Well, we made it - in more or less one piece," Adrien commented.
Yvette ran over to join her friends and the four girls soon began to gossip loudly while Jake and Owen gave them a wide berth.
Two hours later...
18:28 GMT+2 (16:28 GMT June 4th)
L'Aéroport Strasbourg
Strasbourg, France
Cassie, Marinette, and Adrien had left the children in Andrew's care and taken the Audi S8 out to the airport, located a few miles to the southeast of Strasbourg.
There, the trio had behaved like passengers, parking their car but taking their time to unload some non-existent baggage. They had parked their car in what they hoped would be a good location, and right on time Alya came over the radio.
"We have him inbound now, should be touching down in the next minute. He's been directed to stand A6, repeat A6."
"Thanks, Alya – we have him," Adrien responded as he trained a set of powerful binoculars on the sleek twin-engine business jet, which was descending towards the runway, undercarriage extended.
As they watched, the silver jet touched down and decelerated as it came off the runway before taxiing over to the terminal which was over to their right. Adrien read the registration off the tail and Marinette confirmed that it was indeed the correct aircraft. Crucially, the aircraft approached the correct stand which was located almost directly ahead of where they were parked, but just off to the left. It was expected that the aircraft would be parked at an angle on the stand which would allow them to see who exited the aircraft. It was several minutes before the aircraft came to a stop and the twin tail-mounted engines wound down. Then the hatch at the front of the aircraft on the left side opened and lowered to form the stairway. Two men were seen to exit the aircraft – they were identified to be obvious security personnel.
Then came the man that they were expecting – the leader of Gémeaux – only, the tall man who descended the stairway from the aircraft, dressed in a pale cream suit was immediately identified by a very confused Adrien.
"Dad?"