Later that evening...
Thursday, June 15th
Fifteen nautical miles north-northwest of Trapani, Sicily
19:15 GMT+2 (17:15 GMT June 15th)
OCEAN VIGILANTE
Mindy had a set of powerful binoculars raised to her eyes as she scanned the horizon ahead.
It was another ten minutes before the increasingly familiar shape of the CALICO QUEST became visible on the horizon ahead of them. Their rendezvous was well off the normal shipping lanes and the transfer of people and equipment should not be noticed. Mindy was pleased to see the monstrous silhouette of NIGHTSHADE secured upon the helideck located ahead of the towering vessel's bridge.
As they closed, a workboat was lowered from the CALICO QUEST. The bright orange rigid hulled inflatable raced across the gap between the two vessels just as OCEAN VIGILANTE hove to. Four hundred yards beyond the OCEAN VIGILANTE, CALEDONIA cut her engines and she drifted on the gentle swell. With practiced ease, the workboat came alongside the counter at the stern of OCEAN VIGILANTE.
"My respects to the captain, and we are ready to embark the first team," Kate advised as she grinned up at Shannon who had taken the bow rope from the crewman in the bow of the workboat. "We can take fifteen per trip – a second workboat is on its way over to Caledonia."
"Thank you, Kate," Dave called down from the upper deck. "First group is ready to disembark."
Kate waved a hand as the first group appeared at the stern and began to board the workboat.
..._...
Mindy felt pangs inside as she stepped aboard the workboat.
Her son and daughter were heading into a real battle for the very first time. Even worse, neither were to be with her. Earlier that day, she and Chloe had taken their three young children aside for a talk – and not an easy talk, either.
"I don't want to do this," Mindy muttered. "I can't let them go!"
"You can't keep holding them back," Chloe cautioned. "But I know how you feel. Remember, they both took their first lives, over a year ago, in Toulouse."
Mindy grinned.
"I can still hear Anne-Marie complaining about the blood on her blades and what Saoirse might say about it."
"They won't be alone," Chloe pointed out. "Petra will keep an eye on her, and Glide is going to partner Rogue."
"Don't know who I feel sorrier for – little Kaitlin or Anne-Marie!" Mindy chuckled before her grin rapidly faded. "I can't go through losing another child, Chloe."
"I know," Chloe muttered as she looked up. "They're here."
"Steph said you were looking for us," Danny said as he, Anne-Marie, and Becky appeared.
"What's wrong?" Becky demanded as she scanned the faces of Mindy and Chloe.
Extraordinarily little got past Becky, despite her tender years.
"Okay," Mindy began. "You three are nine-years-old, and as we mentioned the other day, we think that you are all old enough to go on a mission."
There were three enormous grins, "Yes!" Danny grinned.
"But you don't want us to go," Anne-Marie commented perceptively.
Mindy closed her eyes for a moment before she responded.
"I love you both like you were my own. I promised your father that I would keep both of you safe. I know you have both trained hard for this and I know that you can look after yourselves – and have done for over a year now."
"We know you love us, Mom," Anne-Marie replied.
Becky nodded.
"It's okay, Mum," she said to Chloe before she looked over at Mindy and then back at Chloe. "You've trained us, both of you, and we are prepared. We will come back. We'll make you both proud, all three of us will."
"Oh, fuck!" Mindy growled as she forced back the unbidden tears. "Stay fucking safe, understand me. Listen to everything you are told. Keep your eyes and ears open. Do not fucking go off on your own. Stay with your buddy, got that?"
The three children nodded as they then hugged their respective parent.
19:50 GMT+2 (17:50 GMT June 15th)
CALICO QUEST
As Strike Team Bravo and Strike Team Zeta came aboard, they were pointed in the direction of three large steel containers which were bolted down to the capacious after deck beside the cavernous opening of the moonpool.
Keira was there to welcome the two teams aboard. Naturally, her ever-inquisitive little sister had much to say – after a big hug at least. Her mouth was kind of like a broken sewer – shit just kept pouring out!
"Cassie Tasered me," Harper said proudly.
"Why is that something to be proud about?" Keira asked, dreading the answer.
"I dunno – it was cool; maybe a little painful."
"Madam, there, and Rylee were getting a little too big for their boots," Cassie advised her friend.
"Character building," Keira laughed.
"No, it wasn't," Rylee pouted as Tanya and Simon laughed.
Then Harper changed the subject.
"Wasn't the helicopter a lighter colour before?" she pointed out.
"Yes, she was," Keira responded.
"She staying black?"
"Inquisitive little girl . . . no. The black paint is temporary for the mission. It sprays on and then comes off after about two weeks with an application of high-pressure water. If we want, we can blast it off sooner with a special chemical – the original paintjob is still under the paint. If we want something more semi-permanent, we can use a vinyl wrap but for now the matte black will keep us hidden at night."
"Oh."
Harper ran off to be with her friends.
Strike Team Alpha (20)
Callsign: Alpha One Command: Dave Lizewski (Kick-Ass) Operators: Joshua Williams (Jackal), Curtis Bennett (Trojan), Shannon Miller (Stormtide), Saoirse Hella (Foxtail), Lucy Ford (Piranha), Tommy Morgan (Splinter), Rylee Clarkson (Noxa), Simon Dalton (Custos), Tanya Enfield (Necis)
Callsign: Alpha Two Command: Cameron King (Drift) Operators: Hailee Richards (Petra), Marc Ryan (Tempest), Craig Montgomery (Stripe), Olivia Kensington (Ajax), Eva Horton (Nox), Kaitlin Bedford (Glide), Anne-Marie Lizewski (Rogue), Xiāngxìn Lau (Tao Wu), Lin Lau (Tao Tei)
Strike Team Bravo (20)
Callsign: Bravo One Command: Mindy Lizewski (Hit Girl), Chloe Bennett (Shadow), Marinette Cheng (La Coccinelle), Willow Harrison (Rampart), Charlotte Perrin (Intrepid), Jake Bedford (Resolute), Dakota McFadden (Arbiter), Stephanie Lizewski (Psyche), Abigail Murphy (Fury), Jeremy Lai (Harrier)
Callsign: Bravo Two Command: Cassie Bedford (Nemesis), Adrien Agreste (Le Chat Noir), Owen Sterling (Termino), Megan Williams (Wildcat), Jamie Lizewski (Rage), Annabelle Miller (Hellcat), Iain Miller (Tigercat), Harper Sharp (Polaris), Yvette Dubois (La Terreaur), Electra Haig (Rigour)
Strike Team Zeta (3)
Callsign: Zeta One Command: Rylee Clarkson (Noxa) Operators: Simon Dalton (Custos), Tanya Enfield (Necis)
Sniper Team Sierra (2)
Callsign: Sierra One Command: Mathilda Lando (Leon) Operator: Ruth Anders (Songbird)
Support Teams (15)
Aviation Element (4)
Callsign: November One Vessel: NIGHTSHADE Command: Keira Sharp (Scorpion) Operators: Kate Montgomery (Goshawk), David Montgomery (Chief), Jennifer Staite (Surgeon)
Small Boat Element (7)
Callsign: Whiskey One Vessel: GREY FOX Command: Patrick Miller (Astute) Operators: Rachel Clarkson (Doctrina), Amber Dawson (Spark)
Callsign: Yankee One Vessel: ODYSSEY Command: Scarlett Radford (Pyrrha) Operators: Freya Grace Thompson (Obsidian), Danny Lizewski (Ravage), Becky Bennett (Scamp)
Command & Control Element (5)
Callsign: Charlie One Vessel: CALEDONIA Command: Jasper Collins (Sleuth) Operator: Alya Césaire (Akuma)
Callsign: Oscar One Vessel: OCEAN VIGILANTE Command: Marty Eisenburg (Battle Guy) Operators: Abby Hunt (Hal), Ariana McKenna (Thunderstorm)
Auxiliary Support Element (2)
Callsign: Quebec One Vessel: CALICO QUEST Command: Andrew Bedford (Allegiant) Operators: Naomi Bedford (Prowl)
..._...
While they had all gathered aboard CALEDONIA, back in Marseilles, Joshua had thought that having Megan, Annabelle, and Iain all in a team together had been worthy of yet another 'kitty joke' . . . this time in the form of a theme song:
Thundercats
Thunder, thunder
Thunder, Thundercats, ho
Joshua paused the tune as Adrien stepped over and the French vigilante glared down at Joshua.
"You got something funny to say about cats, Jackal?" Adrien grinned.
"No," Joshua responded wisely as Megan and Annabelle giggled.
"Pleased to hear it," Le Chat Noir commented as he grinned down at his fellow felines.
Joshua pressed play and the three younger cats began singing, very loudly:
Thundercats
Are on the move
Thundercats are loose
Feel the magic
Hear the roar
Thundercats are loose
Thunder, thunder
Thunder, Thundercats
Thunder, thunder
Thunder, Thundercats
Thunder, thunder
Thunder, Thundercats
Thunder, thunder
Thunder, Thundercats
Thundercats
A short while later...
Four nautical miles north of Scopello, Sicily
21:15 GMT+2 (19:15 GMT June 15th)
The CALICO QUEST was a mere curiosity as she loitered off the coast.
All was incredibly open; her deck lights were illuminated as were all her usual navigation lights. Nobody paid the vessel a second glance as she hid in plain sight. That night, she was an assault ship. Her job was to put ashore a combined sea and air assault. The airborne element had already departed with the twenty members of Strike Team Bravo. As for the seaborne element, they were preparing to board their assault boats – actually, two workboats and two RHIBs – with which they would storm ashore before stealthily attacking their primary target for the evening – the home of one Vito Genovese.
However, their first problem was the disposal of the two guard boats, the presence of which had been discovered during the reconnaissance, the previous month. It was fairly obvious that Vito would take his security seriously and therefore, the presence of two guard boats (actually fishing boats carrying armed men) to provide advance warning of an assault from the sea was an expected precaution on his part. Mindy had first suggested a pair of anti-ship missiles but after the laughing had stopped, the slightly annoyed and disgruntled Mindy had then suggested combat swimmers.
She had recently been reading over some Predator files when she had discovered some interesting facts about three young children.
Friday, June 16th
Two kilometres east of the objective
00:05 GMT+2 (22:05 GMT June 15th)
CALICO QUEST: Strike Team Zeta
Earlier that night, an alert had gone out concerning a missing sailor from a passing merchantman, as such, the sound of large and medium-sized helicopters buzzing around the night skies was being ignored by everyone on the ground who just complained about the noise as the machines clattered overhead.
Therefore, nobody paid the slightest interest to a certain helicopter which trundled around the island with a rather unsightly underslung load. Least of all the two guard boats which loitered in the bay, the closest of which was about four hundred yards from the CALICO QUEST while the other was about five hundred yards beyond its colleague. To counter the guard boats, each of which were crewed by six men, three youngsters had gathered deep inside the CALICO QUEST where the giant moonpool which measured 7.2-metres to a side was located. The vessel itself was under the autonomous control of its dynamic positioning system which would hold the vessel over an exact point on the seabed irrelevant of what the waves or tides chose to do. Two feet above the dark waters of the Mediterranean Sea, Noxa, Custos, and Necis stood on a steel walkway, checking their equipment. They were gearing up as combat swimmers and their job was to neutralise the two guard boats using both stealth and extreme prejudice.
Each wore a black and dark grey shorty wetsuit, with a diver's knife strapped to their left calves and waterproof throat mikes around their necks which led to a small shortrange transmitter mounted to a harness over their shoulders from where another short cable led to an earpiece in their left ears. All visible skin had been creatively covered with varying shades of blue and grey to aid their invisibility. Three experienced divers from the CALICO QUEST assisted the children with a dive belt on which hung a pair of black rubberised-aluminium pressurised cylinders each of which contained about twenty-five minutes of life-sustaining air. Each cylinder hung beside a thigh and would not interfere in their movements as they swam. An air hose ran between each cylinder and then up and over their left shoulders to a demand valve which they would hold in their mouths to breathe. Their feet were encased in rubber flippers and on their hands, they wore lightweight dive gauntlets with a dive computer attached to each left lower arm. Each was handed a loaded SIG Sauer MPX-K-SD suppressed sub-machinegun which would hang from a chest harness below them as they swam. As they stepped onto a dive lift which would lower them into the water, they pulled on black dive masks and then inserted their air regulators into their mouths. All three raised their right hands and formed an 'O' with their thumb and forefinger before they inverted their thumbs.
The lift operator lowered them into the water and just as the water reached their stomachs, each was handed a Yamaha 500Li Seascooter which would propel them through the water at around three knots.
..._...
After they had dropped down into the moonpool, they engaged the sea scooters which dutifully pulled them deeper into the sea until they broke out of the moonpool at a little over eight metres depth and stopped beneath the keel of the 9,300-ton vessel.
Noxa studied her dive computer which indicated which direction she needed to head in. She pointed with her right hand and once Custos and Necis had nodded, the trio took off at three knots, dragged through the water on a four-minute trip to the first guard boat. The three swimmers remained six feet below the surface of the Mediterranean the entire way before they slowed just a dozen yards from the guard boat. Together, they stopped beneath the guard boat which lolled in the waves above them. Custos pulled a magnet from his dive belt and he gently allowed it to latch onto the steel framework that formed the hull of the redundant fishing craft. To that magnet, they clipped the three dive scooters, before they stripped off their dive belt and dive tanks, clipping them to the same magnet. Then they removed their flippers and dive masks which were clipped to their dive belts. With a final breath of air from their tanks, the trio swam out from under the guard boat and they made for a small boarding ladder which hung over the portside amidships.
Noxa went first while Necis covered the girl with her submachinegun as she trod water. The guard boat was not too large, but just the right size to allow six men to have some semblance of comfort during their six-hour stints on duty. It was no secret around the bay what the two boats were, but they still purported to be fishing boats with nets strung up and around the vessels. Such was the reputation of Vito Genovese, the two guard boats had seen very little activity which had in turn dulled the senses – but only to a point; if they were caught goofing off, they knew they would be feeding the fishes before dawn. Noxa could smell the crew well before she could see them. Her sensitive nose smelt sweat and unwashed bodies which repulsed the youngster who washed twice a day. It was obvious that the men probably only washed twice a week at best. Amidships, there was a wooden deckhouse which housed the wheel and charthouse, as well as protecting the way down into the hull from the elements.
The flicker and snap of a lighter betrayed the location of the first crewman as he lit a cigarette which reeked almost as much as the man did. While the man might have died of cancer in twenty years, Noxa decided to speed up his death as she drew her dive knife and she moved around the deckhouse to come up behind the man. As she approached, she raised her right hand, knife inverted, and she plunged the blade deeply into the back of the man's neck, just where the backbone joined the skull. The vertebrae were severed, and the man seemed to fold up as his paralyzed body collapsed. The man tried to speak but no air came out as Noxa had applied a vicious twist to her blade, severing his windpipe. The man's life gurgled out and Noxa had moved on a full minute before the man had died.
Noxa squeezed the push-to-talk button on her throat mike and hissed out an update, "X-ray down."
Back aboard OCEAN VIGILANTE and CALEDONIA, a tally board was updated to show the progress of the complex mission, but no reply was sent to keep all communications to an absolute minimum as Vito was known to have sensitive electronic eavesdropping equipment as part of his defences. However, there was a lot of radio chatter that night due to the 'rescue' underway, much of which was encrypted as was the modern way, so a small extra signal might not be detected as anything untoward.
As Noxa moved towards the deckhouse, she was joined by her friends, weapons raised and scanning everything they could see. For Necis, it was a dream come true; she loved to dive, unlike many of her kind. Somehow, she and her immediate friends had taken to underwater combat. The Zetas had also excelled in stealth and as demonstrated by Rylee when Turner had died, an aptitude for emotionless killing. While the girl had not wanted to kill again; she found that she had a need for it, and London had confirmed that fact for her. Therefore, as she moved towards the bow where a second crewman was filling his lungs with nasty shit, she raised her weapon and slotted the unknown bastard neatly in the head, a substantial amount of the man's brains quite literally feeding the fishes.
"X-ray down."
There were no further crewmen on the upper deck, so all three proceeded below to find the remaining four members of the crew.
..._...
It took just two minutes for the three Zetas to return to the upper deck leaving two men dead in their bunks and two more dead at the table in the galley enjoying a coffee each.
"Target One complete," Noxa radioed as she and her friends slipped over the side of the guard boat to retrieve their dive gear.
Seven minutes later, they were repeating the events of earlier and securing their dive gear to the magnet attached to the second guard boat's hull. Noxa smiled at her friends who all smiled back as they swam to the boarding ladder...
"Fuck!" Noxa breathed as she found no boarding ladder.
Custos was prepared and he swiftly dived back underwater before he returned a few seconds later, a small folding grapnel with rubber-coated spikes and a short length of rope attached held in his left hand. The twelve-year-old boy trod water as he deployed the splines and threw the grapnel over the bulwark above their heads. The grapnel slid over the deck for a moment before two of the splines hooked onto something substantial. Custos heaved on the rope for a moment before he began to climb, hand over hand and then over the bulwark onto the deck. He rolled up onto his knees, his weapon raised, and he scanned the entire deck for any sign that he or his team had been spotted. Seeing no one, he triggered his throat mike twice to signal Noxa and Necis that it was safe to ascend the rope.
Noxa's nose wrinkled at the same stale smell of sweat, unwashed bodies, and tobacco, not to mention the pervading stench of rotten fish. She followed Custos as the boy moved aft towards the wooden deckhouse which was of a similar design and in approximately the same location to that of the first guard boat. It was expected, but for Custos, it was still a shock when he almost collided with a man emerging from the deckhouse. However, his training kicked in and with the distance being too close to make use of his submachinegun, the boy instead reached out and he seized a fishing knife from the man's belt and he took the blade across the man's throat before he plunged it deep into the man's heart, ripping the organ in two. The man found himself sagging to the deck, his blood-soaked hands clawing at his ripped throat, his brain trying to understand what had just occurred.
"Messy," Necis commented as she stepped over the almost-a-corpse.
"There's no pleasing you two, is there," Custos grumbled as he moved on.
Finding no one else on deck, the trio descended the wooden ladder into the bowels of the guard boat.
"Ho bisogno di un caffè," a voice said, and a man appeared in the narrow confines of the passageway.
Necis did not hesitate as she lashed out with her right fist, catching the man on the nose, but she may as well have just hit the steel framework of the boat. The man was large, and he filled the narrow passageway. However, his bulk prevented him from easily reaching for his pistol. The much slimmer Necis had no issues, however, as she went to town on the man. The sound of fighting had brought two of the man's colleagues out from the mess where they had been sitting but they had been unable to get past the large man to see what was going on, let alone intercede. Then Noxa found an arm wrapping around her throat from behind and she responded with a strike in the solar plexus from her left elbow. Her attacker grunted with pain and he punched the girl hard in the back, shoving her forward into Necis. The large man stepped forward, a nasty smile on his face as his massive hands reached for Necis' head. Custos was losing track of what was going on as the two girls fought four men. He was unable to get into the fight due to the severe lack of space down below. It was impossible to make use of his submachinegun as the girls were constantly in his line of fire as they used their high mobility to prevent themselves from being crushed by their opponents.
Necis eventually managed to draw her combat knife from its scabbard on her left calf and she stabbed the closest man, twisting the blade as she yanked it out. A bellow of agony deafened everyone as the man staggered backwards, his hands to his stomach. He cannoned into a colleague, both of them crashing down to the deck. It was the opening Custos had been looking for, and he gunned down both men. The pandemonium had brought the final man out of his bunk to see what all the ruckus was. He snapped off several rounds from his Beretta pistol, hitting little more than the woodwork. Necis ran at the gunman, dodging left and right, before she leapt upwards, pushed off from a tabletop and rammed her combat knife into the pistol-wielding man's neck. The force of her strike pulled the blade right through his neck and the body fell sans head.
"Merda!" one of the men exclaimed as the severed head rolled across the deck, blood spilling out.
The distraction was perfect and the final two men died with blades to their hearts. Custos and Necis turned to leave the scene of death but Noxa appeared frozen and she stared intently at the severed head.
"Oh, shit!" Custos breathed as he remembered the last time his friend had seen a severed head. "Move it, Noxa!"
"What!?" Noxa muttered as she remained focussed on the head.
"Let's go!" Custos ordered as he shoved the girl towards the ladder.
The trio raced up onto the deck and then slipped over the side into the water.
"Target Two complete," Custos radioed. "You okay, Noxa?"
"I'm good – sorry about that."
The three friends then dove down underwater to retrieve their dive equipment.
00:14 GMT+2 (22:14 GMT June 15th)
Strike Team Alpha
With the first task complete, the assault teams flew into action.
The two workboats and the two RHIBs raced forward carrying the seventeen-strong assault team. One of the workboats veered off to where Custos could be seen with his right fist raised high out of the water. Beside him, treading water were Noxa and Necis. They bobbed in the water in the lee of the second guard boat which conveniently concealed the workboat from the land. As soon as the workboat slowed, the three divers were hauled out of the water by their friends and colleagues.
"Well done!" Kick-Ass announced as he dumped a dripping Noxa on the deck. "Get changed."
The three youngsters stripped out of their equipment with the help of Stormtide, Foxtail, and Splinter, and then pulled off their wetsuits under which they were naked. Each received a towel to dry off with and then a holdall containing their kit. They swiftly dried off and pulled on their combat gear for fighting on land. By the time, they had changed and were ready for the next phase of the fight, the workboat had rejoined the other three vessels and the now twenty-strong assault force closed the beach for their Sicilian assault.
The twinkling lights of Scopello were spread out ahead of them with their ultimate target less than two kilometres back from them at the base of the hills.
A short while later...
00:34 GMT+2 (22:34 GMT June 15th)
NIGHTSHADE: Strike Team Bravo
The fourteen-tonne helicopter was heavily laden, what with twenty passengers and four crew, not to mention the four-tonne payload which dangled beneath the helicopter.
Inside the cockpit of the darkened helicopter, the two female pilots had their work cut out as they negotiated the mountains which guarded the rear of the Genovese home. The cockpit screens displayed a myriad items of information, all crucial to keeping the helicopter in the air. Goshawk had never felt so stressed as she combined watching the engine temperatures with looking out the cockpit windows to ensure that they did not fly into the side of the 912-metre Monte Speziale mountain to their left as they flew over the coastal village of Castelluzzo, . . . or for that matter the 1,110-metre Monte Sparagio peak which rose up directly ahead of them. Scorpion was not happy, but she was trained to fly in such conditions, but she knew that Goshawk had to have been silently shitting herself. The flight computers were having an electronic cow as they continuously complained about the obscenely dangerous flying which Scorpion was undertaking. The constant electronic warnings of 'Terrain! Terrain! Pull up! Pull up!' were getting on both pilots' nerves. It did not help that the nearby Palermo Falcone Borsellino Airport had suddenly realised that they had one too many blips on their radar and they were violating NIGHTSHADE every few minutes. For the moment, the fact that NIGHTSHADE was almost identical in silhouette (minus the weapon pylons) to the Merlin helicopters operated by the Italian Navy meant that they were merely on borrowed time.
One hundred and twenty metres above and a kilometre to the southwest of the Genovese home, and three kilometres inland, Scorpion brought NIGHTSHADE into the hover just twenty feet above a sandy patch amid some rocks, the mountain towering four hundred metres above them, two hundred metres to her left. Goshawk was very nervous as she read out the altitude and distance to the mountain – just one slip, and twenty-four people would die a fiery death. Aft of the cockpit, Chief was busy moving up and down the cabin, checking out every window. The partially open stern ramp allowed a stream of cool air into the stuffy aircraft. In seats along both sides of the cabin, twenty armed vigilantes sat strapped into their seats, ready for action. At a terse command from Scorpion, Chief raised two fingers on his gloved right hand.
"TWO MINUTES!" he bellowed, and he received twenty nods of acknowledgment as a red light illuminated above the side door.
Chief heaved open the starboard door and he lay down on the floor, looking downwards at the underslung load which dangled beneath the helicopter.
"Looks good, pilot!" Chief announced over the intercom.
Scorpion nodded at Goshawk who reached back to the rear of the centre console and she flipped up a switch to arm the electro-mechanical cargo hook release. She then stabbed a release button and the helicopter leapt upwards slightly as four-tonnes of weight was shed, making the helicopter instantly lighter. Scorpion shifted the helicopter a few metres to starboard before she regained the hover. Chief checked that the top end of the fast rope was secure before he then kicked out the rest of the rope to fall to the ground below, extending back up to the helicopter.
"BRAVO ONE! STAND UP!" Chief bellowed with his gloved hands showing them what to do.
Ten vigilantes released their safety belts and stood up, then checked their balance in the vibrating, pitching helicopter. The red light vanished to be replaced by a green light.
"GO! GO! GO!" Chief announced.
As Hit Girl stood beside Chief, Shadow went first. She grabbed the thick rope in her gauntleted hands, and she stepped out of the helicopter, descending very rapidly to the ground below – the very first to invade sovereign Italian territory. Shadow was rapidly followed by La Coccinelle, Rampart, Intrepid, Resolute, Arbiter, Psyche, Fury, and Harrier. Hit Girl dived out last.
"BRAVO TWO! STAND UP!" Chief bellowed with his gloved hands showing them what to do.
Ten more vigilantes stood up and they lined up ready to deploy, nervousness evident as it had been in the first team.
"GO! GO! GO!"
This time, it was Nemesis who stood to one side while Le Chat Noir, Termino, Wildcat, Rage, Hellcat, Tigercat, Polaris, La Terreaur, and Rigour dived out the door of the helicopter and rapid-roped to the ground below in just seconds.
The two teams spread out the moment they hit the ground, weapons raised and covering a full three-sixty around the landing zone as the helicopter gained altitude and then dipped its nose before it accelerated away with just the four crewmembers aboard – Chief and Surgeon pulled up the rapid rope and coiled the device up for future use.
A few minutes earlier...
On the coast
Strike Team Alpha
The four 'assault craft' had reached the quay after transiting the small fishing anchorage.
There was nobody around; the fishing boats were at sea somewhere, far to the north and west. The moment the boats had come alongside, the twenty members of the strike team had leapt ashore and headed inland. Their first stop off was in the carpark where they found a pair of fifteen-year-old Land Rover 130 Station Wagons. Both had been delivered, just that morning and parked up awaiting their arrival. The keys had been left under the driver's seats and the engines were soon running and the two teams had clambered aboard. The dark blue vehicles travelled with lights on, at least for the first kilometre, to assuage the concerns of any locals who might see them driving past. The strike teams were at a critical stage of the operation where they needed to make as much progress as possible before they were identified, and a counterattack was made. It was known that Vito had upwards of fifty men protecting his home, only a selection of whom would actually be on duty, or so they hoped.
It was essential that they were able to get close and hit hard, taking down as many of the defenders as possible before they began to take hits, whittling down their forty-member strike force.
00:42 GMT+2 (22:42 GMT June 15th)
Strike Team Bravo
The cargo carried beneath NIGHTSHADE had been unpacked to reveal an ex-British Army WMIK (Weapons Mounted Installation Kit) Land Rover equipped with a flatbed and a weapons mount for twin Maximi 7.62-millimetre lightweight belt-fed machine guns, each of which was fitted with a two-hundred round box of M13 disintegrating belt ammunition.
Alongside the WMIK which could transport six and provide heavy fire support, seven military-spec quad bikes sat ready for action. Everyone mounted up with Nemesis behind the wheel of the WMIK and Harrier beside her. Standing in the back at the twin Maximi machineguns was Intrepid. At her feet were Rage, Polaris, and Rigour. Astride the quads (in pairs) were Hit Girl & Hellcat, Shadow & Wildcat, La Coccinelle & La Terreaur, Le Chat Noir & Termino, Arbiter & Fury, Rampart and Tigercat, Resolute & Psyche.
The initial ride was very rough as they negotiated rocks in the pitch darkness with only the assistance of advanced NVGs to guide them. After a few hundred yards, they reached a farm track which allowed them to speed up as they moved in convoy with the WMIK in the lead, and Intrepid kept watch all around with the Maximi machineguns and her NVGs. As they entered a grove of vines, Nemesis and Hit Girl both took great care to negotiate the vines with their valuable fruit, squishing Vito's grapes where it was deemed to be both safe and satisfying to do so. Ultimately, they slowed as they came within visual sight of the Genovese stronghold.
"Oscar One, Bravo One and Bravo Two at position Yankee, over," Hit Girl radioed.
"Copy position Yankee, Oscar One out."
There were just minutes to go before all hell was to break out on Sicily.
A few minutes earlier...
Strike Team Alpha
The two Land Rover Station Wagons had made good time as they had been driving over flat tarmac at speed.
As they had approached the right turn which would take them up Via Bosco di Scopello and thence to the Genovese stronghold, they slowed and came to a halt a hundred yards back from the junction with their lights extinguished. Tao Wu and Tao Tei dived out of one of the Land Rovers and the two girls raced along the grass verge in total silence, their lightweight desert boots making next to no sound. Not that that was a problem as they approached their two targets who were supposed to be on guard duty at the foot of the road leading up to their boss' house. The two men lounged around beside an armoured Range Rover, and with their backs turned to the approaching girls, their death was sealed.
The two girls struck in unison, leaping into the air at the very last moment and dragging the men to the ground where each was stabbed in the throat and the heart by a razor-sharp Tanto blade which tore apart their windpipe, backbone, and heart. Both men died without the slightest idea of what had ended their lives. Needless to say, their deaths were the very first of many to follow.
Tao Wu clicked her throat microphone twice and the Land Rovers soon appeared to collect them, both girls jumping aboard without the vehicles stopping as they drove past.
That same time...
Casa Genovese
00:58 GMT+2 (22:58 GMT June 15th)
Emilio Fanelli was the head of security for the Genovese household and he was not happy with the unfolding situation that night.
His boss received many death threats on a daily basis as well as issuing quite a few of his own. Therefore, there were potentially hundreds of people and organisations who would take great joy in causing the family harm. However, many held back as the potential ramifications of attempting or causing the death of a member of the family were impossible to quantify. Indeed, Fanelli had enjoyed making examples of some who had unsuccessfully threatened the Genovese family – they had died horribly. As such, the man took the security of the Genovese family very seriously.
The multiple helicopter overflights had been a contention for the man, but his source in the Guardia Costiera had confirmed that the helicopter flights were indeed genuine, but Fanelli's suspicious mind was not happy and his stomach was churning. He grabbed a small handheld encrypted radio from his belt and pressed the transmit key.
"Controllo inferiore, segnala!"
Fanelli frowned at the radio as he heard nothing but static.
"Controllo inferiore, segnala!"
He swore under his breath as he pressed the transmit key again.
"Confine, segnala!"
At first there was nothing, but then he heard a strange female voice.
"Ciao da Chicago, fica!"
"Fanculo!" Fanelli exclaimed as a chill raced up his backbone and he shouted at the closest guard. "Suona l'allarme!"
The man realised it was too late even as the sound of several loud crumps and machinegun fire could be heard coming from outside.