Chapter 13- Double Dimitri I

Setting the Trap

Bentley left the snug little vine safe house to set the bombs. These would serve as enough of a distraction for Murray to pass the premises relatively unmolested. The rest of the gang stayed behind to prep themselves for their own jobs.

Murray had been using two large branches as dumbbells; Sly had been crawling under the thick vines of a tree and spooking Murray or Penelope when given the chance. He was very good at fitting into little spaces and popping out at you. Penelope was tweaking the car to go as fast as possible, cleaning her goggles, and so on.

It had been quite difficult for Bentley to traverse the mossy, muddy terrain at first. After getting his wheels stuck in a large patch of mud for the fifth time, he stuck to flying. Bentley rocketed up to some branches and observed his surroundings. There was a guard coming up now. He figured he could do with some practice. Bentley aimed with his binocucom at the guard's thick neck. One clean shot was all he needed. He fired. Instead of the guard flopping over, however, Bentley simply heard a little hiss of air. The guard continued his rounds, unaware that anyone had been planning to use him as target practice. Damn! Bentley, you foolish thing you! I forgot to load the darts!

He dug around a little compartment where he kept spare bombs and darts. He found one and aimed again. This time the sleek dart went flying right into the man's neck. He was out cold instantly and fell over drunkenly into a bush. Bentley used his PPP (Pick Pocketing Pole) to pull the guard behind a large tree.

"So far so good," he muttered to himself.

Bentley continued flying for tree to tree, using as much cover as possible. He decided to hide from the remainder of the guards. There was really no need to take down the fortress himself is what he reasoned. He finally got to the southwestern corner of the structure. The idea was to get the guards as far away from the north gates, and in extension Murray, as possible.

He grabbed one of the little camo satchels he had made at the safe house from the back of his wheel chair. After checking for guards, he glided down to the mossy corner. He ripped apart some of the bushes and vines and placed his package underneath it all. On the back, he punched in the "ready" command for the bomb. He covered the bomb in some vines, grass, leaves, and flew back up to his tree.

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Barkley was in no mood. Carmelita had gone AWOL; Cooper was as well, but oh, that's right! He was still a criminal! Calligan was off gallivanting around after him with half the damn force and even Mavis had gone missing yesterday! So much for a relaxing cruise.

He was up to his chin in paperwork. The secretary-general himself was on his case. This is what they called a clusterfu- well, never mind that. He hadn't seen the light of day for two days, making phone calls, signing sheets, and writing reports. Phillips, one of the interns for his secretary Linda had been bringing him coffee every two hours. He had even had an energy drink. The one time he left the building was to have a cigar, and that was in the dark of night.

Gladys was obviously not pleased.

"You let your dinner get cold," she had said over the phone. It was with a playful tune, since he had done this so much already. She had apparently not heard about the insane cruise. All she knew was that he was coming home. Well, that was what she thought.

"And there will be more of that to come. Listen, I can't leave my office or the Big Boss will have my head on a silver platter."

"Big Boss? Mr. Interpol Head is on your case, huh?"

"Yes he is and unless I do all this paperwork, he'll have me locked up for life on a driving without a license charge." She laughed.

"He's that high up, is he? Well, have fun over there, darling. Say good night to your children." She then passed the phone around To Marsha, Patrick, and Ricky for their own customized good nights. Marsha's was "be good or the Boogeyman will take your Barbie dolls." He improvised with Patrick, who had just lost a tooth. "Be good or the Tooth Fairy will skip you on her Tooth List." Moreover, Ricky got a "goodnight son", for there was not much you could threaten a 16 year old with. Be good or the Rap Monster will take your Rock and pump its own brand of rhyming tunes into your head. Barkley wasn't much of a rap person. Or a rock person, for that matter. He continued his paperwork and hoped that everything would settle down soon.

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Bentley found his next corner. He zoomed over to it and started reaching for his next satchel.

"Freeze."

Freeze he did. There was a cold barrel sticking into the side of his head. Bentley managed to catch a green blur using his peripherals. Sneaky son of a gun was using camo. I guess the gang failed to catch these people. Bentley put his hands up, as was customary with people being threatened at gunpoint. "You and your little gang think you're real clever, huh? We had you since Brasilia! You really mustn't underestimate your enemy like that, you stupid little thing." Bentley lowered his hands defiantly.

"I couldn't agree more," he grunted before boosting up and delivering a swift wheelchair spin. The man fired off some shots and fell over from the unexpectedness of the blow. Bentley wasn't hit as far he could tell; he must have missed. The man was on his side and lifting his weapon for another go.

Bentley examined this man. He was definitely professional. The camo suit wasn't bought at some army surplus store like the mercenaries. It had been tailored to fit him perfectly and made with some kind of Kevlar material. The weapon was a kind of sub-machine gun with a green scope. It was camo'd as well. The man held the gun in a special ops trained way. In addition, when Bentley had flown up and whacked him, a man of lesser training would have shot desperately. This man shot few and precise shots. He saved his ammunition. One more clue he had was that the man had pressed the gun to his temple. Clipping him with a single bullet there would kill him for good. Many would simply stick their gun in the side of someone's head. Although this guaranteed results as well, the temple was the way to go.

Bentley could make these observations in a split second.

The man raised his weapon again so Bentley rushed him. He needed to make quick work of him, he knew. He sent another successful spin to the man's gun this time. It went flying and snagged in a bush. The man tried swinging at Bentley, but he simply flew up and landed on him, making sure his booster jet engine was in the man's face.

"You better not give me any reasons to jump," he sneered. Another enemy downed he thought triumphantly. The man gave him an evil smile. It changed to a growl in a split second and the man pushed Bentley off. Bentley activated the boosters with great remorse. He wasn't a murderer. Well, he was in luck.

The engine burped out a little membrane of flame that barely carried him two meters. Puzzled and slightly alarmed, Bentley checked his wheelchair. He soon saw that there was no need. The man had in his hand a knife, slick with oil to the hilt. His chest was also shiny and black. Bentley saw his wheelchair squirting out more fuel by the second. Uh-oh. The man ran at him with his knife threateningly raised. Bentley tried wheeling backwards but ended up getting his right wheel stuck in the mud. He desperately reached for anything that crossed his fumbling fingers in the compartment area of his armrest. His fist closed around a little ball of sorts. He hurled it at the man's face just as he jumped up to plunge the knife into Bentley's neck.

The man screamed and grabbed his face. The little ball was fastened tight. Suddenly Bentley remembered what the ball was. His grapple cam! The little spikes it used to hold on to things were deep in the man's face. Bentley pressed a button to bring his binocucom out and shot the grapple cam to a nearby tree. The man got up holding his face, blood dripping between his fingers.

"Sorry," Bentley mumbled (he really was) as he shot the man with a well-placed blaster shot to the chest. The man hit the wall and fell unconscious. Grapple cam still hot from firing the shot, Bentley put it back in his armrest compartment. "Now to finish setting these bombs."

A/N There, Bentley's first official mission. Yes, these mission chapters are intended to be short. Next, Sly's mission! Read on!