Young Offender, Part 65:
"Welcome home. Did you have a nice vacation? I thought you were coming right home. Where have you guys been? How was Fiji?" Gilmore barraged the four cyborgs with questions the minute they entered the Sicilian villa's front door.
"It was wonderful. We took a side trip to Australia," Albert said, setting his and Francoise's suitcases on the floor.
"Thanks, Albert," Francoise said, placing her purse on top of her suitcase. "Fiji has to be the most perfect place I've been. Gorgeous. Australia was wonderful, too. We did a lot of surfing and horseback riding."
"Except for the flight delays, everything went well," Ivan griped, shooting Albert a somber look.
Albert shook his head and lofted his right hand. "Airports are becoming more irritating now a-days. We'll have to figure something out. It certainly wasn't such a bother twenty years ago."
Jet tossed his suitcase aside and flopped down on a red velvet settee, ill-constructed for someone as tall as him. "Yeah, well... we chartered a plane and I flew it. No problems. We really should invest in a plane."
"Not a bad thought," Gilmore mused and started pacing a little.
"So what's shaking?" Jet asked.
Gilmore shook off whatever was on his mind and clasped his hands together. "Dressler visited a couple of weeks ago with some interesting information. Come have some lunch, and I'll tell you."
After the four cyborgs were seated at the kitchen table, Gilmore served them soup and pasta. Albert asked, "So what is Herr Doktor up to?"
"He hasn't sold us out?" Jet asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, but a little under a year ago the Black Ghost asked him to go to London and preform a surgery. It was for a child, and the surgery saved her life, which made him happy. He just a had a bad feeling about the situation. He had to bribe the hospital and it seemed shady."
"Why would the Black Ghost care about one child?" Ivan asked.
"That's what Dressler asked, but they told him it wasn't his business. He left well enough alone, feeling as if he was doing a good deed. I just want you to check it out. I wrote down all of Dressler's details so you should be able to track down the child."
"Sounds like a good idea, Doctor," Albert said. "We'll head out first thing in the morning."
Francoise walked through the park, glancing around at the mothers and children on a pleasant Saturday morning. She was taken aback by the melancholy edging itself into her awareness. The memory of Albert telling her about the Black Ghost making her childless on Kozumi's deck caused a pang in her chest. She took a deep breath and pushed away her sorrow when she heard a woman call out the name "Rose!"
She turned to see lady with short, chestnut hair and a girl with bright red hair. The girl was chasing after a ball and her mother looked extremely worried. The girl caught up with the ball and jumped around with the prize. "See, Mum! I'm fine."
"Get back over here and have a little rest," her mother insisted, patting the bench she was sitting on. The girl shook her head and started tossing the ball back and forth with another girl.
Francoise walked over to the woman and asked in English, "May I sit here?
"Oh, of course," the lady replied with a smile.
"You're daughter is very pretty," Francoise complimented the woman.
"Thank you. I'm very fortunate to have her," the lady said. "My name is Sophie Meriwether, by the way."
"I'm Francoise." The names matched Dressler's information.
"Are you new to the area? I can hear you're French."
"Yes, I'm only here for a little while. So, you said you were lucky to have your daughter? Rose is a lovely name that's not so common any more."
Sophie's eyes narrowed and her expression grew dark. "Her father gave it to her."
"Forgive me, if I said something wrong," Francoise said, not missing the bitter tone.
"Oh my, I didn't mean to sound so dreadful. It's just that her father hasn't been reliable."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"He disappeared about a year ago. I'm sure he ran off with one of his harlots. Good riddance. I didn't want him around Rose, anyway, because of all his drinking."
"That's tragic. I lost my parents in a train accident when I was twelve. It would have been worse if my brother wouldn't have been able to support me," Francoise said, feeling a wave of sympathy for the mother and daughter.
"The positive is that she's gradually recovered from a heart condition. The doctors thought she'd be gone by now, but her recovery has been miraculous. No one knows why, but I'm grateful every day. GB may have left me, but I'll always have my Rose. It was the only good think he left behind. Oh... you didn't come to hear me complain about my ex-boyfriend."
"It sounds like you've been too busy with Rose to talk about your feelings. It's quite okay. I don't mind listening," Francoise said, giving her a sympathetic smile.
"Well, I hope you're luckier in love than me. Is that your husband? The man over there staring at you? He's a very handsome man." Francoise looked over to see Albert was wearing his overcoat, jager hat, and gloves, which Francoise knew would seemed out of place on such a warm day.
"No, just a very close friend," Francoise said, picking up her purse. She stood and held out her hand to shake Sophie's. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I'll pray you and your daughter have a bright future. Please take care."
She swirled around and jogged over to Albert. He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and lead her down the London sidewalk. "So?" he asked her.
Francoise shook her head. "There was no reason they helped the girl."
"What about the girl's father? Could he be a Merchant?"
"I don't think that at all. He seems as if he was a marginal person at best. The girl's mother told me he ran off, probably with another woman."
"So nothing?"
"Nothing. It does seem bizarre," Francoise said. They walked in silence a little longer. "Albert?"
"Yes?"
"You've seemed to have peace in your life. I'm not as settled as you. I wonder how you came to peace without the family you were planning on. It would seem you have it worse then Jet or me, but you seemed to have adapted better than us over the years."
Albert's expression grew thoughtful. "Is there something specific on your mind?"
"Didn't you say you wanted children once?"
"I did. Hilda and I were trying. That opportunity is closed off to me now. I know I sometimes spend time in the past, but take it from me, live for the day. Take what's in front of you and make the most of it. In a way, the Black Ghost cursed us horribly, but look at what we can do with that curse. We can turn it into a blessing and save people. Our superhuman strength and advantages gives us a unique opportunity to fight against people who would bring war or enslave countries."
Francoise felt her vision blur so she looked down at her shoes. Albert suddenly halted and patted her hand resting in the crook of his arm. He said, "But that's not quite a comfort to a young woman who was looking forward to having a life and a normal family."
"Sometimes, no," she admitted. She glanced up at him. He smiled gently at her and put his arm over her shoulders.
"I wish I could solve your problem, but I all I can do listen." He continued to lead her down the block.
She smiled up at him in spite of the tears that were threatening. "That's more than enough right now."
A car pulled up to the edge of the sidewalk. A flurry of car horns blared. Jet rolled down the window of the rental car and held up his middle finger to the passing motorists. "Screw you! Drive on the right side of the road, you asses!"
Albert's head flopped forward. "You know, sometimes being single is a blessing."
"Albert!" Francoise's eyes widen, but then she snickered when Jet laid on the horn and flipped off more passing, honking traffic. After twenty years, she was immune to Jet's coarse behavior. "Did I mention how happy I was for you to have such a charming companion?"
Albert shot her a mock glare as they walked over to the car. "And he wonders why New Yorkers get a bad reputation around the world."
She got into the back, and Albert forced Jet to give up his driving duties. Jet lit a cigarette and snarled, "Do we have a lead?"
"Nope," Albert answered, pulling out smoothly into traffic. "There is something there, but Francoise didn't find anything out of the ordinary. The girl's father disappeared, but he was disreputable."
"Enough of these dead ends. Let's find something to go after." Jet flicked his cigarette out of the open window, but before Francoise could chastise him, Albert held up his right, gloved hand.
"Let's get home to Ivan. He'll have some thoughts on our next move."
"Your first solo mission will be to guard this aircraft," Scar announced to the second generation cyborgs standing before him in the hanger bay. Pyunma glanced over at the unnamed craft he'd been trained to fly over the last few weeks. "008 will fly it to the small base just north of Moscow. The Soviets were the highest bidders in this one. They United States has been overbearing in their hostility towards the Soviet Union. This will level the playing field for them." Scar handed Pyunma a packet with the flight information.
He nodded, confident in his recent flight training. "All of us are to go?"
"Yes. Even Ann Ember. From now on, you'll be guarding our supply lines. I want your team to conceal themselves each time you do these missions. Each time, treat it as an opportunity to
capture the first generation cyborgs. One day soon, they'll strike."
"Forgive me, sir, but are you sure they'll strike so soon?" GB asked, with deference towards Scar.
The eerie black mask turned towards GB. Pyunma was nervous for a moment that GB was about to be castigated, however, Scar was in an uncharacteristically generous mood. "We're resuming operations, but keeping your existence a secret. They'll get too tempted by the idea of instant wealth. They'll still think we haven't matched weapons to combat them effectively."
"Forgive me, yet again, sir, but even if they were to steal this aircraft, where would they sell it? It's too extravagant just to be sold outright."
Pyunma's teeth gritted together; he wanted to give GB a sharp elbow to his side. He noticed Scar's leather clad fist slowly clench. Pyunma was surprised when Scar answered, "They'll sell it to the Americans in hopes they'll strike at the Soviets. They want war and chaos so they can gain power. Any more questions?" Scar's frosty tone silenced GB.
"So we deliver the plane to this isolated base north of Moscow. 005 will monitor the communications. 007 and 006 will hide in the cargo bay, ready to pounce if the first generation cyborgs hijack us mid flight," Pyunma said.
"If you are able to deliver it with no first generation cyborgs showing up, take a small charter plane to Moscow and come back to Ghost Island with the money the Soviets give you. That's if you don't have the first generation cyborgs show up. If they do show up, subdue them and radio us immediately. They are your top priority. We'll pick them up personally. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. We'll finish making plans in the war room and leave next week. That should give enough time to get the attention of the first generation. The Soviets are bound to brag about it in an attempt to cow the United States," Pyunma said crisply and waved for the others to follow.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Ann was following them from a distance. He shook his head, not wishing to have a female along if fighting broke out. Scar was adamant, though. Until 001 was captured, she would be their shadow.
"This may be of interest to us," Ivan said, laying a newspaper beside Albert's bowl of oatmeal. Ivan sat across the table from him, a gloating smile firmly set. "We can do some real damage if we steal it and we can see how far they are getting technology-wise."
Albert put on his reading glasses and looked at the picture of an advanced aircraft on the front page of Pravda. "What does it say?"
"It's about a company giving this aircraft to the Soviets; it's paying cosmonauts a large sum of money to put it through rigorous testing. I know this company had some Black Ghost ties, so I think we should take it, or at least sabotage it. The United States is agitated over this and will want their own." Ivan then slid a copy the New York times over with the same story, only from the American perspective. "It could escalate the Cold War into something really horrible."
"Agreed, but this is an ambitious task. It's not as simple as breaking and entering a factory," Albert said. He glanced around the empty kitchen, glad it was just him and Ivan in this discussion. "Why do you want to go after such a risky target?"
"Haven't you noticed? The Merchants of Death have been very quiet about what they've been doing over the last year. I want to know why. Also, all the high level Black Ghost affiliated scientists have withdrawn to Ghost Island. No more lecture circuits, open research, or university positions. Why? Something's not right, lately. And now, they're blatantly trying to help provoke the United States into war against the Soviet Union. To openly sell an aircraft like this is such a provocative move for the Black Ghost. They may have gathered more strength than I've anticipated. We must find out."
"The Soviets could have said no to the Black Ghost, and that's an issue for another day," Albert said, looking at Ivan over the top of his glasses. "I do agree, we should do something to stop this. It is big, but I'm not so sure this isn't some elaborate trick. I'm sure Jet will go along with us, but Francoise may be worried about the scope of the project."
"What project?" Francoise asked, coming in with a stifled yawn as she ambled over to the pot of hot oatmeal on the stove.
"We're going to steal this," Ivan said, taking the newspaper from Albert and held up the picture to Francoise.
She inhaled deeply and shook her head. "That seems very risky."
"It'll keep the Soviets and the United States from going into a full blown war," Albert explained. "Still, how to steal it?"
"I have that figured out. I already know the only place they'll have it delivered. It's near Moscow. Erika used to take me there on assignments when I was child. I can teleport us there. We'll subdue the soldiers, and then Jet can fly us home in it. Dr. Gilmore approved of this when I asked him last night. He's afraid of how advanced their technology has gotten, so he does want a good look at it."
Francoise sat at the table and said with a lot of trepidation, "We've been lucky over the years. It seems like this is pressing our luck."
"How are we to prepare for the Black Ghost if we don't know what's coming? We need to hit them early, now that it seems they're ramping up production again," Ivan insisted, rubbing furiously at his brown, left eye. The white around the iris had long since remained bloodshot, but Ivan refused to let any of the doctors near him since his last surgery.
"We should look into it," Albert encouraged.
She sighed and nodded. "When do we leave?"
"In two days," Ivan answered.
To be continued.