Saturday, May 19th, 2018

Northern Scotland

The boy was in a lot of pain and he was dazed, suffering from intense confusion, unsure of what was happening to him.

As he lay on the muddied furrows, his mind struggling to process so many emotions, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut as a dazzling beam was shone into them from close range. Then he heard chatter in the same warped electronically synthesised voices which he had heard at the farmhouse. He had no idea who they were, but they had invaded his home. Not that it had been much of a home; more of a secure facility where he was kept as a pet for that bastard. He was used from time to time as a weapon and rewarded with food and time to himself. Time which he spent reading and trying to figure out his life. Why had he not escaped? He knew he was working for bad people, but he was comfortable, and he never hurt innocent people – only those who deserved to be hurt. He was treated fairly well – better than he had hoped. It had been drilled into him that if he ran away the British Government would find him and kill him. He had been told that the government were trying to cover up Urban Predator and kill off every Predator. He had no reason not to believe them considering the facts.

He found himself hauled to his feet by armoured gauntlets. They had to be Vengeance or some similar offshoot, he figured. But why had they turned up on his doorstep? He had been scared that they were after him, so he had run. That had turned out to be a bad idea and he had paid for it by being shot in the thigh which hurt like hell. The kick to the face had not been pleasant either and he figured that would be somewhat painful for a while. Then, as he was all but carried towards the beach path, he became concerned. That had been his escape route where he would have headed down the coast to perceived safety. Fear was beginning to edge into his consciousness along with a host of questions. What was going to happen to him? Was he going to die? Maybe not as if they wanted him dead, they would have put a bullet into his head instead of his thigh. Were they going to torture him? He feared torture above all else, but he had been taught how to resist but knowing what might happen scared him. Then things began to move very fast as he heard the unmistakeable roar of rotor blades, and he then felt rather than saw the helicopter as it touched down a dozen yards away. He felt himself almost thrown aboard and pinned to the floor where he was wedged in with what felt like packs of equipment – probably the papers and items he had seen the masked, armour-clad individuals stuffing into said packs.

As he lay on the floor of the helicopter, he felt his wrists being secured with rigid handcuffs and he was blindfolded.

The following morning...
Sunday, May 20th

RAF Lossiemouth

He had no idea where he was but as he opened his eyes, he found himself in a plain room that screamed 'hospital'.

Then it came back to him – he had been shot; he could feel a dull throbbing in his left thigh and then he remembered the kick and he reached up to the left side of his face which felt really sore and was a little puffy. He looked around at the bare room and saw a large window with plain blue curtains. It looked like he was at an airport – he could see what had to be a tall grey-painted vertical stabiliser in the distance, and he could hear jet engines. Then his eyes clocked that he was not alone.

Sitting in a chair in the corner of the room to the left of the window was a young girl with dark brown hair tied up in a loose ponytail. Her dark brown eyes sparkled with life and were surprisingly familiar as was the obnoxious smirk. It took a moment for the name to drop: Harper!

"Hello, Hudson."

"Hello, Harper."

"Long time, no see."

"You look good, Harper."

"So do you."

"Should I just leave you two to fuck?" a voice said from the open door.

"Wow!" Hudson said. "You are the last bloody person I was expecting to see – alive."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Hudson," Rylee scowled.

"He has a point," Tanya pointed out. "You do go out of your way to try and get yourself killed."

"I do not!"

"Let's not argue," another voice suggested.

"Simon!"

"Hello."

"You keeping our illustrious ego, sorry, I meant leader, under control?"

"Trying to..."

They all laughed at Rylee's expense before Hudson frowned at the small group of his friends whom he had not laid eyes on for over a year. Simon understood the expression for what it was.

"You are the last Zeta to be recovered, Hudson."

The boy appeared stunned at the news.

"There are more of us alive?"

"Lin, Xiāngxìn, and Owen are all alive. The girls live in the United States while Owen lives in Paris," Simon informed Hudson.

"Are many of our kind...?"

"You make sixty-three," Simon stated.

"Bloody hell!"

"It would have been more, but we lost four just last year, and some more the year before that."

"We lead a dangerous life, I suppose. Speaking of which..."

"You are lucky, Hudson," Rylee said. "You were found by us."

"That's lucky?" Hudson grinned.

"There are people out there who want to use us for their own schemes and our kind has been susceptible to recruitment under the belief that we have nothing else to offer," Tanya said. "We have also been made to suffer. I lost my memory and was hunted by agents of the Central Intelligence Agency, but I was rescued. Harper was tortured really badly last year by a former instructor. Rylee went nuts and killed some men in Tesco – but we think that was just because she's Rylee."

Hudson laughed at that while Rylee just grinned sheepishly.

"We all have lives, now," Tanya continued. "I've found my mum – just a couple months back. Rylee has her mum, too. Simon lives with Rylee – no, they haven't started fucking yet. Lin and Xiāngxìn have a family, as has Owen. Harper lives with her sister and a girl who's as fucked up as Harper."

"I'll give you that one," Harper agreed.

"What will happen to me?"

"We'll find you a home," Harper confirmed.

"I might have an idea," Rylee said.

"With...?" Tanya asked with an approving tone.

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"I think so."

Hudson could remember how infuriating Tanya and Rylee were in the past, but he was pleased to no longer be alone.

Later that morning...

Hudson was finding himself very popular all of a sudden – not that he was complaining.

He was surrounded by girls.

He liked girls; but not girls like Harper who was nice, but she was just a scratty tomboy and he liked his girls older. A new girl appeared whom he did not recognise, and she seemed a little apprehensive which Hudson took as being in awe of himself.

"This is Diana," Harper introduced.

"Hudson."

"You okay?" Diana asked.

"I dunno."

"Well, I do. I'm Doctor Schneider. Diana, you're in the wrong... oh, never mind! Girls, out!"

There was lots of mutterings at the order, but they all complied without question – Hudson had no idea that a young woman by the name of Cassie was brandishing a Taser out of view. Over the next twenty or so minutes, Hudson was prodded and poked by the doctor who also listened to his heart and lungs with a stethoscope the man wore hanging from his neck. There was quite a bit of pain when the doctor examined the bullet wound and changed the dressing.

"You'll live – for now. Knowing your type as I do, I will not guarantee a long life free of injury."

"Type?"

"A Predator. I know you have the dagger tattoo, and I know that you are friends with that screwball, Harper – married her sister, you know. I also know that a simple bullet wound like yours does little to slow your type down. Harper was shot by Rylee and Harper is still going strong."

"You know about that?"

"Yes, I do."

"I also know all about that tattoo on your left wrist and what it means to you all."

"Joining Rylee saved my life. Her training kept me alive and helped me so much when Toulouse fell..."

The boy went quiet for a few moments as Blake finished his checks.

"I've been trying to figure out the last dozen hours or so and I think I deserve some answers. The meds are making my mind fuzzy but bear with me. First people wearing body armour break into a farmhouse in the actual middle of nowhere on some sort of intel gathering op. I am assuming a blacker than sin, black op. The body armour, the weapons, and the black helicopter all scream Vengeance. Then I find myself at an airfield; RAF Lossiemouth? Only a Vengeance op would have me at a military facility to be treated which brings me onto my first conundrum: why am I alive? Vengeance are known for their ruthlessness, so why did they shoot me in the leg instead of the head? Obviously, they want me alive, but why? Are Predators a part of Vengeance? Is Vengeance harvesting Predators to fight for them? Are you a member of Vengeance, Commander?"

Blake grinned at the boy. "Rylee said you were intelligent – but gobby."

"That's the second conundrum: I end up in hospital and then all my best friends suddenly appear – what the fuck is with that? I can't see Rylee allowing herself to be pressganged into anything – ever!"

Blake sighed. "Have some lunch and then I think we'll have a debrief, right?"

Hudson Vaughan nodded.

That afternoon...

Hudson joined his friends in a large lecture theatre which had been secured against unauthorised entry.

It took several minutes to encourage everyone to take their seats and take notice of the briefing.

"Right," a woman Hudson had not met before said as she waved everyone to silence. "Let's start with a video carefully selected from Rylee's greatest hits..."

"Let's not," Rylee groaned; she hated...

"The Tesco Event!"

Hudson sat uncharacteristically speechless as he watched the high-definition security footage which the scowling Rylee noticed had been professionally spliced together from various security cameras unlike the previously seen video from a single security camera. Scenes showed Rylee clocking the criminally minded individuals and then gathering 'supplies' before she went full on 'Hit Girl' with a rope dart.

"That was how Rylee Clarkson introduced herself to the world," Keira announced. "My name is Keira, Hudson, and for my sins, I am Harper's big sister."

"My commiserations," Hudson grinned as Harper scowled back. "Rylee, you never do anything by halves do you?"

Rylee simply shrugged.

"It was the start of a mixed week or so," Harper grinned. "First came a high when Blake rescued Simon from an orphanage. Then things went a little creepy when Rylee showed Simon her boobs and ewww! The next day was a major low for Rylee; she shot a '49' and was beaten on a quad by her mother!"

Hudson looked over at Rylee and he blinked a few times as he absorbed that information.

"You shot a '49', Ry? Fuck me; you're losing it, girl! Damn, you must have been insufferable."

"She was," Simon confirmed with a grin.

"Fuck you, Hudson! Fuck you, Simon! And fuck you, Harper!" Rylee stated as everybody started laughing. "In fact, fuck you all!"

"Hudson, my name is Cassie and for my sins, I am now the mother of Naomi and Kaitlin..."

Hudson looked around and spied the shortest person there, who also looked guilty for some reason, and he grinned as he remembered the girl and why he remembered her.

"Is she still destroying...?"

"Yep!" Naomi announced.

"Bad?"

"Yep! Police car – totally trashed!"

Hudson laughed loudly. "Keep it up, Kaitlin!"

"I'll do my best," Kaitlin replied happily.

"Don't encourage her, please, Hudson," Cassie said pointedly. "And while we're at it, young man, we know how your rancid brains function and that it takes more than words to contain your kind, so..."

Hudson scowled at the sight of a bright yellow Taser X3 held in Cassie's right hand. Hudson noticed a few other scowls indicating that Cassie was not kidding.

"I accept that, and I'm sure you don't use the Taser out of fun," Hudson replied.

"Sometimes it's fun," Cassie admitted. "I think Harper enjoys it."

"We all have our vices," Harper suggested with a shrug of her shoulders to general laughter.

Hudson turned serious.

"You guys work for Vengeance, voluntarily?"

Nobody said a word.

"Look, I won't breathe a word of your secret to anyone – I swear on my life as a Zeta."

Simon, Rylee, Tanya, and Harper exchanged glances – it was as close to a guarantee as it would ever get. They had once trusted Hudson with their lives and he them. The tattoo they each bore joined them together and acted as a guarantee. Rylee looked up at Cassie who strode over to Hudson, and she looked directly into the boy's eyes.

"What do you see in my eyes, boy?" she asked coldly.

Predators were no strangers to death, and they knew the difference between the eyes of an innocent child or adult and one who had taken a life, tearing apart their soul as a result. Hudson looked deep into the eyes of Cassie and saw darkness; enough darkness to scare the boy.

"You know about Vengeance, do you?" she asked. "Who do you most fear meeting?"

"That's easy," Hudson said. "Crimson and Drift may lead Vengeance, but Nemesis is the coldest killer, and I've heard the hardest gangsters admit to avoiding her like the plague. I fear Nemesis."

"Rylee," Cassie said. "Tell Hudson who in this room is Nemesis."

Rylee grinned fiendishly. "That would be you, Cassie."

Hudson actually found himself stepping back from Cassie.

"You risk myself or my team, I will tear you apart," Cassie/Nemesis growled.

"And I'll kill you, Hudson," Simon said for the record, knowing that Hudson knew Simon would too.

"Now that is over," Blake growled. "Hudson every person here is a volunteer. A Predator is a fragile child..."

Blake was cut off by loud voices announcing their unhappiness with the use of 'fragile child', but the voices stopped as Keira raised her Taser in the air.

"As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," Blake continued. "As you saw with Rylee, we have discovered that a Predator cannot undo what they are and they need to, I don't know, smash up a police car or kill some robbers. An outlet is required, and Vengeance provides a controlled outlet. Nobody is forced to be involved, and I know that many hate it every time they kill but they know they have no choice. However, of those around you, not all are Predators. Olivia, Christopher, Jeremy, and Jessica were just normal children, but events overtook them, and they are now fully fledged members of Vengeance with notches on their belts, so to speak. Olivia is probably more Predator than some of you Predators to be brutally honest."

There was laughter as Olivia grinned happily.

"Then we have three more members who are most definitely not normal but have their own reasons for fighting. We have Amber, Diana, and..."

"Bloody hell!" Hudson exclaimed as a familiar teenaged face appeared from amongst those in the lecture theatre. "She's..."

"A nutcase?" Olivia grinned. "Yes, Mary is a nutcase, and yes, her grandmother lives in Buckingham Palace – just don't go shouting it around, now."

"Who shot me and who did I shoot?"

A girl about a year older than himself stood up and walked...; no, she moved with a strange gait as she approached Hudson. "I shot you; I could see you were just a boy, so I shot you in the thigh instead of the head."

"Thanks, I suppose," Hudson replied as he saw the apologetic expression on the girl's face. "So, who did I shoot?" Then Hudson saw the angry looks as Harper and Rylee turned on him and he uttered the classic John Wick understatement of the century which spoke volumes: "Oh."

Neither girl said a word and Hudson could only see pain in his immediate future.

The next day...
Monday, May 21st

Britannia Royal Naval College
Dartmouth, United Kingdom

It was the start of the rest of her life – at least eighteen-year-old Kate Montgomery hoped it would be – and it was her dream.

She found herself that morning standing at ease on the parade ground of Britannia Royal Naval College, Dartmouth. She was one of eighteen in her division – Shackleton – of which there were six divisions in total. It had been her dream for so many months, and it had finally come true. Ahead of her were fourteen difficult weeks of intensive militarisation and leadership training culminating in a treacherous trek across Dartmoor. If successful, that feat would then be followed by ten weeks of initial fleet time aboard an operational Royal Navy warship and if she passed that then it would be back to Dartmouth for as further four weeks and at that point, her dream would be complete as she would be allowed to pass out of Britannia Royal Naval College as a Royal Navy officer.

That would still only be the very beginning of her future as she had to pass flight training to continue on her desired route to become one of the best helicopter pilots on the planet. However, before that she needed to complete basic training and she intended to become the best officer cadet to pass out of the illustrious college which had seen thousands of young men and more recently women go to sea on ships to protect the shores and shipping lanes crucial to the United Kingdom's survival as an island nation.

That she was nervous did not even attempt to cover her emotions as she pondered her future while she stood on that parade ground.

That same time...

Blairhoyle
Scotland

Jasper glared at Cassie as he thrust a copy of the Daily Mail in her direction followed by a copy of the Times, The Telegraph, and the Daily Express for her perusal.

"I specifically said that Vengeance should not be splashed across the Monday morning's front pages!" he said.

Cassie studied the newspaper, finding nothing on the front page before she turned to page two where some quite grainy images depicted TWILIGHT and a pair of Royal Marine ORCs plus some totally inaccurate speculation. "Oh."

"Well?"

"You said nothing about page two," Cassie offered reasonably.

Jasper opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it and he wondered why he had ever signed up for the job.

That afternoon...

Hudson had spent the day resting under the watchful eyes of Alexandra who he found to be very nice and an amazing cook.

He was awoken from a snooze by some more of his friends from the past – actually, he was awoken by the unrepentant Kaitlin and...

"Charlie!" Hudson exclaimed as he recognised the older girl. "Looking good, girl!"

"Hands off the merchandise!" came a familiar voice behind Charlotte.

"Jake! I might have known – you and Charlie were destined to be together. Have you two...?"

"Yep!" Naomi confirmed as Charlotte blushed violently.

"Full on?"

"Yep!"

"Cool!" Hudson commented at the revelation. He figured that all his friends were doing well and basically living relatively normal lives.

That was something which he craved more than anything.

The following weekend...
Saturday, May 26th

London, England

The planned patrols for that weekend had been cancelled and a more specific mission had been rapidly assembled in response to a call for help.

That had been a call for help from what was supposed to have been protected housing, as in protected by Vengeance. Over a year previously*, Fusion, Vengeance, and their French counterparts of Honneur had combined in between weddings to go after one Justin Fareham who had been making a disturbing attempt to join forces with Robert Bowman who was already a thorn in Vengeance's side. That event had never come to pass with Fareham now serving a life sentence at Her Majesty's pleasure. Hit Girl and Belle had seen to one of Fareham's loan collectors who had come to pieces at Hit Girl's behest. The family the loan shark had sought recompense from had been that of Janine Johns.

Janine Johns was a single mother with four children the eldest of whom had just turned thirteen while the youngest was a few months from turning five. Her husband had been an innocent victim of knife crime a little over two years previously leaving her alone to bring up the children. Then had come that day when the bastard Benny Wilder, an agent for Fareham's lieutenant, Gerome Portland, had demanded a higher repayment of her never-ending loan. It had turned physical when she had been backhanded across the face, twice, and her eldest son, Tyler then twelve, had also been struck when he had tried to defend his mother from the brute of a man many times his size. The next twenty minutes had been a whirlwind as two vigilantes had appeared in her home and taken the loan shark to task.

The realisation that Vengeance had been in her home had been astonishing, but Janine Johns had felt intense relief that the situation had been handled without her family being hurt further.

..._...

The past year or so since the incident had been amazing for both herself and for her young family as they had been rehomed.

They lived in a clean townhouse with plenty of space in a well-built and well-maintained block located in a good part of London. She had also landed a well-paying job out of the blue at Wayne Enterprises located in the City on the Isle of Dogs. Her children were thriving at local schools, and it seemed to Janine that a page had been turned for her and her young family. But then the inevitable occurred and the likes of Fareham, Portland, and Wilder had descended onto their estate and begun to terrorise those living there, pushing loans, 'protection', and then drugs, all at the point of a knife. Then came the first injury on the estate – a stabbing – and a sixteen-year-old boy had ended up in hospital.

After six weeks of it, Janine could see where things were going so, she had called a special number she had been made to memorise for just such a situation.

..._...

That evening, three shapes stood above the Westferry Road entrance to the Limehouse Link Tunnel to the west of The City.

From their vantage point they could see into Canary Wharf a few hundred yards distant to the east and across the River Thames into Rotherhithe. Dozens of cars were moving in and out of the tunnel portals beneath them causing a constant roar of sound to permeate the area. Apart from the river below them, the streets around were all residential and made up of reclaimed warehousing, town houses, and blocks of flats or apartments. As they looked down Three Colt Street, they watched two green Range Rovers pull up alongside the cub and disgorge six men – the driver of each vehicle remained. While five of the men were obvious muscle, the sixth was smaller in stature and obviously the boss with his protection. The group walked past the home of Janine Johns and took a left into Dundee Wharf where one of the goons spoke threateningly to the security guard as he sat in the 'gatehouse' of the private estate. The tall electrically operated gates swung open allowing the six men access with the gates closing behind them.

Spark sent images of the Range Rover number plates back to The Archive along with high quality images of the five bully men and their protectee.

..._...

While Spark, Belle, and Psyche provided overwatch from their vantage point, an adult knocked on the door of Janine Johns.

The door was opened, on a chain, by Janine who studied her caller, checking her out from head to toe.

"I am Keira Schneider – you gave us a call," Keira said, offering her Security Service ID to Janine.

"Please come in, Mrs Schneider; I was told you were coming."

Keira waited for the chain to be removed and the door to reopen before she could enter. Janine clocked the two Range Rovers parked up where they were at least once or sometimes more per week as she closed the door and locked it. Keira followed Janine into the small living room where four young faces looked up at her.

"This is Keira," Janine said.

"Hi, Keira," Mindy Johns replied smiling broadly.

"Hi," Tyler said with a wave.

"Happy birthday, Tyler," Keira said, and Tyler beamed happily. "These two must be Rebecca and Jenny."

The two youngest girls grinned as they sat together playing on a shared tablet.

"I'm taking Keira upstairs – Mindy, look after the girls, please."

"Yes, mum!"

Keira followed Janine up three flights of stairs before emerging onto a small roof terrace where Janine immediately noticed the dark forms atop the tunnel portal.

"Friends," Keira advised. "What can you tell us about those men."

"They came into the area about seven weeks ago – their card."

Keira took a look at the card under a light. It bore a company name and a phone number. The name was obscure by intention, Keira believed: Carnaby Services. It could mean anything and apparently, Janine explained, they would offer money, 'assistance' with just about any problem - which included the supply of drugs and other pharmaceuticals, and protection services – all for a fee. Indeed, Janine had been shaken down for £150 the previous month and she knew that they would be back the following week for more 'protection'. One family had refused to pay, and their son had been knifed in broad daylight as an example.

"Let's just say that they are going to need protection from tonight," Keira replied darkly. "Lock your door once I'm gone."

As Keira headed back down to the ground floor, Janine noticed that the dark forms atop the tunnel portal had vanished.

..._...

The drivers of the two high-end Range Rovers paid little attention to their surroundings; they were untouchable - or so they thought.

But they were paying enough attention to notice a woman closing on them with a short-barrelled pump-action shotgun held at her side. The driver was astounded to see the woman striding beneath the street lighting from the direction of the River Thames. The woman was dressed all in black – black jeans, black T-shirt, a black waist-length leather jacket, and black mid-heeled leather boots. The hands, one of which held the Mossberg 590A1 short-barrelled shotgun, were clad in a black material. Dark brown hair hung loosely in a single tight ponytail. The first driver made to step out of his vehicle and was reaching for a pistol he carried when the shotgun came up and he noticed a strange ten-inch extension mounted on the end of the barrel.

"No, you don't," a voice commanded. "You are illegally parked and I'm the parking attendant. You want to park; it's going to cost you."

"What the fuckin' 'ell are you on about, bitch?" came the brave response.

"This street. Dundee Wharf. The whole of fucking Limehouse; it's protected from scum like you and your boss. You going to go easily?"

"We ain't going fuckin' nowhere!" came the voice of the second driver.

Keira sighed. "You've got a flat tyre."

"No, I fucking don't..."

The man groaned as he realised the trap a full second before the expensive tyre on the right front wheel hissed out air as the shotgun fired surprisingly quietly into the rubber shredding the tyre and causing the heavy 4x4 to sink to the ground at one corner.

"Let your boss know that he had better not come back here. Goodnight, gentlemen."

The woman vanished just as she had appeared, and the two drivers set to work changing the tyre.

..._...

The resulting conversation when the boss and his muscle returned was animated to say the least.

Eyes searched low and high looking for trouble, but they found nothing despite four sets of eyes observing their every movement. From a distance it had a certain comical appeal as they tried to figure out who the woman in black was.

"I think you upset them, Scorpion," Belle commented.

"I have been known to rub people the wrong way, from time to time," Scorpion admitted.

"You think they'll come back?" Spark asked.

"Oh yes, they will," Scorpion replied.

"Then we can have some fun," Electra muttered darkly from behind her mask.

"You still can," Obsidian suggested. "Starla has discovered their base of operations – I'm sending you the address now."

As they group headed for the water where a 10.5-metre RHIB floated alongside the dock wall. The inflation tubes were dark blue with light grey and matched the deep-V GRP hull beneath as well as the fixed cabin fitted over three-fifths of the deck. Tinted ballistic glass was fitted in the window frames which were vertical at the sides but sloped in wards for the front three panes which formed half a shallow hexagon before the helm. While a full-sized door sealed the rear of the cabin, a small watertight external hatch was available forward where there was a small day head and storage locker. Atop the cabin was fitted a remotely operated rectangular searchlight, a FLIR, horns, a liferaft, and two life rings as well as a squat radar dome located between a pair of tall VHF antenna. Inside the cabin was fitted with seating for five with two at the main console forward – extra seating could be fitted as required up to a maximum of three more. Each seat was independently sprung to absorb the motion of the lithe craft as it bounced over the waves. At the stern, a pair of Suzuki 350-horsepower outboard V6 DOHC 24-valve engines, each costing over thirty-thousand pounds, were mounted on the transom. Together, the engines could thrust the craft through the waves at over forty knots.

As Keira headed into the cabin, Spark released the bow line enough to hold the RHIB alongside while Electra did the same aft. Belle ensured that nobody came along to interfere. Once the twin outboard engines purred smoothly to life, the lines were removed and securely stowed on the deck. With a last check ashore, the three vigilantes joined Keira as she backed away from the dock wall before she spun the wheel over to the left and increased power to the engines, so they came around at a steep angle before Keira eased the wheel as they picked up a course highlighted on the computerised navigation screen mounted to the left of her instruments.

"Archive, this is Boudica, we are on the water and heading around the Isle of Dogs," Keira reported.

"Acknowledged, Boudica, good hunting!"

Keira thrust the throttles forward and they raced across the waters of the River Thames at some thirty knots.

..._...

The RHIB moved down the river displaying the usual nighttime lights as required by nautical law.

With the illumination, they were just like any other vessel on the river and generally ignored; it was a case of hiding in plain sight. After about twenty minutes, Keira turned BOUDICA into East India Quay where Spark scrambled up an iron ladder onto the pier set some thirty yards out into the Thames. She secured the bow rope and the BOUDICA was left to swing to the current as Keira made her way ashore along a steel gangway a few minutes ahead of the masked vigilantes. She was not carrying the shotgun as stealth was the name of the game when they had no idea what they going to find or run into when they found their target.

Keira ran along the concrete dock and through a set of gates into a large apartment complex which was gated with road access via a manned booth to the north. The block of apartments closest to the water was split over five levels compared to the eight or so for the other blocks. Two of the three top floor 'penthouses' belonged to a Frederick Carnaby; a former city trader turned loan shark. He appeared to live modestly but there was a lot more to him than met the eye, according to Eric. He was also a nasty piece of work. As Keira approached the block, two large men moved out of the shadows to intercept her. Neither saw the woman as a threat but they were doing their jobs by ensuring that nobody came close to their boss' apartment block.

They allowed Keira to come close, too close.

..._...

Neither was visibly armed but that did not prevent Keira from producing a pair of ASPs and deploying them with a flick of her wrists.

She did not give the two thugs an opportunity to see her as a threat before she became a threat. Her first strike took the man to her right across the side of his head, sending him sprawling. With no remorse, Keira beat the pair to the ground even as they struggled to produce their own weapons. A third man appeared from the ground level parking structure below the apartments at the sounds of the commotion.

"Hey!" he called out as he drew a sap to attack Keira with, but he was intercepted by a strike from nowhere as the lethal taser-tip of Spark's five-section chain whip came in contact with his neck and his entire body involuntarily shook as high voltage but low current coursed through his flesh and upset his nervous system.

The man dropped his sap as he collapsed to the ground. Keira backed off as Belle and Rigour ran up to secure her two thugs. All three men were bound and gagged before being dragged into the parking structure and dumped behind a Range Rover which matched that of the one which Keira had immobilised earlier that evening. With the men out of the way, they used a swipe card taken from one of the men to open an access door which led inside the apartment block from the parking structure. Keira led the trio of masked vigilantes up to the top floor by the concrete fire stairs. They emerged onto a small well-appointed landing off of which three doors led into the penthouses. Of the three penthouses, 4/1 and 4/2 were owned by Carnaby and would be their target for the night.

The remaining penthouse, 4/3, was owned by a company located in the financial district. While Keira and Belle went for 4/1, Spark and Rigour went for 4/2. Each door was secured by three separate locks of which only one on each door was actually in use, and they were soon defeated by Keira and Rigour both of whom used a mechanical lock pick to aid their access. They had identified sounds of movement in 4/2 while 4/1 appeared empty but neither property appeared to have alarms set which had been confirmed by Obsidian with assistance from Synthesis.

Each access door was pushed open at the same time and each pair advanced into their assigned apartment.

..._...

In 4/2, Spark and Rigour advanced silently, fully aware that the apartment was occupied.

It was not your typical apartment as there was little in the way of creature comforts in evidence – it was more like a small office. Mechanical sounds could be heard from the room to the left while it sounded and smelt like someone was making a brew in the kitchen to their right – Spark headed off in that direction while Rigour kept watch.

"Got a brew for me?"

"Can do... huh!?"

The man had a mug of steaming tea in his left hand and was just reaching for an open bag of sugar when he realised that it was not a normal sounding voice which had asked for a brew. He turned to see a very unwanted and unexpected apparition standing in the doorway of the kitchen. The man made to drop the mug of PG Tips, but Spark kicked the cup upwards, and the hot tea splashed over the man's face.

Out in the hallway, Rigour heard the commotion followed by a scream of pain, and she groaned while she pulled her suppressed P90 around from its mount on her back, raising the lethal weapon to her right shoulder and pulling back on the charging handle which then shot forward when she released it. She moved swiftly into the living room where she found several tables laid out covered in cash while four women and three men fed the folding cash into electro-mechanical counting machines before binding the notes in batches while the coins went into electro-mechanical sorting machines and thence into plastic bags by denomination. Two of the men had leapt up at the exclamation and scream of pain from the kitchen but the sight of an armour-clad munchkin armed with an automatic weapon gave them pause.

"What the fuck!" one growled, ignoring the advanced weapon. "It's a fucking kid! Fuck off kid!"

"Your foot must be painful," Rigour suggested to the man.

"No, it ain't!"

"Whoops!" Rigour added as she put a 5.7-millimetre bullet into the man's right foot. "Should have done that first. My bad!"

The man fell to the floor of the apartment, grasping at his right shoe and injured foot. He was not happy. "You fucking little bitch; I'm gonna skin you alive!"

"Try it!" another voice suggested as the man looked up to see the business end of a SIG Sauer P229 Pro Compact pistol aimed at his head. The arm that held the pistol pulsed an electric blue as did the body armour of the taller Vengeance vigilante whose eyes were an evil electric yellow.

While hands raised all around and Rigour kept her weapon up to cover the men and women, Spark proceeded to search the tables where she swept up a number of paper notebooks full of handwritten notes which made little sense to her, but she pocketed them nonetheless along with several expensive stacks of banknotes which she stuffed inside a large folding holdall which she had brought just for the occasion.

"If you twats want to operate in this area then you will need protection against people who might want to hurt you," Spark said calmly in her electronically enhanced voice. "You know – you might get shot in the foot, or you may be stabbed." A man screamed as Spark stabbed him in the right thigh with a small throwing knife. "It's also possible that you might be raided by people who want to hurt you. Let's just say it's gonna cost you ten kay a week to operate in Limekilns. We'll be collectin' every Thursday night..., so have our cash ready for collection. You understand me?"

Nobody responded.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!" Spark bellowed as she struck out with her chain whip, smashing several of the counting machines.

Verbal acknowledgements abounded and Spark grinned beneath her mask.

"You all have a good night and give our regards to your boss."

"Night!" Rigour added as she backed away, keeping everyone in sight as the left the apartment.

Rigour glanced into the kitchen where she saw a man twitching on the floor.

..._...

Across the way in 4/1, Keira and Belle had found their apartment devoid of human presence but they did find a fluffy tabby cat lounging on a leather sofa in the living room.

Unlike the other apartment, 4/1 was fitted out as a luxurious home for someone. Keira was actually quite surprised by how homely the apartment was. It was fitted out with the very latest appliances each of which was at the expensive end of the range. Together, they searched the apartment finding little actual paperwork or evidence of wrongdoing – actually, they found nothing beyond confirming that the apartment did indeed belong to one Frederick Carnaby with lots of photos of the man on holiday in expensive places. The man also lived alone with no evidence of a partner of any kind, nor of children.

"Look what I've found," Belle announced as she came out of the dining room with a picture frame in her hands.

Keira looked at the picture and frowned. Frederick Carnaby got around, it seemed, as the photo was of himself and one William Fraser – a man on the Vengeance most wanted list. The photo had been taken a while ago, at some function or other but it indicated that Carnaby was not a nice man. They checked out every photo they could find took their own photos of the photos for future examination.

Keira turned towards the main access door at the sound of violence in the other apartment.

"I think we need to make a move – what are you doing?"

"I'm checking the cat – he's very sweet," Belle responded.

"For fuck's sake! Leave the cat!"

Belle took a selfie of herself and the cat which was purring quite happily as it was stroked by Belle. Keira then had an idea, and she pulled out an RFID scanner which she ran across the cat several times before the device beeped and a line of characters appeared on the display. These were sent via email to Obsidian for action – it was a longshot but worth a try.

"Let's go – it seems that Rigour and Spark have caused a ruckus across the way," Keira pointed out.

Belle nodded as she left the cat dozing on the sofa.

Archive Central
Admiralty Arch

Forty minutes later Keira, Mary, Amber, and Electra stepped into the command centre on the fifth subterranean level below Admiralty Arch where they found the ever-eager Starla (Frieda Lawrence – she refused to respond to her given name when on duty in the command centre) and her sister, Freya Lawrence monitoring Vengeance systems across London.

Ginny Turner, Mary's ever-attentive personal protective officer was one level below, her nerves returning to normal now that her charge, twelfth in line to the throne, had returned to safety in the bunker deep beneath London. She was not the only nervous person who had been awaiting the return of their charge.

"Did all go well?" Charles Allerton enquired from a console as he saw Amber return safely. The girl gave him a happy grin and ran over to sit next to her guardian.

"Oh, yes! I got to taser two men, and I smashed up some shit – it was fucking awesome!"

Charles grinned, ignoring the coarse language; he was just very pleased that the girl was happy and in one piece having enjoyed her night out.

"I think we got the message across," Keira replied. "They won't be happy about our visit. Mary found a pussy, though."

"I didn't know you swung that way," Electra chided.

Mary scowled. "The man had a cat – A CAT! Keira, stop being a bitch!"

Keira grinned unapologetically before she turned to Freya. "They returned yet?"

"Yes, they have," Freya responded as she punched some keys on the keyboard at her console. "I'll play it back."

A large screen illuminated with some CCTV images being transmitted across the city from the raided apartments. The cameras were very small and had been left by Mary and Electra by deft of hand. The images showed the cat asleep on the sofa in one view while the opposing view showed the money counting room with a group of men and women clearing up the mess while others attended to the man with a bullet hole in his foot. Then came the sound of the main door opening and footsteps as Carnaby came into view.

"What the FUCK happened here?" he demanded.

"It was Vengeance," the man with a hole in his foot responded from the floor.

"What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"One of them put a bullet in my foot."

Carnaby did not seem all that bothered by the injury.

"What did they want?"

"They want ten kay a week – 'for protection'."

"You what? They're turning the tables on us with our own fucking racket?"

Then the man's eyes swept the smashed counting machines and the scattered cash. His eyes came up short as he mentally counted the stacks of notes. He glared at all present as he spoke with a dangerous tone.

"How much did they take?"

There was hesitation amongst all present and nobody seemed willing to respond, and it was left to the guy on the floor gripping his foot to respond.

"About eighty-five grand, boss."

"You useless fucking BASTARDS!"

Carnaby looked down at 'shot foot' and forced a smile. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, boss, it does."

"Let me help you with that," Carnaby offered kindly as he pulled a Browning Hi-Power from his underarm holster and shot the man in the chest twice before he looked up at the other men and women. "Get this crap tidied up, NOW! Billingsgate – you're running this shit show. Get rid of this fucking dickhead."

A rather unhappy looking woman in her early thirties looked up and nodded as the doorbell rang and Carnaby turned to the door; he smiled as he recognised the caller. "Destiny! Somebody I can rely on!"

"You remodelling?" the new visitor enquired as she took in the mess and the recently deceased man.

"It was Vengeance sending us a message. What you got there?"

The girl, Destiny, waved an envelope at Carnaby. "Found stuffed partially into your mailbox downstairs. Thought I'd bring it up – it says 'urgent' on it."

"Thanks," Carnaby said as he took the plain white envelope which had a 'V' in the top right where a stamp would normally be located, and he opened the flap which had not been sealed. "A note from Vengeance, I'm thinking. MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Carnaby dropped the envelope and its contents as he bolted out of the apartment and through to his own across the landing. The girl, Destiny, picked up the envelope and a single piece of A4 paper upon which a photo had been printed. The girl studied the photo for a moment before she laughed out loud, grinning broadly.

The photo was a selfie taken of Carnaby's cat being stroked by a masked Vengeance vigilante.

The following afternoon...
Sunday, May 27th

Ilkley,
West Yorkshire

Home of Georgia Watson

Melissa Watson had considered it a great idea when she had been approached by Rachel at the behest of Rylee and Tanya, so after a brief chat with her husband, she had agreed on the spot – they had always wanted a son and they both knew that Georgia had always wanted a sibling.

Georgia, on the other hand, was not so amused, although she too had wanted a sibling, she had wanted a sister and not a brother! However, her mother had made up her mind and her father had willingly gone along with the plan. What had finally changed Georgia's mind was the fact that her best friend had vouched for the boy – in her usual coarse manner: "He's a fucking tosser who needs put in his place constantly by us girls, but I trust the wanker with my life, so enough said, right?"

It had been a typical Rylee response – at least the new Rylee – and Georgia had gone along with it as she also trusted Rylee with her life. However, first impressions were what Georgia based her friendships upon, and the boy was failing right out of the starting blocks.

"Well, hello there!" Hudson grinned. "I'm Hudson."

"Hello," Georgia muttered as she watched the boy's eyes move across her body and she cringed.

"I always thought Rylee looked good, but you... wow!"

Georgia actually felt herself blushing which freaked her out a little bit. Then Rylee handed her friend a small flick knife.

"He gets his dick out; cut it off."

Hudson and Georgia both scowled at Rylee, but the boy got the message that romance was not on the immediate horizon.

"Welcome, Hudson," Georgia said. "This is now your home, and I am not like Rylee – I am normal."

Melissa laughed heartily at that comment much to her daughter's consternation. She had watched Georgia grow considerably with the return of Rylee and apart from certain aspects of the friendship, Melissa would not go back as her daughter appeared to function better with Rylee around and that included her schoolwork which had shown a marked improvement over the previous months. However, certain traits had been transferred from Rylee to Georgia which no parent would welcome and Georgia had feral moments which had her mother and father wondering if they had made the right decisions concerning their daughter.

"Georgia, why don't you go show Hudson his room," Melissa suggested. "And take Rylee with you."

Once the children had vanished noisily up the stairs, Melissa turned to Rachel.

"I hope I'm doing the right thing, but Hudson seems a nice boy, and he does need a home."

Rachel smiled at her own best friend as she responded.

"I had the same thoughts concerning Simon, but I have never regretted it for one moment. Hudson is bound by that tattoo on his left wrist. He is bound to Rylee and the others, and he can be trusted. He won't step out of line as he knows that Simon will come down hard on him."

"I know. Georgia always hated being an only child and she dreamt of having a little sister, but I was never able to conceive again after Georgia and we never had the time to consider adoption."

"You're going to have the time of your lives with another child in the house."

"I bet! You'd better come over with a bottle of wine from time to time, Rachel."

"Oh, I will – I buy the stuff in bulk now my daughter's returned!"

..._...

Up the stairs, Hudson Vaughan had dropped the bravado as he felt increasing apprehension what with the attention he was receiving and by what was to become his new life with a family he did not know but whom had been vouched for by somebody he trusted completely.

The boy had never had his own bedroom – not that he could remember anyway – and it was amazing. The bedding on the single bed was blue and the curtains were also blue. There may have been a little too much blue, but he was not one to complain and he knew that his arrival was a tremendous upheaval for Melissa and Harvey who were his new parents and for Georgia, his new sister. He was scared that he might put them off him and then he would be alone again, maybe even back on the streets although Tanya had insisted that that would never happen.

Rylee, despite her rough edges and seeming total lack of conscience, could tell that something was amiss with Hudson, and she knew from her own experience that returning to a family life was not easy and the first few weeks had been scary to the skilled mini assassin. She knew that Hudson would struggle to find his feet at first but unlike with herself, Hudson was surrounded by friends who all wanted the best for the boy. Rylee felt a responsibility to all her Zetas as they had supported her when she had needed that support, and she was their de facto leader even if Urban Predator was long dead.

"You're not alone, Hudson; you need us, we're just a phone call away," Rylee said supportively.

"I know. It's just a lot to get used to – no wonder you went nuts in Tesco."

Rylee groaned at the mention of that incident.

"Is it okay?" Georgia asked. "Mum says we can go shopping after school tomorrow for clothes and stuff."

"School?"

"Yes, school," Rylee said acidly. It was one aspect of her new life which she did not exactly hate but it was still a waste of time in her mind. "You'll start in Year 7 – we're all in Year 8."

Hudson grimaced at the thought of school.

The following morning...
Monday, May 28th

Ilkley Grammar School

Hudson had the luxury of not standing out like a sore thumb with a cheap school uniform as Rylee had on her first day back at school two years previously, almost to the day, and he also had friends to be with him especially as Rylee's nemesis decided to butt in on their arrival.

"Watson has a boyfriend; must be blind to want her!" Tricia Hartley spouted. "But she does hang around with Clarkson."

"You must be the stuck-up bitch Georgia warned me about – and we have Evie and Violet; Tricia's Tramps," Hudson stated with a grin. "Good to meet the three of you; my name's Hudson."

There was laughter from many who had overheard the conversation which only increased as Tricia, Evie, and Violet stalked off to their first class, scowling at everyone as they pushed through the crowds of other children milling about the school.

"A good start, Hudson," Georgia grinned. "Just don't kill anyone or burn down the school and all will be well." Georgia grabbed a girl walking past. "This is Ginny Haxon and she is in your class. Ginny will make sure you get to the right classes on time, Hudson, and we'll see you at lunchtime."

"Okay," Hudson responded a little uneasily.

Georgia hoped that her new brother would have a fun day.

*See Chapter 84 – A Tale of Two Weddings – Interlude I of this story.