Debts
A Noir fanfic in the Apres Noir series
by hkmiller
11 January 2005 - first draft completed
17 January 2005 - pre-reader draft completed
28 February 2005 - FFML draft completed
The characters of Noir were created by Ryoe Tsukimura and Yoko
Kikuchi, and are copyrighted by A.D.Vision, Inc. in the USA and
Ryoe Tsukimura / Bee Train / Victor Entertainment in Japan.
No disrespect intended by my unlicensed usage.
This is the third story in my "Apres Noir" series. Previous
stories in the series are archived at:
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Dojo/5058
To summarize: the day after leaving the manor, Mireille and
Kirika acquired two ten-year-old girls, Aditi and Tati Sarkhovsky.
The day after that, the four rescued Charlotte Merril, a medieval
historian, from a serial killer.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Damn it. Where is she? When's she getting here?" Sigourney
Lawley grunted. She had a case file open in front of her, a
divorce for a battered woman, but she just couldn't concentrate.
She started tapping a finger on the arm of her chair, looking
around the small apartment for something else she could do while
she waited.
At that moment she heard the key rattle in the doorlock. She shot
to her feet, drawing a breath of anticipation. The door opened
and in walked three women and two girls. Sigourney had eyes only
for the first.
"Char! You're back! I've been so worried, and you hardly said
anything on the phone..." Sigourney rushed forward to throw her
arms around Charlotte Merril in a tearful hug, eagerly returned.
"I'll live, Sigi. I missed you too." Charlotte's voice was
hoarse as she spoke. Mindful of her guests, Charlotte broke the
embrace first, turning to make introductions. "Everyone, this is
Sigourney Lawley, my friend and roommate. As I mentioned, she's a
lawyer specializing in domestic cases, including child custody and
adoption. Sigourney, these are the four I mentioned on the phone:
Mireille Bouquet, Kirika Yuumura, and Aditi and Tati Sarkhovsky.
They were all with me in Bordeaux."
Sigourney looked over her guests. Mireille Bouquet looked normal
enough, a little younger than herself and Charlotte, speaking
French with just a trace of a Corsican accent. The others were
younger: Kirika Yuumura, an oriental girl, Japanese by the name,
looked to be in her late teens, and the other two girls, one
Indian by appearance and the other Southeast Asian, were
considerably younger, perhaps ten.
"Please, let's all sit down," Charlotte urged, gesturing at the
limited seating. The apartment was definitely small: a living
room overcrowded with books; a kitchenette too small for more than
one person to work; a short hallway leading back to a single
bedroom and a bathroom. The few walls not covered by bookshelves
held small framed photographs or posters. "And can we get you
anything?"
After a glance at the seating, Mireille took the armchair. She
patted the armrest next to her for Kirika to perch on. The two
girls sat on the floor. Sigourney and Charlotte took the
loveseat, facing Mireille.
"We won't impose on you for long; please don't bother," Mireille
addressed the pair. "Ms. Lawley, we were very fortunate that Ms.
Merril happened to know someone with your qualifications. These
two girls need your services urgently. Their adopted parents are
dead, they have no passports, their citizenship is unclear, and
their closest surviving family is unclear. They'd like to live
here in Paris, somewhere close to us. Kirika and I will pay your
legal fees."
"You poor girls!" Sigourney composed herself, only the pressure
of a quick squeeze of the hand reassuring Charlotte and herself
that their reunion was far from finished. "Before I can agree to
take on any case, I will need to know who I'm representing: you
or them."
"You may assume that you're representing them, as long as their
own wishes take precedence over the wishes of any adult relatives
you may uncover," Mireille replied readily.
"The wishes of the children involved should ALWAYS take
precedence," Sigourney replied sharply. The two girls grinned and
high-fived each other.
"We don't ask that you view Kirika and I as your clients. We
would appreciate it, however, if you regarded us as covered by
lawyer-client confidentiality," Mireille continued.
Sigourney paused. "I will have to be representing YOU in some
matter, as well as the girls, in that case. That's the first
thing a judge would ask."
Mireille tapped her chin for a moment, thinking. "How about a
retainer? No specific case?"
"That will work," Sigourney replied with a slight smile. "Now,
let's just go over my fees..."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Ya can get the money from my sister, Sigourney! She's a lawyer,
she's gotta have the dough!"
The heavy man sitting behind the large, solid desk took a slow,
considered puff of his expensive cigar as he studied the man
standing in front of his desk. Two reliable employees held the
thin, pleading man tightly pinioned.
"Mr. Lawley, you owe my organization some eighteen thousand euros.
You haven't paid even the interest in the last two weeks. If I
don't get my money back, I'm gonna hafta set an example here; it's
just good business."
"But she's got the money! And, and," Silvester Lawley's tone
rose as his nervousness increased, "she agreed to co-sign the
loan! Yes, that's right, Mr. Renault, sir; Sis is the one who's
reneging on the loan, not me! Not me!"
Georgie Renault turned his head slightly towards the older man
standing quietly behind him. "Etienne? What d'ya think?"
"Mr. Lawley's here is the only signature we have on file, sir. I
advise you to just kneecap him and write off the loss. That's
what Girard would have done," Etienne LeFevre replied. "And then
there's his older brother, the Chief Inspector, to consider. We
believe he washed his hands of Silvester long ago, but he almost
certainly cares about his sister. Girard always said never to let
the police take it personally."
"Girard Tufay is dead, ever since that damn Corsican Feyder hit
town. I'm the boss now, and I'm gonna be bigger than Tufay ever
was. We been writin' off too many loans lately; I wanna get more
aggressive on this one."
Turning back to face Silvester Lawley, Renault continued. "Okay,
mebbe your sister can come up with the money. But since we don't
got her signature, you're gonna have to ask her for us nicely.
And I don't mean tomorrow."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Okay, that's settled," Sigourney agreed. "Let's go on to the
girls themselves, and their background."
"Aditi, if you would," Mireille asked, turning to the Indian-
looking girl and switching to English. "Tell us what you can
remember about your original parents and how you became adopted."
"Well, I was born in Amritsar, in the Punjab, in India," Aditi
began. "My last name was 'Kumar' then. When I was six, I was
playing with the servants' kids in the basement when we heard a
lot of shooting. We all hid. After the shooting stopped, we
heard footsteps approach. It was my Russian parents, Sergei
and Ludmilla Sarkhovsky, but I didn't know them then; that was the
first time we met. They smiled sadly at me, then Mom hugged me as
they told me that my whole family was dead. Then Mom and Dad took
me to the airport and we flew to where I met Tati."
"Just a minute." Sigourney blinked, holding up a hand.
"Who was shooting? What was this Russian couple doing there?
They just waltzed in and took you, a new orphan, and left the
country with you? Just like that? How many days did all this
take?"
Aditi shrugged. "It didn't take any days. We just went to the
airport and left. I think we refueled once, and when we landed,
we were in Tati's home city."
"Refueled once? What kind of plane was this?" Mireille asked.
Aditi thought that over. "Well, I don't remember it very well.
It was a lot smaller than most airplanes I've been on. There
weren't any other passengers."
"A private jet?" At Aditi's shrug, Mireille, frowning, gestured
to Tati to take up the story.
"I'm from Surabaya, on the island of Java, in Indonesia. My
father's name was Soedjati Tanjung. The same thing happened to
me: we were playing, we heard shooting, and we hid. Later Mother
and Father Sarkhovsky found me. They told me my family was dead
and showed me the bodies. They took me to the hotel room where
Aditi was watching TV. The next day we all four flew to Moscow
and met Grandfather. The five of us lived in an apartment in
the south part of Moscow."
Sigourney noticed something odd with Mireille's and Kirika's
expressions at the conclusion of this narrative, as if something
about it touched a chord within them. Mireille reached up with
one hand, which Kirika took and squeezed in reassurance.
"So your formal adoption as Sarkhovskys took place there in
Moscow?" Sigourney asked, pen poised over notepad.
Aditi and Tati looked at each other and shrugged. "Guess so."
"In Moscow, and later in America, Grandpa is the one who really
raised us. Mom and Dad were too busy working," Aditi continued.
"We didn't see them very often 'cause they traveled a lot."
"We were eight when we all moved to America," Tati added.
Aditi smirked. "Tati didn't speak any English when we first got
to America, but I did. I had to translate everything for her!"
Tati stuck her tongue out at Aditi.
"Where in America did you live?" Sigourney asked.
"In Virginia, near Washington, D.C. Our town was called McLean.
We lived in a tall apartment building near the beltway," Aditi
explained. Tati added the address.
"Did your Russian parents have any other relatives in America?"
"We never met any..." Aditi said, looking over at Tati for
confirmation.
"And they never mentioned any to us," Tati finished.
"How about in Russia?"
"Not in Moscow. I think Dad might have said something..."
"Father had some cousins in Siberia, in Irkutsk. I remember
Grandfather talking about them."
"Do you know the names of your parents' employers?"
Aditi and Tati shrugged in unison. "Mom and Dad worked at the
same place in America," Aditi recalled.
"But they usually just referred to 'the company'," Tati continued.
"I don't remember them ever mentioning a name like 'Acme' or
anything."
"Right." Sigourney tapped her pen against her notepad slowly,
thinking. "I understand you didn't have your own passports?"
"No, Mother and Father had us listed in theirs," Tati replied.
Sigourney turned to Mireille and Kirika. "And you're sure the
Russian parents are dead?"
Mireille spread her hands. "We heard two shots. We saw the
terrorists drop two bodies, a man and a woman in their thirties,
down into a deep ravine with a rushing river at the bottom. When
we looked into the ravine, we saw no trace of them."
"And did you file a police report to this effect?" Sigourney
asked. At Mireille's and Kirika's blank faces, she continued,
"Right. Well," Sigourney ventured, "it's probably not going to
be a problem keeping the girls here in France. But as for you
two adopting them..."
"I didn't say we wanted to adopt them," Mireille replied
hurriedly. "Just stay close to them. You know, visit them."
"Yes, you do want to adopt us!" Aditi insisted. "They do too!"
she added to Sigourney. Tati nodded her agreement vigorously.
Sigourney darted a glance at Charlotte, lifting an eyebrow.
Charlotte replied with a gesture at the state of their apartment
and a put-upon expression. Sigourney sighed. "Well, I'm afraid
you're stuck with them for a few days, at least, until we get
matters sorted out. Charlotte and I don't have any room. Oh,
one last thing for today, I think. Ms. Bouquet, I assume you are
a French citizen?"
"Certainly."
"And you could give evidence of steady employment or of sufficient
savings to raise the children?"
"We're free-lance, not employees," Mireille replied, then paused,
thinking carefully. "I could provide evidence of... a modest but
adequate inheritance, given a few days' notice."
Sigourney shot Charlotte a brief "what-have-you-got-me-into?"
glance (which was returned with a rueful shrug), then continued.
"The courts have been receptive to custody cases and adoptions
involving stable female couples in recent years, but they are much
less receptive to adoptions by single females. What, may I ask,
is Ms. Yuumura's immigration status?"
Kirika blinked. "Immigration status?"
Mireille ground her teeth. "Kirika's been getting by on a
standard ninety-day tourist visa. Since she arrived, we're left
France often enough that it hasn't been an issue."
"I see. The two of you must understand, then, that no matter how
stable a couple you two see yourselves as being, the courts will
not agree, not when one member of that couple is only in France
on a tourist visa and is not an E.U. citizen. As far as the
courts are concerned, Ms. Bouquet, you would be legally adopting
the children as a solo parent. Such requests the courts have been
reluctant to grant."
Aditi and Tati threw themselves at Kirika and Mireille, sobbing.
"No! We want you to adopt us!"
"Don't cry," Kirika said helplessly. "We won't abandon you."
"We're just talking about legalities here," Mireille added.
"'Just'," Sigourney said sotto voce to Charlotte, rolling her
eyes.
"You shouldn't live with us anyway," Kirika went on. "It's not
safe for you."
Sigourney raised one eyebrow at Charlotte, who winced.
Shortly afterwards, the four guests left. As she shut the door,
Sigourney turned to face her roommate. "All right, let's have it,
Char. Just what have you gotten me into? What ARE those two
women?"
"Two maidens who govern death," Charlotte half-whispered
whimsically, looking at the door.
"WHAT?"
"Sorry; a historical reference. Professionally, I find them
fascinating. Anyway, as I told you over the phone, this horrible
man, who claimed to be the serial killer from the newspapers, held
the five of us captive in Bordeaux. Mireille and Kirika managed
to get free and we escaped."
"And? How did they get free? What else happened? You weren't
very forthcoming over the phone! And there hasn't been ANYTHING
in the newspapers! Did you even report it to the police?"
"No, we haven't; the man is... dead now, so there seemed little
point. And he did such awful, horrible things to us; I just want
to forget as much as I can." Charlotte wrapped her arms around
herself and shivered. "He... ra- raped me, Sigi. More than once.
If they hadn't rescued me, he'd have killed me."
Sigourney flinched even as she wrapped her arms around Charlotte.
"Oh, God, Char. I'm so sorry..."
"I can't tell you, Sigi, everything that happened. I just can't
talk about it. But I have no doubt at all that if it weren't for
Mireille and Kirika, I would be dead now. Whatever they are, I
think you should bear that in mind."
"Those two are bad news, in other words. And the girls are under
their spell, that's clear. I'm beginning to think the girls need
to be separated from those two women for their own good."
"Sigi, you'd separate half the children in Paris from their
parents if it were up to you. Mireille and Kirika understand what
those girls went through. The girls need them."
"What, captivity? I know two different psychologists who
specialize in helping children like that."
Charlotte replied reluctantly. "Not just captivity."
"Then WHAT? Did he rape them? Is that what you're not telling
me?"
"No, that's not it either. He didn't touch them, not like that,
anyway."
"Char!" Sigourney threw her arms up into the air. "You won't
talk about what happened! You defend two 'free-lance' women who
won't talk to the police about murders they've witnessed! You
refuse to let two innocent children stay here, condemning them to
stay with said women!" Sigourney let her arms drop and took a
deep breath. "You are impossible! If I didn't love you so
madly..."
Charlotte smiled gingerly and threw her arms around Sigourney,
resting her head on Sigourney's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sigi, I
really am. But it's not my secret to tell."
Sigourney hesitated a moment, then continued in a lower tone.
"And your... special feelings? What do they say?"
"I thought you didn't believe in them," Charlotte replied, amused,
then she posed her head, a finger to her chin, considering.
"Well, they're not evil. The madman who kept us captive: HE was
evil. He stank of it. He enjoyed doing what he did. Mireille
and Kirika don't enjoy violence, I'm certain, even though Kirika,
and presumably Mireille, are very, very good at it."
"Self-defense, you mean? That would be within the law."
Charlotte frowned. "Those two give me the STRANGEST feelings,
really eerie. I've never met anyone, not even the holiest priest
or nun, who gave me such a feeling of... of having a mission
beyond human ken. A mission to which normal human standards of
right and wrong might not apply."
"Great," Sigourney replied drily. "Okay, let me ask you this: do
THEY think they're on a mission From God?"
Charlotte paused a moment. "No, I don't believe they do. I know
they were the subject of a heretical medieval religious ceremony
four days ago, and at first I thought this was something they'd
sought out, as believers. But during our drive here I found out
this was something they'd had done TO them. They didn't realize
that it WAS a ceremony until after it was all over. Apparently
they thought they were ruining the ceremony when they were really
fulfilling it. And I don't think that, in their heart of hearts,
either of them really believe in any of it even now."
Sigourney opened her mouth, shut it again, then spoke more
carefully. "Char, I know you believe in that kind of thing, more
than I do, certainly. Not that that would be hard," Sigourney
raised a placating hand. "I'll just ask one thing: are the girls
in any danger from them?"
"No," Charlotte answered quickly. "Definitely not."
"Fine. I still think they'd be better off here."
"Sigi, we barely have enough room here for ourselves. You're
ALWAYS trying to bring in stray kids to stay here."
"I know, I know," Sigourney sighed.
"Maybe if we had a bigger place, but..."
"I KNOW, I said," Sigourney replied wearily. "'I do too much pro
bono work and you're an impoverished scholar', you're about to
say."
Charlotte shrugged mischievously. "You know me too well."
"I wouldn't mind 'knowing' you one more time, Char..." Sigourney
murmured softly, moving her face closer to Charlotte's.
Just then the door-buzzer rang, interrupting them. Sigourney and
Charlotte sighed, then Sigourney got up, went to the door, and
opened it.
"Silvester?! What do you want? If you're here for a visit, then
fine, come on in; but if you're here to borrow more money, then
you can just turn around and leave!" Sigourney tried her best to
look stern; God knew nothing else had worked with her little
brother.
"Look, Sis, I'm in a real bind this time. This is serious. I
gotta have..." Silvester Lawley rubbed his hands together
nervously, his head down and eyes on the floor.
"NO! Silvester Lawley, I've told you over and over again! I am
NOT lending you any more money! If that's all you came here for,
then goodbye!" Sigourney made a show of beginning to close the
door on her brother.
"Dammit, Sis, would you just LISTEN for once?! I said it's
serious this time!" Silvester, suddenly angry, raised his head
and pushed his red face right up to his sisters', his voice hoarse
with fear. "These guys are gonna break my legs, maybe kill me, if
I don't come up with the money I owe them! You gotta help me!"
Sigourney rolled her eyes. "Right. Sure they are. Silvester,
you still owe ME five thousand euros! I should have listened to
Simon and cut you off years ago; maybe you'd have learned
something. You can't keep going on like this! Get a real job and
start earning your keep!"
"No, Sis, look, it's too LATE..." Silvester stopped in mid-
sentence as Sigourney slammed the door in his face. Tears leaked
from his eyes. "Sigourney, PLEASE..."
Shoulders hunched, head bowed, Silvester Lawley turned and trudged
slowly away from his sister's closed door.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Wow! Neat! You guys had a shoot-out here?!" Aditi exclaimed at
the sight of the bullet-holes in the walls of the apartment as
Mireille and Kirika let the girls in. The two girls walked around
the apartment, eyes wide, slowly tracing each bullet hole with a
finger and grinning at each other in utter delight.
"You two can be straightening up while we make dinner," Mireille
said. "Pick up all the chairs and sweep the floor." She and
Kirika carried the groceries they'd picked up on the way into the
kitchen.
Kirika frowned as she peeled potatoes. She'd have to check the
papers Althena had left them, the outline of her personal history.
Could she have been in Amritsar and Surabaya at those times? She
shuddered to think of how the girls would react if they knew.
Mireille glanced over at Kirika worriedly as she stirred the soup.
She put her left arm around Kirika's shoulders, then gently turned
Kirika's head towards her. She leaned forward and kissed Kirika's
forehead, then leaned down to look Kirika in the eyes. "It'll be
all right, Kirika. It was probably the Sarkhovskys themselves.
And we don't know that the Soldats had anything to do with it."
Kirika smiled shyly. "You always know what I'm thinking now. You
never used to."
Mireille grinned, then leaned sideways to breathe gently into
Kirika's ear. "Oh, I think I always had SOME inkling. It's just
that now I pay close attention."
"Mmmm." Kirika shivered, even as her smile grew wider.
Over dinner Mireille questioned the girls further, while Kirika
cast a worried eye over Althena's notes. Aditi and Tai finally
agreed on the month when they'd both been orphaned, and Kirika
sighed in relief. In reply to Mireille's quick glance, she
whispered, "China and America mostly, for training. Two jobs, in
Mexico and Peru."
"So, anyway, you guys just have one bed," Aditi noted. "Are we
sleeping there with you? Or on the couch?"
"Stupid!" Tati hissed to Aditi. "Mireille's sensitive to the 'L'
word! We're not supposed to notice that they sleep together!"
"Oh, for..." Mireille bit off what she'd been about to say.
"Look, girls," Mireille began again. She patted Kirika's hand,
then left her own there on top. "Kirika and I do sleep in the
same bed, not that it's any of your business. I'm sure many women
do so in your home countries, without anyone thinking anything of
it."
Aditi and Tati glanced at each other. Tati ventured carefully,
"So you're NOT sensitive about being called a lesbian?"
Mireille reflexively grit her teeth. Out of the corner of her eye
she noticed Kirika staring worriedly at her. Mireille smiled with
wintry politeness and replied, "We don't need to use such labels
in this house. People love who they love; labels needn't enter
into it."
Tati nodded doubtfully.
Aditi asked curiously, "So is this like, part of the job or
something? Do Tati and I gotta shag each other when we grow up?"
"NO!" Mireille replied quickly.
"Yes," Kirika replied simultaneously.
Mireille stared at Kirika incredulously.
Kirika shrugged apologetically. "Chloe seemed to think so. And
Althena too."
"Their beliefs have nothing to do with it!" Mireille insisted
loudly. "And, anyway, it's not like we're training the girls to
become No... err, like us!"
Kirika nodded, then turned to the girls. "The important thing was
trust. Mireille and I had to learn to trust each other. We
had to guard each other's back, without fear of betrayal. But
that was the easy part."
The two girls both leaned forward, intent.
"Suppose the two of you had separate tasks, and in the middle
of yours you learned that the other was in great danger, walking
into a trap? And you were only half-finished with your task?
Could you trust the other to stay alive while you finished your
job? We had to learn to trust each other that much, and more."
Aditi and Tati glanced at each other uneasily.
"What if you had a fight? If you both said things which hurt the
other, very, very badly? And then you had to go out to fight
together? Could you trust the other as much as before? Could you
trust yourself not to falter? To fight just as hard as ever for
someone who'd just hurt you deeply?"
The girls shifted in their seats.
"Mireille and I learned all of that; we had to. It took us a long
time. But because of that struggle I came to trust Mireille
completely, and then to love her."
The girls were silent. Kirika turned and looked at Mireille, who
was looking back, her eyes moist. "Thank you," Mireille
whispered softly.
- - - - - - - - - -
Sigourney spent most of the next morning at the American
consulate. To her surprise, she was finished before lunch. She
decided to leave the Russian consulate to the afternoon, and
called Mireille, suggesting that they meet to compare notes.
Mireille knew of a cafe convenient to both their locations, easy
walking distance on a nice day like this.
As she got near the cafe, Sigourney's spirits sank. She
recognized the neighborhood now; some of her most ill-treated
clients had lived here. Their stories hinted that illicit
dealings were common hereabouts. As her steps faltered, it
seemed to her first one, then several of the people on the street
seemed to look about themselves furtively. The cafe itself
made her swallow. Much of the clientele looked sufficiently
disreputable that Sigourney would not have entered the place under
other circumstances. Why had Mireille suggested such a place?
But she was seated quickly and her waiter seemed pleasant enough.
She scanned the menu: nouvelle cuisine with Arab touches, it
appeared. And the prices were quite reasonable.
"Excuse me. Would you be Sigourney Lawley?" A smooth-sounding
male voice interrupted her thoughts.
Sigourney looked up to find two men frowning down at her. "That
depends. Who's asking?"
"A smart ass. Let me loosen her up," the big man in the rumpled
suit said to the shorter, snappily-dressed man, cracking his
knuckles.
"Not yet," his companion replied. "Miss Lawley, your brother
Silvester owes our organization eighteen thousand euros. We have
your name on record as co-signer on the note, and we want our
money back."
"WHAT? I never co-signed any note for Silvester! He owes me
money himself! He just wastes any money get gets on liquor,
women, and gambling!"
"We want our money back," the dandy repeated.
Glancing around, Sigourney found most of the cafe's clientele
were carefully ignoring the contretemps. The staff was nowhere to
be seen.
"I signed no note," Sigourney said emphatically. "If Silvester
owes you money, that is no concern of mine."
"Break two fingers," the dandy said to the bigger man, nodding.
The bigger man took a step forward. With a dismayed sense of
unreality Sigourney realized that the men were seriously intent
on injuring her. She spasmed in panic, then opened her mouth to
shriek.
"One moment, gentlemen," came an amused voice from behind the two
men. "I believe the lady is waiting for me."
Sigourney's eyes widened. She tried to gasp out a warning, but
fear still froze her vocal chords.
The two thugs had barely begun to turn around when Mireille
stepped quickly forward, brushing past the smaller man, her left
elbow slamming into his unprotected throat. The man choked and
staggered, gasping, even as Mireille ducked a punch thrown at her
by the bigger man, then stepped inside his guard. Mireille kneed
him viciously in the crotch. As he bent over, turning green,
Mireille took firm hold of the gun inside her handbag, and struck
his temple carefully but hard. The solid 'thunk' was quite
satisfactory, and the man slowly collapsed.
Mireille turned just as the dandy was recovering. She grabbed
his collar and thrust him up against the wall, then held him
there with her left forearm across his throat, her right holding
her handbag against the side of his head.
"What did they say they wanted with you, Ms. Lawley?" Mireille
asked without taking her eyes off her prey.
"H-he said that my brother Silvester owed them money, and he
wanted me to pay them back!" Sigourney noted thankfully that the
indignation she still felt at their demands seemed to be driving
the fear away. "I would never co-sign a note for Silvester! The
whole family wrote him off years ago!"
"Loan-sharking? Who do you work for, then, dirtbag?" Mireille
asked the man she held against the wall. "Not LaForge...
Girard Tufay's mob? His district, but not his style."
The man's eyes widened. "How did...?" Mireille frowned and
leaned forward. The man started again. "Tufay's dead. Georgie
Renault runs things now."
"And the new guy's got big plans," Mireille said in disgust.
"Well, you take your poor excuse for muscle here and clear out.
You tell Georgie he's to keep his hands off Ms. Lawley here. I'd
better not see either of you bothering her again, understand?
And advise Monsieur Renault to go back to playing these things
Girard Tufay's way; he'll last a lot longer."
Mireille released the man, but kept her guard up until both men
were gone. Then she grimaced slightly and rubbed the bandage
on her thigh. "Five days old and still bothering me," she
muttered under her breath.
She was just sitting down at Sigourney's table when the latter's
cellphone rang. She answered. "Sigourney Lawley. Yes?" She
paused to listen. "Simon? Yes, yes, two men did confront me and
threaten me. They said they were collecting a debt owed by
Silvester. No, I'm all right, I'm fine, you don't have to come-"
She pulled the cellphone away from her ear slowly, looking
bemused. "That was my older brother," she explained, "Simon
Lawley. He's an inspector with the Paris police. Somehow he
heard about the attack. He hung up on me and is probably on his
way here to make sure I'm safe."
Sigourney looked around slowly, wondering how Simon could have
heard so quickly. That answer came quickly when she spotted her
waiter, smiling sheepishly and bowing to her from the doorway to
the cafe's interior.
"Inspector Lawley?" Mireille asked with a bemused expression. "I
should have realized you were probably related."
"You know Simon?"
"We've met," Mireille remarked drily. "I can't say I care to
repeat the experience; perhaps we should get down to business?"
The two women quickly brought each other up to date. Mireille
had spent the morning researching Aditi's and Tati's background in
Indonesia and India. Both surnames turned out to be too common
for an Internet search to come up with anything definitive, but
Mireille had managed to locate and hire local private
investigators in both Amritsar and Surabaya. She would have their
reports in a few days.
Sigourney nodded, then gave her own report. "The American
consulate confirmed that the girls' parents were permanent
residents of the United States, but the girls are not. They also
said that the parents' American employer got them their visas and
sponsored them for green cards. There is no trace of any
American relatives in their records.
"They wouldn't tell me the name of the parents' employer, but
something funny happened. An assistant commercial attache came
and ushered me into a private room, then asked me about how the
parents died. I told him what you told me, but he wasn't
satisfied. He offered to find out about any relatives of the
parents in America if I agreed to arrange for him to talk to you
and the girls; I hope you don't mind."
"I DO mind," Mireille replied, dismayed, "especially if you gave
him my name, but it's done now. The girls' story would have been
sufficient. We could have briefed the girls to keep Kirika and I
out of their story." Mireille grimaced, then glanced at her
watch. "I think we're finished, and I have other places to be.
I'll be in touch, Ms. Lawley."
Mireille had not been gone five minutes when Inspector Simon
Lawley came rushing up to Sigourney's table. Simon was tall and
thin, with a slim moustache. His suit had clearly been
fashionable when new, but had seen lots of use. "Sigourney?
Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Simon. You really didn't have to rush down here in
such a hurry. I'm sure you had more important things to do."
"What happened?" he demanded. "The waiter who called said you
were being threatened."
"I was, by two men working for a Georgie Renault, apparently in
the loan-sharking business. They said Silvester owes them money."
"And they came to you for it?" Simon said in astonishment. "That
mob's old boss, Tufay, would never have done anything like that!
What could Renault be thinking?"
"That's just what my client wondered," Sigourney replied in
amusement. "She managed to persuade the two men that they had
better places to be. I understand you've met her: Mireille
Bouquet?"
"Bouquet? Mireille Bouquet? You're representing her?" Inspector
Lawley sat up quickly. Sigourney thought he seemed both puzzled
and alarmed.
"I'm just establishing custody for two lost children she found.
We're hardly friends," she said, then added thoughtfully,
"although Charlotte seems to want to be."
"Charlotte likes her?" Inspector Lawley looked surprised, then
frowned. "I'd have thought... Well, never mind. It's your
business, not mine, as you've warned me often enough, but please
be very careful. For someone who's never been arrested, Ms.
Bouquet has a formidable reputation in the underworld."
Sigourney tapped one fingernail on the table while she digested
this revelation. Unpleasant, but was it any of her business?
Yes, it was; she was on Mireille's retainer now, so Mireille was
her client. And, more importantly, there were the two girls to
consider. "Ok, Simon. You brought it up, so you can just keep
talking. What is her reputation, and what are the facts behind
it?"
He sighed. "Well, first of all, there's her family. Lauren
Bouquet, Mireille's father, led the top crime syndicate on Corsica
until about eleven years ago, when the whole family was murdered.
The killer was never found. Mireille and her uncle, Claude
Feyder, were the only family members to survive."
Ah, Sigourney thought. That's why the girls' story struck such
a chord with her.
Simon sat back, looking at the sky, sounding pensive. "Many
rumors circulate in the underworld; most eventually reach the
ears of the police. Underworld rumor credits your Ms. Bouquet
with the deaths of several people, two and three years ago now,
whom the world will definitely NOT miss." Simon chuckled darkly
for a moment. "I am unsure which, if any, of these rumors to
credit, but if all are true, the lady deserves a medal."
"There you go again, Simon. You're supposed to uphold the law!"
Sigourney glared at her brother. Why did he say things like that?
"My job is protecting people, Sigourney," Simon replied mildly.
"The law is a means to that end."
Sigourney impatiently waved away the old argument. "Okay, she
has an underworld reputation because of her family and some wild
rumors. What else?"
Simon pursed his lips and lowered his voice. "Do you remember the
series of gangland killings a few months ago? The last murder
was of Ms. Bouquet's uncle, Claude Feyder. Ballistics and
fingerprint tests proved that Feyder and his men, rather than
being the latest victims in the series, were in fact the
perpetrators of all of the earlier ones. So her uncle was
responsible for the predicament from which she saved you today, a
nice irony: he killed this gang's old, sensible boss, Tufay, thus
promoting the reckless Renault, who ordered the attack on you."
"And what does this have to do with Mireille?" Sigourney's brow
wrinkled.
"I questioned Ms. Bouquet myself after Feyder's murder, out of
curiosity, given the rumors. She denied any knowledge of her
uncle's activities, and claimed to have only seen him once
recently. I am sure she was lying, however. Police instinct, not
something I could put my finger on. To my ear she sounded
genuinely sorry that her uncle was dead, but not surprised."
Sigourney frowned. "Do you think she did it, then? Killed her
own uncle?"
Simon frowned. "I believe her grief at the loss of her uncle was
genuine. And she had no motive we could find. Nevertheless,
and without the slightest bit of evidence, I find myself convinced
of her responsibility."
Sigourney stared at her brother, horrified.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Bouquet? Mireille Bouquet? You sure it was her?" Georgie
Renault stared at his underlings.
"Two waiters at the joint identified her," the dandy explained.
"She took us by surprise, boss. We coulda handled her otherwise."
"Rumors have swirled about that dame for years..." Georgie stared
into space, thinking. "And she's related to that damn Feyder.
Mebbe she's thinking of finishing what he started? You used to
work for a Corsican mob, Etienne; what d'you think?"
"Girard would have left Mam'selle Bouquet alone," the aging
advisor murmured. "There's no profit in it."
"Yeah? Well I ain't waiting around for that broad to come gunning
for me. I'm taking her down hard. Marc," Renault pointed at the
dandy. "You take Ahmed with you and track that dame down. Follow
her. I wanna know when she's stationary. You call me right away
when you've found her, and again when she's where we can reach
her, got it?"
Renault turned to the bigger man. "Jurgen, this is your chance to
get even. You go round up five other guys, see? Big guys.
You're gonna ride around inna van all day waitin' for the call.
When you get it, you put the boot in on her, but good, get me?
Break something. Make sure she remembers it good."
Etienne asked, "What about the Lawleys? Silvester and his sister?
We're still owed the money."
Renault ruminated. "Gotta send a message," he muttered to
himself. "Let people know I mean business. Hmmm... guess we'll
just hafta make that pretty-boy do a job or two for us."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Wouldn't you WANT to live with us if we had a bigger place?"
Sigourney asked Aditi and Tati plaintively.
"We can't afford a bigger one, Sigi," Charlotte murmured.
"We wanna live with Kirika!" Aditi proclaimed, hugging one of
Kirika's arms. "We're her 'prentices! She needs us! We need
her!"
The sun had just finished setting as the five strolled slowly
through the empty streets. Sigourney glanced around at her
surroundings, frowning in disapproval. Did these women always
choose such disreputable neighborhoods for a rendezvous?
"How was your tour of Paris this morning?" Charlotte asked Tati,
trying to change the subject.
"It was GREAT!" Aditi interjected. "No boring museums or dusty
old churches for us! We got to see the REAL Paris!"
"Oh? What DID you see, then?" asked Sigourney with a tentatively
disapproving frown.
"Underworld hangouts, a couple of illicit gunshops, the best
people to see about underworld news..." Tati recalled.
"We went down into the sewers at one point," Aditi added. "Kirika
taught us how to hold a gun and shoot."
"We weren't supposed to mention that," Tati replied reprovingly.
"Oh! And there was that bar where all the retired spies hang
out!" Aditi exclaimed in recollection.
"And the dojo where we can learn kung fu!"
To Sigourney's glare, Kirika looked apologetic. "I'm sorry,
but I couldn't think of anything else to show them. What else is
there to do in Paris?"
Sigourney stared. Charlotte pursed her lips in amusement.
The three women and two girls entered the deserted, dimly-lit
square where Mireille was supposed to meet them only to find
Mireille on the ground, curled up, with six large men kicking
and cursing her. Sigourney gasped in fright; Charlotte grabbed
the children and pushed them behind her.
Kirika's eyes narrowed and went cold. She moved.
Sigourney could barely follow Kirika's movements as she burst
into the middle of the melee, landing with both feet on the side
of the standing knee of the nearest kicking thug, who promptly
fell over with a scream of agony. Less than an eyeblink later,
Kirika had drawn a gun holstered in a second man's armpit and shot
a third man in the kneecap with it. Two men on opposite sides of
her threw tremendous punches at her; she ducking both with so
little margin that the wind mussed her hair. Each man staggered
as Kirika darted forward, under two more grasping arms, just in
time to intercept another man trying to bring a Beretta to bear.
A subtle nudge to the inside of the man's arm sent his shot into
the heart of the man just behind Kirika (who'd been about to
plunge a knife into her back) even as her own second shot killed
the man in front of her.
As she slowly swung her gun to bear on the nearest of the groaning
and cursing bodies on the ground around her, Kirika stated in a
flat tone, "You hurt Mireille."
"Kirika, I'm fine. I'm okay," Mireille said hastily as she slowly
and painfully sat up from where she lay. "That's enough. We need
a few questions answered."
Sigourney's jaw worked a couple of times without any sound coming
out. Unbelievable! Five seconds, maybe, if that? For six men?
And Kirika was only half the size of the smallest of the six!
Charlotte's "very, very good" didn't cut it; this was flat-out
impossible by all the rules Sigourney knew. And she'd represented
enough battered women to feel that she knew a lot.
Still expressionless, Kirika regarded Mireille unblinkingly.
Looking up at Kirika, Mireille smiled. "Won't you help me up,
Kirika dear?"
Kirika blinked once, twice, her eyes changing subtlely, then
she put the gun she held away and helped Mireille up. "Are you
sure nothing's broken?" she murmured.
"Bruised ribs, nothing more. I did my best to ride it out once
they had me down," Mireille replied.
Slowly standing up straight, Mireille put on a bright, sarcastic
smile for the four living men on the ground. "Well, gentlemen,
your ambush appears to have failed. I guess you'll have to go
back and confess as much to your boss-man Georgie Renault, won't
you?" Mireille watched carefully to see how the men's expressions
changed when she spoke Renault's name. Good; mild surprise or
consternation that she knew; nothing else.
"Let's see; two dead and two crippled out of six men, and you
don't even have an intimidated woman to show for it." Mireille
slowly shook her head in mock sympathy. "I don't envy you boys
Georgie's reaction." This time the surviving men glanced uneasily
at each other. Yes, these men were definitely Renault's.
Abruptly, Mireille's tone and eyes went hard. "I warned Renault
once. He didn't listen. You men paid the price. If he attacks
me or anyone under my protection again, it won't be his men
paying the price next time."
Under her breath, Kirika whispered, "Are you sure about this,
Mireille? Letting them live?"
Mireille tilted her head to indicate the girls, Charlotte, and
Sigourney, all witnesses, and ones whose opinion Mireille found
herself caring about. "They weren't all of them trying hard,"
Mireille murmured back, "which may be why nothing seems to be
broken. Better to make sure the threat gets back to the man who
gave the orders."
Sigourney surveyed Mireille's ripped clothing and bruises and
Kirika's disheveled state, then turned to Charlotte and said in
an uncompromising tone, "The girls are staying with us tonight."
Charlotte acquiesced meekly, knowing THAT tone from experience.
In response to Sigourney's challenging stare, Mireille merely
nodded. "It's just as well, girls," she added. "You really will
be safer there, I think. Just make sure the door is double-bolted
tonight."
Sigourney felt her pride wounded a bit when she realized that
Mireille's last comment had been addressed to the girls.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Charlotte, that woman KILLED two men right in front of the girls!
You saw it yourself! How could I possibly have left two children
in their care?!"
"Yeah! That was SO NEAT!" Aditi interjected. "WAM! POW! BLAM!"
Aditi mimed kicking Tati on the side of the knee; Tati responded
by hissing "not now!" out of the side of her mouth, even as she
grabbed Aditi's foot and heaved upwards.
"PLEASE, girls!" Charlotte insisted. "Calm down! You're not
helping! Can't you PLEASE just sit down and be quiet for a bit?
We don't have room for you to rough-house!"
Charlotte turned to Sigourney and continued, "Look, Sigi. I
understand what you're feeling. But what else could they have
done? Sure, if Kirika was some great hulking brute, maybe she
could have immobilized those men without permanent harm, but she's
not. She can't give men twice her size any leeway and expect to
win."
"Then she shouldn't be fighting at all!" Sigourney expostulated.
"And Mireille would now be in the hospital, or maybe dead."
"Violence never solves anything!" A part of Sigourney wondered if
she still believed that. She'd always considered the bruised and
bloody faces of her clients, battered by their husbands, to be
sufficient indictment of all violence. But if the women could
have fought back effectively, really protected themselves?
"Did Kirika start it? No. Do you think Mireille did? I don't.
Those men jumped her. THEY'RE the bad guys. Kirika only did what
she had to do to save her."
Sigourney frowned. "I'm not saying those gangsters weren't bad
guys. I'm just saying that Ms. Bouquet and Ms. Yuumura aren't
any better. They're ALL bad, and children shouldn't be exposed
to people like them!"
"The girls WERE exposed to them. They saw everything we did,"
Charlotte replied. "Look: ask the girls about the Basque
terrorists sometime. That was worse than tonight, much worse;
the girls lost their fingernails to those men. Just DON'T ask
them about the man in Bordeaux, please."
Sigourney turned to the girls, who sat entwined together on the
floor, rolling their eyes at the adults' conversation. "Girls,
weren't you scared tonight? Aren't you afraid of something like
that happening again? Well, I suspect such scenes follow Mireille
and Kirika around like lost, lonely puppies. If you stick with
them, you'll just get sucked into violence over and over again!"
"Better'n THIS crap," Aditi muttered darkly.
- - - - - - - - - -
The next morning, Sigourney contemplated the other three during
breakfast. She still had research to do, and she couldn't take
the two girls along. Charlotte would just have to baby-sit them;
she was NOT going to admit defeat this early by asking either of
those two killers to help, no matter how good they were at baby-
sitting!
"Charlotte, what did you have scheduled this morning?"
"Nothing much, until the new term starts."
"Good. Why don't you give the girls a real tour of Paris? The
one they didn't get yesterday?"
"BOR-ING! Museums and Churches and stuff!" Aditi proclaimed.
"Sigi, I can do that today, but I won't be able to do it every
day. You'll have to find another solution," Charlotte observed
gently. "Or you can always just ask Kirika."
"NO! Not... yet," Sigourney amended. "But I will figure
something out! I promise! Soon."
- - - - - - - - - -
Georgie Renault glared at Silvester Lawley, who stood, shifting
nervously, in front of Georgie's desk. "Those dames are costing
me a lot of money, Mr. Lawley. What are you going to do about
it?"
"Mr. Renault, sir, I'll plead with my sister for the money.
She'll see reason this time; she has to!"
"I got bills to pay here! Two funerals, Lawley! Your debt just
went up. You now owe me thirty thousand, and tomorrow it'll be
forty if I don't see some progress on your part."
Behind him, Renault's elderly advisor cleared his throat.
"Well?" Georgie asked without turning.
Etienne LeFevre shrugged, then replied in a low tone. "Sir, I
really suggest you just kneecap Mr. Lawley here and forget about
everything else. We can't afford another loss like yesterday's.
The Bouquets are not remembered in Corsica for their forbearance
or forgiveness."
Georgie ruminated. "I'll look weak. The other gangs might try
to move in."
"Few, if any, are spoiling for a fight right now."
"I would be, in their shoes." The thought of those other gangs
possibly thinking HIS gang weak stiffened his conviction. No way
he'd ever let that happen. "Send the rest of our guys out again.
Different orders. Snatch the two kids and bring 'em here, but
stay clear of Bouquet and her friend, got it?"
Etienne's face grew morose, but he nodded and departed.
"Mr. Lawley, I agree you need to go see your sister again, but
not for another few hours. And when you do go, you're gonna
carry a message from me."
- - - - - - - - - -
It was late morning when Charlotte, Aditi, and Tati left Notre
Dame de Paris on foot, crossing the Seine to the Rive Gauche and
turning right towards the Musee d'Orsay.
"And if we'd seen that 'ol Hunchback up there, I would've just
kicked him in the crotch! And then pushed him off the top of the
Tower!" Aditi went on to Tati, miming her actions as she spoke.
"That's just a story, you know," Tati replied, rolling her eyes.
"Hah! I bet you'd have been scared to death if he'd been up
there!"
"Oh YEAH?! Well, what about... umm... the Phantom of the Opera!
What if we meet HIM?" Tati demanded, clenching a fist.
Aditi grinned. "Then I'll smash his mask into pieces! And stomp
on the inside of his foot!"
"Ooo, yeah, Kirika said that one hurt," Tati replied. "Good
move!"
Trailing behind, Charlotte was torn between being amused and being
appalled. The two girls sounded like boys their age! If only the
violence in their lives was purely imaginary...
None of the three noticed the black, unmarked Citroen sedan behind
them, moving slowly up the street in their direction.
- - - - - - - - - -
Silvester Lawley rang his sister's doorbell. When it opened, he
found himself looking at his sister's furious glare. "What is it
now, Silvester? This had better be good, and it had better NOT be
another plea for money."
Silvester's resentment flared. None of this would have happened
if Sigourney had been reasonable about things! All he'd asked
for was a small loan, no different from what she'd given him in
the past!
Silvester pushed Sigourney out of the way and strode into her
flat. Seating himself on her loveseat, he leisurely lit his last
good cigar as he took his time replying to her question,
enjoying the way she screamed and sputtered at him helplessly.
Blowing a stream of smoke out into her face, he began to speak.
"Mr. Renault is through playing games, Sis. His men have snatched
your precious Charlotte and those two girls, and are holding them.
Now, you just come up with the money, and they'll all be set free,
with no harm done to anyone, see? He told me to give you twenty-
four hours. The delivery instructions are complicated, so I have
them written down here."
Sigourney's heart plummeted. No, he just _couldn't_ have...
"Silvester, please, you can't be involved in this, the girls
haven't done anything, Charlotte hasn't done anything..."
Silvester stood, smiling nastily. "Maybe you'd have more money
for your brother if that damn hussy wasn't spending it all!"
Charlotte reacted as if slapped. "Silvester, Char has nothing to
do with it! She makes her own money, unlike you! I cut you off
for your own good!"
Silvester trembled with rage. "I'M your brother, Sis! Not her!
I'M the one you swore to take care of when we were kids! You
broke that promise, damn you! And now she and those kids are
going to pay for it unless you come across!" Silvester strode
through the door and slammed it on the way out.
- - - - - - - - - -
"The note says that Ms. Bouquet, Ms. Yuumura, and I are to deliver
the money, and that we're to come unarmed." Sigourney put her
head in her hands, wondering once again how all this could have
happened.
Sigourney, her brother Simon, Mireille, and Kirika sat around the
former's apartment, Simon and Sigourney on the loveseat, Mireille
in the armchair again, with Kirika perched on one arm. Mireille
periodically darted cautious glances at Simon Lawley, who
returned them with an amused, imperturbable smile.
"Kirika and I can put up the money, if you don't have that amount
handy, Ms. Lawley," Mireille offered.
"That's very kind of you," Sigourney admitted. "They're asking
for more than Charlotte's and my combined savings."
"One thing I am not clear on," Mireille said carefully.
"Inspector Lawley, are you here in your official capacity?"
Simon glanced at Sigourney. "Not as yet," he admitted. "Sigi
called me on my direct line. Officially, this situation has not
yet been reported to the police. I am not at all certain that
doing so would improve Charlotte's and the girls' chances."
Sigourney started. "But the law..."
Mireille snorted.
Simon interrupted his sister. "Sigi, I've handled a number of
kidnapping and hostage cases, most successfully. I've learned
that you have to be flexible in these situations."
Sigourney frowned at her brother. "More of your pragmatism?"
"Our normal procedure here would be to send in the money with the
requested messengers, in this case you, Ms. Bouquet, and Ms.
Yuumura. We would also have a number of plainclothes men
shadowing the messengers. Then, after the exchange is made, and
regardless of whether the kidnap victims are freed, we would then
follow the kidnappers' representative."
"But in this case..." Mireille prompted the Inspector to continue.
"Well, for one, Renault is requesting the two of you specifically,
in addition to Sigi, in spite of your reputation. Why? It must
be a trap, no? He wishes to harm, perhaps kill, the two of you."
Mireille shrugged. "Certainly it's a trap; what of it?"
"And do you wish to be shadowed by plainclothesmen under those
circumstances?"
Mireille raised an eyebrow. "Personally? No, I would prefer it
if your men stayed behind. Well behind. Do I have a choice in
the matter?"
Inspector Lawley smiled and shrugged. "I have not been officially
informed yet, have I? Now, Renault's men will undoubtedly search
you for weapons well before you are conveyed to him."
"They won't find any." Mireille's smile put Sigourney in mind of
a shark.
"As you say." The inspector spread his arms in agreement, then
paused, considering, assuming a faintly amused expression. "There
must be many members of Renault's gang who are very unhappy with
his recent decisions. Such a situation often leads to violence,
even shootouts, within gangs. Should Renault's men turn up dead,
then, in the absence of witnesses, we police will doubtless decide
that the gang members all shot one another."
Mireille nodded. "Doubtless you are correct. We will do our
best to see that Sigourney, Charlotte, and the girls are safe.
I regret being unable to make a similar promise about your younger
brother."
Simon's face hardened. "Silvester has dug his own grave this
time, I am afraid. I will mourn the boy he used to be, but not
the man he has become."
- - - - - - - - - -
"Now, we're SUPPOSED to be able to get out of these ropes,
right? Since we're apprentice adventurers 'n all." Aditi
struggled with her bonds. To one side of her, Tati struggled as
well. Charlotte Merril, on the other hand, had given them a few
tentative tugs and then given up, composing herself and whispering
in prayer. All three sat on a wooden floor in an empty upstairs
room, hands bound behind their backs and tied to a radiator, and
feet tied together in front.
"I guess it doesn't ALWAYS work like it does on 'Jackie Chan
Adventures', huh?" Tati replied.
"Well, how would Kirika free herself?"
"She'd probably... UHHH!" Tati grunted as her latest attempt
succeeded only in wrenching her left arm. "...use some ancient
meditation technique and summon berserker strength."
"Or maybe... just another inch..." Aditi murmured, grimacing,
"she'd dislocate her thumb on purpose and then slide her hand
straight out."
"Girls, your hands are getting bloody," Charlotte noted. "And
we all SAW how Kirika got out of a situation like this; she sawed
her bonds against a wooden bolster for over twenty-four hours,
hardly stopping at all. Do you think you're going to match that?"
"Well, we have to try, don't we?," Aditi replied matter-of-factly.
Tati nodded agreement.
"WHY do you have to try? You say you're their apprentices, but
I haven't heard them agree to such an arrangement. Can't you just
try to be normal girls?"
Aditi slumped for a moment, then glanced at Tati, you looked back
sadly. "No," Aditi murmured. "We can't. We're not normal
girls."
"We can't ever be normal girls again," Tati echoed, her eyes
filled with tears. "Not after what we've done."
"You can be whatever you want!" Charlotte insisted. "You two are
still very young!"
"Then what we WANT to be..." Aditi began, resuming her efforts to
get out of her bonds.
"...is what THEY are," Tati finished. "Maybe that'll make it all
okay."
"And if it doesn't?" Charlotte asked.
"Then at least we won't be alone," Aditi replied grimly.
"Hey, I think..." Tati groaned in pain. "It's giving."
A few minutes later Tati produced her right hand, blood trickling
from her wrist, the base of her thumb looking purple. "My thumb
feels numb."
"Let it rest a bit, then try giving it a shake or two," Aditi
suggested, redoubling her own efforts. After another half-hour
she had duplicated Tati's feat, but meanwhile Tati had found
sensation slow to return to her hand.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Welcome, welcome, ladies!" Georgie Renault smirked. "Search 'em
again, boys. Real thoroughly this time."
Mireille, Kirika, and Sigourney stood still, feet apart, hands
behind their head, while hands groped their bodies. Sigourney
found the sensation almost unbearable, and shifted uneasily
despite the guns pointed in their direction. Nevertheless, she
noted that Mireille and Kirika were being 'searched' far more
thoroughly, and that neither seemed in any way flustered by the
procedure.
Etienne walked in while the search was still going on and stopped,
assuming a brief, disapproving expression at the sight before him.
Mireille's eyes widened at the sight of him. Etienne gave his
head an almost imperceptible shake, then assumed an impassive
demeanor and approached Renault.
"Nobody followed them," he informed his boss.
Georgie nodded. Things seemed to be going according to plan.
"Send Marc to check on the hostages," he directed. "And stick the
Lawley woman in with them."
"My brother said you'd free everybody if we brought the money!"
Sigourney said sharply.
"We'll see," Georgie said briefly. "Right now I got business
with these two."
Etienne grimaced, but nodded. He gestured for Sigourney to
precede him out the door, then followed her.
"Now put your hands behind your backs!" Georgie ordered, with a
pleased smirk.
"Now," Kirika whispered, just loud enough for Mireille to hear.
- - - - - - - - - -
When the door handle began to turn, Aditi and Tati hastily thrust
their free hands back behind themselves. So far they'd been
unable to free their other hands or their feet, but Tati had been
able to loosen the ropes binding Charlotte's feet a little.
Sigourney walked in, followed closely by a small dandy of a
hoodlum. The Beretta he carried in his right hand lent him an
authority his stature lacked.
"Char! You're okay!" Sigourney rushed over and crouched down
beside Charlotte, wrapping her arms around her.
"Keep your hands where I can see them!" The hood moved slowly
across the room, eyes firmly fixed on Sigourney and the hostages,
until he got to the room's one window. Then he carefully moved
the window shade out a couple of inches and gave a quick peek
sideways outside the window.
Satisfied, he swept his gaze back to the four hostages. At that
moment a burst of gunfire broke out somewhere downstairs. With an
oath, the hood turned from the window and moved quickly for the
door. Charlotte, holding her breath, raised her legs as much as
the ropes permitted just as the man was stepping over them. He
tripped and fell on his face, tumbling over the girls' legs.
Instantly Aditi and Tati reached forward with their free hands.
Aditi grabbed the Beretta in the man's right hand and wrenched it
away from the stunned man's grasp. Tati flipped up the man's
sweater and removed a second gun, which had been thrust through
the man's waistband in the small of his back.
Charlotte blinked. She'd had no idea that the second gun was
there.
The hood raised his head to see the barrels of his own guns
pointed straight at him.
"Do not speak," Aditi said carefully, using what little French
she'd learned. "Or you are dead."
"Move slow. To the wall. Stay there," Tati added.
The hood made no move for a few seconds, apparently considering
his chances, glancing at the door, then the guns, then the
girls' eyes. Something in the girls' gaze held him, however; he
looked searchingly at Aditi, then switched to Tati and held her
gaze equally long. Slowly his expression changed, from contempt
to grudging respect to something approaching fear.
Abruptly his nerve crumbled. He nodded, lowered his eyes and
began to slowly back away.
Sigourney stared at the girls. She didn't know what to think.
Girls this age shouldn't be holding guns! They shouldn't have be
capable of staring down a vicious hoodlum, one who'd frightened
her so much in the cafe. But they were. They were prepared to
fire those guns, too; suddenly she was certain of it. And she
found herself inexplicably glad that they were.
- - - - - - - - - -
Kirika spun. The man coming up behind them, hands full of rope,
had a gun on his left side in a shoulder holster; she'd seen it
out of the corner of her eye. Kirika had it out of the holster
and was shooting before anyone could react. Her first target was
the man covering them on her right, three meters away. By this
time the man with the rope had begun to react, trying to wrap her
up in the rope he carried. Her second shot took him through the
brain. She ducked down and sideways to her right.
At the same moment, Mireille threw herself sideways, slamming the
top of her head into the chin of the man who'd been covering them
on her right, and knocking him to the floor. With both hands she
grabbed the man's gun hand, bringing it to bear on one of
Georgie's bodyguards and pulling the trigger.
"Kill them! Kill them both!" Georgie screamed to his men as he
ducked out the room's rear door, pulling Silvester out with him.
Grabbing the latter's lapels, he shoved his face into Silvester's,
his face red with rage. "You get upstairs to the hostages!" he
hissed. "You tell Marc to kill all of them, INCLUDING your
sister," he hissed. "You got that? And if he balks, then YOU DO
IT!"
Shivering, Silvester gulped and slunk off. Georgie turned back
and glanced into the large room carefully. The Bouquet bitch was
now UNDER Jacques, damn it, using his dead body as a shield as she
picked off another of his men while lying on her back. The
oriental frail was in the back of the room, somehow weaving her
way between three of his men who were all trying to kill her.
Damn it all! Didn't ANY of his men know how to fight!?
Pulling his own gun, Georgie eased himself a little further out
from the cover of the door. Both his bodyguards were dead, as
were the two guys who'd been covering the broads. He himself
still had no good shot at Bouquet, but the Jap was right out there
in the open. His guys must be idiots not to be able to hit her.
Taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger twice, not noticing
until just then, when she moved out of the way, that she'd been in
line with the outside door, which his last two men, the outside
watch, had just opened. Both men fell, wounded.
Mireille's next two shots, one through Georgie's head and one
through his heart, prevented any further contemplation of his
men's competency.
Kirika finished the last newcomer through the doorway in the same
moment.
Both women paused a moment, listening. Kirika then moved next to
a front window and peered carefully outside. Mireille carefully
and quietly pushed aside the dead body she'd been using as a
shield and stood, moving over towards the doorway at the back of
the room.
Etienne LeFevre chose that moment to walk back in. He stopped
abruptly as he realized that he had both women's guns pointed at
him.
"Etienne LeFevre, I remember you," Mireille said. "My father
always said you were the most loyal man he ever knew. Your new
boss is dead now, as is the rest of his gang. There's nothing
left here for you to be loyal to. Give it up; go back to
Corsica."
Slowly, sadly, Etienne LeFevre shook his head. "I would have died
happily fighting for your father if I'd had the chance, Mam'selle,
but that chance never came." He shrugged. "I don't know that I
could enjoy life in Corsica any more. Too much water under the
bridge since then. I'm sorry, Mam'selle."
Etienne LeFevre reached for his gun, knowing he'd never make it.
- - - - - - - - - -
Upstairs, the doorknob turned again. Silvester, wild-eyed and
frenzied, pushed his way into the room, his left hand holding a
gun pointed straight down. He barely seemed aware he was holding
it. Nevertheless, Aditi and Tati both shifted their aim to cover
him.
"Silvester! For God's sake put the gun down!" Sigourney cried.
"Don't make the girls shoot!"
"No! He told me to kill you, Sis. To kill you all," Silvester
said hoarsely. "I didn't want this! This wasn't supposed to
happen! You were supposed to give me the money." Silvester took
one slow step towards Sigourney, then another, right hand out,
pleading. Sigourney wet her lips, uncertain what she could say,
what he would hear.
"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GIVE ME THE MONEY!" Silvester screamed,
abruptly raising both hands to the ceiling.
"Drop it now!" Aditi and Tati yelled. Both girls' fingers began
to tighten on their triggers. Next to them, Charlotte held her
breath, flinching.
"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS GIVE ME..." Silvester
began lowering both hands to point at Sigourney.
Two guns spoke. Silvester slowly began to slump to the floor.
"...the money..."
"No! Silvester... WHY? Why didn't you just drop the gun?!"
Sigourney broke down crying.
"I'm here, Sigi. I'm here," Charlotte murmured sadly.
Sigourney barely noticed Kirika's arrival or the freeing of the
girls and Charlotte. She let herself be led downstairs and out of
the building, mourning her lost brother, remembering their
childhood together.
"I'll see her home," Charlotte murmured to the other four, without
quite looking them in the eyes. "She needs to be alone."
"Wait," Sigourney said, clutching at Charlotte. Looking up at the
other four, she pulled herself together. "Umm, thanks. Thank
you for saving me, all of you. And for saving Charlotte."
Sigourney licked her lips. She had to say more. "I think I
understand now why Charlotte says that the girls need you two.
I'd still like them to have as normal a life as we can arrange,
but I won't try to come between you any more."
Aditi jumped for joy. Tati elbowed her, but didn't even try to
conceal her own grin.
"I need... a few days, I think. To come to terms. But, after
that, I want, I'd like... to be friends. If that's okay with
you."
"Friends," Mireille murmured consideringly, as she glanced at
Kirika, who nodded. "Yes. We'd like that."
End.
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