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.