XF: Opening Salvo "Kidnapping the Kidnappers"

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Remy and Betsy capture two of the people involved in Romany's capture. They've been trained to resist torture and psychic reading. Unfortunately for them, Remy's the creative type...



"Who is dis one?"

"Darius Magnus. Owns the bookshop up on Kings Cross."

"Darius?"

"Originally Arthur Cooper. Hmm, former public servant. Degrees in History and Accounting." Betsy grinned wickedly at Remy. "Worked in insurance for years before realizing he had earned a starring role in A Life More Ordinary."

"Bein. He one of de movers in Romany's little coven?"

"Peripheral, but still involved. Based on the profile, he's a target."

"I hate waiting." Remy leaned back in his car seat and sipped his coffee. They had been following several members of Romany's coven for the last few days, after some of them had gone missing. Wisdom thought it was someone following up on Romany, taking the people she might have spoken with. Considering the vast lack of other information they'd turned up, using the coven members as unwitting bait seemed the best idea. At least Braddock knew where to get the best coffee.

"Do you feel up to this?" Betsy asked, her eyes remained fixed on his legs. She removed the lid on her coffee and blew on it to cool the scalding liquid. Betsy took stole a glance at him before taking a
cautious sip. "I can stay here if you want to take a breather? Stretch, a bit."

"Non, Remy fine." He said absently, watching the street. Darius was supposed to be at the house on the corner, and he was sure that if he could get the information, anyone else could too. "Think dey going to
just take him off de street?"

"Not likely," Betsy replied, looking from Remy to the house. "They'd probably wait until the street traffic winds down a bit and make their move as he's heading into work in the morning. Or pull off a snatchas he's locking up the shoppe at night." There was a slight creep of panic riding up her spine and her eyes flitted toward the left window on the second story. "Shit! Or they could do something completely unexpected like yank him while we're sitting out here actually trying to figure how they're going to yank 'im." Already reaching for the handle, Betsy bolted from the car and ran toward the front door.

"Betts! Son of a--" Remy stumbled out of the side door, cursing as his leg went out under him and nearly spilling him on to the pavement. Betsy was far past him and at the door. The sound of breaking glass carried from the upstairs, and one kick from Betsy had the door of the hinges.

Rather than try and limp after her, Remy instead went to the side of the house. The sound of a van starting sent him back to the car, hobbling painfully.

~They have him,~ Betsy sent, the curse heard loud and clear through the psi-comm. ~Please tell me you've got the car running. It's the blue van coming up. If I get my hands on these bastards, I'll make
them run a few laps.~ She emerged from the front of the house as the van came skidding to the front.

"Merde." Remy hissed as he pulled open the driver's side and climbed in. The van leapt out on to the streets. He bore down hard on the gas, cursing as pain shot up his leg and hip. He twisted the wheel, closing his eyes as he aimed it directly at the van. It caught the edge of the front left side. Betsy's rental spun off heavily, crumpling both its front end and the front and wheel well of the van. The van skidded to a halt, smoking pouring from the front.

Remy blinked, trying to shake off the shock of the impact. He was bleeding from cuts from the windscreen, sight obscured by the airbag. Gritting his teeth, Remy shouldered into the door, pushing it open and allowing him to crawl on to the street. ~Betts, can you get out here before the kidnappers make me very dead?~

"No chance of that, luv," Betsy said, already helping Remy from the wreckage. She motioned to the two men in the front seat and saw that they were unconscious and bleeding. Giving him a toothy smile, Betsy
managed to carry Remy a safe distance away before moving behind the van.

He could hear it now. The loud thumping coming from within, followed by panicked cries for help. "Get me out! Please!"

"Go get him. My head hurts." Remy muttered, sitting dazed on the grass. Betsy opened the rear doors, snapping off the handle with a tire iron and levering the hinge. It was a fairly quiet street, but there was no telling how long it would take someone to report the accident. And he had just wreaked their transportation, LeBeau considered.

Betsy went into the body of the van and untied the bonds that held Darius. He was a middle aged man, with very black hair and very white teeth; both fake she noted offhandedly. "Thank you, miss. Shouldn't
want to know what they wanted me for."

"I can tell you, but not here. You know Romany Wisdom?"

"Of course."

"It's about her. We need to get you and these two out of here. Do you have a car?"

"Yes, but what's this all about?"

"Not the time, Mr. Magnus." Betsy finished with his bonds. ~Remy, you dead yet?~

~Not funny.~

~Darius has a car around back. Get it and him out here, and we can load these two in the boot, until we can talk to them properly.~ Betsy caught his mental approval. "Go get your car."

Remy started after Darius as soon as he emerged, following the man to his garage.

"You look a mess, son."

"I heal quick. Let's get moving."

***

Betsy closed the top of the boot, grimaced at her companion, and headed to the side of the sedan. "They were shielding themselves from me, Remy. Whomever they are, they've been schooled." Professional. "It could be a problem."

Remy limped along to his side door. "Not necessarily. Can you get your hands on a quiet place?"

"Of course."

"Good. All we need is that and a bottle of HP sauce."

Betsy looked at him like he'd grown a third eye. "Beg pardon?"

"Trust me on dis." Remy settled into his chair and closed his eyes as Betsy started the car and drove off.

***

"Evening boys." Remy said as the first man slowly opened his eyes. They were in a small storeroom, behind an empty shopfront that Betsy seemed to know the owner of. Both men had been cuffed with their arms interlocking. If they tried to run, they'd have to trip over each other. On the ground between them, sat an open bottle of HP sauce.

"Now, let's just get all dis figured out. You are de bad people. Kidnapping friends of Romany Wisdom for whatever reason. We want to know things. However, you happen to have all kinds of training on keeping people like my friend here out of your heads. So, it means we down to torture." Remy got up and smiled. "Fortunately, I like torture. Now, how this normally goes is dat I threaten you, you tell me dat you not going to say anything, or dat you don't know anything. I hurt you a while."

He picked up the bottle of HP sauce and sniffed it. "Now, de thought of all dat tires me. De girl could tear apart you minds eventually, but that takes too long. So, here's de plan." Remy pulled a sharp knife out of his coat and put it on the ground. "I'm going to ask you a question. If you lie, which she'll know, or refuse to tell me, I'll cut a part off of you." Remy pointed to the other man. "And den, I'm going to make you eat it."

"But you'll get some HP sauce on it. After all," Remy grinned as he approached them with the sauce bottle. "We not monsters. We can keep going as long you got parts and an appetite."

Men never looked so scared at the sight of a bottle of condiment before.

Two sets of eyes shifted toward her as she looked on from the far wall with idle curiosity. She kept her face passive as one set turned away, resolving to their fate while the other.....

A flicker. An image. Just enough information to save himself without openly making himself a target. The telepath moved toward the man to Remy's left and leaned precariously close to him. She brought her hand across his chest and pulled open the inside of his double-breasted jacket. Pulling back, in her hands, Betsy held a black iPod. She made a little satisfied noise, flicking her purple eyes appreciatively over the man's face. "Bon appetit."

One look at Remy and Betsy walked out of the room without another word.