Opening Salvo: Finale
May. 1st, 2006 10:59 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsOn a hilltop in Lancashire, Pete and his friends catch up with the men who took Romany. They want her back, and they're prepared to be very unpleasant about it indeed. The results are predictably swift and messy, because these people are professionals. They don't just charge in with a half-baked plan. No. Their plans are fully baked.
---
Remy is the first to make contact with the enemy. He's a lot slower than he used to be, but no less effective for it.
"Alright, children, we all know what we're doing. Spread out, try not to kill anyone unless you have to, and the first round's one me when we're done."
Pete watched the others melt away into the night, then took a deep breath and headed up the hill himself.
***
Remy hobbled up the hill, taking care to pick the leveler ground leading up. There were soldiers, it seemed. The lights outlined assault rifles and flak jackets; someone had gone for security in a big way. He almost smiled as he readjusted his tweed hat. He had gotten further than he'd thought he would when the soldier stopped him.
"What you doing here?" He bristled, holding his gun across his chest.
"Out walking the dog. He's run off on me, it seems." Both Pete and Amanda would have been greatly amused at his flawless Yorkshire accent. Between that, his outfit, and the cane, in the dark he looked like your average middle aged local, out for a late walk. Which was exactly what he intended.
"Sorry, sir. This whole area's been cordoned off. Government orders."
"There's nothing dangerous going on, is there?"
"Nothing to worry about. You'll have to look for your dog somewhere else." The soldier said, relaxing a bit now that he'd identified LeBeau as not being a threat.
"If you find him, please let me know. Here's my card." The soldier took the card, surprised that Remy hadn't let it go. Glancing down, he saw is was a regular playing card; the ace of spades. It started to glow purple, and he looked up at Remy, his face now illuminated by the light.
The card exploded, sending the soldier reeling backwards into the side of the van he'd been guarding. He slid down unconscious to the gorse, as Remy took cover behind it. His job was simple; cut a hole in the lines for Amanda to get get Romany out through. They had plenty of guards, but stupidly, most of their attention was drawn into the circle. Remy slowly moved forward, cursing the clumsiness of the cane and mostly using the shadows to hide himself.
He found himself just outside of the lights when Wanda unleashed madness.
His targets had burned their nightvision by sneaking looks back into the lit circle, which suited Remy. He pivoted neatly on the cane and let fly three cards. They flashed across the distance, one striking and destroying the gun of one, the other two hitting guards dead centre in the forehead. Both men went down like felled trees, although Remy had kept the kinetic energy level in the cards below lethal. The telltale flashes of Wisdom's hotknives stabbed through the night, and Remy moved to his second job. Two of the guards were down, the other disarmed; Amanda and Romany would have to make due with that.
He pulled the full deck out of his coat, charged it, and scattered them over the clearing. Cards rained down, exploding as they hit amoungst the remaining EOE men. It was to help cause more confusion as Betsy, Wisdom, and Wanda got up close. Remy staggered back into the bole of a tree, exhausted from the sudden expendature of energy. He turned and limped back down towards the road. He'd done the job he needed to. Now it was time to move or become a liability.
Wanda's up next, just to make sure there's plenty of chaos to cover everyone's activities.
The plan itself was very simple. Which, Wanda thought wryly, meant there were plenty of things to go wrong with it. Instead of dwelling on it, she slipped through the underbrush towards a guard who was looking rather...lonely.
From the looks of things, if there had been someone else with him they were patrolling the area around him and he was stuck at post. From the relaxed pose, he looked bored and kept glancing back towards the fire and the group. Meaning he wasn't looking around very hard at the area he was in.
Tucking her hands in her jacket pockets as she activated her powers, Wanda couldn't help but grin a little. It took only a slight pull on a string and she didn't have to wait long.
Someone to the right and aways a bit made a noise, the soldier turning as some of the forest animals scampered away from all the excitement. A brief squawk was heard from above as something landed on a branch that didn't want to hold it's weight, masking the noise of it breaking and bearing down on the soldier.
Wanda paused only briefly to glance down at the sprawled figure on the ground, groaning softly, before she moved again, kicking away his weapon. The others should have taken care of more of the guards which meant she didn't have to worry quite so much.
Just ahead was the main group and the fire. The brightly burning large bonfire that they kept dumping more wood and fuel onto. Perfect.
Red light pulsed once as Wanda pushed, mood lifting considerably when it occurred to her that she was returning to normal after everything, and the fire suddenly flared out. Too many things had been added to the pit and it grew much faster than anyone had expected. Startled yells and curses came not just a second afterwards.
Grinning, she turned on her heel and concentrated, saving her energy since she no longer had a reserve, and the crowd started to run into itself, tripping over things that people should have cleared away but simply forgot about.
And it was one thing after another, red flashes here and there, as she took created complete chaos in the place and took care of anyone that stumbled out her way.
Pete and Amanda make sure Romany gets away
And there she was, tied to a post.
"The Joan of Arc look just isn't you, luv" Pete muttered, and concentrated briefly, sending hotknives through the ropes binding his sister with astonishing accuracy. Then trusting that she'd have the sense to run herself, he turned his attention to the two lads running toward him, his position given away by the flash of his powers.
The first pulled a knife and advanced slowly, while the other circled around behind him.
Pete just grinned. "Look, if you're really nice to me, and fuck off now, I'll let you keep the use of your limbs…"
***
Stay put until the right moment, don't let yourself be seen. Stay the fuck out of trouble - anything happens to you and Romany'll kill me.
Pete had been rather specific, using the tone of voice that tended to mean 'disobey at your own peril.' Still, it was difficult to stay crouching in the bushes, watching the others go in. And not because she hated feeling useless and wanted to help, either; she knew her limits.
Especially now.
'Note to self, pick something that isn't a bloody gorse bush to hide in,' she thought, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the thorns. She knew she'd always hated the countryside for a reason. Altogether too many spiny, sting-y, squishy things...
There was a red flash, followed by several small explosions - Wanda and Remy using their powers. The circle was broken as the participants scattered, moving to engage the intruders and secure their sacrifice, and three of them moving in... Amanda watched intently from her position, trying not to let her attention be too distracted by the ballet of mayhem unfolding in front of her. She'd seen Pete fight before, two years ago against Nathan, but this... It was obvious Wanda lacked the training of the other two, but even so it was an education, watching the three of them - Betsy, Wanda and Pete - was an education. All Amanda could think was that she was glad to be on their side.
That and wonder if they'd teach her even a fraction of what they knew.
There! A flash of Pete's hotknives and the ropes binding Romany fell away. The leader tried to grab her, but she sent him reeling back with a truly vicious headbutt. Wrenching herself free of the clinging gorse Amanda made her way as unobtrusively as possible through the undergrowth, heading to intercept the older woman. Romany was doing exactly what Pete had said, running away from the fight. Someone had taught someone well.
Of course, it all goes so much easier where there's a telepath on your side...
A glint of light flashed over her face, illuminating her pale features as she moved forward like a ghost of the night. Slowly making her way from the trees and creeping behind a guard. The man reached for a flask in his uniform pocket and took a greedy drink from his silver flask.
He hadn't even noticed the flash of purple, igniting behind him until he took another drink and saw dark, hungry eyes reflecting back at him from his tin. A startled gasp died on his lips as a fist connected to the back of his skull. His body falling quietly down unto the grass. Disengaging her psi-blade and surveying her work, Betsy bent down and relieved the man of his arms and flask, stalking forward into the fray.
In her mind's eye, she picked up the other members of her expedition. They had spread out and made short work of the men responsible for guarding this place. Picking up on Amanda as the young girl traversed the field toward Romany, Betsy helpfully created a null field that surround the girl as she ran toward her bound relative. The field blanking Amanda's presence to all those except her team ensured her safety as Romany was freed and both women ran toward the treeline. Looking from the spot the women disappeared into; Betsy took stock of the scene in front of her. It was pandemonium.
Amanda and Romany's escape isn't totally without a hitch...
They met at the end of the circle of light.
"Night nice for it," Amanda said in a low voice, stepping out of the shadows and trusting Romany to recognise at least her voice, if not her aura. Romany jumped, the relief naked on her face. In the garish light cast by various power signatures, she looked old, tired and worn and incredibly pissed off. Instinct took over and Amanda moved to take her arm - she looked all-in.
"Amanda." The quiver in Romany's voice and the tremble in her hand as she grasped the girl's briefly said more than a lifetime of conversation.
"The role of getaway drive in tonight's rescue will be played by yours truly," Amanda said, covering her own confused reaction with humour. Too much and too little time - they'd sort it out later. "C'mon, car's just at the bottom. Five minutes and we'll be clear of all this."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Romany said, an exhausted chuckle breaking from her. As they headed further down the hill she leaned a little more heavily on Amanda's supporting arm than she perhaps intended. She didn't seem hurt, just... exhausted. Worn down. As if she'd been fighting a battle for a very long time. With a sudden flash of insight, Amanda realised that was exactly it - and for longer than the time she'd been kept prisoner. In many ways the fight had been longer and more pervasive than Amanda would have ever thought.
'This is what she does. It's what they all do.'
It was something to think about.
They reached the lane where the car was waiting without incident and Amanda helped Romany into the passenger seat - she'd sagged more and more as they'd hurried along, the lines of her face more deeply etched with each step.
"Some friends of Pete's are waiting up the road a spell," Amanda said as she opened the driver's side door. "They'll keep us safe until... URK!" She was cut off as hands grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked her backwards, almost swinging her off her feet. 'Pillock. Should have checked for ambush. Remy'll never let me hear the last of this - figures they might have run across the car during a sweep,' she berated herself as she made herself go limp in the man's grip so he ended up holding her up by the scruff like a wayward kitten; taking her weight put him off-balance.
"No!" Romany cried out, fumbling with the seat belt buckle.
"Yes," came the gravelly-voiced reply. "Come quietly or I'll snap the brat's neck."
'Oh, I really don't think that's an option, sunshine...'
Kicking backwards with all her might, there was a crunch as Amanda's boot connected with the man's kneecap. He let out a cry of pain, dropping her but not letting go of her jacket collar. She pressed the advantaged, driving her elbow back into his groin before turning and hitting him in the nose with the heel of her hand across the bridge. Another crunch as his nose broke and he staggered back, clutching blindly at his face. Amanda wasted no time in lunging for the car and getting in.
"Lock the doors," she told Romany as she started the engine, perhaps unnecessarily as there was a thump on the driver's door and then the man appeared on the hood, face a bloody mask of rage. "What is it with this bloke? Too many bad American car chase movies?" Amanda muttered, throwing the car into gear and stomping on the accelerator in a way that would have made Scott weep. They lurched forward, the man losing his grip on the hood as Amanda braked hard and then reversed just as abruptly. Their passenger slid helplessly off the car, rolling out of the way to avoid being run over as Amanda peeled off in a shower or mud and dead leaves, fishtailing but still managing to keep control.
"Where did you learn to drive like that?" Romany asked in a rather breathless voice as Amanda careened down the dark, narrow lane, making for the main road and the rendezvous. Hopefully there were no badgers wandering about. Or sheep.
"One part misspent youth, one part driver's ed," Amanda replied with a rather manic grin. She turned abruptly onto the main road, tires squealing and then slowed down as a check in the mirror showed there was no-one behind them.
"Consider me suitably impressed." Romany was quiet for a long time and then apparently apropos of anything, said: "I knew Peter would come for me - that goes without saying. But I'm glad you came as well. I'd hoped, but I didn't know, not for sure."
"Couldn't let Pete have all the fun," she replied casually. She knew Romany wouldn't be fooled for a minute, but for now that was all she could offer. She kept her eyes fixed on the road unspooling in the headlights.
"Of course." Another pause. "I like the hair."
Amanda glanced over at Romany and saw her smiling gently and despite herself, grinned back.
"Thanks."
Doug and Marie-Ange, meanwhile, are stuck waiting with the friends Pete has brought along to help tidy up. It's not the most exciting job in the world, but Doug suddenly realises why Pete dragged thme along too...
Standing in a corner, Doug folded his arms, then unfolded them and shoved his hands in his pockets. The MI-5 comm team had been nice enough to allow Doug and Marie-Ange to sit in with them while the "Trenchcoat Brigade", as Amanda liked to call them, went in and did their thing. But Doug was feeling just slightly out of place. Turning to his girlfriend, he quirked his mouth. "Someone remind me why we're along for the ride? These guys are the professionals..." But it certainly didn't make sense for the pair to be in on the takedown. So he supposed it made sense, where they were. Doug just hated feeling useless and not having anything to do.
Marie-Ange shuffled around the leftovers from the carry-out dinners she'd gone and gotten before. She hated feeling useless nearly as much as Doug did, and had gone on a dinner run earlier, just to have something to do that wasn't braiding her hair, or avoiding doing her nails. She was -not- going to fulfill any more stereotypes than strictly necessary, if she could help it. Besides, she'd just -had- a manicure.
"Because chance says that if we are not here, they would need us here?" she said absently. "And it is better for us to know what is going on than not?"
Doug paced back and forth next to the table Marie-Ange was sitting at. "And we could be sitting in the hotel waiting, and get a phone call when it was over, and we'd know about as much as we know now," he replied, doing his best not to shout in frustration. "Not that we don't appreciate your letting us be here," he apologized to the comm crew. A few shrugs and noncommittal responses returned from where the crew was hunched over their systems.
After several minutes of pacing back and forth, Doug stopped. "I know why we're here," he told Marie-Ange quietly. "We're here in case we have to call backup." He subtly touched a hand to the pager in his pocket. "Doesn't mean I have to like sitting around feeling useless," he said, throwing himself bonelessly into a chair across the table from his girlfriend, who looked a bit...unfocused and distant. He recognized that look. "...babe?" he asked hesistantly.
"Hrm?" Marie-Ange answered quietly. She'd found herself reaching for the ever-present pack of tarot cards in her pocket and put her hands on the table firmly. The men monitoring the communication equipment had already been grumbling about 'mystic buggery shite.".
Taking Doug's hand, she pulled him close, hoping to get him to sit down in the chair next to hers, and block some of the table from the view of the team. No need to ruin their presumably good reputation with any blatent 'mystic shite', but she was starting to get... twitchy.
Doug knew what was in the pocket Marie-Ange had cut off her reach for, and the glance at the comm crew spoke volumes, given their editorial commentary on the 'mystic buggery shite'. So when Marie-Ange pulled at his hand from across the table, he quickly moved to the chair next to her, blocking most of the view of the table. "Go ahead, love," he whispered. "Not like they're really paying attention to us." The MI-5 men were splitting their attention between the comms and the food Marie-Ange had brought, with no real room to spare for the pair of teenagers.
She didn't even really feel like she needed to do a proper reading. Just ease some of her nerves by shuffling the cards and seeing what came up. It helped soothe her worry and concern, and gave her something to do with her hands. And let her practice some of the simple card tricks Remy had shown her once.
So she shuffled, and cut the deck of cards, and looked at what came up. And reshuffled, and re-cut, and was not a bit surprised when the same card came up again. And again, the third and fourth times.
The fifth time, she handed the deck to Doug to cut. Just to be sure.
Doug raised his eyebrow and cut the deck. Looking at the card, he turned his half of the deck to face Marie-Ange. The central image of the card was a circle with strange runic symbols on it. Doug chuckled wryly. "Wheel of Morality, turn turn turn, tell us the lesson that we must learn," he quipped. "Number ten. Isn't it always number ten?"
"I thought it was the trip to Aruba..." Marie-Ange suggested. She'd seen the cartoon with the odd dog-like children too, growing up, even if the French translation was not always the best. Jokes never translated well. "I think... " She took a peek at the next card in the deck, and blinked. The Knight of Cups, of course. And after that, the High Priestess. "Maybe we should get used to this?"
A grimace stole across Doug's face. "How did I know you were going to say that? I thought -you- were the precog, not me." He quirked a wry grin and settled back into his chair. Well, if they had to get used to sitting around waiting for the results to come in, there was no time like the present. "I don't suppose you brought regular playing cards, did you?"
Trusting Amanda to get Romany away, Pete takes care of a few loose ends
Pete picked his way through the chaos with a certain amount of care. Smacking the crap out of squaddies was very satisfying, but there was more going on here, and he didn't really want to waste any more time. And then he spotted the man he was after - wearing an expensive suit, flanked by two more soldiers, had to be him.
"Oi! Toerag!" The first solider got a swift kick to the head as he turned, and went down Instantly. Pete ducked a fairly wild swing from the other, landed a solid blow In the man's gut, and then brought his knee up as the man doubled over.
Then he sprinted the short distance that the man In the suit had managed to run, and tackled him to the ground.
"You're nicked, me old son."
***
She watched as the fire blazed out of control and as bodies were thrown against one another in panic. It was disconcerting and while she was curious to see the aftereffects, one look at Pete's hardened expression, as he pushed his captive along in front of him shoved that thought aside. She jaunted quickly over to him. They'd gotten what they came for and it was time they made haste to the rendezvous point.
"After you, luv." Betsy said; motioning with the gloved hand still enclosed around the semi-automatic weapon. She smirked at his questioning gaze and tossed the weapon aside. "What?" She snapped back. "It's not like I was going to keep it."
It's all over bar the shouting, but sometimes there's still a last spanner fate can throw in the works.
The scene was picked out in flashing blue lights, the fire on the hill slowly dying down in the background. Pete watched the last of them pull away in their cars - the doctors has given Romany a quick once over, and pronounced her fine, if in need of food and rest, and a proper check up in a day or two, just to be sure. Amanda was with her - he'd catch them up soon enough, and he'd see the others back in London. Just a few loose ends to take care of first…
He strode over leant on the roof of one of the few unmarked cars here, bending down to talk to Doyle through the passenger side window. "Francis Russell. Parliamentary Under-Secretary at the Home Office." He jerked a thumb at the man sitting in the back into one of the police vans nearby, the doors still open while they processed those of the soldiers that were fit to travel without hospital time first.
"He's certainly got the clout to have pulled this off - dusting off the old Extranormal Operations Executive name, using it as a cover for his own black book work, but I'll let your boys get the detail out of him. He's been pretty well trained - Bets couldn't get anything out of him at all in the few minutes we had, but I'm sure a few days to let the reality sink in and he'll tell you everything HMG might want to know." Pete grinned at his old mate.
"And if anyone asks…"
"You were never here, just as usual." Doyle returned the smile. "You going to be by the Crown again before you fuck off?"
"Yeah, I should be. Pissed off a few people digging all this up, but no more than usual, so I don't think I'll have to run off on the first available flight. If I don't make it, you've got my number if anything comes up. Just let me know what-"
Pete broke off as he Doyle staring intently at Russell in the back of the van, as the man twisted against his restraints, face contorted in pain. "Here, what's occurring?" He set of at a run, the sound of a car door opening and closing letting him know Doyle was at his heels.
By the time they'd navigated the haphazardly parked cars, a small crowd had gathered around the back of the police van. A paramedic looked up as the two of them closed.
"He's dead. Looks like a massive heart attack."
"I had him in plain sight the whole time, Pete. No-one went near him until he started to kick off." Doyle shrugged. "Maybe it didn't need a couple of days for reality to sink in."
Pete's eyes didn't leave the corpse. "Maybe, maybe not. I want a copy of the fucking autopsy report, though, alright? If the cunt's just dead, well, then at least it's all fucking over bar the shouting. If not…" He shrugged, the threw Doyle a rueful smile. "Ah, fuck it. We can worry about it tomorrow. I'm off to shout at me sister for getting mixed up with bad men. I'll see you down the pub, squire."
---
Remy is the first to make contact with the enemy. He's a lot slower than he used to be, but no less effective for it.
"Alright, children, we all know what we're doing. Spread out, try not to kill anyone unless you have to, and the first round's one me when we're done."
Pete watched the others melt away into the night, then took a deep breath and headed up the hill himself.
***
Remy hobbled up the hill, taking care to pick the leveler ground leading up. There were soldiers, it seemed. The lights outlined assault rifles and flak jackets; someone had gone for security in a big way. He almost smiled as he readjusted his tweed hat. He had gotten further than he'd thought he would when the soldier stopped him.
"What you doing here?" He bristled, holding his gun across his chest.
"Out walking the dog. He's run off on me, it seems." Both Pete and Amanda would have been greatly amused at his flawless Yorkshire accent. Between that, his outfit, and the cane, in the dark he looked like your average middle aged local, out for a late walk. Which was exactly what he intended.
"Sorry, sir. This whole area's been cordoned off. Government orders."
"There's nothing dangerous going on, is there?"
"Nothing to worry about. You'll have to look for your dog somewhere else." The soldier said, relaxing a bit now that he'd identified LeBeau as not being a threat.
"If you find him, please let me know. Here's my card." The soldier took the card, surprised that Remy hadn't let it go. Glancing down, he saw is was a regular playing card; the ace of spades. It started to glow purple, and he looked up at Remy, his face now illuminated by the light.
The card exploded, sending the soldier reeling backwards into the side of the van he'd been guarding. He slid down unconscious to the gorse, as Remy took cover behind it. His job was simple; cut a hole in the lines for Amanda to get get Romany out through. They had plenty of guards, but stupidly, most of their attention was drawn into the circle. Remy slowly moved forward, cursing the clumsiness of the cane and mostly using the shadows to hide himself.
He found himself just outside of the lights when Wanda unleashed madness.
His targets had burned their nightvision by sneaking looks back into the lit circle, which suited Remy. He pivoted neatly on the cane and let fly three cards. They flashed across the distance, one striking and destroying the gun of one, the other two hitting guards dead centre in the forehead. Both men went down like felled trees, although Remy had kept the kinetic energy level in the cards below lethal. The telltale flashes of Wisdom's hotknives stabbed through the night, and Remy moved to his second job. Two of the guards were down, the other disarmed; Amanda and Romany would have to make due with that.
He pulled the full deck out of his coat, charged it, and scattered them over the clearing. Cards rained down, exploding as they hit amoungst the remaining EOE men. It was to help cause more confusion as Betsy, Wisdom, and Wanda got up close. Remy staggered back into the bole of a tree, exhausted from the sudden expendature of energy. He turned and limped back down towards the road. He'd done the job he needed to. Now it was time to move or become a liability.
Wanda's up next, just to make sure there's plenty of chaos to cover everyone's activities.
The plan itself was very simple. Which, Wanda thought wryly, meant there were plenty of things to go wrong with it. Instead of dwelling on it, she slipped through the underbrush towards a guard who was looking rather...lonely.
From the looks of things, if there had been someone else with him they were patrolling the area around him and he was stuck at post. From the relaxed pose, he looked bored and kept glancing back towards the fire and the group. Meaning he wasn't looking around very hard at the area he was in.
Tucking her hands in her jacket pockets as she activated her powers, Wanda couldn't help but grin a little. It took only a slight pull on a string and she didn't have to wait long.
Someone to the right and aways a bit made a noise, the soldier turning as some of the forest animals scampered away from all the excitement. A brief squawk was heard from above as something landed on a branch that didn't want to hold it's weight, masking the noise of it breaking and bearing down on the soldier.
Wanda paused only briefly to glance down at the sprawled figure on the ground, groaning softly, before she moved again, kicking away his weapon. The others should have taken care of more of the guards which meant she didn't have to worry quite so much.
Just ahead was the main group and the fire. The brightly burning large bonfire that they kept dumping more wood and fuel onto. Perfect.
Red light pulsed once as Wanda pushed, mood lifting considerably when it occurred to her that she was returning to normal after everything, and the fire suddenly flared out. Too many things had been added to the pit and it grew much faster than anyone had expected. Startled yells and curses came not just a second afterwards.
Grinning, she turned on her heel and concentrated, saving her energy since she no longer had a reserve, and the crowd started to run into itself, tripping over things that people should have cleared away but simply forgot about.
And it was one thing after another, red flashes here and there, as she took created complete chaos in the place and took care of anyone that stumbled out her way.
Pete and Amanda make sure Romany gets away
And there she was, tied to a post.
"The Joan of Arc look just isn't you, luv" Pete muttered, and concentrated briefly, sending hotknives through the ropes binding his sister with astonishing accuracy. Then trusting that she'd have the sense to run herself, he turned his attention to the two lads running toward him, his position given away by the flash of his powers.
The first pulled a knife and advanced slowly, while the other circled around behind him.
Pete just grinned. "Look, if you're really nice to me, and fuck off now, I'll let you keep the use of your limbs…"
***
Stay put until the right moment, don't let yourself be seen. Stay the fuck out of trouble - anything happens to you and Romany'll kill me.
Pete had been rather specific, using the tone of voice that tended to mean 'disobey at your own peril.' Still, it was difficult to stay crouching in the bushes, watching the others go in. And not because she hated feeling useless and wanted to help, either; she knew her limits.
Especially now.
'Note to self, pick something that isn't a bloody gorse bush to hide in,' she thought, trying unsuccessfully to avoid the thorns. She knew she'd always hated the countryside for a reason. Altogether too many spiny, sting-y, squishy things...
There was a red flash, followed by several small explosions - Wanda and Remy using their powers. The circle was broken as the participants scattered, moving to engage the intruders and secure their sacrifice, and three of them moving in... Amanda watched intently from her position, trying not to let her attention be too distracted by the ballet of mayhem unfolding in front of her. She'd seen Pete fight before, two years ago against Nathan, but this... It was obvious Wanda lacked the training of the other two, but even so it was an education, watching the three of them - Betsy, Wanda and Pete - was an education. All Amanda could think was that she was glad to be on their side.
That and wonder if they'd teach her even a fraction of what they knew.
There! A flash of Pete's hotknives and the ropes binding Romany fell away. The leader tried to grab her, but she sent him reeling back with a truly vicious headbutt. Wrenching herself free of the clinging gorse Amanda made her way as unobtrusively as possible through the undergrowth, heading to intercept the older woman. Romany was doing exactly what Pete had said, running away from the fight. Someone had taught someone well.
Of course, it all goes so much easier where there's a telepath on your side...
A glint of light flashed over her face, illuminating her pale features as she moved forward like a ghost of the night. Slowly making her way from the trees and creeping behind a guard. The man reached for a flask in his uniform pocket and took a greedy drink from his silver flask.
He hadn't even noticed the flash of purple, igniting behind him until he took another drink and saw dark, hungry eyes reflecting back at him from his tin. A startled gasp died on his lips as a fist connected to the back of his skull. His body falling quietly down unto the grass. Disengaging her psi-blade and surveying her work, Betsy bent down and relieved the man of his arms and flask, stalking forward into the fray.
In her mind's eye, she picked up the other members of her expedition. They had spread out and made short work of the men responsible for guarding this place. Picking up on Amanda as the young girl traversed the field toward Romany, Betsy helpfully created a null field that surround the girl as she ran toward her bound relative. The field blanking Amanda's presence to all those except her team ensured her safety as Romany was freed and both women ran toward the treeline. Looking from the spot the women disappeared into; Betsy took stock of the scene in front of her. It was pandemonium.
Amanda and Romany's escape isn't totally without a hitch...
They met at the end of the circle of light.
"Night nice for it," Amanda said in a low voice, stepping out of the shadows and trusting Romany to recognise at least her voice, if not her aura. Romany jumped, the relief naked on her face. In the garish light cast by various power signatures, she looked old, tired and worn and incredibly pissed off. Instinct took over and Amanda moved to take her arm - she looked all-in.
"Amanda." The quiver in Romany's voice and the tremble in her hand as she grasped the girl's briefly said more than a lifetime of conversation.
"The role of getaway drive in tonight's rescue will be played by yours truly," Amanda said, covering her own confused reaction with humour. Too much and too little time - they'd sort it out later. "C'mon, car's just at the bottom. Five minutes and we'll be clear of all this."
"You don't have to tell me twice," Romany said, an exhausted chuckle breaking from her. As they headed further down the hill she leaned a little more heavily on Amanda's supporting arm than she perhaps intended. She didn't seem hurt, just... exhausted. Worn down. As if she'd been fighting a battle for a very long time. With a sudden flash of insight, Amanda realised that was exactly it - and for longer than the time she'd been kept prisoner. In many ways the fight had been longer and more pervasive than Amanda would have ever thought.
'This is what she does. It's what they all do.'
It was something to think about.
They reached the lane where the car was waiting without incident and Amanda helped Romany into the passenger seat - she'd sagged more and more as they'd hurried along, the lines of her face more deeply etched with each step.
"Some friends of Pete's are waiting up the road a spell," Amanda said as she opened the driver's side door. "They'll keep us safe until... URK!" She was cut off as hands grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked her backwards, almost swinging her off her feet. 'Pillock. Should have checked for ambush. Remy'll never let me hear the last of this - figures they might have run across the car during a sweep,' she berated herself as she made herself go limp in the man's grip so he ended up holding her up by the scruff like a wayward kitten; taking her weight put him off-balance.
"No!" Romany cried out, fumbling with the seat belt buckle.
"Yes," came the gravelly-voiced reply. "Come quietly or I'll snap the brat's neck."
'Oh, I really don't think that's an option, sunshine...'
Kicking backwards with all her might, there was a crunch as Amanda's boot connected with the man's kneecap. He let out a cry of pain, dropping her but not letting go of her jacket collar. She pressed the advantaged, driving her elbow back into his groin before turning and hitting him in the nose with the heel of her hand across the bridge. Another crunch as his nose broke and he staggered back, clutching blindly at his face. Amanda wasted no time in lunging for the car and getting in.
"Lock the doors," she told Romany as she started the engine, perhaps unnecessarily as there was a thump on the driver's door and then the man appeared on the hood, face a bloody mask of rage. "What is it with this bloke? Too many bad American car chase movies?" Amanda muttered, throwing the car into gear and stomping on the accelerator in a way that would have made Scott weep. They lurched forward, the man losing his grip on the hood as Amanda braked hard and then reversed just as abruptly. Their passenger slid helplessly off the car, rolling out of the way to avoid being run over as Amanda peeled off in a shower or mud and dead leaves, fishtailing but still managing to keep control.
"Where did you learn to drive like that?" Romany asked in a rather breathless voice as Amanda careened down the dark, narrow lane, making for the main road and the rendezvous. Hopefully there were no badgers wandering about. Or sheep.
"One part misspent youth, one part driver's ed," Amanda replied with a rather manic grin. She turned abruptly onto the main road, tires squealing and then slowed down as a check in the mirror showed there was no-one behind them.
"Consider me suitably impressed." Romany was quiet for a long time and then apparently apropos of anything, said: "I knew Peter would come for me - that goes without saying. But I'm glad you came as well. I'd hoped, but I didn't know, not for sure."
"Couldn't let Pete have all the fun," she replied casually. She knew Romany wouldn't be fooled for a minute, but for now that was all she could offer. She kept her eyes fixed on the road unspooling in the headlights.
"Of course." Another pause. "I like the hair."
Amanda glanced over at Romany and saw her smiling gently and despite herself, grinned back.
"Thanks."
Doug and Marie-Ange, meanwhile, are stuck waiting with the friends Pete has brought along to help tidy up. It's not the most exciting job in the world, but Doug suddenly realises why Pete dragged thme along too...
Standing in a corner, Doug folded his arms, then unfolded them and shoved his hands in his pockets. The MI-5 comm team had been nice enough to allow Doug and Marie-Ange to sit in with them while the "Trenchcoat Brigade", as Amanda liked to call them, went in and did their thing. But Doug was feeling just slightly out of place. Turning to his girlfriend, he quirked his mouth. "Someone remind me why we're along for the ride? These guys are the professionals..." But it certainly didn't make sense for the pair to be in on the takedown. So he supposed it made sense, where they were. Doug just hated feeling useless and not having anything to do.
Marie-Ange shuffled around the leftovers from the carry-out dinners she'd gone and gotten before. She hated feeling useless nearly as much as Doug did, and had gone on a dinner run earlier, just to have something to do that wasn't braiding her hair, or avoiding doing her nails. She was -not- going to fulfill any more stereotypes than strictly necessary, if she could help it. Besides, she'd just -had- a manicure.
"Because chance says that if we are not here, they would need us here?" she said absently. "And it is better for us to know what is going on than not?"
Doug paced back and forth next to the table Marie-Ange was sitting at. "And we could be sitting in the hotel waiting, and get a phone call when it was over, and we'd know about as much as we know now," he replied, doing his best not to shout in frustration. "Not that we don't appreciate your letting us be here," he apologized to the comm crew. A few shrugs and noncommittal responses returned from where the crew was hunched over their systems.
After several minutes of pacing back and forth, Doug stopped. "I know why we're here," he told Marie-Ange quietly. "We're here in case we have to call backup." He subtly touched a hand to the pager in his pocket. "Doesn't mean I have to like sitting around feeling useless," he said, throwing himself bonelessly into a chair across the table from his girlfriend, who looked a bit...unfocused and distant. He recognized that look. "...babe?" he asked hesistantly.
"Hrm?" Marie-Ange answered quietly. She'd found herself reaching for the ever-present pack of tarot cards in her pocket and put her hands on the table firmly. The men monitoring the communication equipment had already been grumbling about 'mystic buggery shite.".
Taking Doug's hand, she pulled him close, hoping to get him to sit down in the chair next to hers, and block some of the table from the view of the team. No need to ruin their presumably good reputation with any blatent 'mystic shite', but she was starting to get... twitchy.
Doug knew what was in the pocket Marie-Ange had cut off her reach for, and the glance at the comm crew spoke volumes, given their editorial commentary on the 'mystic buggery shite'. So when Marie-Ange pulled at his hand from across the table, he quickly moved to the chair next to her, blocking most of the view of the table. "Go ahead, love," he whispered. "Not like they're really paying attention to us." The MI-5 men were splitting their attention between the comms and the food Marie-Ange had brought, with no real room to spare for the pair of teenagers.
She didn't even really feel like she needed to do a proper reading. Just ease some of her nerves by shuffling the cards and seeing what came up. It helped soothe her worry and concern, and gave her something to do with her hands. And let her practice some of the simple card tricks Remy had shown her once.
So she shuffled, and cut the deck of cards, and looked at what came up. And reshuffled, and re-cut, and was not a bit surprised when the same card came up again. And again, the third and fourth times.
The fifth time, she handed the deck to Doug to cut. Just to be sure.
Doug raised his eyebrow and cut the deck. Looking at the card, he turned his half of the deck to face Marie-Ange. The central image of the card was a circle with strange runic symbols on it. Doug chuckled wryly. "Wheel of Morality, turn turn turn, tell us the lesson that we must learn," he quipped. "Number ten. Isn't it always number ten?"
"I thought it was the trip to Aruba..." Marie-Ange suggested. She'd seen the cartoon with the odd dog-like children too, growing up, even if the French translation was not always the best. Jokes never translated well. "I think... " She took a peek at the next card in the deck, and blinked. The Knight of Cups, of course. And after that, the High Priestess. "Maybe we should get used to this?"
A grimace stole across Doug's face. "How did I know you were going to say that? I thought -you- were the precog, not me." He quirked a wry grin and settled back into his chair. Well, if they had to get used to sitting around waiting for the results to come in, there was no time like the present. "I don't suppose you brought regular playing cards, did you?"
Trusting Amanda to get Romany away, Pete takes care of a few loose ends
Pete picked his way through the chaos with a certain amount of care. Smacking the crap out of squaddies was very satisfying, but there was more going on here, and he didn't really want to waste any more time. And then he spotted the man he was after - wearing an expensive suit, flanked by two more soldiers, had to be him.
"Oi! Toerag!" The first solider got a swift kick to the head as he turned, and went down Instantly. Pete ducked a fairly wild swing from the other, landed a solid blow In the man's gut, and then brought his knee up as the man doubled over.
Then he sprinted the short distance that the man In the suit had managed to run, and tackled him to the ground.
"You're nicked, me old son."
***
She watched as the fire blazed out of control and as bodies were thrown against one another in panic. It was disconcerting and while she was curious to see the aftereffects, one look at Pete's hardened expression, as he pushed his captive along in front of him shoved that thought aside. She jaunted quickly over to him. They'd gotten what they came for and it was time they made haste to the rendezvous point.
"After you, luv." Betsy said; motioning with the gloved hand still enclosed around the semi-automatic weapon. She smirked at his questioning gaze and tossed the weapon aside. "What?" She snapped back. "It's not like I was going to keep it."
It's all over bar the shouting, but sometimes there's still a last spanner fate can throw in the works.
The scene was picked out in flashing blue lights, the fire on the hill slowly dying down in the background. Pete watched the last of them pull away in their cars - the doctors has given Romany a quick once over, and pronounced her fine, if in need of food and rest, and a proper check up in a day or two, just to be sure. Amanda was with her - he'd catch them up soon enough, and he'd see the others back in London. Just a few loose ends to take care of first…
He strode over leant on the roof of one of the few unmarked cars here, bending down to talk to Doyle through the passenger side window. "Francis Russell. Parliamentary Under-Secretary at the Home Office." He jerked a thumb at the man sitting in the back into one of the police vans nearby, the doors still open while they processed those of the soldiers that were fit to travel without hospital time first.
"He's certainly got the clout to have pulled this off - dusting off the old Extranormal Operations Executive name, using it as a cover for his own black book work, but I'll let your boys get the detail out of him. He's been pretty well trained - Bets couldn't get anything out of him at all in the few minutes we had, but I'm sure a few days to let the reality sink in and he'll tell you everything HMG might want to know." Pete grinned at his old mate.
"And if anyone asks…"
"You were never here, just as usual." Doyle returned the smile. "You going to be by the Crown again before you fuck off?"
"Yeah, I should be. Pissed off a few people digging all this up, but no more than usual, so I don't think I'll have to run off on the first available flight. If I don't make it, you've got my number if anything comes up. Just let me know what-"
Pete broke off as he Doyle staring intently at Russell in the back of the van, as the man twisted against his restraints, face contorted in pain. "Here, what's occurring?" He set of at a run, the sound of a car door opening and closing letting him know Doyle was at his heels.
By the time they'd navigated the haphazardly parked cars, a small crowd had gathered around the back of the police van. A paramedic looked up as the two of them closed.
"He's dead. Looks like a massive heart attack."
"I had him in plain sight the whole time, Pete. No-one went near him until he started to kick off." Doyle shrugged. "Maybe it didn't need a couple of days for reality to sink in."
Pete's eyes didn't leave the corpse. "Maybe, maybe not. I want a copy of the fucking autopsy report, though, alright? If the cunt's just dead, well, then at least it's all fucking over bar the shouting. If not…" He shrugged, the threw Doyle a rueful smile. "Ah, fuck it. We can worry about it tomorrow. I'm off to shout at me sister for getting mixed up with bad men. I'll see you down the pub, squire."
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