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I
The next changeover was delayed due to a strange falling out between Emma and Michel. What the origin of the dispute was, they weren't saying - Emma in particular clammed up. No one had told Emma about Michel, so there was general puzzlement.
The houses had to be rapidly revamped by Geneviève and it came out looking like this:
1. Jean-Claude and Sophie-Fleury, Jacques and Francesca
2. Nicolette and Hugh, Emma, Francine and Jean
3. Nadine and Paul, Michel
4. Geneviève, Thierry, Olivier, Gemma coordinating
Nicolette was of the opinion that something was brewing and asked Hugh.
‘I know no more than you on this,’ he said. ‘The traitor assumes, quite correctly, that Genie will immediately contact me for my opinion and that I will seek the opinion of Emma and then share it with you. Remember that for the traitor, this is a game of intellectual superiority.
Emma suspects that this person is on big money and needs to deliver the goods – not immediately but over a period of time - the enemy are very, very patient people. This person has been present at all major decisions made by the Section, knows all the procedures but I don’t think always knows the codes. This person seems, to me, to have a partner and both will have to leave just before the hit.’
‘I see.’
II
In their room, Genie explained, ‘We must be ready to move quickly, Thierry – it’s all going to happen soon.’
‘Yes?’ She felt him tense up.
‘It’s over for them. We have a very nasty set of boys we can use to deal with such things – we’ve not used them till now but a dear friend of ours from Parisien days has always placed them on offer.’
‘Who are they?’
‘They’re called Detail 503. You know of them?’
‘I’ve heard of them, yes.’
‘How?’
‘During your rehabilitation. Tell me about the traitors.’
‘One’s a man, one’s a woman, one’s the cleverest, the coldest traitor I’ve ever witnessed and the other is a weak pawn in the hands of the first. It’s ever the way.’
‘The weak one slipped up?’
‘No – it was the strong one who gave the game away.’
‘How?’
‘Too clever – tried one too many embellishments.’
‘Could you be mistaken?’
‘Not now.’
‘How can you be sure?’
‘People give themselves away in the smallest ways, when they least expect it.’
III
The changeover took place next day and no one, not even the enemy, had a hit on the agenda at this time. They all settled into their new houses.
.o0o.
In the dead of night, two dark-clad figures, a man and a woman, looked at each other, peeled their suits to their ankles and engaged in intercourse so violently that each thrust lifted the female off the floor.
.o0o.
An interminable time later, they opened the outer door, slipped down the steps, caught the signal on the other side and scuttled across the grassy slope to meet their contact.
There was a whoosh, then another, and both dropped to the ground.
Five men in black uniforms and balaclavas put the pair onto PVC stretchers, cleaned up and four took them to the van. The fifth went up the steps to meet a young man who asked if the two were now dead.
Receiving an affirmative, the young man opened the transponder and sent his signal to PLN. Papillon nodded, switched off the device and turned to Thierry for comfort.
IV
Late March, 2007
With the execution of the traitors, the pairings suggested themselves really:
1. Francine and Jean, Jean-Claude and Sophie-Fleury
2. Geneviève and Thierry, Olivier and Gemma
3. Emma and Paul, Jacques and Francesca
4. Nicolette and Hugh coordinating
They were back to fourteen.
Emma was sad, yes but not inconsolable as she’d been integrally involved in the executions, she understood what had been happening and was pragmatic. Geneviève, on the other hand, was inconsolable and Thierry had his work cut out.
All members One2Oned her at intervals.
Jean-Claude and Hugh had long One2Oned, missing the old bonhomie and determined to occupy the same safehouse sometime in the near future.
V
At Geneviève’s safehouse, Thierry pulled back the blinds, went to Gemma’s room and knocked. On receiving the word, he entered and saw they were at the computer. Gemma usually slept in the room with the computer and Olivier took his place on the divan in the main room but during the day, he was constantly in there playing games.
Thierry wanted time with his son but when he saw they were engrossed in the game, he quietly withdrew. No sooner had he departed than Gemma pressed exit.
‘What’d you do that for?’
‘I don’t want to play that anymore.’
Olivier was way ahead of her and terrified. ‘You’re making me nervous.’
‘Uh-huh.’ Clearly she was going to have to lead him. She put her lips close to his and he took a peck. She waited for more then gave it up. During dinner she planned to steal something from Geneviève’s room.
Just turning fifteen, she was precocious, far in advance of Olivier, in an experimental frame of mind and Geneviève was beginning to think she’d made an error in approving her airlift.
.o0o.
Late evening, silence had descended on the house, not a peep from the two in the other room. Softly, silently, Gemma’s toes touched the floor and then the rest of her was gliding across the floorboards towards Olivier on the divan.
He was awake, she urged him to be silent, gesticulating for him to follow her, which he was disinclined to do. She stood there, head inclined to one side, puzzled and summoned him again.
In the other room, Thierry lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Geneviève asked, ‘How old were you, Thierry?’
‘Fifteen. I’m going out there. He’s not ready for this.’
‘If he’s not, he won’t. If you go out there, he’ll try it next time in spite of you.’
VI
After the scares of the past days and the rubbing out of the traitors, Hugh and Jean-Claude pushed hard for the Section to be battle ready. Everyone had to train daily to a regimen, tailored to them.
For example, Sophie-Fleury [the woman] was not going to be capable of much physically so a lateral solution had to be found. As a girl she’d roller skated and thus their safehouse was one with a sloping pathway at the rear, at the end of which they always had support staff nearby to lift her when she got there.
Every member had the defence procedures tailor made and the pairs drilled in support fire and how to cover.
Each safehouse had to be studied in detail for its escape possibilities within an hour of arrival and all gear had to be left in a trail towards that escape route, to be donned in motion, as it were. Nobody, including Hugh and Jean-Claude, were to be allocated a safehouse where the escape procedure was beyond the endurance of either her gender or his years. There were no beg-pardons here, no sensitivities. If you were too old for the route or too weak, you were endangering the other partner.
Hugh arranged that body armour was always at the ready and the food packs were always in place. The outer wear would remain unchanged, the second unisex layer would last one week, the undergarments were interchangeable daily, with one spare carried in one of the pouches. Another pouch carried only personal items. It was compact and efficient.
For himself, he’d allocated the HK UMP 45 SMG and the M1911 as the holstered sidearm, firing the .45ACP round. It was either that or the SIG-Sauer P220, the latter useful for Europe but the 1911 gave that assurance in critical situations which Hugh demanded. Nikki was using the Russian PP-2000 SMG and GSh-18 pistol, both about half the weight of comparable arms and accepting the hollow nose 9mm Para rounds for soft targeting.
The greatest problem with convincing her to use the Russian weaponry had been her normal European bias and the extreme functionality of the two. They were simple action weapons but simple action meant reliability and reliability meant staying alive.
He showed her that, as her function was the opening suppressive fire and the mopping up of those not blasted out by the .45s, she needed both large magazine capacity and large rate of fire, which both these gave, all in a super light format. Plus, she was a small girl and both these weapons suited her size.
They were all ready for the flee procedure – in the case of Hugh and Nikki, the second part disagreeable in the extreme.
Slowly, slowly, they were becoming hard, slick, fast and determined to work with their partners, as they knew full well that any altercation, any health issue, anything at all, could threaten their lives.
No one had to mention it but sexual relations were obviously encouraged to improve the bonding but they were out of order within hours of either a changeover or an alert. That was only logical, especially for the males.
Jean-Claude suggested that they should become more proactive as a Section and people agreed. The killing of the traitors had sent out a clear signal to the enemy and all of Europe too that a Section whose modus operandi had once been seen as purely diplomacy and intrigue was now ruthless, armed and ready to excise problems from its midst.
This unfortunately played into the hands of the enemy who could plausibly label them terrorists and yet Europe knew they were only terrorists for key elements in power, not in the least for the common people, they lacked ideology and made a point of playing the Robin Hood, setting off countless court cases, and paying for them, for people the public were sure had been wronged.
Thus they had enormous tacit support but of course – there were traitors among those as well.
VII
Emma looked across at Paul and saw a boffin who might have been technically excellent, adept at politics and intrigue but was he hard enough to protect her? Plus he had overseen the demise of her child’s father. She made a mental note that she would not make love to him, not that it was on the agenda at all. It would take time to adjust and to be fair - he’d lost someone too. That must have been tough on him.
In his late thirties, Paul Fougeres had done all the training with the rest of them and had come through without complaint and yet … and yet. Emma had almost fallen in the bathroom one day and it was Paul who’d raced in and saved her, so what was she saying?
Actually, the more she thought of it, the more she warmed to the man. She went over and rested a hand on his shoulder while he was reading Paris Match. He looked up and appreciated the gesture.
He’d come into a Section already up to speed, had been given a tricky assignment, not being seen as part of the unit and not really partnered with anyone. He didn’t want to complain but the coolness of Emma, though understandable, still hurt.
So this gesture was nice.
VIII
Mid-April 2007
It happened at 16:17 and there was no doubt whatsoever.
The first rocket went through the living room wall, took out the wall opposite and began its explosion within the bedroom. This kept them alive, despite the falling debris - Hugh and Nicolette moved swiftly.
Dragon Skins and pouches donned as they ran, they also kissed as they’d always promised they’d do in this situation, scrambling up to the attic of the chalet, crouching near the little attic door. Both SMGs were primed and slipped into the diagonal chest racks and they were ready.
Another rocket hit down below, the building shuddered and groaned.
Hugh threw open the attic door, fired the carbon fibre cable from the harpoon and saw it cross four roofs, then dig into the wall of the chalet eighty metres away down the hill.
Nicolette clipped onto the cable and disappeared, he clipped himself on and away he went. Being 85kg, his feet touched the top of the second roof, he had to curl up for the third and there was bouncing off roofs in places the rest of the way.
At the chalet, she was already unclipped and now he did too, he shot the carbon fibre cord with the 1911, the cable whipcorded back over the roofs to the attic.
Inside the chalet, they scrambled down the stairwell and out to the drying room. The far wall panel removed, it was into the next chalet and two familiar faces appeared, now into the prepared, hollowed out refrigerators with the rear air vents, which were then loaded onto the triple wheeled removal trolleys, out to the waiting removals van with household goods in the back.
Inside their respective refrigerators, they could feel the van gently feeling its way down the winding road – a removal van would never hurry. Out of the refrigerator, with a slight push on the door, he called to Nikki, she opened her door to say she was OK and they were ready for the next move.
They felt the van slow to a stop at the crossroads and prayed the drain cover in the road had already been slid across, they got out of the fridges, Hugh slid their floor hatch open and breathed a sigh of relief – the drain was open. Nikki went down first, then him, closing the manhole cover after him; then they heard the van turn right, whilst they clung to the metal ladder.
Down the ladder and the torch was switched on for the one and only time – uggh, the sewage was disgusting, overpowering, but it was the only way. The Watchers would have expected them to take the regular water supply pipes - they’d be anticipating that and anyway, it was only 58 seconds in the sludge after all, they had their disposable waterproofs on, top to toe and there was a hot bath waiting at the other end.
She dropped into it first, he after her, and down they went, two giant faeces on a journey to near oblivion – 55 … 56 … 57 seconds – she grabbed the bottom of the ladder and tried to haul herself up, he was prevented from being swept on by her body, he got a hold on the ladder and together they managed to finally scramble onto it, pausing to get their breath back, the shaft was opened at the top - they could see the light, then there was the sudden darkening above, weapons primed, the wait for the signal – yes, it was them – up, up, out of the shaft and in through the floor of the other van, one of them would replace the manhole cover, he closed the floor hatch, the van moved off down the hill, then turned right - yes, that was correct - then back up the hill again, yes, all correct, finally turning into the driveway, the sound of the creaking wooden garage doors opening, in they went – the back of the van opened – and out they got.
‘Abend, Franz. Wie gehts?’
‘Herr Jensen, schnell, schnell, hier entlang, bitte. Fraulein, bitte.’
.o0o.
Thirty-eight minutes later saw them in an upstairs bath together, washing the bits and pieces of the filth from one another, mainly from her hair. They got out and flushed the scum down the drainhole, the terminally soiled waterproofs had already been dumped by Franz and now he came in with kitchen scissors, leaving them on the stand.
Nicolette looked at him, he looked at her – his hair was already close-cropped. ‘Bourne Identity,’ he breathed.
‘Precisement. Do it as best you can, it needn’t be pretty.’
She got into the tub and laid the opened plastic carry bag, stood on it, he cut, the bath had mirrors, she made occasional suggestions but at the end, she was satisfied it looked chic enough for the interim. There was no lovemaking to follow it.
They filled the bath again, scrubbed and disinfected some more, got out, dried each other, she looked so ravishing and … well … freshly scrubbed.
‘Welcome to homelessness,’ he muttered and she smiled that smile which went straight through him every time.
Dressed in layers again, they went downstairs, where both were handed gluhwein, feeling the roar all the way to the stomach, then they fell on the repast on the table – meats, vegetables, bread and water.
‘Herr Jensen,’ Franz dropped into English, ‘You’ll be collected at 19:00, in forty minutes, all right?’ Hugh nodded and smiled his thanks.
Their other equipment was in the room and Nicolette now checked over the communications gear – it all seemed to be OK. Hugh checked the food and drink containers, Nicolette checked their clothing, a quick check of the weapons and they were ready.
‘Entlang hier,’ said Franz and they followed him through to his garage and into the back seat of the X5. ‘If all is well, he’ll be there, and Gunter will give the signal, otherwise we continue on, understood?’
‘Verstehe.’
.o0o.
The drive had been near interminable – they couldn’t tell how many towns they’d either bypassed or gone through, they seemed to be forever turning at crossroads or avoiding the edges of narrow lanes.
Eventually, they made it to a field in the middle of a virtual wilderness, Erik put his mobile to his ear and said something in German.
The next thing they heard was the sound of rotors overhead, the shadow of a helicopter passed over their vehicle and onto the field in front of them. Hugh offered both men his hand from the back seat, they shook it in turn, the car stopped, they got out and sprinted, bent over, scurried to the copter and got in the open door, Hugh first into the back and Nikki in the front, beside the pilot.
Even as the copter rose, they saw an enemy burst come at them from the bushes and strike the fuselage, Hugh rested the UMP on the raised door lip and gave a short burst to the bushes.
The copter swung away to the left, straightened and they were away into the clear, starry night.
.o0o.
With the helicopter flying low to the land, Nicolette reminded him of the OK signal.
‘Doing it now,’ he replied, assembling the apparatus in the back seat. He entered his ID, entered the numbers which spelled the message, scrambled and sent it to the other three safehouses.
He awaited the auto-confirmation and it duly came from all three, then, just as he was about to switch off, the screen filled with a blue glow and there she was again – that girl called Thirteen, her lips puckered and her voice said simply, ‘You were warned.’
From his sharp intake of breath, Nicolette sensed something was wrong, swung round and put two and two together: ‘What did that bitch say?’
‘We were warned.’
‘Then the traitor -’
‘I think it was preloaded.’
‘Switch it off.’
‘It’s off. We’re the only ones who were hit. They’re all fine apparently.’
X
With Nikki and Hugh now back in a safehouse, one of the two houses in their inventory geographically furthest south, life returned to what, for the Section, was deemed ‘normal’.
Those two actually had the best of it, being on an island and able to go down to the water at dusk, crunching along the sand, arm in arm. Yet she seemed somehow out of place and for how many women could that be said?
Back at the hut, he said, ‘You’re so urban chic - you’re not a beach girl, are you, love?’
‘My skin - it burns, it’s uncomfortable, you know that. This is nice now this evening -’
‘We never dance, you and I.’
‘I’m not very good at it,’ she smiled. ‘Je suis idiosyncratique.’
‘Don’t I know it. Do you want to try a little dancing together? When we’re close, it’s not really dancing, more shuffling around.’
‘Music?’
‘Could you stand me singing in French?’
She looked at him incredulously. ‘You? Sing in French?’
He reached over for his pack, rummaged through a pocket and brought out his organiser in which were a dozen scraps of paper. He tipped them out and found three, put the rest back and turned to her. ‘You ready?’
It was an upbeat number by Cabrel and he half-read from the scrap of paper, near enough in tune:
‘Pas besoin de faire de trop longs discours,
Ça change tout dedans, ça change tout autour,
Pourvu que jamais tu ne t'éloignes,
Plus loin qu’un jet de sarbacane,
J’ai presque plus ma tête à moi,
Depuis toi.’
She stood stock still, staring at him, then broke into a smile he’d always remember. ‘Start again. Do you want me nue?’ She didn’t even wait for the answer but jumped up, disrobed and waited for him to start.
He did, in a low voice, she cavorted around the hut, not half bad but as she’d said - ‘idiosyncratique’, putting in thrusts and oscillations all over the place but with exceedingly graceful arm movements.
‘Alors te voilà bout de femme,
Comme soufflée d’une sarbacane.
Le ciel s’est ouvert par endroits,
Depuis toi.
Oh depuis toi ...’
She did one final pirouette and fell over. He skipped across and had her - it was close to brutal and the result was messy.
They lay panting for some time, getting their breath back, grinning, almost shocked how quickly a man and woman could get to that level so quickly.
‘Now for something a little different,’ he eventually said. He looked at the other scrap, mouthed the words a bit first and then delivered softly, gazing into her eyes:
‘Au fond de ses jeux de miroir
Elle a emprisonné mon image
Et même quand je suis loin le soir
Elle pose ses mains sur mon visage
J’ai brûlé tous mes vieux souvenirs
Depuis qu’elle a mon coeur en point de mire
Et je garde mes nouvelles images
Pour la fille avec qui je voyage’
That earned him a bearhug which almost squeezed the life out of him and a big sloppy kiss. ‘You had three pieces of paper. What was the other song?’
‘I’m not singing it to you.’
‘Oh?’
‘Je pense encore toi.’
‘Ah, yes, don’t sing that one to me.’ She shivered and held him close. ‘Why did you have those?’
‘I’ve always liked Cabrel, I thought I could work them in somehow, one day.’
‘Opportuniste.’
‘Mania for preparation.’
‘Make love to me again.’
XI
A complication was the general tightening of security in Europe for the 12th European Roundtable on Sustainable Consumption and Production and this would make movement all but impossible.
They were trapped unless they could move today or tomorrow.
Another factor was the World Cup, clearly an opportunity too good for the enemy to miss but when they’d strike was anyone’s guess. Geneviève asked Jean-Claude and Hugh why the ERSCP should affect them and Jean-Claude saw it this way:
It was well known that France hoped to make an impact in its EU presidency over security and border controls, Germany wished to stymie this. France therefore needed an event to illustrate the need. The conference was in Berlin for three days and delegates would be billeted in various places, some in the building Hugh’s safehouse would be located in.
If there were to be a terrorist attack, more sweeping controls could be brought in. After all, they’d managed it with 911 and 7/7, so why not again?
Geneviève decided to bring the changeover forward to the next day, uneasy about the other three houses, plus she wanted to try Francesca back with Thierry and to give Olivier and Gemma some space away from Papa’s disapproving gaze.
Francine had been observing matters for quite some time without comment but now she put a message on Conference. ‘Do the enemy want Hugh, do they want Nicolette or do they want both together? Do they want to kill or capture?'
Sophie-Fleury now had a proposal and everyone was keen to know her opinion. ‘Well,’ she typed in, ‘if Hugh and Nicolette were not in the same houses for a few days, that might tell us which one the enemy wants. It would also save at least one of them.’
Geneviève added, ‘There’s also evidence that Hugh is this Albus they spoke of and we know there is a Belus. This seems, to me, to be Emma. If Hugh and Nikki were willing, why don’t they, for two weeks, agree to be in different houses?’
‘No!’ Nikki immediately replied. ‘I don’t like it and you know very well why not. You know exactly how we both feel.’
‘Hugh?’ typed in Geneviève.
‘Nikki speaks for both of us.’
There was electronic silence for just under a minute, during which time a lot of thinking was going on.
‘Nikki,’ wrote Geneviève, ‘we’ll never know unless we do it.’
‘You know very well what you’re asking, both of you,’ she responded, ‘and I want you to know I’m upset that you could be so dishonest. Do you take me for a fool? I’m discussing this with Hugh for two hours now.’
‘Hugh?’
‘We don’t like this – we’re now going to discuss why you’re doing it. For two hours now,’ he added. There were smiles in some of the houses.
They got off their transponders, Geneviève shocked by the response but to Emma, it was predictable, as was Hugh’s support for Nikki. In fact, if he hadn’t supported Nikki, she, Emma, would have been most surprised and not at all sure she’d have liked it.
.o0o.
Nicolette climbed into bed beside him, quite agitated. ‘We knew this was coming and they were my closest friends. Tell me the truth - I know you supported me now but were you in this too?’
‘Not in the least - this is a new one on me. Do you feel there’s another traitor still not flushed out?’
‘Yes, very much so. But we could suspect anyone, for many reasons. Paul resenting being ignored, Jean-Claude because he is highly born, Emma for many reasons, Franka for hers, then Mademoiselle constantly undermining us.’
‘Yes but that might just be personal, that last one. Could be any one of us, could be Thierry ... we can make a case for anyone, as you say. For now though, we say no to moving. You send the message.’
‘You come with me.’
They went out and she sent it. There was a period of silence from all, then came a reply from Papillon, ‘How about you two, Francine and Jacques? I’m concerned you two have been coordinating too long without a break.’
‘We’re fine. Put up your house list and we’ll talk about it.’
Nikki turned to him. ‘It needed to be in that tone, Bebe. The traitor, if there still is one, will be worried that we know something and they’ll send One2Ones to each other. Bebe, we’re at a very dangerous stage. We are, geographically, quite near our own escape route we'd planned, we’ve saved most of that distance already here and we can get local help – I saw fishing boats. We have money, we can get more. We could suddenly skip over to our safe place and then we’re in someone else’s hands. The sad part is that we lose contact with SSF forever.’
‘Yep. Let’s look at Genie’s house plan when it comes and decide. Our long term though, Nikki, does not look good – they could track us down. We need to think our whole plan through again.’
.o0o.
Geneviève’s house plan was not forthcoming – instead, she One2Oned that it was now too dangerous to send a plan and she would One2One pairs one pair at a time and if they received nothing, then just stay put where they were. There was a communication ban on anyone One2Oneing.
This could be taken a number of ways – if Geneviève were the traitor, then she had now divided and ruled, if Emma, her communication channel was gone, if Thierry … well, you could make a case for anyone. Francine had been the one to suggest separate houses for the two of them and both were hurt by that. They simply didn’t know and it was most worrying.
‘Can’t we even go for a walk any more?’ asked Hugh.
‘Bebe, I don’t know. If we do and there are watchers, then that’s it. If they’re soon to target our hut, then it might be best to be away from it.’
‘If we walk through the huts until we get a fair way away, I know some places we could hide in, I saw them on the way in. We’ll leave all our gear, including the suits here, to indicate we’re returning, but dress native.’
‘No more One2Ones worries me.’
XII
Geneviève knew the Section was not happy but she’d arranged the current accommodation with Paul and her coordinating, Emma and Thierry as a house, the four young ones in their own house, Sophie-Fleury with Jacques … but Francine and Jean-Claude were on separate missions, the latter involving a hit some weeks from now.
Unfortunately, SSF had to score a success to keep the sponsorship coming in to pay safehouse staff, at least for the final safehouses. She realised that Hugh and Nikki no longer trusted her and she didn't blame them, so she’d sent Francine for that reason, Francine was already not far from them and should be there on the morrow.
XIII
They were staying in a hut they’d found and had decided to stay away during daylight, coming back at night.
They were carefully walking through the huts on their way back, pistols under their gear - it was Hugh who squeezed her arm and said to go ten more metres.
They went behind one of the huts and peered around it, back at the beach. There was an unknown sitting close to one of the empty huts adjoining the beach, sitting in a most unnative way, a way Nikki recognised. Near darkness was upon them and it was quite still, the spoken word could be heard at about ten metres they estimated.
He whispered in her ear that she needed to make up five words which would establish beyond all doubt that it was them, if the other was who they thought she was. It had to be something which could not have been learnt nor guessed by the enemy.
She thought and came up with, ‘La pâquerette does not smell.’
She spoke it, the unnative stood and moved behind the hut, the two of them slipped back inside their own safe-hut and waited.
She now appeared between their two huts and said softly, ‘Leurs fruits dégagent des odeurs qui attirent les insectes.’
‘Francine, come in here.’
She slipped in and sat on the grass floor – no matting in this hut – and they went through the to-and-fro with Nikki which the two had always had ready, then it moved to things which could not have been planned.
.o0o.
Now it was time for the documents, Nikki pored over them by her led light.
.o0o.
Francine noted that Hugh had drawn his weapon and was casually, nonchalantly, standing to one side, she also noted that when it was time for Francine to drop her attire to the ground, Hugh moved around side on, Francine smiled because she knew the whole routine.
Nikki also disrobed and the two women embraced.
Nikki went over and took his gun, he dropped his gear and embraced Francine too.
He went through everything Francine had had with her, checked the lining, checked every part and finally satisfied, they all dressed and lay in a three pointed star.
‘Speak,’ said Nikki.
‘Have you woken up that there’s another traitor, you two?’
‘Yes.’
‘I also know, as Nikki told me sometime ago, that you’re near an exit route for yourselves right here and the boat I came on will take us to that tonight. I’d not go back to your hut now – you’ve lost the armour and personal effects, sorry.’
‘We’ve all the things we need with us here.’
‘Except food – there will be snack type food in the boat. Our fisherman friend will go back later with his friend, take what there is and bury it in another part of the island.’
‘Journey time?’
‘Four hours getting here, we have six hours dark still, the sea is better now – maybe three and a half going back.’
‘Security?’ he asked.
‘Various checks. We have to walk near the point now, so let’s get going, apart but within sight.’
XIII
‘Wouldn’t make for a very interesting tale,’ thought Hugh, ‘were someone to write the story as a novel.’
Nothing had happened on the boat trip, the wind and waves had stayed down, no one seemed to be anywhere, and here they were in this bizarre situation of being guests in a normal house, not like the safehouses they’d had, now sitting about, having just tucked away a chicken chasseur apiece.
The hostess, the wife, was now pouring the coffee. She'd soon depart for their own cottage a short distance away.
Said Francine: ‘Mademoiselle wants you back in position, Hugh, for Jean-Claude and you to do your business.’
She now explained the Niedelmeier story and they had to own – it had a certain piquancy to it. This was the real name of an investment banker from Vienna who, they were seemingly reliably informed, was one of the council they’d been trying to infiltrate through their backers. At least, everything pointed to him being one. He was the one visiting this banker’s conference and the one who’d be in that hotel on the required day.
The staff would lift him and he’d be taken to a stately home they’d hire for the day, to be met by Jean-Claude and Hugh in the guise of people vastly more important in the world of the Seven than they were.
‘Jean-Claude and I would need to meet to plan and order the equipment.’
‘You will meet at the stately home but not before. I’m afraid the preparation will have to be done off-air. This is the support staff’s last act of support in a way. But we still have to get you, Hugh, into position and that’s why I’m here, also to stay with Nikki. Hugh, you’ll need to go tomorrow.’
.o0o.
‘You’re not happy,’ observed Nikki beside him in the comfiest bed they’d had in a long while, ‘and I know why. It was me looking at that crewman and him flirting. Hugh, do you remember when I said you could have had any girls in your apartement and I would never have known - do you remember what you said to me in return?’
‘All right, point taken. I don’t want to lose you through mistrust.’
‘And as you said, it works both ways. And Bebe, even though you and I need to make love, we also need to bring Francine in here at least for awhile, not leave her out there. How do you feel about her being in our bed for a short time?’
’More to the point is how you feel.’
’We need to. I’m going for her.’
She was in the kitchen, Francine, leaning on the benchtop, and her delight was obvious as Nikki asked her to come. When she actually got there though, there were decisions to make. Nikki said Franka would have to disrobe as they did, so she immediately disrobed, which was not quite what Nikki had had in mind.
Next came who lay where and Francine had views on this, she asked if it would be all right to say them. They said of course.
‘Hugh has the dangerous journey tomorrow and if Nikki and I put him in the middle and give him pleasure, then it might seem good to him but I believe we should not tempt fate. I believe there are things we should not do. If I’m up next to Hugh, body to body, there’s going to be sex, there is no question about this, no question, nothing to do with promises and resolutions. Testing things like that makes no sense because people who love one another will do that, nothing to do with promises or being strong or anything.’
He agreed, Nikki thought about it. ‘But that’s me getting all the pleasure. For now, Franka, you get in over there, I’ll be in the middle,’ she shuffled across, ‘here.’
She got in, Hugh asked if he could put his view. ‘Nikki's got this idea all women have, that even if she has a man hot and bothered, even at the last second if she says no, then it's no.' Francine agreed. 'I'm not disagreeing with that, it's happened a couple of times in the past with me, I accept that principle.'
’I wouldn't do that to you though,’ Nikki smiled and Francine concurred.
’That bit's fine then. Where the problem is that you two, not being men, can't feel as a man feels inside. You can see it working, just as I can see what works with you. I know where to rub your calves or your toes or even talk about them and there's a point where you can't come back from it once it starts, providing everything else is fine. OK so far?'
'Go on,' they both said.
For a man, every part of you triggers him - it could be your toes pointing down, it could be some mannerism - and I mean it really does trigger him. The Muslims aren't entirely wrong in putting women in sacks. You girls know what works, you can observe, you can pull triggers, but I'm not totally sure how much you understand, really understand how it takes over a man's entire metabolism at that moment -’
‘I accept that,’ Francine took it up. ‘It's almost like remote control or something - we see the effect but can't feel it inside ourselves. But we do what we know works. Very strange way for two people to operate.'
They were quiet a few moments and then he said, ‘That afternoon with Nikki, anything would have set me off - her feet, hands, voice, anything. And Franka, my former love - with you too, but you know all that.’
'And the point?' asked Nikki.
'Don't know really, just thought I'd say it.'
'I have a point,' said Francine. 'Something which has been worrying me. They were all ears. ‘Well, I know you’re not happy with me, either of you, for suggesting you go to different houses. I know that – it was just spite, frustration. I swear I’m not the traitor but I do think I know who it is, I’ll keep that to myself because I have no proof, I just think I know.’
‘All right,’ said Nikki, ‘but can that person harm us here or Hugh when he goes tomorrow or even me?’
‘I can’t see how.' Francine went quiet. Then: ‘I needed both of you so badly. I lost my reason. I must go with Jean or Jacques -’
‘Paul?’ asked Nikki.
‘He’s keen on Mademoiselle. You don’t know what it did for me, Hugh, you reaffirming me and then I had to have you.’ Francine was crying. ‘You see, mes petites, despite your kindness, I know how I look now, these are life’s realities. I feel the world is coming to an end.’
Said Hugh: ‘Skin blemishes do not count when people have been lovers for some time. It doesn’t kill the memories, that person still sees and feels the other moving as he remembers.’ Nikki squeezed his hand for that one.
Francine had been thinking. ‘You two need to say farewell to each other, say your sweet nothings privately. How long do you need?’
’Thirty minutes,’ said Nikki. ‘But after that, pour drinks and bring snacks, and don’t mind if we’re finishing. Or is that too cruel?’
Francine climbed out and went to put in thirty minutes - they could hear her in the kitchen preparing the snacks. ‘Hugh,’ whispered Nikki, ‘are you sure she’s no traitor?’
'It's more whether you think so.'
She thought seriously about it. ‘I’m pretty certain, I tried a few traps she fell into earlier which showed me she actually wasn’t. We can’t know but I’d say not. Bebe, time’s running out, shall we get straight down to it? Keep it simple.’
.o0o.
They were pretty much into a rhythm when Franka reappeared, placing the snacks on the side tables with the cognacs, she then said she was going to find a half hour cartoon to watch.
They disengaged, Nikki suddenly asked her, 'Where would you feel less uncomfortable, tell us. Out there watching something or in here with us? We've finished ... that.'
'You're ok with that, Hugh?' asked Francine.
'First off, of course I am, climb in over there, don't stand there getting cold.' She did. 'The only two things on my mind about both of you are firstly that I would never stand a second man in here, you know that ... and the other is that there always seems less anxiety about these things between women. I've seen them holding hands and I could swear they're not that way.'
Neither could find anything to say. He grinned and went on: 'Look, you two need to talk in rapid French. Do you want me elsewhere, does me being here stop you opening up? I can go to Franka's bed.'
'I'll say it,' stepped in Francine. 'I've no objection at all to you being there, Beb ... er Hugh but we can do that tomorrow, Nikki and I have time. It's you and Nikki time now. Nikki?'
'Hugh?' asked Nikki.
'Right,' he replied. 'let's do it this way - you two go to Franka's bed, I'll try to snooze, Nikki comes back later, or maybe not if she prefers.'
The two women looked at each other. Both climbed out and went to the other room.
.o0o.
He couldn't sleep, not with those two talking rapidly through there and what's more, he understood some of it. Then it went silent and he thought about that too.
Finally he was about to drop off when in came Nikki ... er ... actually it wasn't. Francine climbed in and the body language said no sex, just hold me. He did.
.o0o.
After ten minutes of the deepest entwining short of ... that ... she got out and went to send Nikki back.
He was lying on his back, hands behind his head when she got back in and cuddled up.
'So?' she asked.
''Thank you, of course thank you but also - did you get the things said which you wanted?'
'Yes, all is clear, we covered a lot of ground, the past, the present, the future. Franka's so tired but she's also as happy as anything.'
'Good. And you?'
'Worried about you tomorrow. Let's just cuddle now and fall asleep. You want?'
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