The Peace of the Ten-Year-Olds
A Noir fanfic
by hkmiller
2 March 2004 - prereader draft
15 March 2004 - FFML draft
20 March-18 May 2004 - Changes based on FFML feedback
The characters of Noir were created by Ryoe Tsukimura and Yoko
Kikuchi, and are copyrighted by A.D.Vision, Inc. in the USA and
Ryoe Tsukimura / Bee Train / Victor Entertainment in Japan.
No disrespect intended by my unlicensed usage.
This is a continuation, so it contains spoilers for the entire
series, as well as mild shoujo-ai and not-so-mild violence.
Thanks to pre-readers Michael A. Chase and Zorknot, without whom
this fanfic would not be nearly whatever it is. (But blame me,
not them, for its shortcomings.)
- - - - - - - - - -
The pain fooled you, Boris Sarkhovsky thought. The throbbing ache
he now felt constantly seemed as bad as it could get, only to be
proven wrong by the white-hot, searing agony each time the barbed
whip struck. He spasmed, wrists cutting in the chains that bound
them. The eye he could still open cleared momentarily, and he saw
a thin, red stream of blood on the floor, flowing out through an
ancient stone drain.
"You WILL tell me, old man, now or later!"
Boris could no longer see his tormentor clearly in the dim light
filtering into this dungeon from somewhere above, but he could
still hear the oily hatred in that voice. The owner of that voice
was furious that anyone else had the gall to go on living without
his leave. "How long will you hold out when we begin smashing
your granddaughters' faces with a sledge hammer? The last thing
their eyes see in this world will be your obstinate refusal to
save them."
- - - - - - - - - -
Kirika Yuumura woke to the sound of gunshots. She felt the warm
body behind her tense up. She released Mireille's encircling arm,
which she found she'd been clutching to the bandages over her
stomach wound. Sweeping the wool blankets off them both, she got
to her feet quickly, even as her head turned, seeking the
direction from which the sound had come.
"Over there, I think," Mireille whispered as the blonde pointed.
"Through those trees. Not more than a few hundred meters."
"Ummn," Kirika murmured, nodding agreement, brushing her untidy
mop of dark hair out of her eyes.
Kirika and Mireille ran lightly over the dewy grass to the
nearest stretch of wood. Behind them, the morning sunlight caught
Mireille's rented Range Rover as it filtered through the trees.
In this stretch of the Pyrenees, people were far and few between,
so they'd been forced to camp when Mireille proved too exhausted
to drive farther. Kirika saw no sign that any human had visited
this small clearing in many years. Mireille had her gun, Kirika
noted with relief, held carefully, pointing up. Kirika did not
waste time wishing she still had hers.
Inside the wood, each took turns covering the other's advance as
they crept from tree to rock to bush in near-total silence, both
alert for hand-signals from the other. Reaching the edge of
another clearing, Kirika dropped to the ground and peered through
a shrub while Mireille watched her carefully from behind a nearby
tree, where Mireille's lighter hair would not be visible to
whoever lay beyond.
Kirika's eyes widened. It was a small clearing, with a deep,
wooded ravine on her right, more forest on the far side and to her
left. A Toyota Land Cruiser sat on a dirt track, just inside the
woods to her left. Five men in dark suits stood in the clearing,
two keeping watch while the others did the dirty work. One was just
pushing a dead male body, thirty-something, into the ravine while
the other was hefting the corpse of a woman of about the same age.
A fifth man was video-taping the dumping of the bodies. Two young
girls, huddled on the ground in terror, sniffled, their feet tied
together to prevent escape, mouths gagged. One clutched a doll of
some sort. For just a moment, Kirika saw another girl, a blonde,
appear in their place. Kirika blinked, and the illusion
disappeared.
"Dump their mother after the father. Once you're sure the tape's
okay, we'll tie the kids back up and leave. The boss wants them
done slowly, with his 'client' watching," one of the men
keeping watch said gruffly.
Kirika glanced back at Mireille, only to see her own horror echoed
there. Peering forward again, Kirika gave Mireille a quick series
of left-handed signals: 'five total', your two are 'there' and
'there', 'go on two'. Kirika took one last deep breath and darted
from concealment, running in a crouch straight for the nearest
guard.
Mireille's first shot dropped that same man just as Kirika reached
him. Diving, Kirika caught the dropped gun and somersaulted twice,
twisting to the side as she did so. Two shots spurted into the
dirt bare inches to her right.
Kirika performed a shoulder roll to get to her feet in one motion
just as Mireille's third shot finally downed the second watchman.
Spinning and crouching, Kirika fired two quick shots and dropped
the two men who'd been carrying bodies. That made four down.
Unfortunately, Kirika's gun clicked on an empty chamber for the
fifth and last man. But the gun had good balance by its feel;
Kirika flipped it around, without looking, so that she held it by
the barrel, and threw.
The heavy barrel hit the cameraman on one temple, stunning him.
Kirika followed right behind it without waiting for it to hit.
Behind and to one side of the cameraman, she kicked the back of
his right knee, dropping the man to his knees, while rifling
through his camerabag with her left hand. Ah, the recharge cord.
Kirika flipped it around the cameraman's throat and caught the
other end in her right hand, then tightened and twisted, using
her weight for extra leverage.
Grimacing at the pain from her abdomen, Kirika unholstered the
cameraman's unused gun and got slowly to her feet, alert for any
movement. Mireille emerged from the wood, poised to act. Without
a word, the two women moved slowly into a back-to-back position,
careful never to obstruct the other's line of sight. They circled
the clearing, carefully checking the bodies to make sure all five
were dead. As they passed the ravine, Kirika looked down into it.
A near-vertical cliff dropped two hundred feet straight down to a
rushing river. There was no sign of either body. Just above the
torrent, a small piece of cloth, the same yellow as the woman's
dress, flapped, caught on a root or a rock.
Finally they deemed it safe, at least for now. Mireille kneeled,
using her unbandaged leg, and removed the girls' gags. "Are you
all right?" Mireille asked in French. When neither showed any
sign of comprehension, Mireille repeated it in English.
The two girls were of an age, and dressed similarly, but
obviously not related. One was oriental and dark-skinned,
probably from South-East Asia, and the shorter of the two by a
few inches. The other looked to be from northern India or Pakistan,
and was as tall as Kirika, though even thinner. Both wore
American-made bluejeans, casual tops showing a bit of bare midriff,
and designer running shoes.
"We're fine," replied the Indian girl in an American accent. "But
what about our mother and father?" she asked urgently.
Kirika shook her head sadly. "There's nothing we can do. Their
bodies have been swept down the river. I'm sorry."
Both girls looked bleak and somber at that, but neither started to
cry, which Mireille thought strange. They stood up, holding
hands, both eying their rescuers uncertainly.
The Indian-looking girl suppressed a giggle as she threw a glance
at Kirika, earning her an elbow to the ribs from her frowning
companion. Ignoring this, the Indian girl asked, "Do you two
always rescue damsels in distress while dressed like that?
Doesn't it get cold?"
Kirika looked down at herself blankly, then up at Mireille. Both
were still dressed in exactly what they'd worn to sleep the night
before: Kirika in nothing but shiny gold briefs (part of the
ceremonial outfit she'd donned yesterday), plus the bandage over
her stomach. Mireille wore only a black bra and panties, plus
bandages wrapped around her right thigh and right upper arm.
Mireille just rolled her eyes. "Yes, we make six impossible
rescues every day before breakfast, dressed in our underwear.
Now, you can call me Mary, and her Carrie; what shall we call the
two of you?"
The Indian girl spoke first. "I'm Aditi Sarkhovsky."
"And I'm Tati Sarkhovsky," added the Asian girl. "We're ten."
Mireille asked, "Do you know if there are any more of those men
around? Or if any more of them are coming?"
The two girls just grinned at each other, in what looked for all
the world like glee, before the words started coming, the girls
interrupting each other in their excitement.
"The car dropped two more men off just a little bit before we
stopped, scouts or lookouts!"
"Their car has a radio in it, and they were probably supposed to
call their boss when they were finished here! Or he could call
them!"
"And the boss's hideout can't be very far away; it took us less
than an hour to get here, on that bumpy dirt road!"
"There's more men at the hideout! At least another ten or
twelve!"
"And he's got Grandfather! You've got to rescue him before they
get the secret information out of him!"
Without a word, Kirika nodded to Mireille, then ghosted into the
woods at a trot, collecting a second dropped gun in passing.
"Could you two PLEASE keep it to a whisper? I'll stay here to
guard you. Now, as soon as I've untied you, I want you to go hide
in that big bush over there, okay? And BE QUIET."
- - - - - - - - - -
Making her way through the trees parallel to the dirt track, alert
for any sound, Kirika thought about her stomach wound. It was
starting to hurt again, and it didn't look like they'd get any
medical attention for quite a while yet. Untreated stomach wounds
could be very dangerous, Kirika knew. Without quite knowing why,
Kirika's eyes started to catalog the vegetation around her. These
woods were thick, not alpine, with lots of vines running up the
tree trunks. Roots and mushrooms peered out from under the fallen
leaves.
There! The bark of that shrub would do. Without stopping, Kirika
stooped to peel some off, then put it in her mouth and started
chewing it, careful not to swallow. It tasted awful. She looked
at the brown stain on her hand thoughtfully, then began rubbing
it across her face, chest, and legs in broad streaks.
No sign of the lookouts; Kirika circled around, crossing the dirt
track and starting back on the other side. After going just a
short way, she noticed that she could glimpse Mireille's Range
Rover through the trees, still exactly where they'd parked it last
night after leaving the Manor, too exhausted to go on. The
lookouts would definitely have noticed that, so Kirika turned in
that direction and slowed, moving more stealthily.
- - - - - - - - - -
"So you're both adopted? And you were mostly raised by your
grandfather?" Mireille asked, summarizing what they'd just told
her. She stood crouched behind a tree next to the girls, her eyes
constantly searching the wood. Javanese and Punjabi by origin,
Mireille thought, raised in Russia and America.
"Mother and Father worked most of the time. They traveled a lot,
too. I think they only adopted us because Grandpa liked us, and
they thought we'd be cheap company for him," the Javanese girl,
Tati, remarked quietly.
Both girls were pretty thin, Mireille saw, but seemed well-
muscled for their age, as if they were used to playing outdoors
a lot. Both girls had their hair cut the same, short bangs in
front and a shoulder-length pigtail behind.
Their doll wasn't anything like her own had been, Mireille noted
absently. It was a poseable plastic figure, like a Barbie, but
dressed in a green t-shirt, suspenders, and hiking boots, with
twin holsters at its hips. What kind of little girls played with
a doll like that?
"And what does your grandfather know, that this 'boss' is so
eager to get out of him? What is your grandfather's job?"
"Grandpa is a priest, Russian Orthodox," Aditi said indignantly,
raising her voice slightly. "He's never hurt anyone!"
Mireille gestured to her to keep it down. "And this boss? Who is
he?"
"I didn't understand that part. He's a 'You-Skal' something..."
"You-Skal-Dune," Tati clarified.
"But the other ones don't like him 'cause he's too violent. And
the people who aren't 'You-Skal-Dune' don't like him either."
"Euskaldun?" Mireille asked, recognizing the Basques' name for
themselves. That would make sense for a Basque terrorist group to
have a hideout just over the border in France, but still well
hidden in the Pyrenees. But what DID they want with the girls'
grandfather? Well, it had nothing to do with her or Kirika;
they'd just drop off the girls at a police station and be on their
way, as soon as Kirika finished the two lookouts.
- - - - - - - - - -
Kirika saw ruefully that she was too late. The Range Rover's
hood was up; clearly they'd disabled the engine. One of the
men was searching their scant possessions; the other was just
disappearing into the trees, moving carefully in Mireille's
direction with gun ready.
Neither of Kirika's guns were silenced. The man would turn back
if she fired. She emptied her first gun at the nearer man, then
dropped it and fled back into the woods, grimacing. Certainly the
gun was unfamiliar, but even so, it must have been very badly
maintained. When the first two shots were so far off, she'd
corrected her aim, but still only managed to hit her target twice,
once in an arm and once in a leg.
After crashing through brush deliberately for twenty meters,
Kirika stopped. This tree looked good; it would appear
unclimbable to those men. She would have to get very close;
she dare not trust the second gun at long range. Her briefs
would serve as a good decoy; they were shiny enough.
Kirika arranged her briefs so they were just visible through a
pile of leaves, then started climbing. It was difficult with
the gun, but she could climb anything offering finger- and
toe-nail-holds. She fired her gun once on the way up, just to
make sure the men were still headed in her direction.
From above, unmoving, she watched the two thugs approach, one
limping and cursing, both wary, eyes sweeping the terrain. She
saw the one spot her briefs and point, then watched both carefully
advance. They fired in unison into the pile of leaves, then
strode forward more confidently. Kirika judged that the man she
hadn't hit had the more accurate gun, and it was a Beretta M1934
like her own.
Kirika waited until the two were directly below her, then let
herself fall, feet first, silently. She came down balanced on
one foot on top of her target's head, but off-center so her weight
would force the head sharply sideways. As she hit, she emptied
her second gun into the limping man, correcting after each shot.
As soon as she heard her landing point's neck snap, she went
limp again, falling atop the man so his body would cushion her
fall and she wouldn't break or sprain an ankle.
After checking both men, she retrieved her briefs and the Beretta,
then rejoined Mireille and the girls.
- - - - - - - - - -
The Range Rover wouldn't start. Mireille kept turning the key and
pressing the accelerator. Kirika looked at the engine, but
nothing came to her. It seemed she'd never been trained on car
engines, and Mireille knew nothing about them either. They'd have
to take the villains' Toyota to get out of here, which presented a
further problem.
"The track it's sitting on isn't shown on our maps," Kirika
noted. "And we can't drive it here through the trees."
"We just have to backtrack. We're bound to hit a meadow or
something, then we can angle back to the way we came in!"
Mireille, now fully dressed in her red blouse and black leather
slit mini-skirt, set about gathering her scattered possessions.
Kirika finished donning the rest of her golden Greecian dress,
leggings, gloves, and sandals.
"The track may lead straight back to this boss's house."
"We're not going there! This isn't anything to do with us!
Let the police rescue the girls' grandfather! It's not our
business to rescue hostages without pay!" Mireille ranted,
switching to French.
"The peace of the newly-born, their black hands protect," Kirika
murmured.
"What?" Mireille was surprised at the apparent non-sequitur.
"It's part of the oath, the Noir oath. And we are Noir now, for
real. Maybe this IS our job, now. Maybe our path only crossed
theirs because we completed the ceremony."
Mireille's eyes and mouth rounded in astonishment for a moment,
then she rolled her eyes heavenward. "You think it's now our JOB
to risk our lives protecting the peace of ten-year-old girls,
without getting paid for it?"
"We don't need the money," Kirika pointed out. "Altena saw to
that. And you heard what else she said."
That caught Mireille off-guard. She remembered the day before...
- - - - - - - - - -
Mireille finished pulling Kirika from the pit, still
teary-eyed and sniffling. Once Kirika was well clear,
she wrapped her arms around Kirika and hugged the
smaller woman desperately.
"Idiot! Don't you EVER do that to me again! Kirika...
I was so miserable with you gone. I hated living. Please,
don't ever leave me again! I need you!"
"But, Mireille, what about our promise?" Kirika still
looked worried and upset, a small part of Mireille noticed,
and she had not returned the hug yet.
"I'm breaking it. I am not killing you, now or ever. I can't.
I couldn't in that graveyard. I can't now. I won't ever be
able to. You'll just have to live with it."
"But your parents..."
"...gave their lives for my happiness," Mireille interrupted.
You owe it to them to make me happy, Kirika. And I won't
be happy unless you are alive and with me. So you have to
live. Don't you want to be happy? Your letter said you were
happy with me."
Now Kirika's eyes were filled with tears of happiness, and
Mireille felt the pressure of Kirika returning her hug.
"Yes. I was happy. Mireille, you mean so much to me. I'll
do anything for you, anything at all if it makes you happy."
"Then you have to live. You mean everything to me, too,
my dearest Kirika. I need you." Mireille was enchanted to
see a wide smile on Kirika's face, bigger than any she'd ever
seen there. It made her look so glorious.
After a few minutes, they stood, wiping the tears from
each other's eyes. "Come, we'd better get going; it must be
dark by now."
They were just reaching the foot of the stairs, arms supporting
each other, when it happened. A hidden panel in the wall rose
up and a television monitor behind it came on. Altena's face
appeared. "Whoever sees this recording will have passed the
final tests and completed the ceremony by now. I will be dead,
of course, as my life is the final sacrifice. You two are now
Noir, now and forever, irrevocably."
Kirika cried out a denial at that, and Mireille made a rude
sound, but both kept listening.
"I cannot know or control what you will want to do at this
point, but I know what Noir is, and I am confident that your
tasks will find you. There is more to Noir than a pair of
tightly-bound maidens. Every part of the Oath applies. You
reign over death. You protect the newly born. You shield the
nursing babes. And you are a lure to the lost children. You
will not be able to escape this ancient fate.
"Noir will need resources to do its work. In the drawer
beneath this screen is a folder containing information:
numbered bank accounts in Switzerland, Lichtenstein, and the
Cayman Islands holding Soldats funds for which I was trustee.
Should one of you be Mireille Bouquet, you may wish to know
that your parents' non-Corsican holdings comprise one of these
accounts."
Mireille tightened her grip on Kirika, involuntarily.
"Kirika and Chloe, should you survive, you may want to know
that those are your real given names. I am sorry that I
cannot tell you your parents' real names, but withholding
them was a condition for giving you up." Altena quirked a
smile. "They were all quite uncomfortable with the notion
that a Noir whom they'd abandoned would ever be able to
find them again. Kirika, one of the sheets of paper inside
the folder is an outline of where you've been and what you've
done during your life; I hope it will help you to avoid
crossing paths with many of those who might feel a need for
revenge upon you. But be warned: you will not be able to
avoid all of them."
Mireille felt Kirika shiver.
"The rest of the material consists of organizational charts
and contact data for those parts of the Soldats leadership
which I know, and credentials for accessing a copy of those
parts of their intelligence database to which I had access,
which I've stored, encrypted, at an off-shore web-site."
Altena smiled. "Good luck, Noir; I will not be able to
watch over you, but my best wishes are with you forever."
The tape ended. Mireille and Kirika glanced at each other
in astonishment, then reached for the drawer as one.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Okay, we don't need the money. We don't have to work any more
at all. So why do we want to have anything to do with this?"
Mireille asked, clenching one fist.
"We both have many enemies, survivors of those we have killed. We
have to stay in practice, face real danger, in case they come
after us. Why not this?"
Mireille sighed. Kirika's logic was uncomfortable, but she
saw the point. But did it have to be THIS job? When they
were still both wounded? Couldn't they at least get back to
Paris first, have a cup of hot tea?
"I guess we'll take it as it comes. Let's pick up this stuff
and get going, at least, before any reinforcements arrive."
- - - - - - - - - -
The two girls had been quiet while Noir conferred in French,
but as soon as Mireille and Kirika turned, lifted their bundles,
and started walking, the floodgates opened.
"Are you guys detectives?" Aditi asked eagerly. "Or secret
agents? Or superheros?"
"No, they're millionaire archaeologists who travel the world
righting wrongs and befriending girls like us everywhere they go!"
Tati replied, waving her doll around in the air.
"How do champions of justice like you guys get to be so good
with guns and knives and things? Can you teach us? That would
be so cool!" Aditi mimed shooting an imaginary gun. "Blam,
blam!"
"Can we help you beat up the bad guys? We've had judo lessons."
Mireille and Kirika froze, horrified. "NO!" they expostulated
in unison.
"You don't want to be like us at all!" Kirika insisted. "We've
had very unhappy lives. Don't you want to be normal? To be
happy?"
"We're only as proficient as we are because many bad things have
happened to us," Mireille added. "And we're not champions of
justice or anything like that. We're not the good guys. We've
done many bad things. You really, really don't want to be like
us, or even to know us."
"Alone against the underworld, you travel the world, beating up
bad guys, protecting the innocent, stealing from the rich and
giving to the poor, forsaking romance, relying only on each other
and your faithful apprentices, Tati and Aditi!" Tati pronounced
proudly, darting behind a tree to fire imaginary bullets at
Aditi, who fired back from beneath a bush.
"No! We're not like that at all! And you're not going to be
our apprentices! We don't have apprentices!" Mireille
shouted desperately.
"Maybe they have handsome spy boyfriends, who constantly watch
over them and will show up any minute now to help us!" Aditi
speculated excitedly, engaging in mock karate against Tati.
"We don't have any boyfriends," Kirika replied, beginning to
despair of bringing these two under control.
"You seek solace and comfort only in each other, lesbian lovers
who can never trust a man lest he betray you to a sudden and
violent death!" Tati rejoined as she judo-threw Aditi over her
shoulder into the grass, then leapt on top of her.
Kirika pursed her lips. A bit florid, but that seemed fair, if
redundant. A lesbian was a woman who lived with and loved another
woman, right? Surely that described her and Mireille, and she'd
overheard some of their neighbors use the word a time or two.
"You've got to be kidding," Mireille said loudly and peremptorily.
"Do we look like lesbians?" Mireille rolled her eyes, her voice
dripping with scorn. Mireille pointed to herself while glaring at
the girls.
The two girls' eyes got very wide. They stopped wrestling
each other and fell very silent.
Kirika stared at Mireille, eyes wide. What was Mireille saying?
Was Mireille denying that the two of them lived together?
Mireille glanced at Kirika and suddenly stopped cold. Why was
Kirika looking at her with such a devastated expression? She put
one hand on Kirika's shoulder. "What's wrong?" she murmured,
switching back to French.
"Mireille... do you want me to move out?" Kirika struggled to
get the question out through her constricted throat.
"WHAT? No, of course not!" Mireille looked Kirika in the eyes,
puzzled, then understanding slowly dawned. "Oh, Kirika, God, I
didn't think, I'm so stupid," she murmured. "I didn't even think
about what your feelings might be!
Mireille took a few moments to sort through what she wanted to
say. She had to get it right, this time. "Kirika, I love you,
please believe me. And I like living with you. It's just... I
have some issues... with that word. About being labeled with that
word. They're my issues, not yours. We can talk about it
sometime, if you want; but it may take a while." Mireille took
Kirika's hand and gave it a quick squeeze of reassurance.
Kirika offered her a tentative half-smile, but Mireille knew
she'd hurt Kirika. She just didn't know how much.
- - - - - - - - - -
It was easy to start up the Land Rover once they reached it; the
key was still in the ignition. As Mireille started driving
slowly back down the track, Kirika broke open the trail bars and
passed them out to the girls. Aditi gleefully opened her and was
about to bite it when Tati elbowed her.
"We can't eat these yet. We have to wash our hands first," Tati
explained. "Grandpa always insisted on it. He said if we
didn't, we'd get smallpox and die horribly."
"Or just be marked with nasty pox-marks all over our faces for
the rest of our lives." Aditi added. "Grandpa was a scientist
studying germs back in Russia, before he became a priest, so we
figured he knew what he was talking about."
Something very cold formed in the pit of Mireille's stomach. "Did
your grandfather talk about smallpox often? Or other diseases?"
"Well... one time he talked about the ebola virus all afternoon,
about how fast it kills people. It was kind of creepy, really."
"And he used to say that if we ate our spinach, we'd grow up to
be as hearty and long-lived as anthrax spores."
Sighing, Mireille glanced at Kirika. "You win. We'd better
go save their grandfather before these Basque terrorists obtain
smallpox virus or something equally lethal. But you girls,"
Mireille warned sternly, "are NOT coming, understand! You're
going to stay with the car, well away from the action, even if
we have to tie you up!"
Aditi and Tati nodded solemnly, but Mireille caught them smirking
at each other and sighed again.
"Make yourselves useful, why don't you? Take some paper and
pencils out of that box and start drawing floor plans for the
place where they're holding your grandfather. And tell us
everything you know about these Basques holding your grandfather.
Everything."
"We couldn't understand what they said to each other, so we
don't know much," Aditi admitted.
"Not even the Devil can learn the Basque language," Mireille
quoted the old saying, nodding.
"Actually, I know a little Euskara," Kirika remarked absently,
turning on the car's radio and putting the earphones on.
"You would," Mireille muttered.
"The boss's name is Lash-out, I think?" Tati remarked, looking to
Aditi for confirmation.
"Josh Lash-out," Aditi nodded.
Mireille went cold. Joxe Laxalt? He led a tiny group which had
splintered from the main ETA, or "Basque Homeland and Freedom"
organization, originally over tactics. Laxalt favored less
discrimination in the choice of targets. The split had become
deadly enmity when Laxalt led an ambush which decimated the main
wing's leaders. Laxalt was a hunted man even among his own people,
one with a reputation not just for utter ruthlessness, but for
sadistic enjoyment of the work, and for deliberately targeting
women and children.
Mireille shook her head ruefully. Was Kirika right? Less than
twenty-four hours after completing the Noir ceremony, and they
found themselves up against the murderer of at least a dozen
nursing babes.
The track they were on wound through a wooded hollow with a
stream to their right. There was now a steep hill to their left,
in the direction their Range Rover lay. It was beginning to seem
as if they had no choice in the matter.
"Four more men are just leaving now to investigate," Kirika
reported, intent on the radio. "They're saying it will be fifty
minutes before they can expect a report."
"And we've been driving for ten," Mireille added. "Start looking
for some place to set up our ambush."
"Why don't we just hide and let them go past us?" Tati asked
curiously. "Can't we just outsmart them?"
"We can't leave enemies behind us," Kirika replied, puzzled
at the question. "They might return unexpectedly and catch us on
both sides. We have to kill these men now."
"Oh." Aditi and Tati looked at each other, subdued. "That's
not how it works on TV," Tati muttered to Aditi.
- - - - - - - - - -
They chose a spot with an abrupt turn in the road. The steep
hill, a cliff at this point, blocked one side of the road, and the
stream blocked the other, a few boulders in its midst. Mireille
parked the Toyota in the middle of the track right after the turn,
so that the oncoming car wouldn't be able to stop until just
before hitting the Toyota.
"You girls walk back down the way we came, past that tree, and
hide behind those rocks, you understand? And STAY there until we
call."
The two girls nodded, then walked back down the track, whispering
to each other in some language Mireille didn't know. She had no
idea what it might be. The two girls looked back frequently,
she noted, and seemed to smirk or giggle each time.
"To the depths of hell's fire, their black souls lure the lost
children," Kirika murmured, watching them.
Mireille closed her eyes momentarily, in the midst of cleaning
her gun. "Another part of the oath?" she asked wearily.
"Ummn. Altena said we would be a lure to lost children. I
wonder if this is what she meant." Kirika carefully inspected
both sides of the barrel, then, saying "there we go" under her
breath, began reassembling her gun.
"I'll come up behind them; you find some cover here," Mireille
suggested.
"Ummn."
Mireille trotted up the track about twenty meters past the point
where they'd have to stop, then moved into the trees.
Kirika looked about herself for a moment. Cliff, stream, track.
An idea occurred to her, and she again began taking off her
clothes.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Joxe was pretty angry when those guys didn't report back," one
of the men in the back seat ventured.
"Probably their damn radio just broke or something, but I sure
wouldn't want to be in their shoes when they get back," the
driver added.
"Xaber will be lucky if he gets away with ten lashes, you ask
me, he being in charge and all."
The driver cursed and braked abruptly. He barely managed to
stop their car before it hit the other. "What the hell is their
car doing here?!" He got out in a strangled voice. "Xaber
couldn't even spare a man to warn us?"
The driver got out, slamming his door, and strode over to give
Xaber and his men a piece of his mind. Behind him, the other
three men in his car got out more slowly and carefully, guns
ready. Alfonso, the slowest, stumbled and fell just as he got
out.
The Land Cruiser was empty inside, except for a gold cloth of
some sort, folded, lying on the passenger-side seat. The driver
looked around, perplexed, then put his hands to his mouth to
shout. The sound of a nearby shot caused him to duck behind
the truck instead. He looked around. He'd only heard one shot,
but all three of the men who'd come with him were down. One
silenced gun, a second unsilenced, then. Easing around the car
slowly, he carefully looked around the corner. Nothing but the
boulder-strewn stream. Where were the attackers?
The driver had taken two steps forward when it happened. One of
the boulders suddenly unfolded itself and stood up. He had just
enough time to realize that it was now a naked oriental girl
when the gun in her hand spoke.
Mireille and Kirika slowly walked out from the hiding places,
eyes watchful for any movement by the bodies.
"That was SO COOL!" Aditi yelled down from the top of the cliff.
"You guys killed all four of them just like that!" Tati added
from beside her, eyes shining in adoration. "I wish we could do
that!"
"No, you DON'T!" Mireille and Kirika yelled in desperation.
"Just get down here!"
While the girls descended, Mireille and Kirika checked the guns
and ammunition on the fallen. Mireille found more ammunition,
but Kirika did not. None of the men had a silencer, either, so
Kirika still had to do without.
- - - - - - - - - -
"They're following us again," Kirika remarked as the pair moved
carefully forward through the ancient stone sheep-pen towards the
main house.
"Damn it! How did they get loose? We can't afford to go back
and tie them up more securely; we're too close!"
"Ummn," Kirika agreed, nodding. "If one of us stays put when
we split up, they'll have to follow that one."
Joxe Laxalt's hideout had turned out to be an old, abandoned manor
house, once somewhat fortified but now partially in ruins. One
side lay up against a steep cliff. Nothing indicated to the
casual passerby that the complex was inhabited. The girls had
been held in an upstairs room of the sole wing still uncollapsed;
they didn't know where their grandfather was held. The girls had
seen an assortment of handguns, but couldn't rule out heavier
weaponry.
The two women arrived within sight of the main door. Two guards
were standing outside it, one smoking, eyes alert; the other
sitting and cleaning his AK-47 rifle. Without a silencer, Kirika
couldn't fire, so Mireille darted out of hiding and shot both men.
Mireille advanced to the door while Kirika covered her. Both
were dead, Mireille noted in satisfaction; it HAD been a fairly
long shot. Still no silencer for Kirika, although one man did
have some ammunition she'd be able to use.
From the door, Mireille covered Kirika's advance. Once Kirika
was inside, Mireille started up the stairs just to the right.
This was the main hall, a large, square room of two stories,
with doors leading out in various directions and a second-
story balcony all the way around. Kirika picked a place in the
shadows and settled down to wait for their two 'apprentices'.
Aditi and Tati appeared soon enough, scampering quietly up from
the sheep-pen to where the two guards' bodies lay. Aditi
tried to pick up the AK-47 automatic rifle, but it was too heavy
for her, so she and Tati settled for the guards's smaller weapons.
Aditi picked up a Beretta M9 auto; Tati a smaller gun. Kirika,
alarmed, hissed at them to at least put the safeties on.
"You shouldn't do this," Kirika whispered, trying one last warning
once the girls were inside. "If you follow us, you'll be hurt,
maybe killed. If you go back outside and hide, you'll be safe.
PLEASE just go outside and wait for us."
Neither girl moved. Instead, both grinned, ready for action.
Kirika sighed, but couldn't think of anything else to try.
"Okay, then. We don't have silencers, so our job is to wait
here for an assault, rather than sneak around taking them out
one by one. We need to find a spot with good cover, but from
where we can still retreat if need be."
The three of them crept around the periphery of the main hall.
Kirika led, checking out each room as they came to it. The first
side room had no exit and no surprises. She was carefully
looking around inside a second room, gun poised, when a party of
five men entered the main hall through another door.
Aditi and Tati squealed, but raised their guns, laboriously
flipped off their safeties, and started squeezing the triggers.
The recoil threw off their aim badly, surprising both of them,
but neither dropped their guns and each got off a second, then
a third shot.
In the time it took Kirika to return to the door of the room, the
girls had actually managed to wound one assailant, but the other
four had closed the distance substantially. None were firing back
at the girls, Kirika noted, but as soon as their attackers caught
sight of her, all four fired. Kirika dodged, falling, but took
one bullet in her left leg and a second grazed her left upper arm.
Her own return fire dropped two more attackers before the last two
reached them. Kirika somersaulted backwards, and was just about
to shoot the last two attackers when Aditi suddenly jumped up,
right between Kirika and her target, arms spread. Kirika barely
managed not to pull the trigger.
Joxe Laxalt grinned. Perfect. With his left hand, he picked the
annoying girl up by the front of her blouse, using her as a shield
as he closed on Kirika. Once close enough, Joxe Laxalt kicked
Kirika viciously in the jaw with his steel-toed shoe, then dropped
the child on the gun-arm and held her down. The other man ripped
Tati's gun away and pinned her to his chest with one brawny arm.
Laxalt kicked the side of Kirika's head, which rebounded from
Laxalt's foot and hit the stone wall behind her with a dull thud.
"Just kill her," the second man said tiredly as Laxalt continued
to kick the unconscious Kirika, screaming about what she's done
to his men. Laxalt changed his aim, targeting the bandages over
Kirika's stomach wound.
"No!" Aditi shouted. "She's..." Aditi glanced pleadingly at Tati,
eyes wide.
"...Grandfather's chief assistant!" Tati interrupted. "She knows
as much as Grandfather does about his research!"
Laxalt stopped abruptly. "Does she now? I think you're lying,
but it's simple enough to check. We'll take the three of you
down to see him."
- - - - - - - - - -
Upstairs, Mireille heard the gunfire from below, oddly faint, but
was only halfway through sweeping this wing of the house. She'd
eliminated two sleeping men so far. She considered investigating
the gunfire, but decided she'd better stick with the plan.
She carefully continued her sweep, finally coming across a smoky
room where four men were playing cards. One window was open, on
the backside of the house. She had only two more bullets, but one
of the men had the same gun she used, the Walther P-99, hanging in
a shoulder holster on the back of his chair.
Mireille came into the room at a run, headed straight for the
shoulder holster. Her two bullets took out the two men facing
her, then she threw her gun into the face of the third. The
fourth man was her target. He was still getting up and turning
when she reached the gun. She flicked the safety off and fired
through the holster into his foot, causing him to stumble badly.
Mireille stepped past him and calmly shot the third man through
the heart, then spun and nailed the gun's owner.
Mireille retrieved her own gun and reloaded, using the dead man's
ammunition, while she considered. There was a good chance that
this was it for opponents on this floor, but Mireille had been
bitten too many times to take that for granted. She had to cover
the rest of the floor. It was another ten minutes before
Mireille returned to the stairs and started down.
- - - - - - - - - -
"Old man!"
Boris Sarkhovsky woke up as a bucket of ice-cold water was
thrown in his face. His granddaughters were there, he noted
blearily; he'd hoped they'd somehow managed to escape. And
another girl, unconscious.
Laxalt threw Kirika to the floor and kicked her in the ribs
another couple of times for good measure. "Now, you talk, old
man. Or your other daughter here does."
Other daughter? Sarkhovsky wondered what that was about. And
why were Aditi and Tati moving their mouths so strangely? Were
they trying to tell him something?
"Well, shall I wake her up and threaten to torture her nieces?"
Laxalt asked.
Assistant. They were mouthing the Russian word for assistant.
"Not their aunt," he got out between his missing teeth. "My
assistant."
Laxalt looked startled. "Okay, you've bought her a little time,
then. But not your granddaughters. I'll be plucking out their
fingernails one by one while you make up your mind. They
managed to kill one of my men." Laxalt glared at the two girls
with a murderous expression. "I will hear them both scream in
torment for that act."
- - - - - - - - - -
Mireille found three bodies in the main hall, but no Kirika, and
no girls. She searched carefully, but found only one man on the
first floor, the cook, apparently. Instead of killing him
immediately, she had to show herself and make threats, in
Spanish, to find out where Kirika and the girls had been taken.
He was a small man, not a combatant, apparently, so after he'd
shown her the hidden door down to the dungeons, Mireille advised
him to flee immediately, to get as far away as he could. Laxalt
would be dead soon, she told him, so there wouldn't be any
comeback. The cook backed away, nodding and bowing, then ran.
"I'm turning soft," Mireille mused as she descended the dark
stone staircase, gun ready. "I never would have let him live
before."
Finally Mireille reached the bottom. The smell was awful down
here, ancient bloodstains mixed with moss on the dank walls.
She started down the single hallway. Light was coming from a
room at the end. Nevertheless, she carefully checked out each
side door as she came to it. Most were locked or jammed, and
she dare not make the noise to force the latter open.
Finally she reached the door with the light. She crept up to
it in a crouch, moving silently, gun ready if anyone peered out.
The first thing she saw, at an angle, was Kirika, lying on the
floor, with blood spattering her golden tunic. Mireille froze,
hoping Kirika was still breathing.
But her task didn't change if Kirika wasn't. She continued to
inch forward, angling slowly to the opposite side of the hallway,
careful to stay in the darkness, gun ready to fire.
An old man, chained to the wall, appeared, presumably the girls'
grandfather, horribly beaten.
Next two men came into view, a large man holding the two girls,
and a second seated before them, utilizing a pair of pincers on
Aditi's left hand. Both girls were sobbing with pain and terror.
Aditi screamed as the man holding the pincers finished his task.
"Keep that up; I like it," he said to Aditi just before casually
backhanding her across the face. Tati already had several
bruises on her cheek.
Two men; was that all? Mireille continue to inch sideways until
she had seen the entire room. Good, that WAS it.
Her first shot was centered on the forehead of the large man
holding the two girls prisoner. He looked vaguely surprised,
then dropped.
Joxe Laxalt leapt to his feet much faster than Mireille had
expected, facing her with a hideous expression on his face, then
darting out of her angle of fire.
Mireille dived through the doorway in a rolling somersault,
hoping to surprise him. Two shots ricocheted off the stone
just behind her. From the floor, she sighted upside down and
got off two shots, just missing Laxalt as he moved. He started
in surprise, then fired at Mireille again, screaming profanities.
Mireille rolled desperately, then came to her feet and kept
going, firing sideways on the run. She hit Laxalt twice at
least, but he was moving himself, and firing back. Suddenly
he stopped moving. On reflex, Mireille fired two careful
bullets through his brain and throat before she noticed why.
Aditi and Tati were on the floor at his feet, their arms wrapped
about Laxalt's legs, their faces scrunched up in terror and
determination. Laxalt toppled slowly to the side, surprise and
fury warring on his face.
Mireille carefully checked both men to make sure they were dead,
then smiled at the two girls. "Can you please make sure Carrie
is okay? And you can untie your grandfather. I have to check
out the rest of this floor, but I'll be right back."
Mireille found no-one else in the dungeons. By the time she
returned, Kirika was up. All three were kneeling by the side
of the girls' grandfather.
With a sick feeling, Mireille noticed fresh blood on his chest.
He must have been hit with a stray bullet during the firefight.
"Aditi, Tati, I'm glad you're all right," a faint voice came out
of the wheezing, gasping chest.
"Grandfather! Please don't die!" Aditi and Tati were both crying
freely and blubbering.
"How is he?" Mireille asked Kirika soberly.
"He isn't going to make it," she replied in a low voice.
"Girls... don't have choice... when Good Lord calls," the old man
got out, slowly, gasping for breath. "But He sent... His
angels... to save you."
Boris Sarkhovsky's eyes turned to Mireille and Kirika. "Girls
have... no living relative," he struggled to get out. "My
friend... Catholic priest... will take them. Girls... have
address." His eyes returned to Aditi and Tati, and he smiled
in love. "Have to... go now. Beloved granddaughters, try...
be like... these angels. We'll be..." A sudden spasm
took him, "...together... heaven."
Mireille closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer, to whom
she could not say. She knelt, taking Aditi into her arms and
letting the girl cry out her grief on her shoulder, even as
Kirika did the same for Tati.
- - - - - - - - - -
They buried Boris Sarkhovshy in the ruined manor's chapel, with
a wooden cross bearing his name. Mireille found herself drafted
to say a few words of benediction, which she did in the church-
Corsican of her youth.
"Goodbye, Grandpa," Tati murmured, wiping her eyes, then turning
to follow Kirika and Mireille.
"We'll miss you," Aditi added, her own eyes still filled with
tears.
Back at the car, Mireille retrieved the first aid kit and began
bandaging wounds. Kirika's leg wound was not too serious, and
the graze on her upper arm only needed antiseptic. Both the
girls' hands needed bandages where Laxalt had removed fingernails,
and the bruises on their faces needed attention. Mireille gave
them both pain-killers and sleeping pills as well.
Finally, Mireille and Kirika stripped off their bandages from
the day before and put new ones on. Mireille was surprised,
but very relieved, to see that the wound in Kirika's stomach
was no worse, and probably better, than it had been the previous
day. There was no trace of infection.
Before leaving, Mireille asked the girls for the address of their
grandfather's friend. They'd have to take the girls wherever it
was first, assuming it was nearby or on the way, before going
back to Paris. But at least they'd finally be out of their
hair.
Tati reached into one of her pockets and produced a crumpled-up
note, which she handed to Mireille, who opened it. Mireille read
it and stared in disbelief, then read it again. No. It couldn't
be. Her mouth opened and closed twice.
Kirika peered around her shoulder. "Umm... isn't that the church
three blocks from our apartment, in Paris?"
- - - - - - - - - -
Mireille wearily opened the door to their room at the little
pensione they'd found. Inside were two beds, both somewhat
narrow. "You girls can have the nearest; Carrie and I will
take the one nearer the bathroom."
The two girls, eyes still red with tears and wincing from their
wounds, gingerly undressed and crawled into bed without another
word.
As they undressed for bed, Kirika tilted her head sideways in
thought. "Mireille?"
"Hmmm?"
"What will we do after we get back to Paris and hand over the
girls?"
Mireille laughed as she settled herself into bed, lying on her
left side, back against the wall, right arm up and welcoming.
"Yesterday, I just wanted to have a nice hot cup of tea. But now
I want to go shopping! You've never had a nice wardrobe, so we'll
go shopping for new clothes. I get to dress you up, and you have
to sit still for it. Then maybe we'll go out to dinner, someplace
nice with candles, just the two of us. How's that for our first
day back?"
Kirika smiled shyly as she settled herself into Mireille's
embrace. "That sounds like fun."
End.
- - - - - - - - - -
Notes:
This will almost certainly be continued in further fics.
I haven't settled on a series name, though at the moment I'm
leaning towards "Apres Noir".
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