June 3rd, 2014 - Port of Gennevilliers, Paris, France.

What exactly did he say?” Sabine asked, storming over to the operator and grabbing the man by his vest. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

The man looked puzzled and slightly alarmed by the sudden demand, “ I uh… he got a call. It was really late, right before we were gearing up to come here. He seemed really animated all of a sudden; he took one of his guys with him.”

“Who?” Sabine insisted, “Blonde, thin, tall?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn it, that’s Nate Christansan, he’s in on it all too,” Sabine cursed, pulling out her cellphone and seeing that it still had no signal. Turning, she waved the device at Sutherland,  “Pete, I need to get through right now, it’s an emergency.”

Sutherland nodded and murmured something into his radio. After pausing for a moment, he gave Sabine a thumbs-up. Looking down at her cell phone, Sabine watched as the device’s signal returned to full coverage. Entering Claire’s number from memory, she held the phone to her ear as she paced the warehouse floor.

The phone rang three times before the line was picked up. “Claire? Claire, are you there?”

“Claire is not here right now, but I’ll happily take a message,” a male voice replied, a hint of mirth in his voice.

“Edwards, you fucking prick,” Sabine spat. “If you lay a finger on either of them, I will rip your guts out and skip rope.”

“Calm down, Knight,” Edwards replied evenly. “No need to get so melodramatic. The woman and the kid are both just fine, for now. How long that lasts depends entirely on how well you can play ball, do you hear me?”

Sabine closed her eyes for a moment and quietened her beating heart. She was no good to Claire or Amélie if she lost control. They needed her now more than ever before, and this was no time to go off half-cocked.

Sabine looked over at Sutherland, who appropriately translated the look of fear on her face and started organizing his men. “What do you want?”

“You’ve been a real problem for me, haven’t you?” Edwards tutted. “When your friend decided to break into my apartment, I knew that you were getting far too close to my little enterprise. I figured that you two would find a connection to the warehouse, and so I decided to throw Ahmad’s guys under the bus in the name of a clean getaway.”

“I hoped that I could set the Agency dogs on you, and that they might do my job for me; kill you and take out any witnesses to what I was up to.”

“You really think you can get away with this?” Sabine spat, “I’m not dead, am I?”

“Well, that does impact my plans slightly, but I’m positive that we can still help each other.”

“What do you want?”

“I figure my time with the Company is at an end, thanks to your stubborn refusal to die. If I’m going on the run, then I’ll need money. By that end, I want the drugs; bring the van with its cargo to the SNCF Rail yard near Rue Victor Hugo. If you give me the van, then I will return Ms Patterson and little Béatrice unharmed. If you try to betray me, I will kill them both, very, very slowly.”

Sabine gritted her teeth, “Fine. I need forty-five minutes, that’s not exactly close.”

“You have one hour, I’m feeling generous,” Edwards replied with a chuckle. “Do not involve the Company, or they will die. If I see anything suspicious, I get creative with a knife, do you understand me?”

“I do.”

“Goodbye, Knight.”

Sabine pressed the call end button and fought the urge to hurl her phone across the warehouse. “Did you catch all that?” She asked, looking over at Sutherland and his men.

“Every word,” Sutherland nodded. “Putting him on speaker was pretty smart.”

“I needed a confession, and I needed witnesses,” Sabine admitted. The second she had heard Edwards' voice on the line, she had switched the call to speaker. The man did not know that she had witnesses, especially not Agency witnesses present. Not only did it further cement her innocence, but the confession sealed his fate.

“I…” Sutherland frowned as a transmission came across his radio. “Ah, the bigwigs are here.”

“Oh, good, this is going to be fun to explain,” Sabine sighed.

“I got your back, and with everything you have on him, Edwards is done,” Sutherland pointed out.

“Well, there’s a little more than just that,” Sabine admitted, plucking at her shirt. “I’m done running from this.”

Sutherland wrapped an arm around Sabine and squeezed her. “You know, I kinda forget about that sometimes. Don’t worry about it, I have your back.”

The roller shutter on the far side of the warehouse clattered open as one of Sutherland’s men stepped aside to allow two black SUVs to roll directly into the building’s interior. The vehicles pulled to a stop in front of Sabine and Sutherland before a group of men disembarked wearing a mixture of polo shirts, slacks, and suits.

“Report,” A large man barked as he strode right up to Sutherland. “You got Knight?”

“Uh,” Sutherland grinned sheepishly, pointing to his left, “Right here.”

The man that Sabine recognized as Johnathan Cooper, the head of Counter Terrorism Command Europe, looked confused, “What do you mean?”

“This is Officer Knight, Sir,” Sutherland gestured. “She’s right here.”

“Wasn’t Knight supposed to be a man?” Cooper looked confused as he glanced over at the man who had just arrived beside him, “Am I getting this twisted?”

“No, you’re not, John.” The Director of Operations, Christian Rawlings, raised an eyebrow as he regarded Sabine carefully. “I do believe that the last we knew, Officer Knight was indeed a male.” Turning to Sabine, he raised an eyebrow, “Care to explain that little discrepancy?”

“Uh…” Sabine had not even begun to consider how she would explain her present circumstances to anyone in a position of power within the Agency. Truth be told, she had lost track of how to explain it to herself.

“She fell back on an old cover identity to move across Europe undetected, Sir,” Sutherland interjected. “Operation Orsino?”

Rawlings looked blank for a moment before his eyes widened, “Ah, I see… Well, that’s a… creative.”

“Sir,” Sabine interrupted. “Edwards is dirty, and he has been from the very beginning. He ordered Ahmad killed in Nice when he called in the strike, and he executed Marianne Laurent. I witnessed it all, and I have a recording.”

“That’s a serious accusation, young lady…man…lady,” Cooper stumbled with a frown. “You had better have more evidence than that to accuse a superior officer.”

“I have deeds to this property, offshore accounts in the Caymans, and a confession, sir.”

“I can confirm, Sir,” Sutherland interjected. “We had him on the phone just now. He has one of the Embassy officers, Ms Patterson, and the kid, Béatrice Laurent. He wants the heroin here in exchange for the pair of them. My guys and I overheard the entire conversation.”

“That changes things somewhat,” Rawlings rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “What about Spencer?”

Sabine felt a stab of bitter pain as she remembered her mentor’s sacrifice. “Tom Spencer was murdered by Edwards in Milan. He believed me, and he confronted him,” Sabine offered. “I showed him the recording, and he heard everything. Edwards confronted us, they argued, and he shot him, Sir.”

“Damn it, this is a fucking mess,” Rawlings sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. “Jerry’s going to lose his mind over this crap. I have no idea how we’re going to explain this clusterfuck to Senate oversight.”

“A more pressing issue,” Sutherland insisted politely. “Edwards wants the drugs in exchange for those two hostages. He gave us an hour to perform the exchange, sir.”

Rawlings looked over at the man beside him, “John?”

“This whole thing is a God damned mess,” the man shrugged, frowning at Sabine. “I’m not sure I understand the point of this cross-dressing business either.”

“I’m not crossdressing!” Sabine blurted, before she realized just what she had said, or just how insistent she had been. “I uh, mean, well, this is the real me.”

“I don’t… understand?” Rawlings asked slowly.

“What she means, sir,” Sutherland interjected, emphasising the pronoun, “Is that this is a little more complicated than just a cover, and it would be better discussed when there isn’t a child and an officer’s life on the line. Do I have permission to smoke the problem?”

Cooper glanced at Rawlings, who nodded after a moment’s hesitation,  “Ok, you’re green to go get them. We would prefer there not to be any prisoners, Mister Sutherland.”

 

 

June 4th, 2014, Paris, France.

“Are you ok?”

Sabine looked over at Peter Sutherland sitting beside her in the cab of the cargo van as they sped along the Autoroute into Paris. “Not in the slightest.”

“Are we going to talk about what you told our boss back there?”

Sabine frowned at the soldier, “What?”

“You're coming out to the CIA’s Director of Operations.”

“I didn’t really think about it, not really,” Sabine admitted, the street lighting illuminating the worry etched on her features as they sped South along the city’s inner ring road. “It kinda surprised me, if I’m honest.”

“If we can pull this off, I’m pretty sure you being a chick won’t matter so much in the grand scheme of things,” Sutherland opined. “They’ll probably just wave it off to keep this entire thing quiet.”

“This whole mess has me all over the place. I just snapped and said something; something that I hadn’t even admitted to myself yet,” Sabine sighed and ran a nervous hand through her hair. “The truth is, I have been fighting it for years, ever since Orsino. When Francesca suggested this girl business again, well, it just made sense. Ever since I’ve been back like this, I’ve been fighting a different feeling.”

“What?”

Sabine shook her head, “That I never wanted to go back to being Ryan ever again.”

“It does suit you, I mean that.”

Sabine smiled thinly, “So everyone says.”

“One step at a time,” The old soldier offered evenly. “Rescue Patterson and your kid, then have a mental breakdown, ok?”

“My kid?”

Sutherland grinned, “She’s your kid. I’ve seen the way you talk about her, everything you did, and the way you look when you talk about her. Remember that I’m a dad, I know how it feels.”

“I can’t lose her,” Sabine whimpered, “Not now. Not that we’re this close to being safe.”

“You’re not going to.”

Sabine stared out of the window and gripped the wheel tighter. “If he’s hurt her… I’m going to kill him.”

“I know,” Pete agreed. “If he’s hurt either of them, I’ll help you do it.”

“This doesn’t quite feel real, you know? After everything that happened, it all feels a little unreal.”

“Being on the inside again?”

Sabine shrugged, “Yeah.”

“You’re a good kid. You did the right thing. I’m not sure I could have done what you did.”

“You know I’m not a kid, right? I’m nearly thirty,” Sabine pointed out.

Sutherland waved his hand dismissively, “I’d have said good woman, but I wasn’t sure if you’d still take my head off.” The man chuckled. “That’s beside the point, I’m proud of you, ok? You stuck this thing out, and you’ve done the hard part. Let me and my guys help you bring it home, bring them all home.”

*                       *                          *

Sabine eased the van to a stop by an old turntable at the southern end of the rail yard. They were a little less than a mile south of Claire’s apartment in a more industrial part of the city. Sutherland and his men had separated off, leaving Sabine by herself. She knew they were close by, but she still felt terribly alone.

Stepping down from the cab, Sabine walked forward across the gravel and pulled out her cellphone. Behind her, a freight train rumbled slowly past on the main line, it’s caternary arm sparking off the overhead lines in the darkness like a trail of fireworks. Dialing Claire’s number, she waited for Edwards to answer.

“You showed up, good for you.”

“Where are you?” Sabine demanded.

“I’m nearby, and so are my guests,” Edwards answered coyly. “You did come alone as I asked, didn’t you?”

“Do you see anyone else?”

“Just you,” Edwards answered. “I could kill you right now and put all of this to bed.”

“You’re not going to do that,” Sabine pointed out. If you do, your drugs go up in smoke.”

“You took precautions, good for you,” Edwards chuckled. “Ok, look over towards the engine shed.”

Sabine turned to her left and watched a door open in the side of the large concrete engine shed a hundred feet away. Claire stepped out, her hands behind her back as Edwards followed, holding Béatrice on his hip. The three walked forward across the yard until they were thirty feet away before Edwards stopped them. At this distance, Sabine could see the gun he held to Claire’s ribs.

The rail yard was relatively dark, but the area in which they were standing was lit well enough for them to be clearly visible to one another. It was the first time that Edwards laid eyes on Sabine since their altercation in the warehouse in Nice, and his expression gave away his surprise.

“What is going on here?” the man asked curiously. “Well, well, I did not expect this.”

“Are you ok?” Sabine asked Claire, ignoring Edwards' remark. “Béa?”

“We’re ok,” Claire replied, wincing as Edwards prodded her with his gun. “We’re not hurt.”

“I thought briefly that it was Ms Patterson here that was found sneaking around my apartment like a little rat, but it wasn’t, was it?” Edwards smirked. “I knew you were a useless faggot of a man, Knight, but I never expected you to run around playing dress up.”

“Do you want the drugs, or not?” Sabine asked, waving her left hand, holding a small black device. “I can solve that problem real quick if you want to keep being a comedian.”

Edwards held out his free hand, “Don’t do anything rash. If you destroy the drugs, I will not hesitate to kill the woman.”

“Where’s Christiansan?” Sabine demanded.

“Oh, you remembered him?” Edwards grinned. “He’s close by. I’m a very cautious man.”

“I knew you were an asshole, but I never pegged you for a drug dealer,” Sabine shook her head. “It took me so long to put it all together. I had no idea why you needed Ahmad dead so badly that you would risk a drone strike, but it all made sense once I discovered the drugs. It’s all about the money, isn’t it?”

“When isn’t it?” Edwards shrugged. “Money makes the world go round. I’m sure as shit not going to retire at forty on a government salary.”

“But to betray your country and work with terrorists? Is it worth that cost?”

“One man’s terrorist is another man’s business partner,” Edwards laughed. “Ahmad and his cronies were useful idiots. He was never a true believer, he’s a jumped-up warlord… or was.”

“And his family? They had to die, too?”

“You never know how much he told Laurent,” Edwards replied dismissively. “Being tidy is being safe.”

“Are we doing this trade, or not?”

“I don’t think I feel like it,” Edwards admitted slowly, a smile spreading across his lips. “You don’t have any leverage.”

“I can blow the van sky high at the click of a button,” Sabine pointed out, waggling the detonator.

“Your mistake was not making it a dead man’s switch,” Edwards laughed. “Or should I say, a dead tranny switch?”

Raising his hand, he made a finger gun that he pointed at Sabine, his thumb falling like an imaginary hammer.

After a few moments had passed, Sabine inclined her head. “Are you expecting something to happen?”

Edwards frowned and glanced over his shoulder, “Perhaps.”

“I’m guessing you had Christiansan posted up somewhere with a rifle, right? He was meant to shoot me when you did the whole dramatic finger gun routine, yes?”

Edwards looked suddenly worried and licked his lips as he glanced around. “That was the plan, yes.”

“Now you’re questioning who’s here, because you don’t know if you can go through with killing one of the hostages before you get drilled, right?” Sabine pressed her point. “The thing is, you don’t hold the cards here anymore, Greg.”

“My, my, you really grew a pair of balls,” Edwards laughed nervously. “All it took was you cutting them off.”

“You know the SOG team you sent after me at your warehouse?” Sabine smiled. “They send their regards; they’re probably mopping up Christiansan right now. The DO didn’t want any prisoners; it makes things a little messy when it comes to Senate Intelligence hearings.”

The color drained from Edwards' face, and his jaw tightened. Sabine was worried that she might be pushing the man too far, but she stuck to her plan. “Let them go, and you can walk away from this. Take the van and run, but don’t you ever stop running. This isn’t your negotiation anymore, it’s mine.”

“I’m almost impressed,” Edwards conceded ruefully. “I did not count on you actually outmaneuvering me. I should have given you some credit… well, any credit at all.”

“You never did,” Sabine pointed out. “Let them go.”

Edwards shoved Claire forward and prodded her with his pistol, “Go.”

Claire stumbled slightly from the push but regained her footing before walking across the gap between the two groups. As she reached her side, Sabine gave her friend’s arm a comforting squeeze, “You’re good, we have company,” she murmured. “You’re not hurt?”

“Pissed off. I fucked up, I’m sorry,” Claire replied sadly.

“Don’t blame yourself.”

“As adorable as this is,” Edwards called, “I’d really like to get on with this.”

“Give me the girl,” Sabine ordered. “Then you get the van, that’s the deal.”

A freight train rumbled along the track to their left, the vibration enough to shake the ground as it lumbered towards them. The rotating yellow warning lights on the cab illuminate the ground ahead of it like a sweeping radar.

“I think,” Edwards announced, glancing towards the train. “I think you might have other priorities.”

Sabine watched in slow-motion horror as Edwards hurled Béatrice toward the train tracks. The child fell heavily, bouncing across the ballast as she landed on the rails directly in the path of the lumbering locomotive. The driver up in the cab saw the girl hit the ground, and the squeal of brakes ripped through the night air. Despite his efforts, there was no way he was going to be able to stop the steel monster in time to prevent a horrific tragedy.

Without pausing to think, Sabine set off at a dead sprint. She was thirty feet from where Béatrice lay, the train bearing down on her at fifteen miles per hour, and she covered the distance faster than she had ever run before in her life. Diving for the child, she swept Béatrice up in her arms and tumbled clear of the path of the freight train, close enough to feel the heat of its exhaust as it screeched past on sparking brakes.

Sabine rolled to her feet and put Béatrice down on the rough ballast, “Oh god, are you ok, ma cœur?”

“Béatrice sniffed and nodded, doing her best to hold back tears after the sudden shock of her fall. “You came back for me, Tante Claire said you would,” she whimpered, clinging to Sabine fiercely. The little girl made a face, “I hurt my knee.”

Sabine squeezed the child tightly to her chest and stroked her hair, “You’re safe now, I will always come back for you, always. I will never leave you alone again, I promise.”

Sabine shielded Amélie’s ears as the train finally came to a screeching halt a handful of feet away. Her heart was hammering, and she was fighting back tears herself. She had no idea what had come over her, but she was starting to feel her terror being replaced by a cold fury

Sutherland vaulted over one of the couplings between the train cars, the second it stopped moving. “Thank God, I saw… Jeez, thank God.”

“Get her and Claire to safety,” Sabine ordered as she stood up, still hugging Amélie tightly to her chest. Cupping the girl’s face, she kissed her forehead, “Chérie, this is one of Mama’s friends, Oncle Pete, ok? He’s going to look after you till I get back.”

“I don’t want to,” Amelie huffed.

“I've got to take care of something really fast, it's super important. Then I’m not going anywhere, ok?”

“Ok,” the girl replied reluctantly, throwing her arms around Sabine’s neck one last time, “I love you.”

“I love you too, mon amour,” Sabine whispered.

“I got her,” Sutherland offered, gently easing the girl out of Sabine’s arms before hugging her to his side with one huge arm. “I’ll get them both out of here. You go and finish this thing, you hear me?”

Sabine drew her pistol and checked that the weapon was loaded before nodding curtly, “I will.”

The rail yard was filled with shadows that stretched along unnatural angles as the beams of light from the tall overhead fixtures warped normal shapes into a shadowed forest of twisted demonic forms. Sabine moved slowly, her pistol raised and tucked close to her chest. She moved silently, carefully placing each foot on the uneven gravel surface.

Béatrice and Claire were safe now, and Sabine felt a significant weight removed from her shoulders. She was free of her burden; no longer blamed for the death of Tom Spencer or the chaos and blood in Nice, she was an innocent woman. The Agency had her back, and she did not need to run any longer. It all made her feel suddenly so much more powerful.

As she moved cautiously along the rows of silent rail cars, she smiled to herself. She was going to have a future after this was all over, a life of her own that she would share with Béatrice. That idea was no longer one she ran from or avoided considering out of fear of loss. It didn’t matter what the Agency said or did; they would be together, even if they had to leave to do it. Love was a feeling Sabine had almost forgotten. She had last felt it before her parents passed, and now, here, she felt it again for this child. Her child, her love, her daughter.

Edwards had murdered her mentor, and he had killed countless innocent people to cover up his crimes. He had tried to hurt her friends, and he had tried to kill her child. There was no question that he would pay the price for what he had done. It was not revenge that drove Sabine onward; revenge was too primal and mindless a motivation. What drove Sabine was justice, a rightful bloody justice exacted for the man’s transgressions. A price to be paid for the suffering and pain that he had inflicted upon others.

A piece of metal clanked against another object somewhere in the next row of rail cars, and Sabine snapped her weapon around.. Squatting low, she glanced under the nearest car and strained her eyes in the gloom. It was hard to see; the light of the overhead fixtures barely reached down here amongst the cars. It was just enough to cast confusing shapes in the darkness.

Something moved; the slightest of shapes shifted in the murky shadows, giving away a human form. Sabine froze and watched as the shape began to move again, slowly but certainly, a human form. Squatting down low, she eased herself under the boxcar and out the far side into the adjacent row. Scanning around, the space was empty.

Sabine heard the rush of air that betrayed the rapid movement of an object through the air a fraction of a second before the metal pipe struck. It gave her just enough chance to react and duck the incoming blow. Edwards slammed the pipe into the railcar just above her head, and Sabine slipped sideways out of his grasp.

Before she could bring up her weapon, Edwards swept the bar back at her, catching it across the back of her left hand. The blow wasn’t strong enough to break bone, but it was hard enough to knock the pistol from her grip.

“I should have gotten rid of you back in Milan,” the man grunted, slashing at Sabine with the bar as she jinked sideways. “Who would have believed useless fucking Ryan Knight would be the thorn that brought down the lion? It’s unbelievable.”

Sabine jabbed out with her right hand in a quick blow that grazed Edwards’ temple and followed it up with a left hook to his ribs. The move knocked him back a moment, but the man recovered quickly and swung the bar at her head. “Stay still!”

Sabine ducked the bar and elbowed Edwards in the ribs as she slipped past him and twisted back around, “You’re greedy, and you’re a traitor,” she snarled. “You’ve killed innocent people, and you tried to murder a child. What kind of monster does that?”

“She was nothing,” Edwards laughed flippantly, “Just the bastard offspring of a fucking terrorist.”

“She’s my daughter,” Sabine growled, squatting down in a fighting stance. “And you tried to kill her… twice.”

“Daughter?” Edwards laughed, blinking in surprise. “You really have lost your damn mind, you freakshow.”

“I won’t justify myself to you,” Sabine replied evenly, firing a quick Jab that Edwards blocked with his left arm. “But I will kill you.”

“You couldn’t kill me if you wanted to,” Edwards growled, slashing at Sabine with the bar. “You were a useless faggot of a man before, and you’re still a useless faggot now.  God, I know that bullshit in the Middle East fucked you up, but this is beyond insane. Do you really think that anyone believes you’re a girl? What a fucking joke.”

Sabine ignored the verbal jab and went for Edwards' ego. “It didn’t look like many women wanted you anyway; that apartment of yours was tragic. Shame you don’t even have the money anymore. All of it’s gone, your Cayman accounts, your connections; done.”

“Fucking bitch!” Edwards growled, swiping wildly with the metal bar.

Sabine ducked under the bar and jabbed out at Edwards wrist as he overextended. The jab hit the pressure point behind his thumb and caused his hand to spasm, dropping the bar. The length of steel clattered to the gravel, and Sabine pressed her attack. Driving a knee into the man’s groin, she rammed her fist up into Edwards’ solar plexus, driving the air violently from his lungs.

Doubling over, Edwards staggered backwards under the onslaught, his balance faltering as he gasped for oxygen. Sabine twisted around and fired a back kick at the man, propelling him into the boxcar behind them, sending his body ricocheting off the flat metal buffer on the end of the car.

Gasping for breath, Edwards leaned back against the buffer to catch his breath. “No matter what you do to me, I’ll always be more than you could ever hope to be,” he snarled. “A sissy bitch playing make-believe with the real men.”

Sabine staggered slightly, catching herself on the framework of the car. “I don’t want to be anything like you,” she replied quietly. “I’m done with men like you.”

Reaching out, Sabine spun the handbrake wheel on the side of the car to its stop, releasing the mechanical brake holding the wagon in place. The sorting yard was graded to allow easier switching, which meant the cars all naturally wanted to roll downhill towards the exit. Unfortunately for Gregory Edwards, he was in the way.

The buffer of the moving car slammed into Edwards’ abdomen and crushed him without even slowing its motion, the metal piston compressing against the car behind him as the car settled into place. A look of shock came over Edwards as he coughed blood and gurgled as he tried to process what had just happened.

Leaning down, Sabine scooped up her pistol from the gravel before aiming the weapon at Edwards, “Rot in hell.”

Sabine pulled the trigger, and a single gunshot rang out in the still night air. Gregory Edwards slumped forward, his body pinned by the buffers as a thin trickle of blood dripped down from the vicious hole in his forehead.

Slipping the pistol back into her waistband, Sabine leaned against the boxcar for a moment and caught her breath. Behind her, she could hear the sound of running feet on the gravel and distant sirens wailing out in the cool night air.

It was over; Edwards was dead, his operation was destroyed, and she was no longer being hunted across Europe. Amélie was safe, her name was cleared, and for the very first time, she could start to see a future ahead of her. The freedom to live, to love, and to be happy. What she did with that freedom, she still had no idea, but for the first time in years, she wanted to find out.

“Hey, Knight, you good?”

One of Sutherland’s men jogged up beside Sabine and reached out to her, “Are you… holy shit.” The man trailed off as he spotted Edwards' ruined body.

“He had a train to catch,” She offered dryly, pushing herself upright. “Sutherland?”

“With the girls back at the roundhouse,” The man offered, unable to tear his gaze away from Edwards' body. “Police Nationale are here, so are the brass, Ma’am.”

Sabine nodded weakly and started walking slowly back towards the entrance. She was exhausted, the adrenaline of the moment now quickly fading from her body. The fight behind her, the next one she had to face would be with her own bosses. What that held, she had no idea at all.

Béatrice spotted Sabine before anyone else and took off running from Sutherland and Claire the moment she saw her. Dodging around police officers and security personnel, she rushed towards her with the singular focus of a child. For Sabine, seeing the girl running to her filled her with more joy than she ever thought possible.

“Mon Lapin, God, I’m so glad to see you!” Sabine cried as she swept the girl up in her arms. Leaning forward, she gently kissed her forehead, “You’re ok?”

Amélie nodded, “Oncle Pete speaks funny.”

“His French is awful,” Sabine conceded. “But he does mean well.”

“Sabine!” Claire called out as she rushed over to her side and flung her arms around the pair, “Thank god you’re ok.. I was so… this whole thing has been just insane. God, I’m glad you’re ok!”

“It’s been something,” Sabine agreed with a sigh. “Bosses are here, aren’t they?”

Claire nodded, “They’re over by the SUVs. Last I saw, they were talking to the Paris cops. It’s all become a bit of a circus.”

“I’m sure they can clean it up,” Sutherland offered as he walked over. “We’ve had worse disappear in no time at all. Plus, they might end up being a little thankful for the help in toe tagging a bunch of jihadi types. We recovered a decent cache of weapons and explosives back at the warehouse. Those weren’t for deer hunting.”

“Ma cœur, I need to go talk to my boss, ok? He’s gonna be mad if I don’t go and see him.”

“Can I come?”

“Sure,” Sabine grinned, hoisting Amelie up onto her hip. “Let's go find him before I’m in too much trouble, huh?”

The scene at the railyard was pandemonium compared to the stillness of Sabine’s arrival. There were five or six police cars and several black SUV’s from the Embassy scattered across the yard entrance, their blue lights illuminating the area.

When Sabine caught up to Director Rawlings, he was arguing with a French Capitaine. The man seemed deeply dissatisfied to find Americans interfering on his territory, especially when it connected to the French rail network.

“Sir?”

Rawlings turned around as he heard Sabine’s voice, “Excuse me, Oh, right, yes… Officer Knight?”

“Yes, sir?”

Rawlings looked across at Béatrice, perched on Sabine’s hip, her arms around her neck. “Who is… this?”

“Béatrice Laurent, Sir.”

Amelie looked curiously back and forth between the two of them as they spoke. She had a little English, Sabine knew, but she could sense the tension between the pair. Perhaps she would enjoy teaching her to speak both languages in the future.

Rawling’s eyes widened as he understood. “Ah, I see… the motivating factor for this entire da…rn sh…mess.”

Sabine eased Béatrice to the ground and crouched down beside her, “Probably best if you give me a few minutes, ok Chérie? Stay close by, oui?”

Béatrice nodded and wandered a few feet away. Standing back up, Sabine tugged at her grubby shirt as she did her best to look professional in her ripped and bloody clothes.

“I must say, this is a highly irregular incident, Knight.” Rawlings sighed. “The Director is going to be steaming mad when he’s briefed on this clusterfuck.”

“Edwards is dead,” Sabine reported flatly. “He’s not a problem anymore, and his operation is dead along with anyone who knew anything about it. It’s a mess, but it is contained.”

“Ah,” Rawlings raised an eyebrow. “That does simplify matters, good.”

“What about her?” Sabine prompted, gesturing at Béatrice as she stood several feet away, watching them carefully while trying to look disinterested. “What happens to her?”

“As far as I recall, there were no relatives,” Rawlings replied. “Poor kid will likely get taken into care.”

“Sir… could I…?”

The Director narrowed his eyes as he regarded the anxious expression etched into Sabine’s features. “Could…” She licked her suddenly dry lips and smiled nervously. “Could she stay with me? permanently?”

“You would want that?”

Sabine nodded quickly, “Yes, more than anything, Sir. We grew pretty close, and I feel any less disruption might be… please.”

“Well, as you know, she is French,” Rawlings pointed out. “They would demand a say in the matter regardless of what the Agency determines. This is entirely irregular, as you know.”

Sabine considered her words carefully for a moment. As much as she wanted Edwards to face the loudest justice possible, she knew that was not reality. The man was dead, and the Agency did not forget traitors lightly. What mattered more was the future. “I think,” she began carefully. “That the French Government might well be rather grateful that we helped them to stop a deadly Libyan terror cell from executing an attack on their capital city. The same group that was responsible for the bombing in Nice, and who knows what other horrors. We even lost officers in defence of their freedom, sir.”

Rawlings' eyes narrowed as he considered the chain of events that Sabine had just laid out before him. It was nothing approaching the truth, but it was never going to be in their world. “That is a rather diplomatic assessment of the sequence of events, Officer Knight.”

“It can be true,” Sabine shrugged. “It gives the French credit, and it neutralizes our involvement. What happens afterwards is irrelevant.”

Rawlings nodded curtly, “That would save face for the French and smooth diplomatic waters for the State Department, too. I like it."

“If the French get more credit and feel less trampled on, perhaps they might be more willing to let me seek official adoption?

Rawlings nodded, “I will put a word in for you, but no promises. It will take the diplomats a little time to smooth this shit sandwich out first.”

“Understood,” Sabine nodded uncertainly.

“What about… all of… this,” Rawlings gestured at Sabine’s clothing.

Sabine blushed, “You remember Operation Orsino, Sir?”

Rawlings looked blank for a moment before recognition flicked across his eyes, “Ah, yes, I do indeed. Now that I think about it, I remember that job being a damn disaster. It was rather harmful to you, if I recall correctly?”

Sabine nodded, “It was, Sir. Well, the cover I used for that operation, it opened up an opportunity to move around more freely. A child and a man do not exactly blend in, especially when you have their photographs out to local law enforcement.”

Rawlings had the good grace to smirk slightly at Sabine’s observation.

“A, Friend,” Sabine explained, casually leaving Francesca’s name out of it. “She recommended the idea of posing as Béatrice’s mother; it was less noticeable, and thanks to Orsino, I had practice, Sir.”

“I must admit, you do make a convincing enough woman,” the Director offered hesitantly. “Not an awful plan under the circumstances, but not one that everyone would be able to execute.”

“No, Sir.”

Rawlings paused and frowned, “I do recall that you said something back at the warehouse, though, about it being more than a disguise.”

Sabine nodded, “Short story, yes.”

“I don’t pretend to understand any of that stuff, but it is the twenty-first century,” Rawlings admitted. “Get some rest. It’s been a long night. I’ll expect to see you, first thing in the morning, for debrief.”

“About Béatrice…?”

Rawlings waved a hand, “I suppose that she is used to being with you, so yes, she can go with you for now. I’ll talk to the frogs and see if I can encourage them to let her stay if it’s what you really want. No promises, understood?”

Sabine nodded quickly and gestured for Béatrice to come to her, “I’ll get that taken care of, sir, thank you.”

Rawlings nodded before turning away and barking out instructions to a nearby officer.

“Is everything ok?” Béatrice asked, looking up at the worried expression on Sabine’s face.

“It will be,” Sabine winked, “Come on, let’s go.”

Béatrice yawned widely, “Did he tell you off?”

“A little,” Sabine conceded.

“What did you do?”

“So very much,” Sabine smiled down at her, “So very much indeed.”

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