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Aubagne, France
Present Day
“Come in,” Laiveaux said and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. “So, my girl, it’s been five years?”
Alexa removed her dark glasses, folded them, and placed them on the table in front of her.
Laiveaux motioned for her to sit, took two tumblers from a side table, and filled them to the brim. He pushed one towards Alexa.
She smiled a “thank you” and finished half. Laiveaux swallowed his drink in one gulp, gesturing to Alexa to do the same. She quaffed hers.
He studied her for a while. She wore a black turtleneck sweater and jeans. She sat upright in her chair, not flinching from his gaze as she used to in the past. Her face was deeply tanned and her shoulders pushed back proudly. She looked toned and lithe and dangerous. Laiveaux filled the glasses again. “So what happens next, Captain?”
Alexa sat back in her chair and gracefully folded one leg over the other. “I would like to complete the mission, General.”
“You think you’re ready?”
She smiled but said nothing. She radiated energy, her green eyes sparkling.
Laiveaux couldn’t keep his eyes off her; he was amazed at her transformation. He had sent a naive girl into the boondocks, and she had come back beautiful and strong. Like a lithe, graceful, beautiful cat. Yes, she reminded him of a jaguar.
He refilled their glasses and tore his eyes away from her. He removed a manila envelope from his desk and pushed it towards Alexa. She tossed her drink back and placed the glass on the table, then opened the envelope and scanned the contents. She looked at him questioningly.
“Your next mission,” Laiveaux said.
“Who is he?”
“His name is Sergeant Neil Allen, former marine. Dishonorably discharged.” Laiveaux leaned back in his chair. “Bruce will fill you in on his background. Let’s just say we need him and he needs us, although he doesn’t know it yet.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “The Dalerians?”
“Callahan, Perreira, same old. But they have a new member.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet. They have a contact in the States funding their operation. All of the intel we could gather is in there. You will have to piece the rest together.”
“Same stuff?” she asked.
Laiveaux sighed, taking a sip of his drink. “They are definitely involved in rhino poaching. The rest we don’t know. That is where you come in. You need to find out.”
“With Allen’s help?”
Laiveaux nodded. “He knows their background.” He stood and walked around his desk, pulling a passport from his pocket. He scribbled a number on a piece of paper, put it in the passport, and handed it to her. “My personal cell number.”
Alexa accepted it, stood and saluted the general. He smiled and held out his arms. He pecked Alexa once on each cheek and gave her a hug. “I am proud of you, my girl. I wish I could protect you, but this is your time to shine. To make the world a better place.”
She smiled at him. “I’ll miss you, General.”
Laiveaux kissed her forehead. “Stay strong. Do good.”
She nodded and turned around, opened the door, and glanced over her shoulder. She smiled at the general and waved a final good-bye.
The Dalerians were in for one hell of a surprise, Laiveaux thought as she closed the door behind her.
The sentry at Laiveaux’s door pulled up the handle from Alexa’s Rimowa rolling suitcase and handed it to her. She nodded her thanks. Everything she owned was in there. Exactly seven items of clothing, which she could combine into dozens of outfits.
It also contained an electric toothbrush, makeup bag, and seven sets of underwear, still in the packaging.
She strolled to the gate where Voelkner and Latorre were waiting with a bottle of champagne. She was going to be drunk soon if the celebrations continued for much longer. They popped the cork and each took a slug out of the bottle before handing it to her.
“Are you excited, Captain?” Latorre asked.
“I must admit, I am.” She swallowed a mouthful of the bubbly.
Voelkner grabbed her shoulder. “Anytime you need our help, you know where to find us, Captain.”
She smiled and pecked him on the cheek. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Don’t become a stranger now,” Latorre said, hugging her.
She nodded sadly then checked her watch. “I need to get going, men.” She hated these drawn-out good-byes.
They waved good-bye as she marched away, then they turned around and closed the large doors to the compound behind them.
She switched on her new cell phone and punched a number from memory. It was answered after one ring. “Hello, Dad, I’m out. When do we start?”
General Alan Laiveaux swigged the brandy in one swallow. He grimaced. He never liked the taste of the stuff, only how it made him feel afterward. He eyed the cell phone on his desk speculatively.
He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke through his nostrils. Stubbing it in the ashtray, he stood up and pulled his uniform straight then paced around his office, his hands behind his back. He picked up his cell phone and dialed a number.
“General Laiveaux. What a pleasant surprise.”
“Perreira,” Laiveaux answered curtly.
“I have been expecting your call. Can you confirm the news?”
Laiveaux straightened his back, hesitating for a second. He pursed his lips and answered in Spanish. “She’s out.”
He disconnected the call, looked at the ceiling and let out a sigh.
It has begun.
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