Chapter 14 - Unnecessary Crossover #2 [Or, In France I see Mireille's Underpants]
The 16-year old Japanese girl woke up at the same time her blonde and Corsican partner (in crime) did. In their daily ritual, Kirika Yñmura prepared breakfast while Mireille fixed the bed, did the laundry, and cleaned the house. Kirika never got the chance to tell Mireille that she looked like she was not wearing any panties underneath the long button shirt, but perhaps she has grown quite accustomed to such an everyday sight.
They had tea with milk, some bread and some leftover croissants, and grape jelly. It was a mundane breakfast. Mireille discovered that they are running out of grape jelly.
"We're almost out of grape jelly," she said.
"Do we have some other flavors?" Kirika asked.
"There is strawberry, but I think they went bad a long time ago. It's hard to keep track of these things when we're all over the world."
"I will go get some."
"Oh, no that's okay. It's my turn to do so."
"I insist. It will be a long time to repay you for taking me in. Besides, don't you have something to do?"
"You're right. In that case, you should go pick up some drinks and some popcorn."
"The usual, right?"
The two girls cleaned up their table and dress themselves in their usual clothes. For Kirika, it was shorts, a spaghetti-strap top, and a white hood jacket. For Mireille, it was a provocative scarlet sleeveless shirt and short black skirt. After they stepped out of the building, they waved goodbye and temporarily part ways. As Kirika walked off to the market with the money and a concealed Beretta M1934 in her pockets, she wondered why the hell Mireille only gets to ride the yellow scooter around Paris, France.
"I wish I had a scooter," Kirika said to herself. "A Vespa maybe."
And somewhere on a bridge in Paris, the wolf-eared Becky stomped her way up the sidewalk while Red (wearing a t-shirt that reads "I'm an Angel, and I blow my nose at you" in French), Mira, Ginger (wearing a black t-shirt that reads "France Surrenders"--in Japanese), and HLS followed behind her. She was not angry because of what Ginger and Red did to the house they stayed in Tours, which was burned to the ground after a heated discussion as to whether Sailor Jupiter and Sailor Mercury are really lesbians in a popular girls' Japanese animation Sailor Moon. And it wasn't because Ginger and Red used up all the alcohol as Molotov cocktails and started hurtling it at the French Gendarmerie for no apparent reason. Becky was still angry at the fact that Ginger had knew all the time that Darryl Güse, the woman Becky harbored an hidden hatred for, was also after the glass slipper fragments. This may have been the reason why Ginger was targeted.
"Aw, come on Sis," said Ginger. "I'll hijack a beer truck for ya."
"It's not that," said Becky.
"Okay, I'll steal the new experimental HD-camera from Panasonic for the upcoming porno movie."
Becky grinded to a halt and then spun around with a frown on her head. Red, Mira, and HLS stepped to the side so Becky can look down at Ginger.
"So how long were you gonna deceive us?" Becky demanded.
"What, you think I'm not deceiving you right now?" retorted Ginger. "I only just grasped the surface of Darryl Güse's operations around the world, being a hacker that I am. I am only letting you guys tag along because you're my protection. Besides, it's not like I'm not the only one hiding secrets around here. I mean, why do you hate Darryl so much?"
"I'd rater not talk about it..."
"See? And we don't know what the hell Red's backstory is, let alone HLS's, but we can forgive the bitch because she is a bitch."
HLS growls at Ginger.
"That's what you are," Ginger said to her. "A bitch."
"I think you are really overreacting Becky," said Mira.
"Fine then," grumbled Becky. "But from now on, could you be a little more considerate and tell us everything you know?"
"Like hell," said Ginger.
"Is this your old self, or are you really toying with us?"
"Both. Prepare yourself!"
In an action sequence reminiscent of Japanese cartoons, or as Anime fans would call it, Ginger pulled out the Fourthary out of backpack and opened it up to the index. Realizing that she was on the wrong page, she flipped to the middle section, which wouldn't have mattered because she couldn't read the damn ancient writings in the first place.
"What are you doing?" droned Becky.
"With this Fourthary, I'm going to make you guys go crazy go nuts!" Ginger boasted.
"It doesn't work, and you know it."
"Silence! I practiced it on a dysfunctional family with great success. That Tuesday Thursday didn't know what he was doing!"
"You'll pay for that Sis!"
Thus Ginger recited:
Nothing happened, except that Becky, Red, Mira, and HLS stared blankly at the thoroughly embarrassed Ginger. The only thing that happened was a loud fart of an old man passing by.
"Aw, this book is worthless!" Ginger cried out.
In one thrusting girl-throw, Ginger lobbed the Fourthary over the bridge until it silly struck the head of a sixteen year-old Japanese girl who had been carrying her groceries while walking at the river edge stone walkway. She dropped her bags and fell face forward.
"Oh, shit!" Ginger gasped. "Let's bail!"
Ginger ran like crazy over the bridge and into the inner metropolis of Paris. Red started screaming childishly and runs after Ginger. Becky and Mira shrugged their shoulders, and then started walking along with HLS after the two girls.
And what of the fate of the Japanese girl who got hit on the head? Fortunately, she recovered, but it was unlike her to get hit by a falling book. What she said when she got up was:
Today wasn't the day for Kirika to go on a shooting rampage.
As for Becky and her group, today was the day when they were supposed to scour the most popular museum, the Louvre, for it was said that the glass slipper fragment resided at the unpopular part of the museum, whichever that was.
They have read about it and looked at the pictures, but none of the girls expected the museum to friggin' huge and freakin' crowded to boot. It would take almost a whole twenty-four hours to cover the place if they divided in five. Of course, there was also the problem of supervising the "kids", not to name any names or anything (*cough*Ginger*cough*, *cough*Red*cough*). So they decided to divide in groups and left HLS outside tied to a lamppost to shag the many French poodles that passed by with her double dildo strap-on. Appropriately, Becky went with Red in order to prevent any fires breaking out, and Mira very gladly went with Ginger in order to prevent grand larceny and the pissing off of the multitudes foreign tourists and the French.
"If Ginger tries anything," Becky conversed to Mira in private, "give her a pinch in her already sensitive ass."
Mira nearly drooled and became wet by an image of Ginger's naked butt in her mind. "I will do my best," she saluted.
Then they were off. Becky and Red were the first to enter the museum through the pyramid entrance. Mira and Ginger entered in later after they shared a Cappuccino from the same glass using heart-shaped straws, to which Ginger found to be weird and gay. Mira fluttered behind Ginger, who was busily inspecting the painting and sculptures and thought of numerous ways to steal them or buy them off without spending a dime. Despite Ginger's evil thoughts, she has been in good behavior. This disappointed Mira, for she dearly wanted to pinch or feel up Ginger's butt.
Mira and Ginger made a stop at the Objets d'Art (furniture) collection where, Ginger stopped and snickered at the rare Ottoman Ottoman of Power supposedly used by Napoleon, Hitler, Pope Urban VII, and United States Senator Joseph McCarthy at different periods of time, but it was not too farcical to suggest that it fell through inter-dimensional hands, such as The Almighty Tallest of Irken[i] and Dr. Eggman Ivo Robotnik[ii]. In the secret histories of the occult, it was suggested that the Ottoman Ottoman of Power was made from the seven holy wooden toilet stools Jesus had made in his carpentry days, upholstered by the many bedsheets the great prophet Muhammad soiled in his late teenage years, crafted by a virgin carpenter with severe erectile dysfunction, and stitched by a badly burnt blind man whose arms and legs have been cut off due terrible beheading mishap in the Ottoman empire. The other objects of powers, such as the Spear of Longinus and the Hope Diamond can't even hold a fart-assisted candle to the Ottoman Ottoman of Power (say that nine times fast). It was said that those who maintain a daily ritual of resting their feet on the tenth hour of each morning will be guaranteed great power for at least a thousand years. If one should break the ritual, their invincible power will disappear, which was why the great maniacal leaders of history had fallen or died.
Ginger pulled out a 3com Palm Pilot she had just stolen from a Norwegian businessman on a holiday and jotted down a mental note to steal the Ottoman Ottoman of Power during the glass slipper fragment theft.
"Screw the Fourthary and its successive volumes!" whispered Ginger. "This Ottoman will make me rule the world!"
"But wouldn't the recovered glass slipper fragments be adequate for that?" said Mira.
"What side are you on anyway?"
"I sometimes wonder why there are so many objects purported to rule the world, such as the Mona Lisa, and the Lance of Longinus. What would happen if you collected them all?"
"Then I will have ruled the world ten times over!"
"Squee! You're so corrupt and cool Ginger!"
"Damn right, birch!"
"Did you call me bitch?"
"No I didn't."
Mira almost wished Ginger called her a bitch. It would have made her day.
Ginger turned around and noticed a young French couple arguing about something.
"French people!" Ginger said. "Time to get to work!"
"French people?" wondered Mira.
As Ginger shuffled her way to the couple, Mira was reminded of Becky's orders to pinch Ginger's butt if she tried anything. Realizing that Ginger was a United States American, hopefully not Jewish-American, Mira could only surmise trouble since Americans were implicitly socialized to be anti-French (or anti-foreign in general) and despise their perceived snootyness. Mira shuffled through the crowds with her index finger and thumb in a pincer position. She then struck Ginger's butt right before a word was sounded through her mouth.
"AW FUCK! MY BUTT!"
The section of the museum suddenly fell silent, and then started to be noisy with loud murmurs. Embarrassed, Mira scooted over to Ginger and wrapped her arms around her.
"Mira, what are you doing?" Ginger asked.
"Um, uh, I thought you were going to piss the French couple off," said Mira.
"No I wasn't. I was about to tell them the location of the restroom for his lady friend."
"Oh. Sorry about that."
"Jeez, you're such a crazy."
Being called that was a low blow to Mira. Distraught, she released her oblivious beloved and took two steps back.
So Ginger, who was surprisingly fluent in French, told the French lady where the bathroom was. She and her catch thanked her, and then the woman ran off to bathroom, which was right around the corner.
The hectic experience made Mira a little stressed. So she took two steps towards Ginger and asked her where the bathroom was.
"Just turn left and it should be down the hall," replied Ginger.
"Thanks," said Mira.
"I have to warn you though--there is a really long-ass line, probably a twenty minute wait."
"Lucky for me, I already went by pissing in one of the vases by the main entrance. Woo it stunk!"
Mira dashed past the corner and beheld a long line of women dancing and holding their hands between their legs in an effort to hold their estro-urine in their bladders. At the same time, rows of male tourists, mostly Japanese and Singaporeans, took pictures and recorded videos of the women in line.
"Aw, fuck," cursed Mira.
At the same time, Mira heard people of all languages uttering Ginger's patented "Aw fuck, my butt" in their usual accents. For some, particularly the Germans, it has become a catchy phrase that soon evolved into a catchy tune to which David Hasselhoff sung later this year.
Meanwhile at the Greek collections located at the ground floor, Red made obscene comments concerning the nudity in surprisingly all of the languages spoken by the people present.
"I don't what the hell you said Red-chan," said Becky, "but we have to go do our thing."
Red smiled cutely and waved goodbye to her multicultural fans. With the crowds busy looking at the museum pieces, Becky and Red sneaked off to the south wing hallways where most of the paintings and other artifacts were being serviced or cleaned, or at least they should be since there was no one around. With their powers of sneaking, Red and Becky slid slowly alongside the drying racks while avoiding the cameras. They could have gotten Ginger disable the security system, but today's mission was strictly a scouting excursion of the glass slipper fragment.
"Are you saying my case is not important?" screamed an English-fluent Japanese Interpol inspector.
Becky and Red suddenly froze.
"I am not suggesting that Inspector Zenigata," said the museum curator Martine Curie. "Right now, we have received world that the infamous Carmen Sandiego will be making an appearance."
"Carmen Sandiego?" huffed Zenigata. "Hmph. She's a lot of flare, but she cannot hold a candle to Lupin, who is said to be after the Ottoman Ottoman of Power may I so remind you. Unlike her, he does not need a world criminal organization to literally lift the Louvre off the ground."
"Do not worry sir. We will have our best men on the job to protect this museum and the rarer artifacts down below."
"I'm not so sure about that. But I'm going to stick around tonight to make sure you guys don't screw up."
"And to capture Lupin of course. Do as you wish inspector. Any additional help is welcomed."
"Thank you Madame Curie--I mean, Monsieur Curie."
Becky and Red slid back to the entrance of the service room and back into the hallway. Then they stately paced back to the sculpture of the headless and armless Nike.
"That man has hairy hands," said Red.
"I know Red-chan," said Becky. "Crap. I can't believe Zenigata's here. This is sure to make things difficult and interesting. I guess we have to call off the search. I wonder where the others are at now?"
To answer her question, Mira was waiting painfully in the long line to the women's restroom. With a wicked smile, Ginger tortures the poor women by repeatedly pouring lemonade from one cup to another.
"Um, Ginger dear," said Mira. "I think the women don't like it when you do that."
"The men do," smiled Ginger. "Especially the Japanese dudes."
Minutes later into the torture, Mira finally gets her chance to go. Right as the museum line manager was about to wave her hand for Mira to go, Becky and Red charge into view panting.
"We gotta go!" Becky cried.
"You have to get in line," said the line manager.
"I ain't talking to you! Mira!"
"It will only take a while," said Mira.
Becky grabbed Mira and dashed off with Red towards the entrance in the glass pyramid. Realizing that they were gone, Ginger purposely spills the glasses of lemonade onto the Japanese tourists, bumped into them, discreetly stolen their digital cameras and caught up with her comrades in front of the pyramid entrance. A crowd had already gathered around HLS. Thinking it was a show, they had tossed bills and coins, to which Ginger dove in to scoop up, claiming that it was her dog. As she became a showbarker, Mira held her crotch while looking around.
"So what's the problem?" asked Mira.
"There it is!" Becky cried.
A beer and wine vendor began to pull in with the last bottle of whiskey for sale. Becky charged in and pushed the Swiss customer to the ground and puts down in a lot of Euros for the whiskey. The vendor happily accepted the bills and gave the bottle to Becky, who immediately drowned it down her throat.
"I thought we were in danger!" gasped Mira.
"Ginger ale contains 10% sperm," said Red.
"I have to urinate!"
With the police arriving to quell unauthorized vendors, Becky and her group are forced out. At the same time, Red made an observation that the man who sold Becky the whiskey had hairy hands, and looks half-Japanese and half-French.
As they walked down the busy tourist streets of Paris, Mira desperately needed to go, so she urinated into the empty whiskey bottle inside an alleway. Minutes later when Red became thirsty, Ginger knowingly gave her the same urine-filled whiskey bottle. Red drank it all down without complaint.
"Grandma, your whiskey tastes like Ginger Ale," said Red.
Becky stopped and then glared at Ginger.
"Ginger Ale, huh?" Becky growled.
Becky pushed Ginger into an alleyway unsheathed her sword destined for Ginger's neck. Immediately, Ginger wetted her pants with urine. Satisfied, Becky sheathed her sword and resumed walking down the street.
"Damn you Sis!" Ginger cursed. "One of these days!"
"Can I clean your pants with my tongue Ginger?" asked Mira.
Embarrassed, Ginger walked between Mira and Red hoping that no one will notice. Of course, they do notice, but they decide not to look for fear they might be branded as an urophiliac or at the very least having a fetish for wet crotches.
They took a bus to residential urban area and walk down the cobblestone streets back into time--sort of. The buildings are old but there were modern amenities such as French Autos going down the narrow pathways, scooters, and Sony Discmans. Their destination was their temporary residence vacated courtesy of the Soldats.
When they entered the flat, they noticed a small yellow scooter in the hallway next to mailboxes. Ginger quietly stole the scooter as they made their way to the apartment past the stairway.
Ginger became floored by the interior of the apartment because it was so small. There was only a main great room with a wooden floor, a couch, a giant circular rug, and a small desk. Besides that there was a kitchen, closets, a single bathroom, a windowed nook, and a single bed inlet. To take ownership of the bed, Ginger leapt onto it with the scooter she had just stolen.
"I call the bed!" she cried.
"Me too!" Mira cried.
"The bed is mine foo!"
"Oh please Ginger? It's big enough to accommodate the two of us."
"No! I need to accommodate the scooter, my laptop computers, and other stuff."
Becky walked over and lifts Ginger off the bed by the shirt collar like a puppy.
"If you can beat me, you can get the bed," grinned Becky.
"Er, I guess I could share it with you guys," smiled Ginger.
"I'm going to make some tea!" announced Red.
Becky, Ginger, Mira, and HLS looked at each other just as Red trotted to the kitchen.
"Say," said Ginger, "does Redhead know how to make tea yet?"
Everyone else shook their head a resounding no.
"Hit the deck!"
Almost immediately two gunshots were heard, and the oven exploded in a fiery blaze. As Red stepped backward in a daze, the rest of the girls, including their female dog, attempted to put the fire with the rug, the couch, the bed, the blankets, and drapes. They were successful, but the kitchen, including the microwave and refrigerator were rendered inoperable.
"Grandma, I'm hungry," said Red.
With implicit approval of her peers, Ginger walked up to Red and shouts, "GINGER HEADBUTT!" as she headbutts Red to the ground. It might have hurt this time.
The explosion startled both Mireille and Kirika during their mutual non-sexual simultaneous bathtime. The quickly dried up and get into their house clothes. For Kirika, it was a pink sweater and shots, and for Mireille it was just white button shirt with rolled up sleeves and maybe panties.
"Do you think we have been found out?" asked Mireille.
Kirika replied with the usual grunt, which was starting to annoy the hell out of Mireille. Regardless, she understood what her underage Japanese partner meant, so they make note of where their guns were at.
Suddenly, there was a knock. The young women nod at each other, and then quietly perform a quick game of rock, paper, scissors (or as the Japanese call it, Janken). Mireille loses like she always do, and she screamed out, "Aw, crap!" in her mind not because of the danger presented, but because Kirika was just too damn good.
Thus, she was destined to check the door. As Kirika stands by the rarely used billiard table, where a pistol was hidden underneath, Mireille slowly crept to the door. As she does so, the ruckus of young girls and a dog in heat grew louder. Is this a trap by the Soldats just to throw us off? thought Mireille.
She slowly swung open the door and sees two young women, two teenage girls, and a black panting Doberman looking in. At the head of the group was a young and cosmopolitan Pakistani woman.
"Sorry to disturb you," smiled Mira, "but could you allow us to use your phone?"
Sensing some friendliness with the women, Mireille opened the door all the way, but her partner was still on guard stoically. Then she noticed her scooter being held by a bespectacled tomboyish brat, whose eyes widened at the sight of the Somy[iii] Computer on the billiard table.
"Oh my Goddess!" Ginger cried. "This place is wired!"
Ginger rolled the scooter into the room and dashes off to do her usual hacking and stuff. As Mireille caught up her scooter, Becky and Red marched in to the raid the refrigerator.
"Forget the phone!" Ginger yelled. "I can get our apartment repaired and have them deliver our equipment in a jiffy!"
"Please excuse my companions," bowed Mira. "We had a little accident at our place downstairs."
"Er, okay," said Mireille. "Help yourselves."
"Damn, this connection is f-f-fast!" Ginger hissed. "You got DSL installed in here?"
"I do not mean to be direct," said Kirika, "but we had a rash of strange visitors lately."
"Is that so?" said Becky as she drinks down the canned beer.
"Are you from the Soldats?"
"Fuck no!" cried Ginger. "We're the True Noir!"
Mireille and Kirika were not amused. They looked and saw that there is a problem with the group's configuration.
"But there's four of you," said Mireille.
"Oh yeah!" said Ginger. "It's the True Noir Times Two! Plus HLS."
"Don't listen to her," said Becky. "We're just a bunch of girls passing through in Paris."
"You must be Rebecca Wolfe I presume," said Mireille. "I have heard stories about you."
"I've heard stories about you Miss Bouquet."
"It's great to finally meet you."
Becky noticed something odd about Mireille, and Mireille notices that Becky was staring strangely at her. Becky approached the blonde Corsican woman and suddenly lifted up her white shirt. To her disappointment, she was wearing blue panties, and Kirika blushed uncontrollably at such a wonderful sight.
"I usually go around the house without panties," said Becky.
"Is that so?' said Mireille.
"You should try it sometime."
At that moment, Kirika fantasized about Mireille walking around with no panties. She does know why this was happening to her.
"Whoa, I can't believe you kept the video we sent you," said Ginger.
"Er, well," stuttered Mireille, "despite being somewhat, um, interesting, we are still trying to figure out the identity of the owner of the tit Chloe is suckling from."
Becky and the others closed their mouths as they tried to resist laughing.
"Good luck then," chortled Ginger.
"I blame your poor camera skills," said Becky.
"I say it adds to the mystery."
Ginger looked down and sees two A4-size photocopies of some old book.
"What is this?" she asked.
"It's the only link to the truth of the Soldats," said Kirika.
"You don't have the original book?"
"No. Each copy is different, and each one brings us one step closer."
"I see." A devious plan instantly concocted in Ginger's mind. "You don't mind if I borrow them?"
"Not at all," replied Mireille.
Ginger then placed the two photocopies into her laptop computer bag.
"I'm done here!" she announced. "I'm going to the copy--er, CafÇ store!"
"I'll come too!" Red announced.
"We'll take the scooter!"
"You can't!" Mireille screamed.
"Why not?" asked Kirika.
"You see, um, the scooter, er, needs to be repaired."
"It was running fine this morning."
"You may think so, but on the way home I realized that the catalyst converter needs to be replaced."
"Then we'll wait until you get back."
"Actually I have some errands to run--like right now. You know, all that stuff trying to find out who or what Soldats is and the source of those copies. So...bye!"
With the scooter in hand, Mireille ran down the stairs, out of the door, and rode off. It was a sight to see a panicked young blonde woman riding down the streets of Paris no pants.
There is just no way I can let them borrow my scooter! thought Mireille. I'm not trying to be greedy or anything. After all I bought with my own money, and it was the first vehicle I used after I moved to Paris. It has a lot of sentimental value since uncle and I used to ride in tandem. Besides, none of those girls have a license!
Red, Ginger, and Kirika stood by the doorway in a daze on what just happened.
"She's lying," said Ginger.
"She forgot her pants," said Red.
"I wanna ride the scooter," said Kirika.
"Arf!" said HLS.
Hungry and wanting to drink some French coffee, the three girls and the dog head off to the cafÇ--on foot, while Becky and Mira cleaned up their apartment downstairs. The cafÇ Ginger picked happens to be next to a copy shop, so she excused herself and went inside with her laptop bag slung over her shoulder.
HLS remained still, while Kirika and Red drank away. As they did so, they can see it in each other's eyes that they are very skilled teenagers that can kill a person with a toothpick or a chewed bubblegum, and if possible, they could probably make a bomb out of those items like some guy in an American (U.S.) television show[iv].
"Hold are you Kirika?" asked Red.
Kirika was shocked to see that a girl with a personality of child could look so young. The red hair and red riding hood seriously reminded the Japanese teen of another girl who dropped by her flat not too long ago.
Eventually, Ginger came back from the coffee shop with two bags of containing two reams of shrink-wrapped A4 sized paper. She sat down between Kirika and Red and immediately orders a cappuccino and a sandwich.
"What did you copy?" Kirika asked.
"I did not copy; I printed," replied Ginger. "My novel."
Kirika knew she was lying, but she allowed that to slide.
"So I heard you guys are called Noir even though you are not the True Noir," Ginger started. "So if I got a partner and called ourselves Noir..."
"...you'd get shot," replied Kirika.
"Way to put a damper on my bid for world domination. But we wouldn't get shot because I got the best team working for me. You see, lolicunt here can kill a man with a condom."
"He looked funny when he turned blue and bled from his anus," Red said.
"I can kill a man with a piece of paper," said Kirika.
"Oh!" gasped Ginger. "So you're tryin' to one-up us, eh? You think you can kill a person with any everyday item you see here."
"I can if the opportunity is presented."
Ginger searched around of an item, no matter how insignificant, that Kirika could not use to kill someone. Then their order of sandwiches sand special drinks came into their table. Ginger gripped her straw with her two fingers.
"How would you kill a man using this straw?" Ginger asked.
"Poke out his eye and apply pressure to three points of the heart, and then end at the main aorta," replied Kirika.
Ginger turned to Red. "Can she do that?"
"Yep," replied Red.
"Okay then. How would you kill a guy using this Euro coin?"
"Run it along the wall or a hard surface," said Kirika. "Once sharpened, slit his throat or cut his aorta."
"What if there isn't a hard surface to sharpen the coin?"
"Grip the coin between the knuckles and use it to strike at the center of the chest. They will go down easily."
"Damnit. There's got to be something that you can't use."
Ginger looked around and looked. Finally, she picked up the wrinkled paper wrapper used for straws and grinned insidiously.
"Can you kill a guy with this?" Ginger asked.
Kirika thought and gulped. She has, on occasion, killed people with a blade of grass, but the wrapper from a straw? She got some quick thinking to do.
"Um, you can use it as a means to kill a person," she replied. "You know, like infecting him or choking him..."
"In other words, you can't kill someone with this," said Ginger.
"I need to put in position to use the wrapper effectively."
Ginger suddenly grabbed the plastic fork and lunged it towards Kirika's throat.
"Now die!" she shouted.
"That's not going to work," said Kirika. "You're not a fighter."
Ginger sat back down. "Okay, you got me there. It looks you have to do the job Red."
"Ginger and I stuck Purple's fork in the anus of the village whore," Red said.
"Did you listen to what I said?"
"And she liked it!"
"Well, that was pretty cool of her to scream like that."
"Fork," muttered Kirika.
After they finished their dinner, the girls bought sandwiches and snacks for their older partners back at the flat, and then headed home.
By then, Mireille had already arrived, but the downstairs flat was still a charred mess, and Ginger wanted be on the Internet for a little longer. So by a unanimous vote, all of the girls of Becky (or Ginger depending on who you ask) decided to bunk in the upstairs flat. Mireille was a little uneasy about this, but eventually she did not mind their bright presence. Just as long as no one used her scooter--and that goes double for her partner.
On that night while having wine on the billiards table, to which Ginger and Red played pool to the others' annoyance, Becky revealed to Mireille and Kirika about their plan to infiltrate the Louvre museum and retrieve a special item in their secure storage--the place where they really keep the valuable stuff from public eyes. As it turns out, the stuff they displayed to the public were highly convincing fakes painted by the best imitators, all of whom are employed by all the art galleries and museums around the world in utter secrecy. In fact, there was practically an underground network of skillful imitators who were highly paid and lived seemingly normal lives in the entire globe.
"That Martine Curie hired Zenigata and put up a high security team in anticipation of the capture of Carmen Sandiego," said Becky.
"And it appears Lupin and his gang might make an appearance," added Mira.
"It's like a thieves' convention!"
"So the greatest thieves of the world are after the Ottoman Ottoman of Power," said Mireille.
"I am," said Ginger.
"You don't count."
"Pfft. Here's an eight-ball for you!"
Ginger struck the black ball with the tip of her cue stick, and the ball flew to Becky, who caught it and threw it back to Ginger's head. Ginger collapsed to the floor clutching her head and crying. In response, Mire rushed over to offer to kiss her wound, but Ginger accidentally slapped over and ran to bathroom to cry some more.
"Anyway," continued Becky. "It's going to be difficult because of the people involved. We'd like to wait until it clears over, but right now we have to retrieve the glass slipper fragments before Güse's bitches get them. By the way, we don't really need your help. I mean, you two got Soldats to deal with."
"So who is this Güse character?" asked Kirika.
Becky frowned. "Güse is the one who murdered my family."
They all fell silent, and Ginger poked her head from the bathroom. Suddenly, Becky smiles again and takes a swig of wine straight from the bottle.
"But I'm over that right now!" cried Becky. "As it turns out, my family sucked anyway!"
"So no one else knows?" asked Mireille.
"I hear her organization is bigger than the Soldats," said Mira.
"I heard that she is a lesbian," added Ginger.
"Tribade, Ginger," Red said. "Tribade."
"God damn, whatever jail-bait."
Suddenly, Mireille got up. She motioned to Kirika to follow her into the bathroom. Ginger stepped out as the two partners closed the door. Ginger pressed her head and listened.
Seconds later, Mireille and Kirika emerged from the bathroom.
"Did you two make out?" Ginger asked.
"What are you implying?" Mireille asked. "Anyway, we've decided to help you out, and you can't change our minds."
"Hot diggity! I've got more tribade bitches under my wing?"
"Huh?" grunted Kirika.
Mireille petted the innocent Kirika's soft hair on the head. "Don't listen to her, dear," she said.
Becky folded her arms and smiled. "I guess I can see the 'Blonde Bouquet' and her partner in action," she said. "In that case we'll have to revise the plan slightly..."
As rumors spread, thus nears dread. It was said in the criminal underworld that Lupin would strike thirty minutes before midnight. Yet, there was also word that Carmen Sandiego will be making an appearance around the same time. No one can know for sure if that were the events that were to take place, and perhaps the rumors themselves were but a psychological tactic to work up Zenigata and his men.
Regardless, Becky combined her efforts with supposed Noir, which consisted of Mireille and Kirika, and thus divided the teams accordingly. Team Noir would post themselves on the rooftops, while Team Wolfe snuck in through the sewer line from the river. HLS became the last resort as she pretended to be wandering dog prowling the front entrance of the museum.
It was an easy entrance for all of them. Mireille and Kirika easily karate-chopped their path to the roof. They knocked out two guards, stole their clothes, and pretend to be guarding. Becky and her group took off their scuba gear that was dirtied by the smelly water of the Seine River. Ginger did not like the ordeal at all, and threw up on the guard her compatriots took out and laughed quietly.
"Stop foolin' around Gingerbrat," whispered Becky. "And hack into the security system."
With waterproof bag slung over her shoulder, Ginger walked on the narrow stone walkway of the stone catacombs and approached the access door. She skillfully opens up the smartcard reader panel, inserted some probes from her 3Com Palm Pilot and broke through the security.
The cage-like door unlocked. Becky opened it and with sword in hand she led the girls up the stairs and into an entirely different wing of the museum that was not publicly mentioned anywhere on their website. It was two floors down below the underground pyramid entrance, and the walls, ceiling, and floor are utterly clean and high tech.
Red had already disabled the camera in front of the stairs with her bullet, and now the four has to quickly run to the rare artifacts holding chamber before they were ruthlessly ambushed. The girls kicked, sliced, and shot their way past the armed and heavily armored guards who wore near-impenetrable gas masks. They looked scary in their dark uniformed, but that did scare the girls one bit--well, except maybe for Ginger who cowered behind her comrades at each fight.
Finally they made it to giant entrance to the rare artifacts chamber. While Becky, Mira, and Red kept the guards busy, Ginger hacked into the door system using her IBM 660 laptop. After couple of minutes, the giant door slides open through the middle, but only enough for the girls to get through. Once they were in, Ginger ordered the doors closed again.
They were now in a dark chamber that suddenly illuminated upon their presence. The chamber was huge! All over there were art pieces and sculptures encased state-of-the art anti-aging glass cages that spew out an inert vacuum gas. To their discovery, there were also completed pieces of art such as Venus De Milo, who was groping her own breast with her right arm, and the statue of Nike, which turned out to be unfathomably gaudy. The girl with pearl earring was actually painted bald, the self-portrait of Van Gough had multiple earrings on one ear and a Mohawk, and Mona Lisa was actually topless and had sagging boobs. A lot famous art was more risquÇ, heretical, and/or just plain silly. They were kept hidden by many secret organizations such as the Freemasons, the Rosencrucians, Soldats, the Iluminati, and the short-lived Stonecutters[v].
Ginger gingerly trotted over to the nearest computer workstation and discovered that the missing pieces were recovered, but never shown just they can gallery museum cartels can prolong the mystique of incompleteness for profit. She also discovered that the real statue of Michelangelo's David had a much bigger penis, but was sized down due to complaints of the less-endowed church leaders.
"Holy shit!" Ginger cried. "They kept a lot of crap from us! Sis, we really gotta lift this stuff off them and ransom it back to them!"
"We don't have the time!" Becky snapped. "Did you find where the glass slipper fragment is?"
"It's in the back."
Becky marched towards with Red skipping behind her and Ginger greedily leering and drooling at the sight of rare and never before-seen art. Finally they reached the wall of artifact fragments, which were box cells filled with rare pieces that were so fragmented that they cannot stand on its own. They zero in on cell M-05 where the glass slipper fragment lie. It was high up, so Becky gave Mira a boost.
Meanwhile, Ginger spotted the real Ottoman Ottoman of Power inside of its cage and greedily slid over with the others were not looking. She hacked into the security system, disabled it, and opened one of the panels.
"I'm gonna rule the world!" Ginger smiled.
Right when she touched it, the ottoman fell into pieces. Becky and Red turned their heads towards her and stared with narrowed eyes.
"I didn't do it," said Ginger.
"Becky," Mira said as she fingered the glass fragment. "This fragment is fake."
"We've been had," said Becky.
"Right you are!" cried a familiar voice.
Bursting through the cabinets, the larger art pieces, and the hidden chambers in the ceiling were numerous armored French National Police officers armed with FA-MAS assault rifles and telescoping batons. Zenigata leapt out from the collapsing statue David, although the waist containing the huge stone penis remained on him unknowingly. The thick eyebrows, the long sideburns, the hairy palms, the fedora hat, and the brown trench coat was what defined this infamous Interpol inspector as he marched towards the girls spinning his shiny handcuffs about his fingers.
Becky and Red stood defensively while Mira and Ginger hid behind their backs--Ginger especially as she visibly and audibly shook her knees and clattered in teeth.
"I've got you where I want you Goemon, Jigen, Fujiko, and especially you Lupin!" smiled Zenigata.
"Pardon me?" asked Becky.
"I'd knew you'd be coming down here for the Ottoman Ottoman of Power! That is why we moved all of the valuables to the upper levels!"
"So all these are fakes of the real ones?" Mira asked.
"Excuse me Mister Hairy-hands Inspector sir," Red started, "but we're not Gomon, Janken, Fujick, and Luppins."
"You can't trick me with your convincing, albeit provocative, disguises!" Zenigata cried. "Now arrest them!"
Becky, Red, and Mira dropped their weapons and raised their hands up.
"Nothing we can do now but accept defeat," said Becky.
"What?" Ginger cried as she clutched her laptop tightly. "Aren't you supposed to kick their assess when you're cornered?"
"Zenigata may be our adversary, but he's really a nice guy. I don't want to spill any bloodshed on his part."
"Damnit! You are one useless fat-ass Sis!"
And that was perhaps the only time Becky did not spank Ginger on the spot.
The girls were handcuffed and lead to the giant double-door entrance with a happy Zenigata, who seemed to be taking an interest at Becky's figure.
"I have to say Lupin," he smiled, "that's some highly realistic boobs you have on you."
"Um, I'm not Lupin," said Becky. "I could be Goemon as far as I care."
"Save it for the judge!"
Unfortunately, no one can get out. Zenigata marched up to the bespectacled French officer who was trying to get the door open with his fellow comrades.
"What's the hold up?" Zenigata demanded.
"The passcode is not working Inspector," said the officer.
Suddenly, the Inspector's cellular phone vibrated and rang. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and answered it. Martine Curie was the caller.
"Mister Curie," said Zenigata. "We seem to be have some technical difficulty with the door."
"Of course," replied Curie. "I have to congratulate you on capturing the thieves, even if they are not Lupin's and the man himself."
"Whatever. Now can you get me out?"
"I'm afraid I cannot do that. You see, I have been planning this for years since I became the museum director. With you and the police dogs trapped there, there is no stopping me from stealing the entire Louvre from the ground. For you see, I am now an agent of the criminal organization known as V.I.L.E."
"V.I.L.E.?" gasped Mira.
"If you attempt to force open the door, it will release radioactive gaseous agent that won't kill you on the onset, but will eventually bring about pain from cancers years to come."
"How could you?" cried Zenigata. "V.I.L.E. is not known for ruthless murders!"
"I am aware of that, but I intend to make it the most feared organization that even Soldats will bow down to! That Carmen Sandiego is too idealistic for the criminal underworld."
"Martine Curie! When I finally get out of here, I will not only arrest, but I will kick your ass to kingdom come!"
"Idle threats, Monsieur Zenigata, idle threats. But, I have to meet up with my new and then former employer now. C'est la vie."
The phone hung up. Furious, Zenigata threw down his cellular phone onto the polished white floor.
"Damnit!" he cursed. He soon regained composure. "Well, the good news is that I captured Lupin."
"For last fucking time, pops, we're not Lupin's gang!" Ginger cursed.
"But we're still trapped here Inspector!" said the bespectacled officer.
"And most likely the air ducts are booby trapped as well," said Mira. "He'll probably make a clean get away once we disarmed them one by one."
"If you let us go," started Becky, "we can help you capture Curie and stop V.I.L.E. in a jiffy."
"Like I'll ever fall for your tricks Lupin!" Zenigata said.
"Okay. I'd hate to be the Inspector who allowed a crazed criminal get away with all of the contraband art pieces. You'll not only just be the laughing stock of Interpol, you'll earn the wrath of Soldats, if they do exist."
Zenigata turned away and sat on one of the rolling chairs ignoring the girls' faces. As the officers attempted to crack the security code on the reinforced doors, Zenigata's mind wandered off into a dilemma of his duty and his aiding the escape of his captors. What would be more embarrassing? Allowing Curie to get away all of the precious art, or letting respectable thieves go scot-free? Yet, the thought of mistaking girls for Lupin did not once cross his mind. Still, he has to do something.
"All right," he said. "I have decided. I'll let you four go on one condition--that stop Curie and V.I.L.E. and leave this city empty-handed. You got that?"
"Of course," smiled Becky.
"Yes sir," saluted an officer.
They French officers removed the handcuffs from the girls, and Ginger snatched back her laptop computer and stuck out her tongue as an insult.
"I think it is high time we take this off," said Becky.
"I agree," said Red.
All of a sudden, Becky and Red removed their faces and hair--or rather, Mireille and Kirika removed their disguises of those two females. Ginger's jaw dropped in just plain shock.
"What the fuck?" cried Ginger. "When did this happen? Mira?"
"Uh, we sort of left you in the dark about this," said Mira. "Sorry Ginger, but that was part of the plan."
"I don't know how Lupin does this on a weekly basis," said Mireille as she wipes the sweat from her forehead.
"That still won't work on me!" cried Zenigata. "I bet that's another disguise on your head, Lupin!"
"Will you cut that out?" Mireille snapped. "No sane person would wear two latex masks over their heads."
"I'm sure Becky and Red have found out about Curie's plan," said Mira.
"So Sis and Red left us here to die?" Ginger cried.
"She hasn't," said Mireille. "And she's not the kind that would do such a thing. Anyway, would you kind gentlemen give us a boost to the ceiling?"
"Sure," replied the officers in unison.
So the stacked cabinets and boxes were held steady by the eager male French National Police officers, and Mireille, Kirika, Ginger, and Mira climbed up to the ceiling, even though none of them wore skirts much to the disappointment to those down below them. After pulling out the grates of the air duct, Mira and Ginger quickly disabled the sensors and triggers of the radioactive gas release. Then Mireille and Kirika suited up, armed themselves with their usual pistols, and slung grappling supplies and other tools for the climb out.
"Becky will definitely need this sword," said Mireille.
"How come we're not coming along?" Ginger asked.
"Because you need to help Mira disable the lock at the main entrance for their sake."
"Fuck the police!"
Mireille smiled. "Ah, then shall I tell Becky that you called her a 'fat ass'?"
"But it was you I yelled fat-ass to!"
"She'll still spank you regardless."
"Good luck you two," said the quiet Kirika.
"You too," said Mira. "We'll meet you guys soon enough."
The two assassins climbed up through the air ducts and disappeared when they turned a corner. Mira and Ginger leapt down to the ground and ran to the main door where they immediately set to work on disabling the trap Curie set for them.
"It looks that Curie bastard placed at least sixteen canisters all over this chamber," said Ginger as she looked at the diagram on her laptop.
"We already disabled one," said Mira. "The rest should be a piece of cake for me."
"But I can't help but wonder that you seem to know more about what's going on in the criminal world that you let on."
Mira leapt up and ran off to the corner to pull out the wall panel.
"No time to talk!" Mira smiled nervously. "We have to get out of here, remember?"
Despite the violence underground, no person has been killed yet, though they were seriously wounded. On the ground level, the hired skilled guards were put to sleep via tranquilizer darts shot by the gimp-like V.I.L.E. agents clad in purple, black, and night vision goggles.
Meanwhile, Martine Curie and two of his closest V.I.L.E. agents marched up the stairs and into the roof where the sleeping guards lie at the northeastern corner of the museum. He was selected by Carmen Sandiego for this operation due to his connections and his expertise in chemicals. This allowed him to not only be hired as a museum director but also because he has the ability to preserve great works of art for millennia to come. His skills will come in handy when transporting the artwork and the entire museum at high speeds.
With almost everyone gassed all around the museum, seven large lifting helicopters that were designed to carry heavy loads descended from the clouds with the V.I.L.E. logo on the side. After positioning themselves at the four corners and the middle of the museum landmark, they fired from their underside three tethered rockets that opened into drills. The rockets drilled into the ground and latched onto the hard foundation. As they hovered, a smaller helicopter descended containing the mastermind of this operation. It landed right before Curie. The helicopter's hatch opened and deployed its stairs. Escorted by two V.I.L.E. agents in suits and dark sunglasses, out comes the red-coated and the beautiful brunette Carmen Sandiego topped with the wide-brimmed red fedora hat. The roaring winds created by the helicopter blades blew her cape-like trench coat from underneath her keens and exposed her red high-heeled shoes and her smooth legs. It almost looked it she was naked underneath the coat.
She smiled. Her red lipstick on her lips was as luscious as ever. He smiled in response. The power was within his sight, and all he needs to do is knock her down the ladder. Curie was a man after fame and fortune ever since he was born. He was a descendant of the famous Curies who discovered radioactivity, he never found satisfying success as a nuclear chemist and decided to sell his services and knowledge to the enemies of the western world, namely the former Soviet Union and terrorists.
"Martine Curie," bowed Curie. "A.K.A. agent Sei Lavie[vi] of the organization of V.I.L.E. is at your service."
"I commend your efforts of keeping the Inspector and French National Police busy Mister Lavie," said Carmen.
"However, you forgot us," said a voice from behind.
Carmen and Curie turned and saw both the real Becky and Red pushing two unconscious V.I.L.E. goons to the ground. After dusting their hands, Becky marched up to Carmen while flexing her fists.
"It's been a while Carmen," said Becky.
"Why, Miss Wolfe," smiled Carmen. "Are you here for my capture?"
"I'm here for something else, and that man Curie has it."
Realizing what Becky was after, Curie puts his hand in his pants pocket and gripped the velvet bag containing the glass slipper fragment.
"Besides being a Assassin-Mercenary, you apparently do heists as well," said Carmen as she stepped towards Becky.
"I was taught by the best you know," said Becky.
"You were taught not to kill in my service."
"I had to. That guard was about to kill you."
"He had a family, Becky."
"That was the risk of being a guard of the most ruthless oil baron in the Middle East. My job was to protect you, and protect you I did."
"There could have been another way."
"Indeed--you could prevent these deaths by stopping your kleptomaniacal excursions."
"But I can't do that. You do know why people risk their lives in deadly stunts for the thrill of it. For me, this is an intellectual thrill--an addictive game of cat and mouse. It is a drug that I cannot just quit cold turkey. I want to steal this museum off this ground Becky, and not even you will stop me."
"We'll see about that."
Becky removed her jacket, while Carmen removed her yellow scarf and red trench coat amidst the wind generated by the roaring blades of the helicopter. Becky was now exposed in her tank-top undershirt, while Carmen exposed herself in a white long-sleeved button shirt, a yellow and red-striped tie, and a black mini-skirt held fast by suspenders. Carmen was surprisingly busty, which was one of the reasons why Becky was attracted to her. Her red shoes have are specially made by one of her agents (and possible lover), Sara Bellum, and they have special hydraulics in the heels and other hidden features that can allow Carmen to jump and run without the risk of soreness towards the front of the foot.
The two women broke down into their fighting staring down at each other and ready to strike. Even though she was without her sword, Becky was very adept at fighting barehanded, but this will be the first time she'll fight Carmen in a life-and-death situation.
"Red-chan," said Becky. "Extract the fragment from that Curie bastard."
"I will," nodded Red.
Carmen and Becky launched towards each other with a punch, and then flipped towards themselves with a kick. They missed, and the clashed again with another kick.
"I guess you still got it Carmen," said Becky.
"I'm only thirty-eight dear Becky," smiled Carmen.
"And you look as hot as ever."
"You flatter me so."
They released their feet and flipped back. It was amazing that Carmen can keep her hat on during this fury, which was why she was so legendary.
Meanwhile, Red chased westward on the slanted rooftops after Curie while the V.I.L.E. goons covered his escape. During the gunfight, Curie hid behind window outcropping and pulled out his detonator.
"Just a little longer, Carmen," he smiled, "and you're through."
Inside the museum, Mireille and Kirika fought through way through the gimped V.I.L.E. agents, but not without killing them and without harming the art pieces. Of course, those two were trained to kill due to the nature of their profession, yet they upheld Becky's command in honor of Inspector Zenigata. Unfortunately, it was becoming difficult as the V.I.L.E. agents were swarming in at great numbers, but these men were different. Besides being armed with live bullets, their eyes, despite being covered by goggles, have the look of murder.
Usually at this time, some techno opera or choral composed by a Japanese woman born in Europe would be playing amidst beautifully bloodless violence, for that would be "Mireille and Kirika kick-ass" theme song[vii].
"This isn't like them to fight this way," said Mireille as she and her partner hid behind a pillar. "I don't think they are even Carmen's men."
"Unh," nodded Kirika.
"You know, that is really starting to annoy me."
Mireille smiled. "I guess we'll have a long talk about this in bed."
The two stepped out and fired their bullets at the goons' non-vitals, which include their limbs. As they collapsed, Mireille and Kirika dashed over them and climbed the stairwell leading to the roof. Mireille mentally checked one more time if Becky's Shinseiki katana was still tied on her back, and it was.
But the situation on the roof suddenly turned worse. Right after Red shot down the V.I.L.E. goons protecting Curie, the man himself stepped out with his hands held up in the air in a gesture of surrender. In this right palm was the velvet bag containing the real glass slipper fragment. Red slowly walked up to him with her pistol pointed at him.
"I surrender!" cried Curie.
"Put down the bag Mister Curie," commanded Red.
Curie did what she wanted, and then took two steps back. Red approached the bag and with her free left hand she reached over to grab it. Right when her fingers hovered above it, a violent colored gas expelled from the gas and into Red's face. Curie took advantage of the trap and shot Red with two tranquilizer darts. Red collapsed unable to move efficiently, but she was still conscious. Curie smiled sinisterly as he lifted her up to her feet as his new hostage.
The fight continued elsewhere between the Assassin-Mercenary and the smartest kleptomaniac in the world.
"Seriously woman," said Becky. "You need to get laid."
Carmen blocked Becky's punch with her gloved palm.
"Are you suggesting that you weren't sufficient enough?" she suggested.
"I meant that you should move on," replied Becky. "I can't believe you still hold a candle to me."
"It was a mistake. You know I don't sleep with own operatives--especially a woman!"
The two jumped back. Then they charged put each other into a painful stranglehold.
"You are so fucking repressed, Carmen," said Becky. "So what if you lost your parents. The same thing happened to me. You really ought to stop this stealing of national treasures and monuments."
"I can't stop Becky!" Carmen cried. "I can't! It's the only way I can live!"
"That's a lot of bullcrap! Your non-fatal thievery is causing more damage than you think! Think of all the taxes being siphoned from the people so that the governments can clean up and cover your damn mess! That money could have gone to education and medicine, and you took it all away from them! You are no saint bitch!"
"It takes one to know one!"
"I fight and kill because I have to survive! Those people had it coming! It's part of the job description!"
Carmen suddenly lifted Beck up into the air and slammed her onto the roof pro-wrestling style.
"No one should take the life of another Becky," said Carmen.
"I wish I can adhere to that, but I am more pragmatic," huffed Becky. "By the way, about that Martine Curie guy..."
"I already know. I banked on your guys' appearance to stop him."
"That's a very clever plan, Carmen," cried a voice.
From the shadows, Curie showed himself with an unmoving Red in his arm. He has a special pistol syringe poised for her neck.
"Red-chan!" Becky cried.
"Agent Sei Lavie!" Carmen cried. "What's the meaning of this?"
"I made doubly sure that I replaced your V.I.L.E. agents with those loyal to me," said Curie. "Of course, that was easy because almost all of them were getting sick and tired of your plans. What kind of criminal thief would toy with an international agency by stealing things and putting them back where she found it? I suppose in some way you keep the incompetent and one-track-minded ACME agency on life support because that was where you got your skills from. An interesting economic model no less, but the times are changing. Your silly games will now end here. I'll create a new V.I.L.E. that will not only control the world, but will also empower the masses--something that your egotistical mind cannot fathom."
"You intend to take over the world?"
"I merely want to create a new world order, Carmen. A world that won't go crazy with you stealing the Statue of Liberty and whatnot."
"Then what do you intend to do?"
"Kill you--for real. Along with everyone else in this museum, including that pesky Japanese Interpol who can't even catch the descendant of a legendary thief."
"Becky," Red uttered.
Becky pulled a throwing knife from her pocket, to which Curie noticed.
"I wouldn't if I were you," said Curie. "I can tell how precious this girl is to you. Even you should know that I have the upper hand."
"Becky, you shouldn't," said Carmen.
"I'm following the first rule of my methodology," said Becky. "Only, my love is on the line."
Carmen's eyes widen. "Your love?" she gasped. She then dropped down to her knees in complete shock. "Even so, you still shouldn't kill him."
"This man is evil Carmen. You're lucky they allow you to live because of your no-kill policy."
"Just give it up Old Wolfe-ears," said Curie. "I've got numerous dirty bombs rigged all around this museum, and they will most certainly shorten your lives. As for me, I'll get away with the last laugh. I will no longer be remembered as the black sheep of the famous Curies!"
The helicopter meant for Carmen and Curie suddenly blew up. In the midst of the distraction, Kirika leapt over Curie and Red with triple axial spin. Kirika shot at both Curie's left and right shoulders, causing him to let go of Red and his syringe pistol. Becky dropped her knife and dashed over to retrieve her beloved.
"Becky!" Mireille cried. "Catch!"
Appearing from the roof's edge, Mireille unsheathed the Shinseiki and threw over to Becky, who caught in snap.
"You wenches!" Curie growled. "I'll make you pay for this!"
Curie pulled out his silver and cylindrical dirty bomb remote detonator device ready to push the button. Becky suddenly sprung to her feet and in one slash she sliced off Curie's arm holding the detonator and his chest. The detonator itself slid across the roof and Mireille dove and caught it before it fell to the ground. Curie collapsed writhing in pain. Becky looks down on him with the tip her katana pointed at his head.
"Usually I would have killed you on the spot," said Becky. "Especially after putting my girlfriends' life at risk. However, I've decided not to at the request of my friend."
Becky looked back at the dazed Carmen and smiled. Carmen did not return her feeling in kind. Afterwards, Becky searched Curie and pulled out the glass slipper fragment inside of a plastic bag from his pants pocket, and then pockets it inside her pants pocket.
"I guess you can go home now, Carmen," said Becky.
"How could you have done this to me?" Carmen said.
Carmen pulled out from her a pocket in her chest a rectangular remote device and pushes the red button. All of a sudden, the ground started the shake. The giant helicopters that anchored themselves to the ground accelerated their rotors and were now in the process of lifting the entire museum from the grounds of Paris. It turns out they were automated a