Richard saw them moving off together and he pushed his way through the crowd gathering near the screaming woman, drawing some belligerence from a few of the onlookers. He hopped over the small enclosure for the bar area and hurried after the two women.

Louise bullied her way past the kitchen staff and out into the narrow hallway leading past the storage and delivery areas. Richard burst into the kitchen and found two women assisting a third who had a gash in her forehead.

"Which way?" he hollered.

One of the women pointed and he broke into a trot, shoving through the swinging door and out into the corridor. Louise and Monique just disappeared around a corner and he upped his speed, sliding on the polished tiles into the same turn. The fire door on the landing below hissed shut as he leaped down the stairs and he caught it just before it latched. How had Louise done that?

The hallway was empty but short and Richard covered both ends too quickly for them to have reached the far end of either branch. He turned back and studied the three doors he'd passed. They had to be in one of those rooms. He stepped close to the first door and listened, holding his breath. Likely they were doing the same, he figured.

He gently tried the knob but it was locked. That was a good probability as well. He tried each door in turn and then stood thinking as to how to pick the correct one.

Louise had her head against the door, straining to hear anything. Monique was on her knees at her feet, the garrote snugly about her neck and the knife resting against her cheek. She began to whimper and the knife increased in pressure.

Louise backed away from the door, pulling Monique with her but Monique's leg swung around with the action and her high heel hit the door. They both froze, Louise glaring at her captive and baring her teeth.

Richard heard the thunk, and he spun toward the door he was certain the sound had come from. He knew he couldn't break through the industrial door so he decided to gamble and try to negotiate.

"Louise? I know you're in there with Monique and I know what your plan was. Murray already tried to take me in the hall upstairs; he's with Nathan at the moment so he won't be helping you. Let's be reasonable about this. Both Monique and I have accounts set up with firewalls and we don't know one another's banks or detailed arrangements. Threatening one of us is useless if you think it will get you the money." He waited for a response, hoping it had a chance.

Louise listened with some surprise, particularly about Murray. She didn't think anyone could best him, and nobody had ever mentioned money. Monique looked up and made a placating gesture.

"He's telling you the truth." Her words came out in a rasp. "I tried to find out where he sent his share . . . I was angry and I intended to steal it from him."

"How much money are we talking about?"

"Does it matter? If you kill me you won't see any of it anyway. Same goes with Richard."

"I don't have to kill you to get the information, Monique. I could leave you a scarred version of your former self."

"Then you might as well kill me. I won't quit without a fight and Richard will kill you."

"Louise?" Richard's voice came through the door with impatient urgency.

"How can I know to trust you?" She called back.

"My word. It's all I can offer under the circumstances. Besides, you still have a captive."

"Get back across the hall and put your hands on your head."

Richard complied and waited as the door slowly opened and Monique came out on her knees, the garrote still around her neck.

"Let her go and the three of us can talk about a satisfactory arrangement." Richard said.

"Let's just talk." Louise closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

"Okay." He looked at Monique and started. "Without argument, we would both be willing to give you a substantial sum in return for your word that we would never hear from or see you again in any capacity. You can tell Murray, if he's not out of play, whatever story you wish. The amount will let you leave his control, Louise."

"How much are we talking about?"

The interest was there and Richard saw Monique's face light with some hope. He just had to be careful how he presented the deal.

"Can we do this in a more civilized manner? Maybe over a drink or something?"

"This is just so much delaying hogwash, isn't it?"

"No! No, Louise, it isn't. I meant what I said but let's call a truce at least while we talk."

"Isn't that charming." The words sounded like a shovel scraping on concrete.

The trio looked down the hall and watched Murray, pushing a beaten Nathan toward them.

"Murray! I've got them both together, just like you wanted." Louise called.

"And I've got all of you just where I wanted." He stepped away from Nathan who sagged against the wall, and pointed the large, silenced automatic at the group.

"Murray?"

"Let her go, Louise." The gun drifted up toward her face.

Louise released the garrote and Monique staggered to her feet, gripping her throat with one hand and steadying herself on the wall with the other.

"Drop the garrote too." Murray steadied the gun on her until she let the wire drop to the floor.

Richard watched her carefully, he knew she still had a knife, which she must be concealing in her other hand.

"So Mister Carstairs, the blow to my throat was a deft piece of work. I am lucky to still be breathing let alone talking." Murray coughed dangerously.

"Not so deft after all then." Richard said. Murray made an ugly sound that was supposed to be a laugh and winced in pain from his fractured collar bone.

"Right, enough chit chat. I want the bank names and account numbers from both of you. Now."

"Or what, Murray?"

"Or I begin with shattered knees on your old lover there." Monique shot a fearful glance at Richard.

"Well, like you said, she's my old lover."

Monique uttered a soft grunt, her eyes searching Richard's face and then swinging over to Murray.

"What will it be?" Murray asked.

"The information won't do you any good, Murray. Like I told Louise when we started negotiating our deal."

"You bastard!" Louise stepped toward Richard and Murray stepped forward, his gun swinging around toward her.

The shot sounded like one of Nathan's coughs and Louise gave a small cry and slammed back against the door. Her arm flicked up and a silver flash zipped past Richard and caught Murray low on his gun side. He yelped in surprise staring down at the blade sticking into his side and stumbling forward, unleashed a short volley that drove Louise down the corridor in a twisting bleeding, pirouette. She bounced off the wall and crumpled to the floor, sliding a few feet then stopping still.

Monique gathered herself and made a dash toward Nathan, drawing Murray's attention, allowing Richard to deliver a high kick to his back. The gun fired again and Nathan coughed aloud, his shirt front-staining bright red.

Murray staggered forward from the impact and fell into Nathan, both men crashed down in a heap, Murray falling on the knife, driving it further into his side and losing his grip on the gun. Richard snatched up the garrote from the floor and quickly slipped it over Murray's neck.

"This is for all those innocents, Murray and even for Louise." He yanked the ends tight and held on while Murray thrashed helplessly beneath him. Gradually he felt the life ebb away and his hands released the wire and started shaking. He crawled off Murray's back and moved over to Nathan feeling for a pulse and finding one . . . very weak.

"I guess that's the end of the Agency as far as we're concerned." He looked up into the barrel of Murray's gun and then into Monique's face.

"Almost, Richard."

"Not satisfied with your share anymore?"

"Not when your old lover can have it all. Get up."

Richard stood and stretched his back then stepped over the bodies and started back up the corridor.

"Nathan's still breathing."

"Good for him." She nudged him with the gun, "Move."

At the end of the hallway he went through the fire door, feeling the gun in his back and a moment later he heard Monique groan and immediately turned and ducked into a defensive pose as she collapsed to the floor.

Behind her Richard stared up into the calm face of René.

"My God, René! How . . . ?"

"I saw what was happening upstairs and I just followed the parade down here."

"Jesus, you could have been hurt." He took her in his arms and hugged her hard. "Let's get out of here."

"What about her?"

He looked down at Monique's body. "How hard did you hit her?" A bell tried to ring in his head but was muffled by her explanation as he watched her bend down and feel around Monique's neck.

"Oh God. I think she's dead."

Richard stared at the body of the woman he had considered his lover and future partner at one point. Her arm was twisted at an awkward angle and her hair had spilled over the side of her face. René shoved her hand into her pocket and stood up. "I'm sorry Richard."

"Don't be, Monique lived a life that had this kind of ending written all over it. If anything, I feel lucky we weren't still together." He held out a hand and led René up the stairs to the exit door.

*************

Upstairs in the main concourse the police and security were trying to make sense of the statements flooding from dozens of passengers describing the fighting and the man running through the crowd and into the bar. They passed the perimeter without being recognized or even noticed.

"Richard wait. I need to go to the washroom."

"Can't you manage until we're out of here?" He glanced around at the crowd.

"No. I'll only be a few minutes; I- I feel a bit dizzy." She gave a helpless shrug, squeezed his hand and walked swiftly to the washroom corridor and into the women's section.

The blonde at the sink turned and smiled as René slipped the tiny syringe from her pocket and dropped it in the trash.

"Success?"

"Almost too easy."

"Well done, René. You can now concentrate on helping Carstairs access her money as well. Regardless of this business of passwords and about how they set up the accounts, there will be a trail and your friend will know how to follow it."

"I can't be too long."

The woman nodded and handed René a slip of paper with a number on it. "Dalton will be more than pleased with the results . . . and in time with the pleasure of dealing with Carstairs. When you can do it safely, call that number. The Council has established a complete series of plans for egress should it become necessary; they will instruct you.

The reestablishment of the Whycliffe Foundation and the donor network in Cora's memory will soon be complete. The Agency sorely underestimated Dalton when they edged him aside."

"I have always kept that fact top of mind; I fully intend to achieve my goal." She straightened her dress and gave a last look in the mirror.

The blonde studied her as she turned to leave. "I know Cora was your step sister but the ultimate plan is the money, the destruction of the Agency and the end of Richard Carstairs; so it is our goal. ." The emphasis wasn't lost on René. She nodded and listened to her contact's update.

"Jean Tremblay and his mistress were butchered in his villa and in the basement Angelo Spataro and the waiter photographer were both found dead. Alaine Monet was discovered in the hotel room booked by Monique under the name of Beauclair; it looked like the work of Louise."

"I must go. Richard will become suspicious."

"The body count in this has been considerable, more than the Council cared for."

"We had little choice, and Monique was our only deliberate action."

"Don't forget that in the end your Richard will need to be eliminated as well." Her look was long and hard.

"I understand; it won't be a problem."

"We will leave a message with Christopher when we want to meet again."

René rinsed her hands and dried them then with one more critical look in the mirror, opened the door.

Richard was waiting with strained patience when she ran up to him and grasped his hand. "Sorry, I had to wait for the hand drier. Gabby females and all. I feel much better now." She smiled brightly. "Okay Mister Barber, shall we go?"

"Gladly Mrs. Barber. Change of plans; we'll grab a train to France and fly to our future from there."

"Sounds wonderful, Donald. Just wonderful."

THE END

Since Wattpad doesn't permit multiple dedications, I would like to mention four authors who indirectly provided inspiration for this story.

@henry_scott @Frode92 @RainerSalt @jeff_bond