The Last Avengers Story Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen: The Rescue

PRESENT DAY

LONDON

I.

"How did we get along without the internet," Purdey murmured to himself as he brought a tray piled high with cheese and crackers into the living room of Emma Peel's home. (Each of Steed's friends had keys to everyone else's homes - they were a peripatetic bunch and it was always "mi casa es su casa" amongst them.

Tara King, Purdey and Cathy Gale were holding a council of war. Their mission was to rescue a family of nine people, each one most likely tied up and unable to move in various rooms of a house located at 45 Rupert Lane. Mike Gambit was out on a recce even as they munched.

Cathy sipped her wine. "Just because the people were tied up in that house when they were photographed does not necessarily mean that they are still there," she commented.

"But the odds are very good," Tara objected. "Why go to all that trouble to tie them up, then untie them and move them somewhere else? And by moving them out of the house they'd increase the chances of someone noticing something...odd. Much easier just to leave them where they are, surely."

"Well, I would have separated them," Cathy said. "But then I always like to assume that anything that can go wrong will, and have a contingency plan. If these people are super confident that their plan can't fail, perhaps they didn't see the need to split up their hostages."

"I'm sure they don't think their plan can fail," Purdey laughed. "They never would have expected two such people as John Steed and Emma Peel to be among their guests from the Mulberry Luxury Retirement Center."

"Yes. Sucks for them, as my grandson would say." Tara murmured.

At that moment, Mike Gambit entered the room. He shrugged out of a leather jacket to reveal a torn, dirty white T-shirt - a shirt without sleeves to reveal his missing right arm, but loose enough to not reveal that the rest of his musculature was that of a powerful athlete. His jeans were in a similarly tatty state. On his chest was a rather large, baroque, tasteless medallion - which was also a digital camera.

"They're there, all right," he reported, taking the medallion from his neck and handing it to Purdey, who immediately plugged it into a computer to download the photographs. "I hit every house on the street, asking for some cash for a hard up bloke, and everyone was quite generous." He extended a wad of pound notes. "After I'd refused to move off til they paid me. Made quite a noise at number 53, I can tell you.

"Then I got to #54 and the old lady answered the door. Verinder's wife. Terrified as could be, but putting on a brave front. They must keep her free to deal with any visitors, put off friends unexpectedly dropping over for tea, that sort of thing.

I talked loudly, demanding the cash, and said I wouldn't go away until I got some. She got all flustered, looked behind her...a man came to the door - not anyone in the photographs. A tough if ever I saw one. Handed me a wad of bills and told me to push off.

"You got any more people in there?" I demanded. "Hey, lady, any more in there? I can use as much help as I can get, ya know." And I waggled my stump at the tough. She looked at me...and she said, "It's just my family in here. But they can't have anything to do with the likes of you. We've given as much as we can. Please go away."

So I touched my forelock and shambled off to the next house."

Cathy nodded. "Confirmation then, I think. That the family's there, but only one guard?"

Gambit shrugged. "Probably don't need more than one, to watch over one little old lady and a lot more tied up."

"Depends on who the little old lady is, I'd say." Cathy Gale commented, and winked at Gambit.

Gambit grinned back. Then, "So, how are we going to get them out?"

II.

Mike Gambit lifted up the screen on the case that looked like a portable DVD player, and turned it on. The front lawn of 54 Rupert Lane appeared on the screen, as taken from a camera in a car parked on the opposite side of the road from the house.

He placed an earbud in his ear, then spoke into the voice-operated microphone that extended only as far as his earlobe, but nevertheless caught his every word.

"Testing, testing."

"Receiving you loud and clear," came Purdey's voice.

"I'm in position. The front camera is on. Turn on your cameras."

After a few seconds three small squares appeared in the lower right portion of the screen, with the faces of Cathy Gale, Tara Truffaut and Purdey in them, depending on who they were looking at any particular time. The three women were wearing glasses, each with a miniature camera embedded in the frame.

"All three cameras working," Gambit reported.

"Jolly good."

Gambit hefted the door battering ram - which he could manipulate quite easily even with his artificial hand. He didn't want to have to break in the back door - a security system might be activated and he didn't want to set it off, because it would cause the police to answer the alarm, and the news reporters would be on the scene before the alarm had died away.

On the other hand, if things went wrong inside, he'd have to go in.

"Gambit, we're going in."

"Right. Break a leg."

Purdey had parked the reconnaissance car at the front of the house an hour ago, and then strolled off casually down the street and out of sight, where she'd foregathered with Cathy and Tara. Gambit's van, with the door open, was parked behind the house, so that all he'd have to do was jump out and run up the path to the back door if the worst came to the worst.

It took training, and a bit of skill, to be able to concentrate on four screens at one time, but Gambit was a past master at it. He cradled the battering ram in his arm and waited.

Cathy Gale, Tara Truffaut and Purdey walked casually down the street towards their target. Tara carried a plate on which rested what looked like a German Chocolate Cake. They were each dressed to the nines.

They entered the yard at 54 Rupert Lane and walked up the path, chattering cheerfully to each other. Cathy knocked on the door. "Yoo hoo, Audrey," she called, knocking again. "The Cake Ladies are here."

The door opened just a smidgen, and Audrey Verinder looked out at them. "I'm afraid you..."

"Don't keep us waiting on the mat, there's a good girl," Cathy said loudly. "Tara's going to drop that cake any moment. Let us in," and then she pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, followed quickly by Tara. Tara quickly took the lead and took two long steps into the living room, where a man with a gun was just beginning to extend his arm.

Tara threw the cake with the expertness born of long practice of 'turning anything handy into a weapon,' and the squidgy mass caught him full in the face. He didn't even have time to lift a hand to wipe his eyes before she'd taken another long stride and kicked him where it would do the most good.

Purdey had held back Mrs. Verinder. "Are there any more men in the house?" she asked.

"No, no, just him! My god, how did you know...how did you know...never mind that...please...my family..."

"I think they'll all need a cup of tea, Mrs. Verinder." Purdey said soothingly. "Let's go make some while my colleagues release your family, and I'll explain what's going on."

Seconds later Gambit entered the house and the hard work of restoring a family's shattered sense of safety and dignity began.