13-09-2019, 07:49 AM
Maria looked out the door. Now that the Stealth part of her rescue was over, the Ultimados were in open combat with Igazi's remaining men outside.
"I can go out there." Maria told the Englishman. "I will tell them that you helped me."
"I'd greatly appreciate that gesture, Princessness." Mander said with a smile, producing the crumpled piece of stationary he'd been re-reading in secret every chance he got. He dialed the number. "If you'd just give me half a tick to talk to yer Gram and ask to not get shot, that'd be lovely."
"Hello?" Came La Contessa's voice on the other end, obviously only answering the call out of shock and reflex.
"Is this Contessa Helena de San Finzione?" Mander asked, motioning for Maria to step out first, as he could hear her voice from outside the shack at this distance.
"Yes." A stunned Helen replied.
Mander realized that she'd have heard the gunshots and might assume that Maria was already dead. He gestured to her that it was probably a safe moment to emerge.
"We've not been properly introduced. My name is Mander. I got your letter. I've always wanted an island."
After Maria was clearly visible in the moonlight, he tossed his gun and the phone out the door, then put his hands up and stepped forward.
* * *
Because Jerry Scott was demonstrably guilty of "Being Willing Party to Conspiracy to Commit a Direct Crime Against La Contessa Herself;" he and all co-conspirators had voluntarily declared themselves Enemies of San Finzione and forfeited all of her legal protections. His suicide and last words, combined with what they'd gathered to this point, amounted to a Confession of Guilt. No warrant would be needed for La Policia to blow the hinges off the front door of Jerry Scott's single-bedroom house and start going through his life. Having secured the perimeter, Prefect Martin LeGrasse had been awaiting Generalissimo Ramirez and D.I. Allaine's arrival to give the go order. The three of them stood behind his car for cover.
"Proceed with caution, Prefect." Luc suggested. He nodded confirmation. "Scott was willing to die to evade capture. That worst-case scenario aside, fanatics like him tend to be obsessed survivalists. Dreaming of a race war that will allow them to live out their Rambo fantasies and that their guns will somehow save them from drones, tanks, and helicopters. That everyone thinks they're fools drives their persecution complex and fuels the fantasy of 'the government is coming for my guns any second!' They believe themselves capable of winning that scenario; fantasized for years of the day They TRY to pry HIS guns from his cold, dead fingers! Lethal boobytraps are a very real concern."
LeGrasse confirmed his understanding and gave the Go order. Once SWAT entered, K-9 units followed to sniff for traps or bombs. The gathered neighbors outside the barricades jumped as one, then another, then a third shotgun blast blew off the hinges and the door fell open. SWAT cleared the living room; bomb squad on standby in case they were needed. Luc gave a cigarette to Ramirez since they had time. He offered one to LeGrasse, who politely refused.
"Where are your people, Luc?" Ramirez asked as they waited to be told it was safe to enter.
"The studio." Luc replied. "We found one plant; Dietz could have more. The time for subtlety is over. This is now a manhunt."
"Scott wasn't a plant, though. He already worked for the studio back in America."
"Oui, the wrong word to use. 'Inside Man,' then. Scott kept his beliefs suppressed, he probably sought out the company of fellow closet racists; people he can hang out with after work and freely discuss hating those who are different. Some of them may have relocated to San Finzione as well; and it's no fun keeping all your hate to yourself."
Ramirez nodded agreement as he took a drag. He moved in closer to the other two before commenting. LeGrasse stood and took in their words.
"Like before," Hernando said. "Too many people for La Contessa to screen each one. People like Scott wouldn't have gone through the same extreme vetting as executives and those likely to interact personally with her. Si, some poker buddies may have also slipped past the process."
"I can go out there." Maria told the Englishman. "I will tell them that you helped me."
"I'd greatly appreciate that gesture, Princessness." Mander said with a smile, producing the crumpled piece of stationary he'd been re-reading in secret every chance he got. He dialed the number. "If you'd just give me half a tick to talk to yer Gram and ask to not get shot, that'd be lovely."
"Hello?" Came La Contessa's voice on the other end, obviously only answering the call out of shock and reflex.
"Is this Contessa Helena de San Finzione?" Mander asked, motioning for Maria to step out first, as he could hear her voice from outside the shack at this distance.
"Yes." A stunned Helen replied.
Mander realized that she'd have heard the gunshots and might assume that Maria was already dead. He gestured to her that it was probably a safe moment to emerge.
"We've not been properly introduced. My name is Mander. I got your letter. I've always wanted an island."
After Maria was clearly visible in the moonlight, he tossed his gun and the phone out the door, then put his hands up and stepped forward.
* * *
Because Jerry Scott was demonstrably guilty of "Being Willing Party to Conspiracy to Commit a Direct Crime Against La Contessa Herself;" he and all co-conspirators had voluntarily declared themselves Enemies of San Finzione and forfeited all of her legal protections. His suicide and last words, combined with what they'd gathered to this point, amounted to a Confession of Guilt. No warrant would be needed for La Policia to blow the hinges off the front door of Jerry Scott's single-bedroom house and start going through his life. Having secured the perimeter, Prefect Martin LeGrasse had been awaiting Generalissimo Ramirez and D.I. Allaine's arrival to give the go order. The three of them stood behind his car for cover.
"Proceed with caution, Prefect." Luc suggested. He nodded confirmation. "Scott was willing to die to evade capture. That worst-case scenario aside, fanatics like him tend to be obsessed survivalists. Dreaming of a race war that will allow them to live out their Rambo fantasies and that their guns will somehow save them from drones, tanks, and helicopters. That everyone thinks they're fools drives their persecution complex and fuels the fantasy of 'the government is coming for my guns any second!' They believe themselves capable of winning that scenario; fantasized for years of the day They TRY to pry HIS guns from his cold, dead fingers! Lethal boobytraps are a very real concern."
LeGrasse confirmed his understanding and gave the Go order. Once SWAT entered, K-9 units followed to sniff for traps or bombs. The gathered neighbors outside the barricades jumped as one, then another, then a third shotgun blast blew off the hinges and the door fell open. SWAT cleared the living room; bomb squad on standby in case they were needed. Luc gave a cigarette to Ramirez since they had time. He offered one to LeGrasse, who politely refused.
"Where are your people, Luc?" Ramirez asked as they waited to be told it was safe to enter.
"The studio." Luc replied. "We found one plant; Dietz could have more. The time for subtlety is over. This is now a manhunt."
"Scott wasn't a plant, though. He already worked for the studio back in America."
"Oui, the wrong word to use. 'Inside Man,' then. Scott kept his beliefs suppressed, he probably sought out the company of fellow closet racists; people he can hang out with after work and freely discuss hating those who are different. Some of them may have relocated to San Finzione as well; and it's no fun keeping all your hate to yourself."
Ramirez nodded agreement as he took a drag. He moved in closer to the other two before commenting. LeGrasse stood and took in their words.
"Like before," Hernando said. "Too many people for La Contessa to screen each one. People like Scott wouldn't have gone through the same extreme vetting as executives and those likely to interact personally with her. Si, some poker buddies may have also slipped past the process."
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