“Why won’t it work? You look just like her!” Mel slammed a fist against the interior of the Pathfinder. After escaping through the hole she’d made in Thorn’s secret office, she and Derrick had managed a pretty uneventful walk back to the ship near the base of the Eiffel Tower.
“I told you the ship would be able to tell. It’s a cosmetic change only.” Derrick was currently sitting with both hands pressed against the ship’s dashboard in the appearance of Cassia. Even his voice was altered to match her higher pitch and sharp intensity. “Do you mind if I change back now, this is a very uncomfortable experience that verges on invasive.”
“You’re such a prude, it’s not like we’re stripping you down to look at her bits.” Mel waved a hand at him and stalked out of the ship to the rooftop they were parked on. Derrick took this as an opportunity to return to his normal form. He stared at his face in the reflective surface and tried to tackle the problem logically. Could he apply the same techniques to this situation that he would a ruptured spleen? Sometimes helpful, the exercise mainly served to curb his crippling anxiety. The face looking back at him remained, as always, composed and sure. He clenched his fists then followed after Mel.
“I know of a jumper we might be able to use.” Mel turned with an eyebrow raised and Derrick continued. “There was a man that Thorn turned to from time to time. He’s a smuggler of some kind and he’s a regular jumper. I’m not sure what he uses but I know how to reach him.”
“Well let’s grab some gear and get going then!” Mel slapped Derrick on the shoulder and skipped back into the Pathfinder to grab her things. Derrick stood still for a moment wondering if he’d regret this while Mel tossed supplies around behind him. After a few minutes, she emerged again and they watched the ship’s shimmering camouflage ripple across its surface.
“Bye again ship, thanks for nothing and also fuck you.” Mel smacked the surface of the Pathfinder and began to shimmy her way down the fire escape they’d used before with Derrick close behind.
As they reached the ground and began to walk along a path skirted by trees, Derrick pulled out his smartphone and navigated to the maps app. Rather than entering an address, he zoomed and panned across Paris, tapping a business here and there. Mel tapped her foot impatiently, looking around for anyone who might be watching them.
“What are you doing? Do you know where this guy is or not?” Mel hovered over Derrick’s shoulder as he tapped on Chez Gourmets and shook his head.
“It’s complicated.” Derrick continued until Le Grande Residence jogged his memory. “Here we go, we need to take the metro. We need to go to one of the northeastern suburbs for this. I don’t know where he works, but the one time Thorn had me do a drop for him it was through this sweet shop.” Derrick tilted the phone towards Mel to show their destination, then began walking towards the station.
The trip through Paris was uneventful. Derrick had gotten used to the city. He’d studied it and knew it well. This was his hideout and he had no time to see it as a tourist might. He’d gotten the sense that Mel had traveled extensively, both on Earth and between Earths, so he was surprised by the way she ogled everything they passed. Mel had been to Paris, multiple versions of it actually, but still she was awed by its sights, sounds, and smells. She made them stop for espresso and then forced them to add fifteen minutes to their trip to look at the Arc de Triomphe. Now, Derrick impatiently waited for Mel outside a cafe near their destination. She’d convinced the owner to let her use the employee restroom somehow.
“Much better, so where were we? Cameroon?” Mel stepped onto the sidewalk next to him and attempted to return to their previous conversation about countries they’d been to.
“We were about to try to find a jumper. So that we can, hopefully, find the rest of your group.” Derrick frowned at her and pointed down the street. “Another block and we’ll be there, come on.”
They approached a rundown storefront simply labeled Chocolat and Derrick sighed when he noticed Mel licking her lips. Before entering, he checked his pockets and remembered the penknife he had taken from the Pathfinder. Mel had a gun tucked somewhere on her person. Derrick had insisted it wasn’t necessary but as they entered the sweet shop, Derrick decided he was glad she hadn’t listened.
The last time he’d come here had been a delivery for Thorn. No questions, no other information. Derrick had taken a North Face backpack from Thorn, walked it nearly four hours across the city, delivered it to a woman in the shop, then rode the metro back to Thorn and was handed an envelope filled with 1,000 Euros.
This time, Derrick was surprised to find the shop active. At least five customers milled around the shop where it was empty last time. A teenager was behind the counter completing a transaction with a young couple and the woman Derrick had met before was nowhere to be seen.
“Excuse me,” Derrick approached the counter as the couple left, “I’m looking for the owner? I was supposed to meet with a friend here.”
The young man looked surprised by Derrick’s flawless French but regained his composure quickly. While sorting bills into the cash register he nodded to a back door.
“She is working on a batch of chocolates and usually doesn’t see visitors.”
“She’ll make an exception.” Derrick headed towards the door and the teen cut him off.
“Please, I can let her know. It would be better if I go in first.” He put out his hands and waited for Derrick to nod before heading back through the door. Through the crack, Derrick could faintly hear him speaking to a woman but couldn’t make out the exact words. After a moment, both emerged. The woman was the same he’d delivered to before and her eyebrow rose curiously when she saw him. She ushered him and Mel into an industrial kitchen in the back where the smell of chocolate was overwhelming. Mel smiled and breathed deeply, practically floating like a cartoon character.
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“I’m not expecting deliveries, what can I do for you?” The woman eyed Derrick warily as she spoke.
“I’m looking for the man who receives the deliveries. I’ve heard they call him Twixt?” Derrick settled on getting straight to the point, this woman didn’t look like she had time for nonsense or pleasantries.
“Some do.” She said with a sad look. “Others call him Nico.”
“Please, we just need to speak with him. We need to get somewhere and we think he can help.”
The woman examined them thoughtfully then nodded once. She held a hand up indicating they should wait and left through a back door.
“Do we just sit here on our asses? This better not be a waste Derrick, I spent 90 Euros so far this trip.”
“That is because you bought coffee and a scone and bribed your way into the bathroom.” Derrick looked at her sideways with a half smile playing across his lips.
Mel flipped him off and plopped into a wooden chair in the corner of the room. Derrick remained where he was as the minutes passed by. It was a half hour before the back door reopened but the woman did not return. A bulky man in a dark green tracksuit entered first and looked both of them over. Behind him was a thinner, athletic looking man with red Nike shoes. He had dark skin and wore jeans and a plain tank top.
“Nico.” He held out a hand for them to shake then nodded to the large man.
“Any weapons?” The large man said to them. Mel gently revealed the handgun holstered under her pantline while Derrick produced the penknife. When he folded the blade out, both Mel and the larger of the gentleman snickered.
“I’m Derrick, I’ve delivered for you before from Thorn. I thought you might be able to help us. We need to get to another Earth.” Derrick took a chance that the muscle knew Nico’s business.
“You need a jump? You’re in luck, you do a delivery run for me, you can use the jumper for one extra jump. Deal?”
“Uh, yes, deal then.” Derrick was taken aback. It seemed too easy.
“The delivery was intercepted. You’ll need to get it back first.” There’s the catch Derrick thought. Mel hopped up.
“Easy enough, any idea where it is?”
----------------------------------------
Derrick watched as Mel looked through a pair of binoculars at the auto shop across the street. Mel had picked the lock of a second story art studio and they were currently sitting in the dark by the window. Derrick was surprised to find Mel very meticulous and insisted they case the place before trying to recover the delivery.
“What do you see?” Derrick could see two mechanics were out front looking under the hood of a sedan, he hoped Mel was getting a little more information.
“Stupid ass street gang punks by the look of it, I don’t think they have a major affiliation. Looks like there are six of them inside at the moment, can’t tell if the mechanics are in on it. I think the delivery we are looking for is in the garage though. I have half of an idea.” While Mel was talking a young man stepped out of a side door and walked to a nearby car. “Oh shit, now, go time!”
“Wait, what? You said you only have half a plan.” Derrick stood as Mel raced to the door.
“Yes, quick look like that fucker down there and follow me! We’ll get the rest when we get there!” Mel ran out the door and Derrick sighed as he followed after her.
Outside, Mel casually crossed the street and Derrick tried to act naturally while adjusting his appearance to match the teenager in the alley ahead of them. Mel pulled out her gun smoothly as they entered the alley and was on their target in a flash. With one hand over his mouth she smacked his temple with the butt of her handgun. As he dropped in a heap, Derrick stood watching.
“And now?” Derrick whispered to her and helped stuff the teenager into the car’s back seat.
“Easy, you put these clothes on and you go inside and get the delivery of course.” Mel had begun stripping the gangster’s outer layer of clothes and Derrick reluctantly changed into the costume.
“I’ll be right behind you.” Derrick frowned at her and walked towards the shop’s side door. Inside, he found himself in a garage with multiple vehicles in stages of being taken apart or put back together. A man with long hair and several tattoos creeping up his neck was currently working underneath one of the cars. On the other side of the garage, there was a lounge area where three gangsters were watching a football match. That left one more if Mel was right.
“Nobody fucking move or I blow his head off!” Mel’s voice erupted into the space and Derrick felt the barrel of her pistol press against his temple.
“You cannot be serious.” He whispered harshly. She shoved him forward and pulled a lever. The nearby car lowered and a scream came out from under it as she trapped the man working there.
“Don’t try it!” She shouted to the trio in the lounge and prodded at the lever again. “I’ll squish him.”
The three on the couch slowly raised their hands away from the guns tucked into their waistbands.
“Better. Where’s the last guy?” She pointed the gun around. “There was one more of you.”
As she finished, a shot rang out from the opposite corner of the room and Derrick heard the bullet whiz overhead.
“Are you fucking kidding?” Mel shouted and kicked the lever. Horrible screams erupted from beneath the car as the last gangster burst out of a restroom gun blazing. Mel shoved Derrick away and dove behind a large toolbox. Wasting no time, the three leapt up and began firing. Before they could find cover, Mel returned fire, dropping one of them.
“Emile! Here!” One of the remaining gangsters was tossing a gun to Derrick. Confused, he caught it, then turned it on the tosser. Derrick shot him once in each leg then tucked behind a Coca Cola vending machine as the man by the bathroom fired wildly.
From where she crouched, Mel saw Derrick shoot one of the gangsters. With only two left she sprinted free of her cover, hopped off the hood of a mini cooper and cracked the first shooter across the face with her handgun before turning and shooting the last gangster in the arm.
Satisfied that they wouldn’t be fighting back, Mel began searching pockets for keys then moved to the trunk of Nico’s stolen Volkswagen. Derrick joined her there, returning his appearance to normal as she opened it to get the package.
“Holy shit.” Mel and Derrick exchanged a look and stared at the contents of the trunk. Looking up at them was a child who couldn’t be more than eight or nine years old. He gave them a nervous wave before Mel shut the trunk again.