Quaranteam - Book Two (Ch. 30.5)

Intermission Six - Sofia

May 8 th, 2021 - Andorra la Vella, Andorra

Despite the magnificent view she had looking down Meritxell Avenue towards the mountains Colonel Sofia Ramirez couldn't find herself relaxing all that much in the small country of Andorra. Not because it wasn't beautiful - which it absolutely was - but because she was on mission, and that meant keeping tabs on both the clock and the streets, which were mostly empty, being that it was a Sunday.

She was in the city of Andorra la Vella, the capital of the tiny country, a city with a population not large enough to even fill half of any one of the top ten futbol stadiums in her home country of Spain. Even giving them the benefit of the satellite villages and the next city over, the area she was in barely had forty thousand people in it.

As such, it had somehow remained entirely untouched by the DuoHalo virus, with the guards at the checkpoints having run her test carefully before having allowed her to come in, the staff at the checkpoints in full hazmat suits. And with good cause. The four thousand or so kids there between the ages of 11 and 17 might be the only remaining people of that age on the planet. Andorran children weren't allowed outside of their homes, and wouldn't be until they turned 18, as the Andorran people had seen the news, and refused to take any risks. The only people allowed in and out of the country were those who were already both vaccinated and had tested negative.

The problem was that tourism had been Andorra's major economic income, and as such, they couldn't keep their borders closed forever. Already, there had been a big push for the country to vaccinate all its population so that tourists could start to flock in again.

To do so, all the teenagers would be put into what they were calling Casa de les Bombolles, aka "The Bubble House." This structure, nearly halfway through construction already, would be the largest single structure in Andorra, more of a mini village than a building. Within the space, the four thousand kids, along with a handful of a hundred adults or so, would be effectively quarantined within the structure until all the children had reached the age of 18, at which point they could be given vaccinations for DuoHalo, assuming some better solution hadn't been found in the intervening time.

The other option was unthinkable.

The New Zealand disaster had spurned the Andorrans to work harder, faster, cutting the timetable for their project from 18 months to a slender 8, with the project having started work on New Year's Day. With everyone being unable to support the tourism trade, it had been an easy call to make. Now, however, the country was starting to let small amounts of travelers back into the nation, so some businesses, like the Cafeteria Marticella that she was currently sitting outside of, enjoying her coffee, were offering some service.

Come September, the country would fully reopen for business, barring those people who would be living in the Bubble House.

Once Bubble House was finished and all the teenagers were safely ensconced in its walls, the Andorran government had struck deals with both the United States and the United Kingdom to vaccinate all its people. There were more men than women in the tiny nation, so a percentage of them, about four thousand or close to 10% of the available men, would be relocated to either America or Britain, and a number of women from those countries who had wanted to leave their old lives behind would be brought to Andorra, to make sure every man had at least four or five women to take care of him. They would also work on becoming a new tech center for Europe, which meant some of the women moving into Andorra would be establishing new businesses there, beyond the existing tourism.

The Americans and Brits were scheduled to arrive on Sept. 3rd and there were already boots on the ground doing location and talent scouting within the tiny nation, although foreigners were still few and far between, because if a single person with DuoHalo entered the country, it would be game over.

That didn't leave a big window for what Sofia needed to do. She and her team had crossed over one by one over the span of Friday at the border, just north of La Farga de Moles, although before that, they had come up from Berga, an hour and half south-southeast of Andorra by car. Most of them, anyway. One member of her Team, Rosa, had crossed the border by climbing the mountainous area around the outskirts of the border, hiking it, just to prove it could be done, and to stash the gear they would need if they had to use that as their exit strategy. It was the last thing Sofia wanted, but the options were what the options were, as her commander had always liked to say during training.

The compulsions in their heads were getting harder and harder to resist. Sofia felt a constant thrumming at the back of her skull that kept eating away at her ability to think rationally. The doctors had made it clear what had happened - she'd fought off an offshoot of DuoHalo called the Bluebeard variant recently, and the offshoot had affected the nanobots coursing through her system, and she'd passed that on to the rest of her Team.

ACQUIRE.

Doctors had nicknamed it 'The Conquistador Effect,' at least on this side of the border. The French were referring to it as 'The Barbarian Effect.' Whatever name you gave to it, the results remained the same.

While the DuoHalo itself was purged from the system, the slightly tweaked nanobots would make their way into the principal, and from there, would spread out to all the other members of the Team, giving them all the same defect of the Conquistador Effect.

Any Team that recovered from the Bluebeard variant of DuoHalo needed to voluntarily add a new member to their Team or risk turning into feral barbarians, hellbent on getting someone new to add into their Team, with a complete disregard for safety or laws. Trying to resist would eventually lead to death, in much the same manner as if a woman was injected with the serum but then never given a partner, with the serum starting to eat away at the internal organs. Thankfully one new addition provided relief for an entire Team, if they all had sex with their primary soon after the new acquisition, spreading the immunity to the rest of the Team. Apparently, it also granted that Team immunity from recurrences of the Bluebeard variant of DuoHalo for the foreseeable future, so they weren't trapped in an ever-escalating cycle of expansion.

Other than acquiring a new team member, however, there was no known solution for the Conquistador Effect. That was a problem, when there were fewer and fewer unTeamed people in Spain, especially when the push to get adoption of the Quaranteam serum from the Americans and the Gemivax serum from the Brits had been delivered with enough volume to take care of every living Spainard before the end of March. Thankfully, it seemed like the Bluebeard variant had been reasonably contained to a handful of pockets, mostly in Europe. Less thankfully, there were signs that the Bluebeard variant was manmade, and that it could be deployed elsewhere.

"Mira a quién tenemos aquí." (Look at who we have here).

Sofia glanced up and let a soft sigh escape her lips as she shook her head, seeing a familiar face approaching on the street. "La vache! Que fais-tu ici, Manon?" (The fuck! What are you doing here, Manon?) she said to the woman, as she moved to sit down in the chair across from hers at the little sidewalk table.

Capitaine Manon Fournier was an officer in the French Army whom Sofia had encountered more than a handful of times during her own service. The woman was in her early 30s, svelte, attractive and highly intelligent. Her brown hair was drawn back into a short ponytail, looped against the back of her head, and her soft blue eyes and welcoming smile were far more inviting than the woman normally was, although, to be fair, she was out of uniform, dressed in civvies, although they were certainly stylish and expensive looking. While Sofia had mostly been going for 'low profile,' it appeared that Captain Fournier preferred the 'shock and awe' approach and looked one step shy of a model or a movie star. "Mejor si seguimos en español. Tu acento es horrendo. Suenas como una ramera barata." (Please, let's stick to Spanish. Your French is atrocious. You sound like a back-alley hooker.)

Sofia waved a hand in the air appreciatively. "Por mi mejor. No has contestado mi pregunta." (Fine by me. You still haven't answered my question.)

"¿Qué pasa, no puede una tomarse unas vacaciones en un lugar pintoresco?" (What's the deal, can't a girl go on holiday somewhere nice?) Manon offered a wry smile, gesturing for the café owner to come over. "Pot posar-me un cafè?" (Can I have a coffee?)

The owner, an older pudgy man in his late fifties who looked as though he'd been within twenty miles of this spot his entire life, smiled, clearly delighted to hear his own language. "Encantat, senyoreta." (Of course, miss.)

"I unes llesques de pa amb tomàquet i pernil per a la meva compaña. Està massa prima, no creu?" (And also bring some toast with tomato and ham for my friend. She's looking too skinny these days, don't you think?)

"Tant vostè com ella sou precioses, però com vulgueu." (You both seem quite beautiful to me, miss, but as you wish.) The owner turned and walked back inside of his café to prepare the order.

"Te he pedido un aperitivo. Pareces famélica, coronel." (I ordered you a light snack. You're looking a little peckish, Colonel.)

Sofia sighed, shaking her head with a slightly bitter laugh. "No me hagas tener que preguntar por tercera vez, capitana. Me caes bien, pero no tán bien. No tientes a la suerte. No cuentes con mi compasión estos días, me queda bien poca." (Don't make me ask a third time, Capitaine. I like you, but not that much. You don't want to push your luck versus my compassion. I have very little of it these days.)

Manon shrugged a little, pushing a chocolate strand of her hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail back over her ear as she leaned forward over the table, lowering her voice ever so marginally. "Imagino que mis razones para estar aquí son las mismas que las tuyas. ¿Cuánto hace de tu exposición a Barbazul?" (I expect my reasons for being here are much the same as yours. How long ago were you exposed to Bluebeard?)

The Spanish woman sighed again, nodding a bit reluctantly. "Bingo. Cinco días. ¿Y tú?" (Bullseye. Five days ago. Yourself?)

"Cuatro días. ¿Qué tal la cabeza?" (Four days ago. How's your head?) Manon asked her, while looking into her eyes.

Sofia ran her fingers through her bob-length blonde hair. "De momento todavía puedo pensar con claridad, pero noto como me va subiendo la tensión." (Mostly I can think clearly enough, although I'm starting to feel the pressure build up.) She looked up and Manon nodded with understanding. "Probablemente no aún hayas empezado a notar la compulsión apretándote las tuercas, pero comenzará pronto. Para mí, empezó esta mañana. Una voz robótica en mi cabeza, azuzandome como un negrero 'Consigue. Conquista. Captura. Toma. Expande'. Me quedan probablemente tres o cuatro días antes de que pierda el control, y eso es un problema gordo para mi y para mi Equipo, ya que es jodido encontrar parejas que no estén tomadas en España, y mucho menos aquellas a las que admitiría permanentemente en mi equipo." (You probably haven't started to feel the compulsion pushing hard at your brain yet, but you will soon enough. That started for me this morning. Like a robotic voice in the back of my head, demanding like some ancient slaver, 'Acquire. Conquer. Capture. Take. Expand.' I probably have only another three or four days before I lose control, and that is quite problematic for me and my Team, seeing as unpaired partners in Spain aren't all that common these days, much less those I would like to permanently have within my Team.)

"Estamos igual en Francia. El brote de Barbazul únicamente consiguió infectar a cuatro Equipos antes de que lo contuviéramos, y, como imaginarás, a mi Equipo le tocó la china. La mayoría de mis compañeros están esperándome en casa, a la espera de aparezca alguien compatible y relativamente cerca para llamarme y hacerme volver, pero no me convencen las probabilidades, lo que me trajo aquí" (We have much the same problem in France. The Bluebeard outbreak only managed to affect four Teams before it was contained, and wouldn't you know it, my Team drew the short straw. Many of my partners are waiting back at home, ready to recall me on a moment's notice if we should have someone who's a good match and relatively nearby spring up, but I didn't like our odds, which brought me here.)

"Me suena." (That rings a bell.) Sofia said, as the café owner returned, placing a slice of toast with some tomato and ham atop it down in front of her at the same time he set an espresso cup on a saucer in front of Manon. "Gràcies." (Thank you, mister.)

"Moltíssimes gràcies." (Thank you very much, sir.) Manon clicked her tongue judgmentally at Sofia's piss-poor Catalan. "Nunca se te dieron bien los idiomas, Sofia." (You never were much good at languages, Sofia.)

"Me apaño." (I do well enough to get by.) Sofia took a sip from her coffee, considering the croissant for a moment before picking it up and biting into it. "Pues, aunque asumo que las dos estamos aquí en busca de lo mismo, tengo la esperanza de que no vamos a por el mismo objetivo. Sería... extremadamente incómodo." (So, while I'm going to assume we're both here with the same goal in mind, I'm hoping we don't share the same target. That would be... extremely awkward.)

"Es poco probable. Mi objetivo es María Marxuach Barber. Banquera, sin familiares, cuarentona, de buen ver, inteligente y capaz. Las pruebas de Delfi le dieron una compatibilidad de 94% con mi Equipo." (Seems unlikely. I'm after Maria Marxuach Barber. She's a banker, no living family, early 40s. Good looking, intelligent, capable. Test results for Delphi came across as a 94% match for our Team.)

Sofia let out a deep sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding in. "¡Gracias a dios! No, nosotros vamos a por Cristina Da Silva, doctora residente del Hotel de L'Isard. Nuestro equipo carece de un especialista médico, y el programa Oracle de los estadounidenses le da una compatibilidad del 88%." (Oh, thank Christ for that. No, we're after Cristina Da Silva, on-site doctor for Hotel de I'Isard. Our team doesn't have a medical professional, and she tested in at 88% for our Team via the Americans Oracle program.)

Manon tilted her head to one side. "Me sorprende que estén evaluando a la gente de Andorra con ambos sistemas." (I'm surprised they're running the people of Andorra against both screening systems.)

"Los dos están basados en el mismo algoritmo base, así que no me sorprende. Además, tanto los estadounidenses como los británicos van a estar haciendo trata de blancas por aquí, así que los dos necesitan resultados con los que trabajar. ¿Que versión del suero te dieron?" (The two are based on the same core fundamental algorithm, so it's not too surprising. Besides, both the Americans and the Brits are going to be trafficking people in and out of here, so they both needed results they could work with. Which version of the serum were you given?)

The Frenchwoman giggled a little. "El estadounidense, por suerte. ¿Y a tí?" (The American version, thankfully. You?)

Sofia chuckled in response, as they both knew why they were talking about versions of the serum like they were ice cream flavors - not all versions were the same, and the French were still holding on to preconceived notions about Germany, so while Spain was happy to take any version they could get their hands on, the French had been more particular. "El alemán, aunque podría haber conseguido el suero estadounidense o el Gemivax de los británicos, aunque dicen que el Gemivax te baja las inhibiciones sexuales." (The German version, although I could've gotten either the American version or the Brits' Gemivax, although I've heard rumors about Gemivax having a generalized effect of lowering sexual inhibitions.)

"A mi también me han llegado esos rumores. Te doy el pésame, cuando imagino el infierno que va a ser Ibiza. Los británicos ya van calientes de normal cuando vienen de vacaciones, y si su suero los desboca más... Puede que sea esa la razón por la que aquí en Andorra se lo están tomando tan despacio. Quieren acumular todo el suero estadounidense que puedan. Imagino que los andorranos se sorprendieron cuando se les dijo que no tienen suficientes mujeres para garantizar la seguridad de sus hombres. Los detalles del suero Quaranteam son asombrosos y difíciles de creer cuando te los cuentan por primera vez." (I've heard those tales as well. I feel sorry for you, imagining what a hellscape Ibiza will be like. The Brits were already randy enough when they were on holiday without their version of the serum loosening them up further. That may be why they're holding on so long here in Andorra. They're trying to get as much of the American version of the serum as they can. I imagine the Andorrans were a little surprised when they were told they didn't have enough women to keep their men safe. The particulars of the Quaranteam serum seem quite fantastic and almost unbelievable when you first hear about them.)

Sofia nodded. "Parecía que al principio sencillamente querían cerrar fronteras y capear el temporal, pero después de que el mundo viese lo que pasó en Nueva Zelanda, bueno, nadie quiere que pase lo mismo aquí, y se pusieron a planificar.

" (It seemed like they simply wanted to close off their borders and weather out the storm at first, but after the world witnessed what happened in New Zealand, well, nobody wanted that to happen here, and a plan was put into place.)

Manon's face darkened a little bit, sighing somberly. "Si, una carnicería desenfrenada de esa magnitud es le hace replantearse las cosas a cualquiera" (Yes, well, that level of unfettered carnage is enough to give anyone second thoughts.) She looked up with a slight smile, cocking her head to one side. "¿Te das cuenta de que lo que estamos haciendo no es exactamente 'legal' verdad?" (You realize what we're doing isn't what one would call 'legal,' don't you?)

Sofia sniffed dismissively, looking away at the street for a moment. "Si alguna vez me toca decidir entre sobrevivir y que otro sobreviva, manda flores. las mujeres son un recurso mucho más abundante que los hombres, por desgracia, así que, ¿qué pasa si desaparecen algunas mujeres más? Además De Silva es española, es básicamente una repatriación. No voy a dejar que mi Equipo se derrumbe y la palme porque un jodido búrrocrata pusilánime no quiere romper unos cuantos huevos para hacer una tortilla." (If it ever comes down to a choice between you and someone else living, send flowers. Women are much less of a resource than men, sadly, so what's a few more women missing? Besides, De Silva's originally from Spain anyway, so we're simply repatriating her. I'm not allowing my Team to collapse and die because some damn wimpy bureaucrats aren't willing to make the hard choices.)

"¿Te ofrecieron la redirección? ¿O ya lo sabían?" (Did they offer you the redirect, at least? Or did they already know?)

Sofia looked over quizzically at the other woman. "¿Sabian qué?" (Already know what?)

Manon let out another sigh, taking a sip from her espresso before she spoke again. "Debían de estar enterados y no te lo contaron, de lo contrario lo habrían intentado contigo. Inmediatamente después de que el brote Barbazul fue detectado, intentamos utilizar lo que los americanos llaman el Viraje de Sergei, redirigiendo una pareja de un equipo a otro, con la esperanza de que así satisfaríamos los cambios que el Barbazul inflige a los nanobots, pero por desgracia, no funciona. Compartimos los detalles con los americanos que nos ofrecieron dos docenas de lo que llaman mujeres del 'Proyecto: Última Salida' a cambio de una muestra contenida del Barbazul. El gobierno francés dijo que no, obviamente. No queríamos quedarnos con una muestra para nosotros, mucho menos dársela a los malditos estadounidenses." (They must have already known and not told you, otherwise I imagine they would've attempted it with you. Immediately after the Bluebeard variant was detected, we attempted to use what the Americans are called the Sergei Swerve, trying to redirect a partner from one Team to another, in hopes that it would satisfy whatever the changes the Bluebeard variant made to the nanobots, but alas, it had no effect. We shared our findings with the Americans, who offered two dozen of what they call their "Project: Last Exit" women in exchange for a contained sample of the Bluebeard variant. The French government declined, naturally. We weren't even interested in keeping a sample for ourselves, much less giving it to the bloody Americans.)

The Spanish woman nodded in response. "No se me ocurrió probar a hacer un viraje para ver si daba algún alivio, así que los matasanos de nuestra unidad científica ya habrían hablado con los estadounidenses o ya lo habrían probado con algún otro Equipo. Nadie me dijo nada. Me dijeron que sencillamente querían que "aguantásemos"" (It hadn't occurred to me to try the redirect to see if it would provide relief, so the eggheads in our science division must have already spoken to the Americans as well or tried it for themselves on one of the other Teams. Nobody on our end mentioned it to me. They simply wanted us to 'hold fast.')

"A nosotras nos dieron directivas similares." (We were given similar directives.) Manon smiled slightly ruefully. "A lo que las dos hicimos caso omiso. ¿Cuántos miembros de tu Equipo están aquí? (Which it looks like we both ignored. How many of your Team are here?)

"Cinco. Han llegado poco a poco durante el último día. ¿Vosotros?" (Five. Staggered in over the last day. You?)

"Solo tres, pero deberían ser suficientes para tenerlo todo listo" (Just three, but it should be enough to get the job done.)

Sofia nodded, admiring the Frenchwoman's confidence that she would be able to complete the task with such a small number of crew. "¿No te preocupa cómo cruzar la frontera?" (You aren't worried about getting across the border?)

Manon smiled, finishing off her espresso. "Te cuento mi plan si tu me cuentas el tuyo. Las dos estamos intentando lograr el mismo objetivo, ¿qué es lo peor que puede pasar?" (I'll tell you my plan if you'll tell me yours. We're both trying to achieve the same thing, so what's the harm?)

Sofia shrugged with a slight smile. "Si empiezas tú, estoy de acuerdo. ¿Cómo lo vais a hacer?" (If you go first, then I can abide by that. How are you going to do it?)

"Cruzaremos con un globo aerostático con un par de hélices. Iremos de noche, para que no se nos vea, pero nadie espera nada parecido, así que para cuando se den cuenta de lo que pasa, estaremos a buen recaudo. Tu turno." (Crossing via a hot air balloon with a couple of propellers attached to it. We'll go at night, so we won't be seen, but they aren't expecting anything like that, so by the time anyone figures it out, we'll be long gone. Your turn.)

"Uno de nuestros coches tiene un compartimento escondido donde poner el cuerpo inconsciente de la mujer. Si no es un camión o furgoneta, es poco probable que hagan un examen a fondo. No espero que haya problemas." (One of the cars has a hidden compartment to put the woman's unconscious body into. They aren't doing hard searches of vehicles going in and out, unless you're in a truck, so I anticipate we'll be fine.)

Manon giggled a little. "Y si deciden buscar en vuestro vehículo? Entonces que?" (And if they say they want to search the vehicle? What will you do then?)

Again, the Spanish woman could offer only a mild shrug. "Pisar el acelerador, embestir la barrera, y esperar que para cuando empiecen a disparar, estemos tan lejos que no nos den ni a mi ni a la "mercancía". Nuestro lado nos dejará pasar sin problemas. Son sólo los malditos andorranos lo que me preocupa. No espero repercusiones. Saben perfectamente cuán precaria es su existencia hasta que los yanquis o los gringos los tengan a todos inoculados. No vale la pena montar un revuelo internacional por un par de mujeres desaparecidas. Es Perez francesa?" (Hit the gas, ram the the gate and hope I'm clear far enough that if they decide to take a shot at me, they miss both me and my "cargo". But our side will let me through without any concern. It's just the bloody Andorrans I have to worry about. I don't expect them to put up much of an issue, though. They know exactly how precarious their existence is until they're serumed up by the Yanks and Brits. A couple of women going missing isn't worth kicking up an international ruckus over. Is Perez originally from France?)

The Frenchwoman shook her head. "No, no. Esto es un secuestro en toda regla, pero su compatibilidad con el resto de los andorranos es pésima. Lo máximo a lo que llega aquí es un 57%, así que no me extraña que esté soltera toda la vida. Si te paras a pensar, le estamos haciendo un favor." (No no, we're quite clearly kidnapping her, but her scores against her fellow Andorrans came up quite poor. The highest match the poor girl had here was a 57%, so it's no wonder she's been single her whole life. If you think about it, we're doing her a favor.)

"No creo que el gobierno de Andorra esté de acuerdo." (I doubt the Andorran government will see it that way.)

"Mi barrio en Toulouse tiene alrededor de la misma población que este país de mierda." (My neighborhood in Toulouse has about the same number of people as this whole damn country,) Manon said, a slightly sinister smile upon her lips. "Debería preocuparme que asalten mi dormitorio?" (Should I expect them to invade my bedroom in retaliation?)

"Sería gracioso verles intentarlo." (It would be funny to see them try.)

Manon's eyes closed for a moment, her face looking strained as she tipped her head down, placing one of her hands against her temple, forcing herself to draw in a deep breath before slowly exhaling it. "Ya veo que es lo que dices acerca de oir una voz en tu cabeza, presionandote. Es bastante... garrula, ¿verdad? ¿Este pequeño protector robótico que vive en nuestra sangre?" (I see what you mean by hearing a pressuring voice in your head. I believe I just felt my first compulsion. It's quite... brutish, isn't it, this little robotic protector living inside of our bloodstreams?)

"Quiere lo que quiere, y no es fácil discutirle nada. ¿Le habías oído alguna vez?" (It wants what it wants, and it's not exactly easy to argue with. Have you heard it before?) The Frenchwoman once again shook her head no, and then looked at Sofia expectantly. "Yo tampoco, pero han habido informes puntuales de gente a la que le hablan los nanobots desde que los introdujimos. Los estadounidenses no dicen ni mu, pero estoy convencido que lo que no nos dicen los americanos sobre el suero llenaría estadios de fútbol." (Nor I, but there have been scattered reports of people being spoken to by the nanobots since we introduced it. The Americans haven't said a word about such things to us, but I'm convinced what the Americans aren't telling us about this serum could fill futbol stadiums on its own.)

Manon nodded in agreement, reaching into her pocket to pull out a handful of Euros, tossing them onto the table, tucking them beneath the saucer for her empty espresso cup, so the wind wouldn't carry the bills away. Sofia could see the woman had left enough of a tip to be appreciative of the service, but not so much that she was seen as flashing her wealth around. "Te desearía buena suerte, pero se que odias que el azar tenga parte alguna en nuestro trabajo." (I would wish you good fortune, but I know you dislike the notion that luck features at all in our work.)

Sofia smiled, as if she was glad that if there had been only one thing Manon had remembered about it, it had been that. "Recuerdas bien. Yo en cambio recuerdo que tu si que crees en esas cosas. así que te deseo buena suerte." (Well remembered. But as I recall you do believe in such things, so you have my blessings of luck and good fortune.)

The Frenchwoman offered a little bow of admiration and started walking down the basically deserted avenue as Sofia watched her go. The Colonel wondered who the hell would've developed the Bluebeard variant of DuoHalo, and what its intended use was, other than perhaps a Team killer. It wasn't easy to catch, it was volumes harder to spread, and, assuming there were still unTeamed women out in the world, extremely easy to solve for. Perhaps that was what this was for? A weapon in the post-Teamed society? It would certainly violate several portions of the Geneva Convention, but that hadn't stopped people in the past.

Her phone rang, so she picked it up from the table, seeing it was another member of her team, Lucia. "¿Sí? ¿Lucia? ¿Está todo en posición?" (Yes Lucia? Everything in place?)

"Todo está en regla, preveo que la doctora saldrá a dar su paseo vespertino habitual durante la próxima hora. Típicamente cena sola en su apartamento, con lo que su ausencia pasará desapercibida hasta mañana. Si hemos cruzado la frontera por aquel entonces, estaremos a buen recaudo. Sin embargo, creo que ví un par de soldados franceses de paisano cerca del hotel." (Everything's in order, and I expect the doctor to go out for her usual evening walk sometime within the next hour or so. She typically eats dinner alone in her apartment, so her absence won't be noticed until sometime tomorrow. As long as we're back across the border by then, everything should be fine. Although I should say, I think I saw a couple of out-of-uniform French soldiers near the Hotel.)

Sofia chuckled a little bit. "No te preocupes por ellos. Navíos cruzándose en la oscuridad. Están haciendo lo mismo que nosotros, pero con un objetivo distinto y un plan de escape diferente." (Don't worry about them. Ships passing in the night. They're doing the same thing we are, just with a different target and a different exit strategy.)

Lucia had a good laugh at the other end of the line. "Mejor o peor que el nuestro?" (Is their way out better than ours?)

"Ni mejor ni peor. Distinto. Me topé con su jefe de equipo. Es alguien con quien he trabajado en el pasado, ejercicios conjuntos y demás. No serán un problema." (Not necessarily better nor worse, just a different approach. I ran into their team leader. She's someone I've worked with in the past, collaborative defense exercises and whatnot. Won't be a problem.)

"¿Y no estará tomando su objetivo demasiado públicamente? Porque si arman jaleo..." (And she's not taking her target too publicly? Because if they make a racket...)

Sofia had to force herself not to sound annoyed, even if the question was rather stupid. "Porque coño tendrían que atrapar a su objetivo públicamente? Únicamente conseguirían complicarse el cruce fronterizo." (Why the hell would they take their target publicly? It would only make it harder for them to get across the border.)

"¿Estamos seguros que Arturo no se cabreará con nosotras debido a esto?" (And we're sure Arturo's not going to be angry with us over doing this?)

"Oh, imagino que estará un poco cabreado, pero se le pasará pronto. Después de todo, Cristina y Arturo fueron novios de pequeños hasta que ella fue a la facultad de medicina. Ella rompió con él y él conoció a Estrella en la universidad." (Oh, I imagine he'll be a little angry, but it will pass soon enough. After all, Cristina and Arturo were childhood sweethearts before she went off to medical school. She called the relationship off and he met Estrella at university.)

"De acuerdo. Parece que el objetivo está moviendo el culo, así que mejor que empieces a mover el tuyo para aquí." (Alright, it looks like she's on the move, so you'd better start heading over here.)

"Voy de camino." (On my way, ladies.) Sofia put her own tip on the table, more generous than Manon's certainly, tucking it under the plate the croissant she'd quickly housed had been on, as she stood up and adjusted her clothing.

Within twenty-four hours, either they would be back at home with Arturo, having brought him Cristina, gotten her imprinting on him, and then having used him to purge their own bodies of the defect caused by the Bluebeard DuoHalo variant, or they'd all be locked up in an Andorran prison cell, and by the time anyone did anything, they'd all likely have gone mad and died.

Nothing like life and death stakes to clear the mind.

She started walking towards the rendezvous point, muttering beneath her breath in English, singing a song she'd heard long ago.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me..."

ACQUIRE.

ACQUIRE.

ACQUIRE.

(Special thanks to OtterlyMindblowing for putting me in contact with Vyrlokar, and MASSIVE thanks to Vyrlokar for not only providing me with the translations of all the Spanish, as well as the brief bits of French and Catalan, but also making sure I got my geography, politics, food, culture and tone correct. Never underestimate the strength of someone being familiar with a region to help you get everything depicted as close to accurate as you can get. Vyrlokar's help was crucial in making this chapter come to life the way that it did.)