Paris, France (The Meurice Hotel)

Trinity came to a screeching halt underneath the hotel’s overhang. The startled doormen stared at her with a mixture of horror and disgust as she dismounted and tossed the keys to one of them. As usual, her black leather pants were more than skin-tight and her sleeveless leather vest was barely adequate. "Keep it warm for me," she said and strolled into the lobby like she owned it.

As a matter of fact, she did own it, and several others. The manager of the hotel rushed up to greet her when she crossed the threshold and she removed her helmet and shook out her hair. "Here, take this."

He accepted the proffered helmet, passing it off to his assistant. "Welcome back, Miss Palmieri. Shall you be staying long?"

"Not very. I’ve got errands to run. Everything’s going smoothly?"

"Of course, ma’am. We are nearly at full capacity and Miss Wilde, herself, just left not five hours ago."

Trinity smiled at some private joke. "I hope you treated her well."

"We did, and she was most…generous because of it."

"Great. Keep up the good work." Her heels clip/clopped on the marble floor and several heads turned to track her progress toward the elevator (and several wives punched their husbands).

The hotel manager sighed. "She’s one in a million."

"That she is," his assistant said with a sigh of his own.

Trinity took the express elevator straight up to the penthouse and was greeted at the top by a short, dark-haired man dressed in silk loungewear. In the background, several people were busy at work either on the phone, tending drinks or pouring over diagrams. "Hello, madam." He handed Trinity a CD case.

"Hello yourself. Did I catch you sleeping?" She walked into the penthouse and a servant appeared by her side, thrusting a drink into her hands without a word.

"Not at all, and not like I could with all this activity going on." He followed her to a couch where they both settled down. "Before you ask, everything is on schedule. Ahead of it, actually."

"Just what I like to hear. Are these the plans?" she asked, tossing the CD onto the table. She took a healthy gulp from the glass and smacked her lips in satisfaction.

"They are, and completely compatible with your GPS program. I’ll be sending an update soon. The safe zone is highlighted in red; unfortunately, I could only get it up to a six foot by six foot area, and that’s actually pushing it."

"Shouldn’t be a problem. I know you can take it, and I’m sure they can too."

His eyebrows raised in curiosity. "You seem awfully sure for someone who won’t be in their, excuse me, our position."

"‘Nox says you can take it; I believe him."

He shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, but your employer has the habit of letting others do his dirty work for him."

"Pot, this is kettle, over." Her eyes flashed in anger and he returned the look steadily before finally bursting out into laughter.

"Okay, you make an excellent point. Not in this particular case, but it has been true in the past."

"Where is your buddy, anyway?"

"He’s out, working to make sure things go smoothly. What are you up to?"

"I’ve got to go drop off some information to the Ward and then meet Mute in Spain. After that, it’s back to the safe house. Once we get done there, we’re on, or so ‘Nox tells me."

"Good. It’s nice to know things are running smoothly."

"Did you have anything to report to ‘Nox?"

"I’ve been keeping an eye out on our targets and things seem to be normal. However, there’s not much room for delay. They’re starting to figure out that something went wrong with the Russians and I expect they’ll want to move on it once our machinations start becoming apparent." He sighed. "Equinox is doing a good job of covering you guys but his bait-and-switch maneuvers are only going to take him so far."

"I will make sure to bring it to his attention."

She rose to her feet. "I guess I’d better be off. No rest for the wicked and all that."

"Be safe." He bowed regally and walked her to the door. After it closed, he turned to face one of the corners and spoke to seemingly empty air. "You may also tell your employer things are going well."

One of the servants glanced at him but shrugged. It wouldn’t be the first time Whispering Knife acted strangely, and probably wouldn’t be the last.