TFM Chapter 1:

“Task Force Moebius” Opening act

Special Note: The significance of the use of “adieu” rather than “au revoir,” is simple. Adieu is translated as “Until we meet with God“. It means that there is no intention of seeing that person again in their lifetime.

(At a vineyard 20 miles west from Nice, France)

The moon still lit the sky as the young man snuck about. He had been very careful not to tip off his sister as to his intentions. He had narrowed down what he needed to the essentials. Trail rations , clothing, and something extra for self-defense. He opened an oak box in his room carefully. The old MAS M50 within it shone in the moonlight.

Ma Mere’s old service pistol. I wonder how she would react if she saw me with it now? He carefully loaded the clip, inserted it, and stowed the now-loaded firearm in his backpack. He feared that he would need it. Eva is going to have a fit. Well, in any event, there isn’t anything she can do about it. He made sure his supplies were ready.

The work at the vineyards paid well enough that he had little difficulty in saving up the money he needed to go on this trip.

His vehicle of choice was already set. An old US Army-Green Harley-Davidson WLA, or “The Liberator,” as it was commonly known in his region. Mon grand-pere gave this to me to fix. It is my first motorcycle, and still my vehicle of choice. I will have to walk it down before I start it, so I don’t tip anyone off. The young man couldn’t help but smile to himself. If he weren’t so concerned for his sister waking up to find him gone, he’d laugh.

And to think, I don’t even know where I am going, or how to get there! But, eh bien, it is all I have left. He made sure his backpack was carefully secured in the sidecar of his motorcycle.

Adieu, ma soeur.

Once he was out of earshot, he started the motorcycle, listening as the engine’s roar reverberated through the surrounding valley. He put on his helmet, and rode off in the night. His destination was Nice, 20 miles to the east. He would figure out what to do from there.

~~~

(next morning, in Nice, France, as the sun is just rising)

Samantha L’Renne sighed in defeat. She was more than a little upset that she had chosen the wrong place to meet Josephine and Mikera. They had gone north to Saint-Jouin-Burneval, and without a vehicle, it would be days before she could meet with them!

“Damnit, Mikera! I thought we were meeting in Nice! We don‘t have time for this!”

“Sam, did you even check your email before you left? We needed a meeting place with a lower profile, so our meeting place was changed at the last minute. We’re already at Saint-Jouin-Burneval. Maybe you should listen next time, Sam!”

“Oh sure, Mikera, blame the person whose computer died en route. Yes, I have it with me. The battery is toast, though. I barely managed to save the computer. Yes, I am aware this is the fourth time in as many months. How was I supposed to know the battery was overheating when I was thawing it near the campfire?” She stopped mid-sentence when she saw a motorcycle with a sidecar mounted in it. The bike itself was well-aged, but she didn’t expect to see a rider emerge.

He was a blue fox, about six feet in height. She couldn’t tell much more about him, except that he was a local, and that he was the owner of the bike. He looks awful young to be riding a bike like that. Maybe, just maybe…

“I may have a ride, Mikera. I will get to Saint-Jouin-Burneval as fast as I possibly can. Tell Jo not to worry!” She then went over to the young man as he took some supplies to his bike. “Ummm…pardon?” The blue fox turned around. A very attractive snow leopard femme stood in front of him, her disheveled look telling him she needed help. The phrase book she had in her hands and her look told him she wasn’t local.

“Oui, mademoiselle?”

“Ummm…” she looked through the phrase book. “Je me appelle Samantha L’Renne. Parlez-Vooz englaise?” Drake winced. “I speak English tres bien, mademoiselle, but you may not want to try French again anytime soon.” Samantha’s ears pinned back at that. “I butchered it?”

“Mais Oui, mademoiselle, mais te ne bile pas.”

“Te ne bile pas?”

“It means ‘Don’t sweat it.’ What can I do for you?” Samantha sighed. “Well, I need a lift. I am going to Saint-Jouin-Burneval.” Drake paused. Well, I already left Eva behind, and I happen to know that area. I may as well help SOMEONE out. I figure she is probably someone‘s girlfriend. “Oui, I know where that is. I was born there. It is near Normandy beach. You are a long way south from your destination, mademoiselle.”

“I know. I got off the train, and the friends I thought were waiting for me weren’t here. And I don’t want to ride the train again. Can you please give me a ride?” Drake thought about it for only a second. “Of course, mademoiselle. I can get you there tres vite.”

“You are going to help me, just like that? Don’t you have a destination in mind?” Drake smiled and shook his head. “Non, mademoiselle, I have no destination. It is a long story, that I can tell later when we get there, if you wish.” Samantha paused. “Okay, I guess. I can ride with you. There aren‘t any catches, are there?”

“Mais non, mademoiselle. As I have said, I have no destination in mind. Besides, it is my place of birth. It will be good to be back there. Do you have a cell phone?” Samantha nodded. “Yeah, I do. I will call my friends and let them know I will be there soon. Thank you, Mr…”

“Drake. Drake Galliard LaGeurre. Sorry for not introducing myself sooner.”

“Good to meet you, Drake.” Drake began to reset his pack, strapping it behind his seat to make room for his passenger and her suitcase. He did find it odd that she would pack so lightly. Maybe her friends have the rest of her luggage.

He didn’t notice that they were being watched…

~~~~

(Across the street)

“We have located our target. Target is across the street from us, and is riding a green Liberator.” A purr on the other end could be heard, despite the voice scrambling software used to keep its voice secret. “You know what to do.”

Samantha heard the click of a firearm. “Uh-oh…”

“Uh-oh?”

“Drake, we gotta move. Now! Those were a pair of Russian PMM Makarovs, with silencers!” She pushed him to the ground with her right as the gunshots went off. One of the bullets grazed an outer pocket of his backpack, dropping a firearm to the ground. Sam knew what it was. An MAS M50, old police issue judging by the color of it. It will have to do! Damn, how did they find me here? Samantha grabbed the M50, and wasted no time returning fire. Drake watched in disbelief as she quickly dropped the two men, only for more to start coming out. She took one of the Makarovs, and put the M50 away.

“Drake, we need to go.”

“No need to tell me twice!”

Two more cars began to pull up as Drake got on his bike. Samantha leapt onto the sidecar, and Drake gunned the engine. At first, he thought the cars might be gendarmes, but that changed when they were shot at once more, one bullet grazing his jacket. He rode off as soon as Samantha was secured. Samantha got on the phone. “Mikera, alert the Gendarmes, shots fired! Firearms used were PMM Makarovs! I am going to be a little late.”

~~~

(Saint-Jouin-Burneval, France)

Mikera D’Williams overheard the shots as Samantha spoke to her. “Josephine…?”

“The French police are being awfully slow to mobilize. Do you think the Bloodies are behind it?” A slender cougar femme was pensive in thought before she sighed. “No doubt about it. I should have known that they’d keep the law enforcement from helping. Home in on her signal. We‘ll have to come to her.”

“Them.” Mikera corrected her. “A man giving her a lift got caught in the middle and is driving that bike.”

“Until we get to her, Sam’s life is in his hands. Find out the exact location of her cell phone. We leave as soon as possible to extract them.”

~~~

(Down a back road away from Nice)

Drake pushed the bike as hard as it would go, keeping his eyes on the road even as Sam was keeping their would-be assailants at bay. Sam understood why he chose the back roads. The main roads would be clogged with commuters at this hour. At least this way, there was less chance of someone getting killed. Drake cursed under his breath. “Ou-est les gendarmes?! Why haven’t they come yet?”

“I don’t think they are, Drake. I think it is up to us.”

“Who are they, Samantha, and how did you know they were-?”

“Can it wait until we get out alive?!” Samantha put the exclamation point by means of putting a bullet in one of the tires, blowing it out, and causing the car to spin out, taking out another pursuer who was too close to it. “How do you plan to shake them off, Drake?!”

Drake had to think fast before the answer hit him. “Get on my backpack. Use it as a second seat, and then start detaching the sidecar. Do that, and we can lose them off-road.” Samantha nodded, first opening her suitcase to retrieve a couple of items Drake couldn’t identify, before sending the rest to the wind. She then got on the backpack as per Drake’s request, undoing the bolts that kept the sidecar attached, before kicking it away, watching with satisfaction as it took out a second vehicle.

Before she could get into a better position, she spotted one of the cars closing in on them. She wrapped her legs around Drake's chest, leaned back, and opened fire, watching the car slam into the railing before sliding across the median and into a ditch. She then flipped back forward, and wrapped her arms around Drake's chest.

Once Drake felt Samantha‘s arms holding tightly (and after blushing profusely when she did), he knew all was set. “Now, mademoiselle, hold on, and trust me.” Drake took a sharp turn on the shoulder, before pushing his bike over the ditch and into the fields. The would-be killers were unable to pursue them.

She was surprised by how smooth the ride was. He even made it look easy by how he went over the hill next to the ditch, and got into the forest before disappearing into the trees.

(In Kiev, Russia)

“YOU LOST YOUR TARGET?!”

“H-he had help! Some crazy lady was with him. Wore a Star of David on her!! Gunned down a half-dozen of us at least before she got away.”

“How did the Jew bitch and our target get away?”

“He off-roaded it, after the broad killed some of us. The gendarmes didn’t interfere, just like you said they wouldn’t. He was riding some old WW-II bike, but he still managed to get away.”

“The regional leader will be coming to France soon. It goes without saying he is not to be informed of this unfortunate episode.”

“Do you want us to go after his sister?”

“Non, mais non. She isn’t the one we want. Leave her to her ignorance. Or better yet, tip her off about her brother‘s whereabouts. We can follow her to him. Have a detail keep track of her. Dismissed.”

“By your will, and the will of the Blood Moon.”

~~~

(Midday, as Drake’s bike finally comes to a rest.)

Drake needed to rest. The events of what happened to him were still fresh in his mind, as they were in Samantha’s. “I am sorry, Drake. I didn’t realize you’d be targeted. That was some great driving.”

The blank look on Drake's face vanished, replaced with an expression of necessitated curiosity. “Qu’est-ce que ce?”

“Huh?”

“Who are you? What kind of tourist uses a firearm so easily, or even has one, given that they aren't legal in France?”

“I owe you the full truth, Drake. I am Samantha L’Renne, former Israeli soldier, now member of Task Force Moebius. I am one of only three people at this time who are members of this task force. Drake…” She realized her arms were still around him. “I won't lie, Drake. I am not sure it will be safe for you.”

“It never was, mademoiselle. Remember when I told you I had no destination in mind?”

“Yeah?”

“My sister and I had a falling out. She blamed me for my mother’s death and my father’s disappearance. It all happened just after I was born. The M50 that was in my backpack was my mother’s handgun from her days in the Gendarmes. She has been running the vineyard where I worked until this morning. I am not a supervisor, to be clear. I worked in the fields and as a mechanic on the various equipment. I have left in search of answers, mademoiselle, about what happened to my father.”

“Drake, first of all, no need to be so formal. ‘Sam’ is what I prefer to be called. And second, why not let us help you? That is, if Mikera and Jo are okay with it.”

“Mikera and Jo?”

“Aye, lad, Mikera D’Williams and Josephine Miranda Jules.”

Drake noticed Sam’s tail go straight when he heard the voices so close. Sam was just happy to see two people she knew wouldn’t shoot at them. “Jo, Mikera? HOW DID YOU FIND US?!”

Mikera grinned as she held up a small device about the size of her palm. “You left your cell phone on. Made it a lot easier to find you. I take it you are the guy who helped Sam?”

Drake took a moment to look at the two women. Mikera, the apparent techie, was the shortest of the three, a slender Cheshire-Calico, who stood about 5’6”. Her associate Josephine was a regal cougar who stood almost to his height, and seemed to be in charge of the group. But with each of them, he felt he could trust them. “It is a pleasure to meet both of you,” he answered, keeping eye contact as he did. “Je m’appelle Drake LaGuerre. I am sorry that we had to meet like this.”

Sam looked pensive, her mind going back to the shooting, even as Drake began to contemplate what to do now. Her mind had gone back to the shootout in Nice, and the trajectory of each bullet. All of those first bullets were shot at Drake. They only went after me when I shot back. Which may mean…

“Girls, I don’t think I was the target. I think they were after Drake.”

“Moi? Why would they be…?”

“We don’t know, Drake. Sam, are you absolutely sure?”

“They targeted Drake from the start, and only went after me when I shot back at them. Jo, why would the Bloodies target him?”

This caused Josephine to become pensive again. “Ach, he is a civilian. He should nae be involved in this mess!” Drake replied, “It is too late for that. I already am, for good or for ill. If I am to face this, then I can’t do it alone. I wish to join you. I wish to become a member of this Task Force Moebius, if you will have me.”

Mikera looked over the bike in curiosity. “We have been needing a local to show us around.“ She was surprised by the age of the bike. “Wow, you evaded them in this? Sam, you okay? You can‘t be feeling good after a trip like this.”

“I am a little sore from the ride, but other than that, I am okay..”

“You should be sore. This is a Harley-Davidson WLA, a WW-II motorbike that was mainly used in support roles. WLAs have NO rear suspension. But they were made to go on-road or off. And to think you both evaded them in this. I think he is a keeper, Jo.“ Drake added in, “And I can help with repairs too. But I can’t really build anything much. I can also cook too.”

Mikera nodded. “ OH GOOD. I keep having trouble with cooking without blowing up the stove.”

Drake’s ears pinned back at that remark. “She blew up the stove?“

“Aye, tis probably still in orbit somewhere. We’re not sure where it landed. It is why to this day, we never allow Mikera to do any sort of cookin‘.“ Josephine sighed. Drake paused when he heard the reply, “That happened just ONE time, Jo! How was I to know I overdid the feed on the natural gas?!”

“Ye‘re a demolitions expert and a tech expert. Ye should‘ve!”

“Tonight, I am doing the cooking,“ Drake resolved to himself.

Sam suddenly spoke up again. “Can we keep him, Jo? Pleeeaasssseee?”

Josephine sighed. He was not just the target, he was also the one who got himself and Sam t‘ safety. That warrants the benefit o‘ the doubt. “Okay, he can join us. But, he will have to learn some new things while we’re in Saint-Jouin-Burneval, and I will have to discuss it with someone. After we rest, we start trainin’ him on the beach and briefin‘ him on the Bloodies. Now let’s get out of here, before we encounter any more problems.”

End Chapter 1.