La Résistance

The distinctive scent of Havana cigar smoke wafted gently down wind.

“Should hyou stub out that butt, hija de la noche? Thee smell could geeve away ourrr position,” said Generalissimo Consuella Starcluster in a hushed voice.

“I was hoping to attract someone hostile, I could really do with a bit of action. I’m getting stiff here, and cold,” whispered August King.

“Shshsh,” from Kiki la Berserker responding to a distant rustling in the undergrowth. They all held their breath as the sounds of a patrol creeping through the bushes grew louder. The rustling stopped and half a dozen heads popped up cautiously at the edge of a clearing. Nestling in the centre of the open space a Mil-Tec 4-person pyramid tent glowed warmly from a lamp within. An officer in a MICH-2000 helmet with UCP cover raised a clenched fist and with a combination of twirls and finger twiddles issued silent commands to his unit. The rustling began again. Bushes twitched and there were a few muffled grunts.

“Can anyone see what’s going on?” asked Consuella.

“I think they’ve got our tent surrounded,” replied Kiki, “They’re not the usual superheroes. This lot look professional.”

There came a wild cry as soldiers in full combat kit broke cover from all around the clearing. They rushed the tent and with a resounding “Hooyah!” pounced, squashing it flat. Then the earth swallowed them up.

“It worked! The pitfall worked!” Kiki leapt up and down with glee. “Mrs King, miss, chuck in a stink bomb.”

Augusta, clad in black hacking jacket and jodhpurs, Apache moccasins and a charcoal-grey woolly hat, her Ke-Tri sheathed across her back, emerged from behind the gnarled trunk of an oak. She detached a stink grenade from her belt, pulled the pin and lobbed it. It flew majestically over the pit, hit a silver birch on the far side of the clearing and dropped harmlessly into the undergrowth.

“Sorry. My depth perception’s non existent with only the one eye.”

“What happened to your eye, miss?” asked Kiki excitedly.

“Lost it in the Second Opium War.”

“Ooh! Battling Pearl River Pirates?”

“No, playing Tiddlywinks with some street urchins in Canton. One smelly little beggar tiddled his wink straight into my face.”

Less off thee chatterrr hyou two.” Consuella strode over to the deep pit and extracted the safety pins from two grenades with her teeth. There came squeals, howls and pleadings for mercy as she tossed the maloderants into the hole. The Generalissimo turned and walked away.

“Those aren’t Fluffy’s troops, they looked like Special Forces,” said Augusta when Consuella had returned to the group, “there’s something bigger going on.”

“Hhindeed. Leave them in thee hole forrr tonight. We weel enterrrogate them in thee morrrning.”