The Capture

The Key

Timothy followed Olive to her house. She invited him to enter and he accepted, partly because he was bored and partly because he was looking forward to seeing the cats.

He followed Olive up a few stairs and into a lovely entrance. It was light and there was a pretty carpet on the floor. A cat greeted them with a reproachful miaow. Olive bent down to pet it. "This is Tiggy - she is the cat I have been talking about. But she is very sweet, never mind her... uh, habits."
Timothy also bent down to pet her back and Tiggs seemed to enjoy this.

Olive had been moving on into the living room. Timothy remembered why he was here and quickly stopped petting the cat. He followed Olive into a light living room and was surprised by the cats hanging around everywhere. They were all over the fluffy carpet, miaowing and purring.

Olive made a warning noise and Timothy looked around just quick enough to see the cat in front of his feet before he stepped on her. He stared at her - how could a cat be so lazy? She met his glare with a glance of calm arrogance. Although she was obviously obese, she seemed to think of herself as the queen of this house. 'Go on, dare to step on me', she seemed to say. 'We'll see who will be in trouble.' For a few seconds, Timothy held her glare. Then he suddenly realised what he did and stepped over the cat. Maybe he only imagined it, but her miaowing sounded satisfied.

Olive smirked at him. "That is Sally. She always does that - I'm sorry."
Timothy muttered something about him not bothering about it and followed her to the kitchen, where Olive had already opened a drawer and started searching in it. With a triumphant smile, she pulled something out and presented it to him. "I knew I had it somewhere here." She held the key in her hand.
They went back outside (Sally had not moved an inch). Olive opened the door and they entered Florence's house.

Timothy had already been in her house, but he was always surprised by the calmness there. To him, Florence's door was like the tree at the beginning of Acorn street. He breathed in the very own smell of the house and felt peace coming over him.

Olive seemed immune to this effect. She turned around and looked at him expectantly. "So, what are we doing now?"
"We have a closer look at the rooms."

He crossed the living room, heading for the kitchen. Both rooms seemed to be as usual, the living room was clean and tidy and the kitchen was filled with tidy plates and glasses. Florence preferred being in her living room, she did not care too much about the kitchen, let alone the dishes. She perceived a lot through her eyes (out of the eyes = out of the mind. When dealing with many things, she was basically dependent on Perry to remind her about some things.) Usually, she did the dishes when she had time, that would be today. So she had not planned to go away. She did not care much about the dishes, but she saw the need when there was some.

He left the basement and went upstairs. The bathroom looked fine, nothing unusual there. Her room looked as if she had just left it and he could feel her so strongly, he almost expected her to stand behind him.
He went to the wardrobe. Ignoring Olive's exasperation at the sight of a man checking the wardrobe of a woman, he searched for a specific piece of clothing. He did not find it. It could be anywhere in the house, but he knew instinctively where it was. With her.

Timothy turned around and Olive stopped talking at the look in his eyes.
"I found what I have been looking for", he explained to her. "She probably wears the blouse we designed for her."
Olive frowned at him. "And with this I don't think you're talking about clothes designing?"
"No. This blouse has a special kind of tracking device vowing in its canvas. Very hard for foreigners to detect it. She wanted us to follow her."

Olive blinked while she tried to process this information. "So... She is not kidnapped?"
"On the contrary. She went deliberately with her kidnappers, knowing about their goals. I just wonder why. There are tons of guns hidden anywhere in this house and almost infinite possibilities to knock someone out. Even if someone had held a gun at her head, she would be able to use this house against him."

He turned around and left the room, Olive on his heels.
"But she did not have a gun at her head! She did not even look too concerned." Olive tried to recall the happenings. "That man was not even in the house! She could have shot him easily!"

Meanwhile, they had left the house. Olive locked the door again.
"So there are two possibilities", Timothy said. "Either there was someone in the house whom you could not see and who made sure she could not escape..."
"Or", Olive said thoughful, "She really went with her kidnappers." She looked at him, doubting her words. "But why should she?"
Timothy shrugged. "All of us are told not to do allow anyone to capture us if we can do something against it. And honestly, I could not imagine why anyone should do that. But it looks like that."

Olive kept looking at him until their eyes locked. "Do you think she is fine?", she asked. Her voice was barely shaken.

He wanted to look away, but he could not. "I don't know", he admitted. Her glare became more intense and, to reassure her, he quickly said "She'll be alright." She did not seem convinced. He forced a smile on his face. "You know Florence. She's courageous, but not bold. She'll know which risks she can take."
Olive agreed hesitantly and also smiled. But he could see that her smile was as forced as his smile.

"What are you going to do now?"
Timothy smirked. "I'll have to call my colleague. She'll be very happy. And then, we will start to search for Florence. If her capturers have not been able to disable the technology, we should be able to follow her trace and to find out where she is."
"And then you will rescue her? With guns and shooting and the whole happy ending?" Her risen brow indicated that she could not imagine this herself.

Timothy sighed. Of course it would not be that easy. Right now, they could be lucky if they could manage to follow her traces, let alone to find her. Plus, they would have the media at their heels. As soon as rumours had spread (and they would spread, they always did), the media would want to know about this. And they would want to hear it from chief Delacroix, because, well, she was the chief of the IEB. And as soon as she would not answer, there would be rumours. And they would cause panic. Because the announcement that Florence Delacroix, chief of the IEB, a highly trusted and valued person, could be kidnapped by any criminal would mean that the IEB itself was incapable of anything, as it could not even protect its own chief. And distrust in them lead to instability in the general public. Timothy sighed again at the perspective of having to fight again to keep the media off their backs. If Timothy hated right now anything in the world more than Flo's kidnapper, then it was the media.

"Timothy?" Olive said.
Timothy flinched. "Sure. Err, we'll try." He smirked, then became sinister. "Listen, Olive, it is very important that you won't tell anyone else about this. Panic could rise. It is very important for the well-being of all of us that this remains a secret. We can work best when we are left alone and..."

"Take me with you", Olive interrupted him.
He frowned. "What?"
"Take me with you", she repeated. Then she added a "please".
Timothy kept staring at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
"You could take me to the IEB", Olive said. Then she gave him a begging look. "Please. I feel so helpless." Then she pronounced what she had been thinking. "Somehow I am guilty of this mess. I could have stopped it." She looked him right in the eyes. "Please give me a possibility to help."

Timothy sighed. Perenelle would be utterly mad and Florence would probably have his head for bringing her neighbor in danger. On the other hand, he knew this look in her eyes, he had seen it too often in the eyes of young cadets. She would do something anyway. So he should better take her with him to keep an eye on her, instead of having her disturb them at the most important moment. That is not so uncommon, after all. Learning from the mistakes tons of fictional and non-fictional persons made, he agreed, sighting. If she proved to disturb too much, he could as well let her in the central in the custody of an officer.

Olive did not cheer, but she almost did. A broad smile spread over her face.