The sleek mansion sat quietly in the Italian hills, blanketed by the warm night sky. The trees lining the driveway beyond the gate swayed gently in the breeze and the water feature at the end trickled softly. Inside the house, the couple slept safe and undisturbed. But that would not be the case for so long.

The first wave, consisting of three heavily armed soldiers dressed all in black, worked their way up the street, their thermal vision goggles lowered. They cut the power to the target house and the houses either side.

Once the go-ahead was given, a second wave made up of eight more identically dressed soldiers scaled the gate with the first wave joining them. They advanced towards the house from the front, up to the wide glass front doors. With cover provided, two of the soldiers lay down a duffel bag and removed tools to carve out the glass and allow them access.

No one made a sound and they took the time they attached the suction pads to the glass before delicately allowing the precision cutter to carve out a panel big enough for them to file through.

Once the cutting was completed, the glass was lifted out and placed on the floor. Two different soldiers took over and threw in four small bombs that on contact with the floor, emitted a gas consisting of carfentanil and remifentanil that dispersed far and wide very quickly. With their gas masks keeping them safe, they fanned out into the house and headed for where they knew the sleeping quarters to be.

As the first soldier approached the corridor, he too threw down a couple of new bombs that did the same thing. Advancing further down the corridor, which was now drenched in the harmful vapour, they turned into the room they were looking for. The door was already open and some of the vapour was circling in the room, but not enough. A few more bombs were silently tossed in, the last being thrown on the bed for good measure.

The silent and dangerous soldiers wasted no time in locating their target, pulling away the bedsheets. One soldier jumped onto the bed and crouched over the woman, placing robust head gear around her head, and adding two pads- one to each side of the head at the temples. A metallic collar was placed around her neck and she was lifted from where she limply lay onto a stretcher. The man in bed with the woman was left alone.

As she was stretchered out, the last soldier to leave the room stabbed a tarot card into the head board of the bed and they all left the way they came, collecting the spent gas cannisters as they passed.

The cocktail of knock out gas was strong enough to linger through the house until the next afternoon, giving the extraction team all the time they needed to get away before the alarm was raised.

***

Brad was sat waiting for his turn in the drive thru to order on the wet Sunday early afternoon. The storm last night had kept him up and he still had a long drive to see his God-children. He was two cars behind from his turn when his phone started ringing through the car speakers. It was Madam Secretary.

“Bit unusual for you on a Sunday Ma’am,” he suggested on accepting the call.

“And I wouldn’t normally but your services are required with the G7. I need you to mobilise ASAP and head to Italy,” she explained.

“Right, yes of course. I’ll be on my way and will let you know when I’m up in the air. Any idea what it's about?”

“It’s Stephanie Del Marta. She’s been abducted.”

***

Brad was hurtling across the Atlantic to Italy to meet up with the other G7 Enhanced members. The two hour flight felt like it was the longest journey he had ever taken to Europe, his concern and agitation making him impatient to get there. How could this have happened? And to her? he thought.

Stephanie Del Marta was a big time celebrity and when she wasn’t making movies, she was constantly on the covers of magazines and in commercials. She did everything and was known by everyone. It wasn’t just for the fact that she was enhanced that made her so famous. She had talent and beauty and won the hearts of everyone. She had also fought for her country nationally and globally, which made her a national treasure.

But it was that that caused Brad to be the most confused- she was capable of handling herself. How could she have been taken from her own home? He had no doubts who was behind this, but the ‘how’ was what got to him.

Brad could see European land mass on the horizon and even though it wasn’t possible to go any faster, he pushed on the lever in the hope.

***

Brad later arrived on the road which led to Stephanie’s home. The whole row of houses had been evacuated with the rich and the famous who lived in them turfed out to hotels in the city. The whole road was locked down and filled with military, police, secret service vehicles- just about anyone who had the resources and man power to find Stephanie were there.

As Brad walked freely towards the house, he got a few glances and nods of recognition and so he was allowed through with no questions asked. They all knew who he was and he knew where he was going.

Stephanie had recently got married in a private and luxurious event in the heart of Tuscany to movie director Gustov Finndamourne and she had let the visiting G7 members stay at her house for the week. Brad had fallen in love with it. It was like nothing he could imagine living in. Sure he was well looked after by the US Government but her house was next level income.

“Hey, wait up!” a familiar voice called out from behind him. It was Ferris.

“Hey man, how are you?” Brad asked, offering his fist for a bump.

“I think I was ten minutes behind you the whole time. This sounds like a weird one doesn’t it?” he said, referring to the reason for their presence in Italy.

They crossed onto the drive and walked up together to the house, where only eleven hours earlier, Stephanie’s abductors had walked. There was no front door now and the young Italian soldier on guard gestured for the two to go through to the garden. Brad and Ferris walked through the house and out of the large bi-folding doors that overlooked the wide, pristine and lush garden. In the heart of the garden, in the sunken seating area were the four remaining G7 members.

From Great Britain, dressed in a casual chino short and grey polo top combo was Isaac ‘The Constable’ York; from Germany was Anna Heibronn, also known simply as ‘Tank’; from France was Sandrine Deveaux, dressed effortlessly and glamourously in a little black dress- every bit the ‘Madame Libertié’ alias she went by. Finally, from Japan was Ose Kyoshi, who must have only arrived himself. Handshakes and polite kisses with Sandrine were exchanged.

“So what do we know?” Ferris asked. There would be time once this was over to get life updates from his international colleagues.

“Right. So around half past two this morning local time, the power was cut to this house and a couple of neighbouring houses. We believe that this was the time that access was gained and Stephanie subsequently taken,” Isaac began explaining. “Gustov woke unusually at midday, only three hours ago, and noticed she had gone, and the door damaged.”

In his home country, operating as The Constable, Isaac was a beefed up former police officer- a capable and brutal fighter, a leader, superior investigator and tactician with an almost infallible memory.

“Where was Gustov when this happened?” Anna asked. They had been waiting for everyone to arrive to discuss the job it seemed.

“He was right next to her in bed,” replied Isaac.

“How is he? Was he hurt?” Ose asked, taking off his jacket and settling down.

“He’s gone to a military hospital where he has been checked over. He felt groggy when he woke up so they took some bloods,” continued Isaac.

Despite Isaac taking the lead on this so far, there was no set leader within the G7 team. They were all equals but played to each other’s strengths. And this investigative initial phase was Isaac’s strength.

“Carbon monoxide?” queried Sandrine, having a guess at what caused Gustov to sleep through his wife’s abduction and waking up feeling groggy.

“Not quite,” Isaac started. “He had traces of both carfentanil and remifentanil- a knockout gas when combined. She wouldn’t have known what was happening to her.” The team sat to digest what they had heard.

“Was it The Purists who did this?” Brad asked, checking to see if his suspicions were true.

The answer was clear when Isaac placed a transparent plastic wallet on the table with a tarot card inside. Anna swore in her native tongue.

The card was a signature of The Purists- a radical organisation of hardcore evolutionists from all religious sects hell bent against Enhanced Beings of any kind. To them, being enhanced is against the natural order and was an unfair advantage to the ‘Pures’, as they referred to anyone not enhanced. It mattered not if someone became enhanced from birth or through circumstance. They all had to go.

Their calling card was the symbol of the world, where when upright signified perfection, success, fulfilment and eternal life. Basically their ideals. When reversed, the card showed disappointment and imperfection, what they see the world is with the existence of Enhanced Beings.

“Well, they’ve had a massive head start on us. They could be anywhere,” noted Ose in near perfect English. The Purists were a global institution with cells operating all over the world, so chances were they could be anywhere.

“A full forensic sweep was done very early on and we are awaiting some results on a few things. It’s being done as quick as it can,” was the best Isaac could offer, but the pace was frustrating. He shrugged but they all accepted it was the case.

“What is it they are looking for Isaac?” Ose asked.

“Well they were very good. They even took the cannisters of gas with them but we found a few traces of something botanical on the bedspread, which looks interesting.”

“Do we have any idea why this happened?” Sandrine asked.

“Nope, not a clue. I'm sure we’ll find out soon enough,” suggested the Brit.

“In the mean time I suggest we stay put and see if we get any leads come up, and just be ready to mobilise when we do,” Brad said, getting up from his seat. “I’m going to get my kit.”

“I’ll come with you, I could do with stretching my legs,” said Sandrine getting up as well and flattening out her dress.

At forty seven years old, she was the oldest of the G7 Enhanceds but was just as capable. She had sleek, curly shoulder length grey hair and a beauty spot on her cheek. She had the look of a model in any perfume commercial in fashion magazines. She had many strengths at her disposal, one being able to personally seduce or implant seductive desires into the subconscious of others. She was incredibly academically gifted and a ferocious fighter. When in her gold jump suit and kit, she had the benefit of being able to blast fire from her right hand and expertly fight with the chains she carried over her shoulder. Looking at her walk, arm hooked around Brad’s down the street, you would not have thought it about her.

“It’s good to see you again, Bradley,” she expressed, giving his arm a squeeze affectionately.

Only Sandrine and his mother got away with calling him Bradley. “You too Sandrine, you too. How have you been keeping?”

“Comme ci, comme ça, I would say. How are you holding up over this?” Sandrine pressed. She knew this had the potential of being a little bit personal for Brad.

“Well you know, obviously I’m concerned for Stephanie and her unborn child,” he explained vaguely.

It was no secret that Brad had had a thing for Stephanie and he was hit hard by her relationship with Gustov when it started three years ago. That heartbreak mellowed over time but when her pregnancy was announced in the press, it did bring it all back for a while. “But my concern is that of a friend. I do not have feelings for her anymore, they’re long gone,” he assured, knowing what she was getting at in her questioning.

“Good. We will find her Brad. I’m worried for her too but I know we will find her.”

***

Forty five minutes later, the group were reconvened after some results came back on the botanical traces from the bedding. All members had since got their kit together and took the chance to get freshened up and ready.

“Good news everyone. We got trace off the substance in the bedroom,” announced Isaac. “It was a flower named Dianthus Moravicus, found only in Czechia.” There was a ripple of murmuring between the other members.

Anna was the first to get up. “Then we go,” she instructed, picking up her RPG. Anna was an elite soldier in her own right. A master in warfare and in the use of weaponry and explosives. Standing tall at six foot, dressed in green camo and built like a body builder, she had skin so hard it was known to resist harm, pain, extremes in temperature and penetration. She was a tank in every sense.

“Yes, we will be Anna. We’ve been working on air traffic data as we are working on the assumption that she was flown out, so once we know what birds were up and where they landed, we might get a narrowed area that-”

“No. We go now. We will be ready to react. Czechia isn’t large area anyway,” interrupted Anna.

“Look, I agree Anna. I would have finished my sentence by explaining that we will have the support of Italy’s 9th Parachute Assault Regiment and they’ll let us know within the half hour when they are ready to go.”

Anna nodded her understanding. “Good. Here, take my RPG,” she said to Ose, thrusting the weapon at him.

Ose was known as ‘Tetsuo’, meaning wise hero. He pulled his katana and its strap over his shoulder so his hands were free. He wasn’t a tall man, but that went in his favour when stealthily making his way through fields of combat. He was a natural in Kenjutsu and had an enhanced mastery in the use of the sword. Dressed all in traditional black clothes, topped with a black hooded cloak, he was not to be messed with. He was never without his katana and he was certainly not used to the explosive weaponry he was told to carry and Anna noticed.

“Don’t be baby. Hold it properly. It can’t just go boom.”

Continued in Part B...