Taken.
While grabbing the weapons, Bella recalled the plot of the movie.
It was a famous film. An old agent, trying to rescue his daughter from human traffickers, tore through Paris, cutting down anyone and everyone in his path. Watching the movie felt incredibly satisfying, but she hadn't immediately connected it to herself.
It was just her rotten luck. Who would have thought that a simple trip to Paris would end up in this mess?
Right now, Bella wasn't thinking about a "Rescue"; she was thinking about a Hurricane passing through! A storm in pursuit!
Just the thought of those creeps having dirty fantasies about her made her furious!
Meeting up with Natasha, she pointed at the map to analyze.
"According to the intel from that guy earlier, the gang occupies three construction sites in the 20th Arrondissement. Their base is on Rue de Paradis in the 10th. Should we go to the construction sites to save people first?"
If she were working with Agent 006, she wouldn't hesitate to split up—you go to the site, I go to the base, kill one, kill a pair, we don't stop until it's quiet.
But currently, Bella was skeptical of Natasha's combat ability. The redhead was far from growing into the future Black Widow. She talked tough and refused to lose, but deep down, she didn't have much confidence.
Bella felt that if she didn't watch over her, and something happened, it would be too late for regrets.
Natasha had a different opinion. "No. With our current abilities, it's hard to rescue too many people at once, especially in a fierce gunfight... We eliminate the evil first, then save people. We go straight to Rue de Paradis. The construction sites will have to wait..."
Her analysis was rational and made sense.
Dragging a bunch of hostages into a gunfight... let alone the two of them, even Captain America would get dragged down and killed. Every extra person made it harder—fast. Bella, fresh from Silent Hill, understood this deeply.
She thought for a moment. "Alright. Let's check the weapons, then we move."
Eleven pistols, four rifles, two submachine guns, and a big bag of ammo. For their marksmanship, it was enough to deal with two or three hundred gangsters.
"FAMAS rifle? Garbage! ...M4? That's passable. Will you have any trouble using these?" Natasha asked while professionally calibrating a scope.
Bella didn't know if there would be trouble. Anyway, Agent 006 said she could use them freely. The weapons were "sourced" from the French Foreign Legion. The chain of interests involved was vast; ordinary people couldn't investigate it, and there was no way to investigate.
"Don't worry. My contact is reliable; he wouldn't screw me over on the small stuff."
"Good!"
"Body armor, one for each of us. Put it on, quick!"
Last time in Silent Hill, Bella had been overconfident, thinking she could dodge bullets, so she didn't wear armor. She was injured during the church melee and deeply regretted it.
A lesson learned the hard way. This time, she honestly put it on. Even if it didn't protect her arms, it was better than nothing, right?
"It's so ugly!" Natasha looked disgusted, but Bella held her head and forced it on.
To be honest, Bella thought it was ugly too. Bright green, looking like a Chunin vest from Naruto.
Magically, these two vests even had "FBI" printed in black letters on a white background on the chest. God knows where Agent 006 sourced this stock.
In the future, when superheroes and supervillains roamed the streets, S.H.I.E.L.D. would develop specialized ballistic, fire-resistant, and stab-resistant combat suits. But right now, no such clothes existed. Agents on missions still wore suits and ties; few even wore body armor.
It was approaching midnight. There were still quite a few pedestrians on the streets of Paris. The two drove half a circle and turned in from the rear of the 10th Arrondissement.
Natasha had pulled up the floor plan of the enemy base, but limited by the tech, they could only see a rough picture.
"According to that guy's confession, the trafficking ring should have about two to three hundred men. But that many people won't all be in the house. The base we're raiding has at most two hundred, probably less."
Natasha's tone was indifferent; she didn't take this number seriously at all.
Bella begged to differ. Two hundred people didn't sound like much, and previously she didn't think they posed a threat either. But after the battle in the Silent Hill church, where she was pinned down by the firepower of seventy or eighty people, she now had a clearer understanding.
Unless one had a Man of Steel body that could ignore bullets, if two hundred people organized to fight one person, that person really couldn't hold out.
"You can use your favorite suppressor now! We must be quiet when we go in. The more enemies we kill without being exposed in the early stages, the better. Every kill counts!" Bella said with a vicious edge.
Although still a bit worried, at Natasha's strong request, she agreed to split up. One through the front door, one hopping the wall into the yard.
"Watch your back. This isn't a game."
"I know. Stow that bleeding heart of yours too. Clear the enemies first, save people last."
They cautioned each other.
Although the two were very familiar and played around like real sisters, in Natasha's eyes, Bella was still shrouded in a veil of mystery.
"I'll go first. Be careful." Natasha got out of the car. She had to circle to the other side of the base and climb over the wall.
"You too."
Paris was different from Silent Hill. Silent Hill had no cameras, no cops, no one watching. In Paris, they had to pay attention to many details outside of combat.
Despite finding it troublesome, for the sake of their future peace of mind, both put on masks and caps. Aside from their figures showing they were female, there were no other giveaways.
The gang's base was a five-story building, resembling the Soviet-style blocks she had seen in her past life. It occupied a large area and had over fifty rooms.
There was an iron gate for protection outside, and a guard booth was visible upon entering.
Bella walked in boldly. Entering the gate, her getup—hat down, head low, carrying a black duffel bag—drew inquiries from two guards.
"Who are you looking for?"
Their answer was two suppressed shots.
Thwip. Thwip.
Bella looked down to check their weapons. Only one had a gun—a Russian MP-444 Bagira, or something similar. To her, they all looked about the same.
The calibers were different. Most Russian pistols used 9mm Luger ammo, while Bella preferred the M1911, which used .45 ACP—the heavy 11.43mm rounds.
The dead guard had a pistol but no spare magazine. The other didn't even have a gun, just a sharp knife.