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.”

***

Shortly before take-off, the remaining members of the G7 got a narrowed down area of Czechia to look within. On researching the area and with access to satellite images, they were now heading for an abandoned fifteenth century castle on top of a cliff, which provided limited access as a result.

They had two options. Either go airborne and risk getting shot out of the sky when nearby, or take the trek up from a mile and a half away, and not be detected. The latter was the option they went with.

It was three a.m. when they landed at the drop zone where they would trek from with the additional twenty five strong team of Italy’s special forces. The Italians disembarked their helicopter and the six international Enhanceds got off Anna’s jet which was larger and had used less fuel getting to Italy than the other’s.

They were now all in their kits- Brad standing proud in his dark green jump suit with black trimming. It was designed to allow him to stretch and contort his body and give him the protection he needed.

Ferris, now adopting his ‘Two Tone’ persona was in his bright and bold white and red coloured suit where the colours were split diagonally across his abdomen. It was so bright that the Italian commander of the supporting regiment insisted he wore a ghillie suit on the advance up.

The Constable just looked heavily militarised in his navy blue fire resistant overalls and black Kevlar vest. He was armed with his solid steel baton and his gloves were capable of emitting electric shocks to incapacitate his foes.

They were all ready to go, and the castle could be seen on the crest of the cliff. It took them twenty minutes to reach their final rendezvous point before they could begin the assault on the castle. The incline had been steep in places and the width of the trails at time were so narrow that a regular person would have had to have kept their arms tucked in. Anna found this part particularly difficult.

It was still completely dark but parts of the castle were lit from inside, showing signs that there were people there. They had no idea why this had happened but they all hoped they weren’t too late.

The plan was to spread out and hit the castle silently, using the night and the element of surprise to take out the enemies one by one until they found Stephanie. Tank was suited to the more aggressive approach, so she was going to hang back and rig the place with explosives, or if it all turned south, storm in with her trusty Heckler & Koch MG68 to mop up.

The signal was given and the G7 led the way, fanning out as they did, taking a few soldiers with them each.

Proten was able to clear corners on the approach by utilising his long neck from a safe distance and pulling unsuspecting guards to him for dispatching without the need to get too close.

Tetsuo was as silent as the blossom that falls from the tree as he sliced and diced his way through the corridors and the adjacent rooms with his team of Italian soldiers searching for Stephanie.

The Constable and Two Tone were paired up and took to the lower grounds where the dungeons were located. They weren’t as heavily guarded which made them think Stephanie was being held elsewhere, if of course she was still alive.

Madam Libertié was careful not to use her fire blaster attachment or her noisy chains in combat, so instead induced a warm and intense wave of love in those she came across, allowing her to get close enough to knock them out.

The French temptress was leading her group of Italy’s finest when she came to the end of a corridor with grand double doors. One of the soldiers used a small camera to check the other side by slipping it under the door. He indicated that there was one man on the other side. Madam Libertié instructed the soldiers to wait and she opened the door and walked through. The guard turned slowly, not expecting to see a gold clad woman strutting towards him. Instantly her strengths started working on him and he greeted her as if she was his first and only love.

“Oh sweetie, there you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” she flirted. He didn’t have the composure to reply. “I just wanted to know…” She had her body pressed against his, running her finger down his cheek. She needn’t do that, for he was already under her spell, but she always thought why have the ability and not have fun with it. “…where Stephanie is being held.”

He quivered with urges. “T-top floor, the room over l-looking the valleeeeeey below,” he stuttered as he reached an unfortunate climax.

She smiled, expressed her thanks and knocked him out with a swift whack of elbow to the temple. Before he hit the ground, she had already turned and was speaking into her wrist mic to everyone else. "Team! Top floor. The room over-looking the valley.”

“We hear that loud and clear. All groups head to the top floor. Tank, draw them out.” The Constable commanded.

Outside, Tank detonated the explosives she had wired at the far end of the castle. Any remaining and unsuspecting guards would run towards the noise where Tank would be waiting and ready to take them out. The perfect distraction. But there was always the possibility that The Purists would equally converge on where Stephanie was, seeing through the distraction as a rescue attempt.

They moved fast. Madam Libertié fell behind Proten as they raced up a grand staircase. From above, the doors erupted open from both sides and The Purists started opening fire down on them. Instantly, Proten stretched up making himself big, his arms reaching out and up, grabbing for their attackers.

Madam Libertié returned fire with actual fire and readied her chains for some graceful close quarter combat. The 9th Regiment picked off who they could, whilst progressing up the staircase.

Elsewhere, Two Tone, The Constable and Tetsuo converged on the top floor with relative ease, and took stock in a hallway, able to look out through the windows at the view of their paths taken to the castle earlier.

“I feel like we’re close- are you alright?” Tetsuo asked the pair.

“Yeah, all good. I think Sandrine and Brad have encountered a problem but they’ll-,” the Canadian was interrupted by a door opening, where a slim, bald man and a stern looking woman with a sharp, black bob came out. Both were wearing long black lab coats.

“I assumed it was going to be a matter of time before you found us,” the stern woman said, addressing the three G7 members standing there.

To start with there were about twenty metres between them, but the two Purists kept slowly walking forward, boldly closing the gap.

“Stop there now,” Tetsuo instructed, taking control of his sword in readiness. “Or I’ll kill you both myself.”

“I’m sure you would,” the bald man sneered. “So we’ll stop here then.”

They both portrayed a certain self-assuredness, a cocky attitude which troubled The Constable. “Is Stephanie through there?” he demanded.

“Yes she is, but you’re too late,” the woman said.

“Too late for what? What did you do?” This time The Constable stepped forward.

The woman seemed unconcerned at the strengths the people in front of her possessed and simply said, “You can go and see for yourself.”

Two Tone shifted, unsure whether this was a bluff. Why were they being so accommodating? What are they planning?

“I’ve heard enough,” a German voice came through over the earpieces and before any other questions could be asked, a window shattered and the heads of both the scientist looking Purists exploded in bone and brain, as a well lined up sniper shot tore through them. The two bodies fell in a heap on the carpet.

Stretch and Madame Libertié charged into the hallway expecting the worst, but relaxed when they saw that their team mates were ok.

“Nice shooting, Tank,” congratulated Two Tone.

“You all talk too much. Now go and get Stephanie. I took care of everyone else,” she said in a matter of fact way.

The five G7 members stepped over the bodies and approached the room where the now deceased Purists came from. Proten abruptly opened the door, assured that where weren’t any guards on the other side.

The room was huge and was being lit by the rising sun from the many windows at the opposite wall. The room was bare, except for a small desk on the left and in the dead centre, a hospital bed with a drip and two monitors. On the bed was Stephanie. She wore the same headgear and collar that was put on her when she was taken and she was strapped to the bed by her arms, legs and abdomen.

But it was her wide, terrified eyes that haunted her colleagues.

They ran over to her.

“Get these harnesses off her,” Madam Libertié fretted.

“Stephanie, can you speak? Are you ok?” Proten desperately asked. “Talk to me!”

She didn’t answer. She just stared out with the same wide eyes. Her friends tore at her straps whilst The Constable examined her head and neck gear.

“They must be interrupting her neurons and her ability to use her strengths,” he surmised, examining the equipment. He was fiddling, feeling for a release catch.

“Here, I do it,” Tank said from behind. She had already made her way up to them somehow and came to the side of the bed. With one tug, she tore the gear off around Stephanie’s head. Being more gentle of the piece around her neck, she crushed it at a point so that it came off. Stephanie let out a huge gasp of relief.

And then, the tears started.

Tank stepped back and Proten moved in to comfort. She cried out in agony and through her tears, she sobbed and clawed at her hair, desperately writhing around in pain.

“Stephanie, Stephanie! Tell us what happened,” the Frenchwoman softly pushed. But her answer didn’t come for another few minutes. Through what must’ve been exhaustion, the crying stopped.

“My baby,” she started. No one spoke to interrupt. “My baby. THEY KILLED MY BABY! THEY TOOK HER. THEY TOOK HER OUT OF ME!” she hysterically screamed out, and the crying started again. Proten tried to pull her in close for comfort but she pulled away. The others looked around at each other.

“Woah, what are you saying?” Tetsuo asked, wondering if he was suffering with a language barrier.

“My baby. My baby my baby my baby! They said… they said it was disgusting and unnatural,” she started to say through the sobs. “That it was disgusting for a Pure to have a baby with an Enhanced. That my baby shouldn’t exist.”

The others shared horrified, puzzled looks between themselves. Words could not be found to make sense of what had happened to Stephanie, nor to console her.

“I begged them to kill me after they killed my baby,” she continued. “I didn’t want to live if it wasn’t going to be without my baby. But they said that that wasn't the message. They want people to know that Enhanceds and Pures shouldn’t be having babies. They kept me alive to symbolise that message.”

“Oh darling, I am so sorry that this has happened to you,” Madame Libertié soothed. “Come on, we have to get you home to Gustov, ok? He’s so worried about you and you need to be there for each other right now.”

Stephanie started crying again, so the men stepped away from the bed whilst Libertié and Tank went in to console her.

The leader of the Italian Special Forces entered the room. “We are ready for extraction now,” he said.

“Thank you, but we might need some time. We’ll be down when we’re ready,” Proten solemnly advised.

Next week in Network #3, Byting Off More Than You Can Chew, part 2...

we re-join Network and Flip and find out how they get their way out of their predicament, and if they’ll find the rare Maltese Tiger.