Babysnatchers

It had been amazingly easy for Tom Gelding to penetrate Katherine Lupin's Art Gallery and to find the two babies that had been sleeping in the backroom in a portable crib while Katherine waited on the man Gelding had sent in as a distraction. The one baby had been no problem--hadn't made a sound. But the second little brat had had a sudden burst of accidental magic and had gone all animagus on him. Some freaking puppy now was in the pink lacy baby blankets that were monogrammed AL in satiny script. Stupid brat!

He scooped up both babies quickly, and used a portkey he had made out of a little pink pacifier, and apparated safely back to the streets of Paris. The short walk back to his headquarters would be a piece of cake from there. Well, if he didn't have to contend with furry ears, muzzle, and that damned tail.

It would not take long to get Brian Quinn's attention. Gelding had not been able to find Quinn's safehouse where he'd kept Robert Lupin's precious daughter, granddaughter, and great granddaughter safely spirited away from harm. However, Quinn had made a mistake. He had taken Lupin's daughter to Tuscany and left the babies behind with Robert and Katherine. They clearly had started to relax their guard on their offspring. And Gelding knew Robert Lupin well. He was planning on avoiding him. His goal was to lure Quinn out of hiding and kill him--weaken Lupin's organization right in its strongest link. From there, like any good demolitions expert knew, without the main support, any good structure would tumble. Brian Quinn was Robert's weight bearing structure column, and if he could take Quinn out, he would not have to continue to lose money by Lupin's men incommoding him any further. It was purely a matter of money. And he figured the Lupin babies would fetch a high price. These two would be very private sales. He knew just the bidder he would sell the babies to. The fact that they were Lupins more than quadrupled the already healthy price Gelding charged. He smiled satisfactorily, thinking of the nice insulation all that cash would provide to his wallet. And where better to do all this selling than right in Paris? Right under Quinn's nose at his base of operations. Nice touch, he smiled to himself.

It was times like these when David remembered why he married Christophe. Sure, his partner’s arse was bony and he wasn’t the lightest person in the world but when he was calm and peaceful, David remembered why he loved him so much. There was definitely not place in the world he would have rather been but if he could have picked then they wouldn’t have been in a park because the tree he was leaning against was fairly hard. He couldn’t complain though, why would he? His life was almost perfect and he could say with confidence that he wouldn’t need to do much to change it. Perhaps get a house instead of a flat and maybe let Chris decorate the nursery the way he wanted it. David was adamant though that no child of theirs would have a hot pink bedroom.

“Love?” David kissed his lover’s platinum blonde hair in an attempt to wake the man but Christophe cuddled closer to David. Sighing, David wrapped his arms around his lover but couldn’t manage to keep the smile of amusement off of his face. Christophe was becoming increasingly weary as his pregnancy progressed but David idly wondered how the whole process was going to work. The man was mad and Jen was mad for helping him with the potion aspect of it. David himself was mad for allowing his lover to do it but he couldn’t deny that he loved how Chris was becoming. The man was turning into a big blonde teddy bear and it took all of David’s will power to allow the man out of his arms. It was difficult sometimes as Christophe’s moods were more erratic than ever but mainly the stubborn Frenchman slept.

A young woman with dark red locks made her way over to them and David noticed the scantily-clad clothing she was wearing straight away. She was beautiful, it couldn’t be denied, but the clothing detracted from that but it also made it easier for him to identify her. She was an artist’s model that seemed to be interested in earning a little extra money. For once, though, it seemed as if the models were trying to make an honest living. This one had a basket in her hand, filled to the brim with roses. She spoke to him when she was close enough for David to hear, her crimson lips parting as her mouth formed the words. “Bonjour Monsieur! Souhaitez-vous acheter des roses?” David nodded and she smiled widely at him. She took a small bouquet already joined with a ribbon and handed it to him. David took them and he pressed a few Euros into her hand. She nodded in thanks and walked away to find another young couple to speak with about the roses.

After about half an hour, David felt himself nodding off. He willed himself to stay awake though and cast a bleary eye around the park. Over in the corner were the crooks that tried to sell the children that they’d kidnapped from goodness knows where. David knew that if Chris were to see then he’d be heartbroken so he decided it best to wake his lover. But as he was about to he saw another man join the fold with two children in his arms. They were babies, not even old enough to speak a few words. Yet, something struck David odd. The first was fine but the second...it looked like a Labrador pup had been wrapped up in a blanket. He straightened his dark framed glasses on the end of his nose and narrowed his eyes in the direction of the man. It was at the point that the initials on the swaddling became visible to David that he began to get even more suspicious.

He was about to wake Chris up when his phone vibrated on the floor next to the book he’d been reading earlier. David narrowed his eyes and picked the offending piece of plastic up off of the ground. He flipped it up and put it to his ear, keeping his eyes on the group all the while. “Hello?” He muttered distractedly. He heard a familiar voice down the other end of the phone and smiled a little. “Why hello to you too, gorgeous. How’ve you been? I heard Azkaban is more favourable in the summer, would you agree?” He heard the voice again and smirked as the words became clipped with annoyance. “Yeah I love you too. Listen, how much to reckon Animagi are worth on the market? I’m talking child Animagi. No, no reason. There’s one here though – in the park. Looks familiar too. Rob? Hello?”

There was no sound on the other end except from the dial tone but David could have sworn he’d heard a crack of Apparation before the line went dead. He sighed and ran his hand down Chris’ spine. Footfalls came from behind him and David looked over his shoulder. First he saw red sneakers but then dark blue pinstripe trousers and a blazer to match. Then a dark tie and a brown trench coat that reached the wearers shins. Finally he saw the person’s face and recognised a different version of his friend. For the first time in years, Rob looked younger than he was. He was wearing glasses again and he looked pleasantly nerdy with a bit of an edge. His hair was as sandy as ever, though and David only just managed to keep a straight face. “You look like an idiot.” He said dryly, earning a grimace from his friend. “Over there Rob.” He nodded in the direction of the man and Rob turned. His features darkened and his eyes narrowed. David swallowed. “That’s not...who I think you’re thinking that is, is it?”

Robert could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the empty crib in Katherine's shop. Poor Katherine had nearly lost her mind with terror and guilt and grief. He quickly had consolled her and had calmed her, promising he would get the babies back, regardless of what it took. They decided, mutually, almost instantly, that they could not tell Khaat. She would not hesitate to go on a killing spree in Paris looking for Gelding. For her daughter and her granddaughter, Khaat had no limits, had no boundaries. And they both knew it. It would push her beyond all her limits of what grief she could take. No, he had to either do this alone or get help elsewhere. He sat for a moment and considered his options. Then he sent a message to Jen at Malfoy Manor, on plain parchment, simply saying. "Meet me at once. Urgent. It is worth your while--besides just superior firewhiskey. " He didn't sign it. He knew Jen would know that the only person who would offer to give her top shelf, vintage firewhiskey was him. He sent the message with a small brown owl and not Archangel. And he knew she would also know that the place he kept that vintage was at home.

"I'll be back, Kate. Don't worry. I'll bring them home, but this might take a bit of doing," he kissed her. "This was not your fault. " He apparated home, and broke out a bottle of his finest firewhiskey and two cut crystal glasses. Really good firewhiskey deserved lead crystal. Not cheap glass. He sat them on the kitchen table. Then he changed into his black mission clothes, his black cloak, put his wand in his boot, and got out his large magical staff and leaned it against the table. He'd packed a dagger in his other boot and another in his belt. If Jen needed weapons, he'd open his arsenal for her for this occasion. He wouldn't make a practice of it, but he laid out two of his best daggers on the table for her in their sheaths. They were razor sharp and would cut before the victim knew what hit them. He also had more than enough muggle guns to satisfy even her taste for artillery. As far as Robert was concerned, this was war.

He thought briefly about sending a message to Rob, but he honestly didn't know if Rob would give a crap. Jen, however, would. He was banking money on it. Hell, he was banking his whole family on it.

David swallowed hard and managed to grip the hem of Rob’s trousers, stopping the impulsive idiot from going over there. He looked up at Rob hesitantly and saw his friend’s jaw was set. His lightly tanned hands were clenched and his wand seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket. A part of David was quite impressed with his friend. It proved that the fool wasn’t entirely heartless. It proved that he still cared even if it was only a little bit. The Animagi baby seemed to be giving the man a hard time where as the other child remained silent – probably deep in the throes of dreamland. David held on fast to his friend’s trouser leg and pulled him down onto the ground beside him. Chris didn’t seem to notice the thump as Rob landed awkwardly on the ground and continued to sleep. David rolled his eyes and moved his hand to Rob’s forearm. The man’s head snapped to the side and he glared at David. David quickly retracted his hand from his friend’s arm and braced himself for the lightening fast movement that Rob would perform. But oddly it never came. “Patience,” was all his friend said.


The wounds still hurt; immensely. Jenifer’s body hurt, ached even and it was begging her to rest but she couldn’t do that. She had to keep moving or her guilt would overwhelm her. She was anxious and waiting on her sources to return for information on Jess Potter’s state of health. She’d long since forgotten about her own ill health and was more worried about the man that had hurt her and considered helping her during the battle of Grimmauld Place. Jen wrung her hands together and pulled at her hair in frustration. She’d holed herself up in Malfoy Manor and had already drunk enough of Lucius’ booze to last her the next four years. The alcohol wasn’t numbing her mind though; it was just making her emotions more draining. She was having a hard time staying awake and was a stone’s throw away from Floo-ing back to Hogwarts for some much needed rest in the dungeons.

Jen was about to do just that when a tapping sound met her ears. She turned and looked to see a small owl with chocolate colouring tapping its beak against the window. She tensed up immediately and removed her wand from her pocket. She approached the window with careful movements. She tipped the latch back and pushed the window open a crack. The owl nipped her finger and she looked at it angrily. It seemed to be put off by her scarred face, the result of the Sectumsempra torture, and dropped the parchment into her hand before flying away. Jen looked down at the floor in embarrassment and quickly pulled the window closed. She walked over to her bed and sat down. She carefully unrolled the parchment and read the calligraphy on the page. She narrowed her eyes and turned it over to see if there was anything on the back but when she found nothing she began to get suspicious.

Nethertheless, Jen pulled a cloak onto her shoulders and Apparated with a loud crack. Apparation still threw her and she nigh on collapsed when she arrived outside the Lupin farm. Hissing out a few expletives, Jen composed herself and walked up to the house. She didn’t waste time knocking, instead choosing to unlock the door with a quick ‘Alohamora’. She walked through the house and stopped in the doorway of the kitchen where the Lupin patriarch was. She crossed her scarred arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at Robert. She wanted to know why he summoned her there but by the looks of the sheathed knives on the table...he wanted a favour. Jen inclined her head somewhat and the light coming through the kitchen window hit a particularly nasty scar that ran along her jaw. It was then that she spotted the Whisky and was glad that Robert wasn’t just screwing her over. “What do you want?” She asked, getting straight to the point. She wasn’t going to get too close. The last thing she needed was to be arrested again.

He was glad to see she was better than he thought she might be. He didn't respond immediately, but rather, he uncorked the bottle of vintage firewhiskey and poured some in both glasses. He casually picked up one of the glasses, one chosen randomly, and took a sip and savored it for a moment before he spoke.

"Sit," he said gently, no malace in his tone, " I have no desire to send you back to Azkaban. Personally, it doesn't bother me a bit now that you shot Rob. As far as I'm concerned, he got a portion of what he deserved. But I do have something that might interest you. It seems I have something you need, and it also appears that right now, I need you. Tradition dictates we at least drink on it."

He drew a folded paper from his pocket and laid it on the table in front of her. It was a full pardon for her crime that she had been convicted of--without Khaat's essential signature. "How much would it be worth to you if my daughter signed that for you? Please note, this is just for you. Not for Rob. I called you--not him. You help me, and I will help you over the worst of the suffering your injuries are causing you. That will be essential for you if you agree to what I need. I will get Khaat to sign that form which overturns your conviction as well as the possibility that you could go back to Azkaban for that charge. In the meantime,..." he laid a second form in front of her. It was a halt to the warrant for her arrest, signed by him as the Head of Law Enforcement for the Ministry. "A show of good faith, I thought perhaps, might show you I was on the up and up. No tricks. You have my word. You might not like me, but I have never lied to you."

He paused again, watching her face before he decided to drop the other shoe. "Your niece is in life threatening danger. Abbey and Khaat's granddaughter, Dakota, have been kidnapped. My best bet is that they've been taking to Paris for auction. I cannot tell Khaat. She's changed a bit, Jen. When it comes to any harm coming to Abbey, she would not hesitate to go on a killing spree that would make Paris think there is a serial killer in their midst, and I doubt she would stop until she found Abbey and Dakota both. And I'm being very serious. She'd stop at nothing to get her daughter back.

"I deliberately did not call Rob because I do not know if he gives a rat's ass about his child. I wish I did not have that reservation, but I do. If he does have any genuine interest in his daughter, I have no objection to him being involved, but until that time, I prefer to leave him out. So--I need someone that I can trust to not kill everyone in their path for no cause whatsoever. I prefer not to call that much attention to this. This needs to be swift and silent and absolutely deadly to the people who are responsible for this. I would think the price would be right. Your freedom from fear of return to Azkaban in exchange for Abbey and Dakota returning safely to Khaat. What do you say? Are you in?"

The dark liquid flowed from the rim of the bottle like a waterfall and Jen’s dark eyes followed the liquid as it splashed around in each glass before settling down when the flow was cut off. She refused his suggestion for her to sit and hovered in the doorway. She didn’t want to believe that he didn’t care about her absence in Azkaban and foolish alignment with the Death Eaters. She didn’t know if he knew about the latter part but knowing Robert he probably did. Scowling a little at the thought, Jen hesitantly stepped inside the kitchen. She walked over and pulled a seat out. She slipped down in it, as graceful as ever and pulled the glass towards her. She cupped her hands around it and put it to her lips, taking some of the cool liquid into her mouth. She savoured the taste and smiled a little as it burned its way down her throat and she sat back in the chair.

She looked intently at the paper he had pushed towards her and Jen bit her tongue. She needed Khaat’s signature and she was home free so to speak. Jen’s pupils dilated a little and she quickly took another sip of the Firewhisky to distract herself. She did have a mind to snatch it up right then and there but then she’d have to track Khaat down and it wasn’t actually worth it. Jen put her glass down and watched as Robert put down a document that would get the Aurors off of her ass. They’d been irritating her and there were only so many places you could appear in to keep them busy and off your tail. She knew they’d tried Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor but both had come up short as you couldn’t get into the Manor and Hogwarts was closed for the summer. They’d also gone and visited Charlotte but from what she’d heard that hadn’t ended that well.

This was all fine and dandy but Robert had no real reason to let her get off scot free for whatever she went to Azkaban for. It was all a little bit fuzzy now when you thought about it. But Robert dropped a bomb that Jen hadn’t actually thought about. She was worried but Paris thugs weren’t exactly hard to get rid of as long as you didn’t piss of the models in the process otherwise you were running away from a band of half-dressed Frenchwomen. Jen cocked her head to the side and looked at Robert before deciding that he was probably telling the truth about Khaat. That was an interesting piece of information that Jen doubted Rob knew. Dakota must have been Miseria’s daughter. Jen didn’t know what she thought about the name but it had nothing to do with her so she couldn’t really complain. Jen considered it all for a few moments before nodding, “Alright.” She said. “I’ll help you.”

"Done, then," Robert said. "I'll get the signature you need on the pardon. You needn't worry about that. She'll sign it. You know, she has no reason not to sign it, really. Not from where her thoughts are. Our quarry is a rather ruthless dark arts practitioner named Thomas Gelding. He has a large scale human trafficking operation based in Paris. Gelding is probably doing this to either draw me out or Brian. He and Brian have been nemeses for years. If I were Gelding, I would be working to either sell the babies to the highest bidder at a very exclusive auction, or I would have an elite customer already. We don't dare waste much time. We don't have an exact location for his headquarters because he keeps moving it. He's a bit paranoid that way. He's not very strong on protection charms. He is, however, a master at killing and wounding spells. Gelding learned what he knows from his father, who was a rather unstable paid assassin who was also very money hungry. I killed Geoffrey Gelding about 10 years or so ago in a duel.

"Just so you know, not that it is unfamiliar ground, but Tom Gelding always aims to kill when he's fighting. Never anything less. He never wounds if he can help it. He takes no prisoners, gives no quarter. You will have to be at the top of your game. If we misstep, it will be like opening up a hill of fireants. They will just keep coming without pause.

"Now, besides a bit more healing so you can function a bit more efficiently, what else do you need? Artillary is something I am not short of," he told her. He motioned to the blades, "There is a lot more where that came from.

Matt apparated to the Lupin's farmhouse he had heard in the halls of Mungo's that Abbey had been snatched and Robert had left quickly. So he did the first thing he though to do, go to his house. He walked up the path, his arm in a sling still and opened the door to find Robert sitting with Jen. He was shocked, and a little angry. What was Jen doing out of Azkaban, he'd have to speak with his aurors in charge of guarding Azkaban. "Uuuuuhhhh...hi." he said to them. "Can I ask what the hell is going on?" he asked them not really asking them though. "You're supposed to be in Azkaban." he said to Jen. "And why didn't you tell me about Abbey?" he asked Robert.

Looking between his lover and his friend, David sighed. Christophe was dead to the world and Rob was trying to kill the man who had his daughter with his eyes. It wasn’t going too well and David was feeling incredibly awkward. David pushed himself up onto his feet and looked down at Christophe who had taken the hot pink baby shower planner into his arms. Pierre had gotten it for him in jest but the flamboyant Frenchman had taken his friend seriously and had automatically begun to plan the whole thing in great detail much to David’s chagrin. He stretched and clicked his neck. He ran a hand through his dark hair and straightened his thick-rimmed glasses.

He heard someone call his name and he looked around for the source of the sound. David quickly spotted Pierre and smiled to himself. Pete looked like a stereotypical Frenchman with a red beret and a white top with black stripes. It looked cute on him – all he was missing was the baguette and he’d be set. Instead though, he had his school books tucked under his arm. He’d announced that he was taking some obscure course at the university a month ago, not long after confiding in David about ending his marriage with Melissa. That had happened and she hadn’t been best pleased but by that point Pierre had immersed himself in school work so he kicked her out without a second thought.

“Pierre, where have you been?” David asked, taking his friend into his arms. “You left me with a broody ex-con and my husband.” David pouted and Pierre chuckled. The two looked over at the former and Pierre smiled a little as he watched Rob’s chest rise and fall. The man was sitting cross-legged on the grass and seemed to be observing something or someone and for once it wasn’t the scantily-clad models which Pierre was almost smug about. He glanced at David who was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and he blushed, his whole face turning tomato red. “Pierre, you can’t seriously still-“

“I was just admiring his...uh...physique. He’s very fit you know.” The blush spread over his shoulders and chest. Pierre felt naked underneath David’s knowing gaze and he held his books up in attempt to hide his face.
“Stop looking at me, David.” Pierre said angrily.
“Is it a crime to look at someone?” David asked sarcastically, pushing the books away from Pierre’s face. “Pete he broke your heart and continues to. Every time he comes and goes a little bit of your heart gets chipped away and I can’t stand you-" He was going to continue but Pierre cut him off.
“David please just stop it. I thrive on these visits and you know it.” Pierre threw over his shoulder as he walked towards Rob.

Rob felt something brush his leg and he saw Pierre sit down next to him out of his peripheral vision. He didn’t take his eyes off of the bastard with his daughter though, he couldn’t bring himself to. It was as if the man was going to disappear with them if he looked away from even a second. Pete sighed from beside Rob and put a hand on his forearm. “I missed you.” He whispered, his bright eyes flicking up to Rob’s face. When Rob didn’t reply Pete nibbled on his pouty bottom lip and Rob’s eyes drifted to it before looking away, back to the bastard that had his daughter and grandchild. He was really drawing in a crowd now and that infuriated Rob even more. “Rob...?”
“What do you want me to say to you, Pierre?” Rob hissed his lips barely moving. “That I missed you too? You know I did....like hell but every good feeling was sucked away by those effing bed sheets. Just please...give me a break.”

Rob heard something akin to a sniffle or a sob and he turned his head to look at Pierre. His friend’s hand had slipped from his forearm and he was using that hand to play with bits of his hair. His teeth were cutting into his bottom lip and Rob saw a few drops of blood run off of his lip and onto his chin. The thing that really claimed his attention was the bright blue irises that were full of hurt and the eyes that had been filled with tears. Rob turned and cupped Pierre’s face. He wiped the fallen tears off of his cheeks and ran his thumb along the lips that were dripped in crimson. Pierre looked up at him and Rob sighed. “Pete...I’m sorry.” He watched as Pierre raised one of his delightfully small hands and covered the hand that Rob had used to wipe the blood away. He laced his fingers with Rob’s and rested his forehead against his friend’s. “You’re forgiven.” He murmured before finding himself wrapped up in the strong arms of his ex-lover. “I’ve missed you...so much.”

It would be at this point in the movie where the screen would go black and white text would appear saying “Meanwhile” and it would have a series of dots after the word. The scene would then change and the kitchen that Jenifer Elizabeth Dent had found herself in could be seen. No doubt the scene would change and there would be a visual of dark robes and the crunching of boots moving across gravel as the backing sound. Then of course the door would slam open and in would waltz the irate Minister at which point all of the pubescent twelve-year-olds would start gushing and squealing in delight. Unfortunately though, much to Jenifer’s dismay, this was real life and her character wasn’t physically exhausted – she was – and Matt was actually there which was also a kink in her plan to not get caught by the Ministry.

Jen pouted when Matt threw Azkaban back in her face and she sat back in her chair, taking the glass of Firewhisky back into her hands. A smirk pulled up the sides of her lips and she raised an elegant eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry to disappoint you sweetheart.” She said saucily. “But as Minister...wouldn’t you already know about my absence in Azkaban? There must be communication problems...that poor kid was so....unfortunate.” She looked sad for a few moments at the death of the idiotic sex-driven guard but smiled nonplussed and her face turned serious for a few moments. “How is Jess?” He’d been stone since she’d last seen him but for all she knew he could have had five heads and a dragon tail because by that point she was semi-unconscious and in a great deal of pain – the same amount, thankfully slightly dulled by numerous potions, that she was in now.

"Do come in, Matt," Robert said calmly. "Join us in a whiskey? It really is incredibly good vintage firewhiskey." He accio'd a third glass to the table. "I did not tell you about Abbey because you were not released from St. Mungos. I figured if I told you, you might leave against medical advice. Seems I was right. But so long as you're here, you might as well join in. Abbey is not the only victim here, though. Dakota, Khaat's granddaughter--Miseria's newborn daughter--is missing too.

"Khaat does not know. Neither does Brian. I've diverted them out of England, on holiday in Tuscany--and I mean to keep them there until this is over. Besides us, Katherine is the only other person I told. I have not told Khaat because she would probably lose all reasonable control. I really do not want to see her going on a killing spree in Paris to get her daughter back, which is my best guess as to where the babies are. And I have no doubt that Khaat would do exactly that. Brian, well, he would insist on doing this mission alone to get the babies back, and I believe that is exactly what the kidnapper is counting on from him. Brian would be very willingly and knowingly walking into one of the biggest ambushes of his young life. Their rage at me is going to be unparalleled, but it can't be helped at the moment.

"The mission facts are these. There is a massive worldwide organization that has, for decades, kidnapped the innocent children of wizarding parents and sold them to the highest muggle bidder. The children are kept as slaves--merely as property and nothing more-- and only taught enough magic by well compensated dark arts practitioners to make their muggle 'owners' either more powerful or profitable.

"I have an organization that has been working for years to stop this kind of crime and return the children to their parents. The base of the trafficking operation and my organization is both in Paris, although there are other locations worldwide.

"The man we're looking for is an evil, ruthless man named Thomas Gelding. I had the misfortune of killing his father, Geoffrey Gelding, for the same crime in Spain 10 years ago. Tom has followed his father's footsteps. He is completely absorbed by the thought of making as much money as he can in the shortest amount of time, and he is never satisfied. He never has enough. The more he has, the more he wants. Besides that, he enjoys his work. I was just telling Jen that Gelding never, ever, ever fights to wound or to play fair. He only fights to kill. And he is exceptionally good at it. He and Brian Quinn have been matching wits for years. Oh, by the way, Brian Quinn is my second in command in my organization. So--there. You're both up to speed on that little bit of history.

"Oh, and by the way, Gelding is looking very Italian these days. Dark brown curly hair, brown eyes, not actually bad looking, wears custom tailored Italian clothes. Usually something misleadingly casual, but always expensive. He does love good clothes, such as brown tweed pants, white linen shirt, brown Italian custom shoes. He doesn't usually wear a tie. He seems to find them bothersome. He usually carries a pair of Italian made sunglasses in his shirtpocket. His father always had his tailor make a pocket for his wand in the right pocket of his pants, down the outside of his leg. Gelding's wand is very short. It almost looks like a toy, but believe me when I tell you that it is his advantage, not ours. That thing is amazingly powerful for its diminuitive size, and he uses it with a fluid motion that most wizards work their whole lives to develop.

"If I were Gelding, I would be doing this to draw either me or Brian out into the open to kill us. To try to destroy my organization. Brian is the keystone, and without Brian, my organization could fall right now. It is a flaw. Not a well known one, but it is a flaw, nonetheless. If I were Gelding, I would be using the babies as bait to draw out either Brian, or me, or possibly even Khaat. And I would be looking to sell both babies as a package deal for a ridiculously outrageous sum of cash because they're Lupins. My guess is that if he does not have a buyer already, that he's planning on putting them up for auction very soon. Time is essential here, and this operation has to be as small as possible. A large scale assault will only spook Gelding, and we'll never find them.

"With Khaat unavailable, I have taken the responsibility of halting all arrest orders on Jen here, and I have offered her a full pardon in return for her assistance in getting Abbey and Dakota back to Khaat safe and sound. I have no doubt whatsoever that Khaat will sign the pardon in a fraction of a second if it brings her children home. Besides that, I need Jen. She's small, light, fast, a top fighter, and she knows Paris and its shady underworld like the back of her hand. Gelding knows me and would see me coming a mile away. I need her, Matt. I have no choice. Perhaps I should have come to you. You are Abbey's godfather, but as I said. You were in St. Mungos, and time was of the essence. So...are you with us?" he asked. "If so, I trust you can handle muggle weapons? Shall I open my artillery room for us, then? And I would suggest that we then start at my headquarters in Paris."