At the Wonkas’ factory:

Manouche *approaches factory, stands at door for a moment.  Opens box in her hand, looks inside, smiles.  Closes box, reaches out, rings bell.*  Willy, Madame, y'home, luvs?

Willy *rustling around, opens door while fixing hair, smiles*  Hello Manouche how are you?  Madame *comes to door tying robe around waist, grins, puts arm around Willy's waist*  Hello dear!

Manouche *surprised*  Blimey!  Sorry, mates, I reckon I came at an inopportune moment, as it were.  But ... well, if y'have a few minutes, I'd like t' show ye what I got fer Mr. Blake.  *smiles* Shall I come in?  I, ah, could come back later ...

Madame *laughs* no no no..come in come in.

Willy:  No worries ... you didnt interrupt anything ... what'd you get Blake?

Manouche *takes breath*  Right, here it is.  *Pulls out box, hands it to Willy*  It’s a watch fob, ‘specially made.  Ye both seen that pocket watch he has, he says it were handed down in his family.  Now his family’s all passed on, he’s th’ only one left.  I know th’ watch means a lot to him.  So I reckoned he’d like t’ have a fob fer it.  I had a jeweler make a chain an’ link from gold, an’ a heart from amber, an’ I had me old compass attached to th’ other end.  Now th’ tricky part, the rest of th’ chain, as it were … it’s made from braided hair, half his, half mine.  *grins*  I snipped jus’ enough from ‘im while he were sleepin’, he never woke up.  See, pickpocket skills an’ a light touch have advantages!  He’ll never miss it, he’s got glorious thick hair, he ‘as.  *beams*  Anyway, th’ rest o’ the trinket is solid gold.  Th’ compass is nothin’ special, more a sentimental addition than anythin’.  It does point north, I’ll give it that.  I got it when I first entered th’ pirate trade.  I had th’ jeweler engrave it fer this piece – Deux coeurs, une âme, notre monde … Two hearts, one soul, our world.  *smiles shyly*  Th’ bloody thing cost a bit, with th’ gold an’ th’ amber stone.  But I wanted t’ do somethin’ special, an’ he’s always needed a fob fer that watch.  *Looks at Willy and Madame anxiously*  D’ye think he’ll fancy it?  Be honest, mates.

Willy *looks fondly at it grinning, moves hands over it*  Manouche....its amazing.

Madame *touches the top of it*  oh Manouche ..... oh my ....

Manouche *smiles, sighs with relief*  Blimey, I'm so glad t' hear that!  I were afraid ... well, it might be a bit too dodgy.  Y'never know.  Y' made me feel much better about it, th' pair o' ye.  *gives them each big hug and kiss on cheek*  An' now, I hate t' run, luvs, but I want t' get this back to th' ship while Mr. Blake's out an' about, savvy?  I don't want him seein' it till the day.  Cheers, mates ...  *looks at their disheveled appearance, grins*  As ye were!  *dashes out door*

Willy:*smiles* no worries dear, its just perfect

Madame:*nods* we'll see you soon! *starts to walk back into factory, takes willy's hand and drags him inside*

A little later:

Blake *approaches factory, stands at door for a moment.  Takes out small box, looks inside, grins, reaches out, rings doorbell.*

Willy *answers door a bit aggravated, grunts, then turns to a fast grin when he sees Blake*  Hello Blake, what’s up?

Madame *comes to door running fingers through hair exasperated, gives a small smile*  Hello Blake how are ya?  *tightens robe*

Blake *tips hat slightly*  Willy, Madame, good t' see you both.  I ... I know this is a busy time for you …  *looks at their robes, reconsiders*  Ahh, well, anyway, I won’t keep you long!  I wanted to see what you think of my Valentine gift for Manouche.  If you can spare a minute …  *smiles*

Willy *smiles*  absolutely.

Madame *remembers Manouche's stop just a few minutes ago, beams*  any time in the world Blake ... what’d you get?

Blake:  Okay … I thought of lots of things I could get for her, but nothin’ seemed just right.  Then I thought about that ring she wears, the antique silver one.  She just about never takes it off, even though she lost the stone out of it.  I finally asked her about it, why she wants to wear this ring with the stone missin’.  She said she was in a bad situation years ago, her enemy had the upper hand and might’ve done her serious harm but for that stone.  She says it was a natural alexandrite, very rare an’ valuable.  She told her enemy about it an’ begged him to take it an’ spare her life.  His answer to that was, he figured he’d take it AND her life.  So she went into the fast talk.  *grins*  She told him th’ ring had a curse, that whoever took it an’ killed the person they took it off of was doomed to roam the earth through eternity as a displaced soul, wretched, hopeless with misery an’ remorse.  *Shakes head*  I don’t know where she gets this stuff!  She’s damn good at it.  Sure enough, he believed her.  He was so scared of th’ curse, he decided to take the stone only, so he managed to pop it out an’ leave th’ ring.  I asked how she knew he would fall for the story.  She said she’d seen him avoid walkin’ under a rope ladder on th’ ship an’ guessed he was superstitious, so she took a chance.  *laughs*  She’s mentioned replacin’ the stone in the ring someday, ‘cause she says it’s a lucky ring, that guy might’ve killed her if not for it.  Besides all that, she just plain loves it … it’s fine silver, an’ the design is unusual, French Celt.  So I decided to find a replacement stone for her.  I couldn’t possibly afford alexandrite, and even if I could, I wanted to get somethin’ different from what she’d had before.  So I got her birthstone, I bought an opal.  *Hands the small jewelry box to Madame*  Australian black opal, it’s a good one.  I know it would’ve been best if I could’ve had it mounted in th’ ring, but I couldn’t have gotten it from her without her gettin’ suspicious.  So I figured I’d give the opal to her an’ we’ll fix th’ ring later in the week.  I considered takin’ her to th’ gem dealers an’ pickin’ the opal, then droppin’ off the ring an’ havin’ it all done then an’ there … but I wanted my girl to have a surprise to open on Valentine’s Day.  *Shrugs, looks at them both*  Do you think she’ll like it?  Madame, I especially want your opinion.  Would you like a gift like this?  It’s … well, it’s been a long time since I bought a gift for a sweetheart.  *smiles*

Willy *beams remembering the necklace he bought Madame*  I must say Blake it's quite an eye catcher.

Madame *eyes light up*  Awww how precious!!!  Oh gosh Blake its PERFECT.  *hugs Blake*

Blake *laughs, hugs Madame back, kisses the top of her head*  I'm obliged!  I don't mind tellin' y' both, I been nervous as hell over this decision.  Kinda stupid, I know, actin' like a schoolboy.  *looks at opal again, smiles*  I better get this back under lock an' key, don't want anything to happen to it.  Thanks t' you both.  *holds out hand to Willy, then thinks better of it and grabs him in a big hug.  Releases him, beams at them both, and dashes out door, back to ship*

About a half hour later:

Manouche *approaches Wonka factory, shuffling several Valentines in her hands, frowning.  Reaches for doorbell ... then recalls Willy and Madame's appearance when she saw them earlier.  Smiles gently, brings hand back down.*  I reckon I can make th' decision about th' bloody card fer Mr. Blake on me onesies.  *Looks up at factory, murmurs*  Cheers, luvs.  *Kisses palm, presses it softly against their door, turns and heads back to ship.*

Later, on The Libertine Trailer:

Blake *arrives home, steps into cabin, stops, stares in amazement at the dozens of candles illuminating the little room, a beautiful dinner laid out on the table*  Wh-what’s all this …

Manouche *comes in, smiling*  Love, d’ye mind if we have an early Valentine’s Day dinner now, tonight?  I- I know I should’ve given notice o’ some sort.  But ye weren’t about … an’ … well, I don’t know, I jus’ have a feelin’ …  *shrugs*  Let's jus' say this feels right.  Reckon I jus’ don’t wanna wait.  *smiles*

Blake *smiles broadly, takes her in his arms*  Honey, you read my mind.  I didn’t want to wait, either.  Y’got me feelin’ like a kid at Christmas.  Hang it, it’s only a date on the calendar, right?  Let's do something else that night, an’ tonight’ll be our personal Valentine’s Day.

Manouche *nods, smiling*  Perfect.  An’ yer timin’ is impeccable, as always.  ‘Ave a seat, dinner is served.  *A little later, after dinner, Manouche pours more wine for them both, looks at him lovingly.*

Blake:  You outdid yourself, that was superb.  But I still want to take you out on Valentine’s Day proper.  I’m sure Marijke could squeeze us in at Chez Roux.

Manouche:  This short a notice fer Valentine’s Day dinner?  S’doubtful, love.  It don’t matter, I enjoy th’ chance t’ cook somethin’ special once in awhile.  Never got t’ do it much when I were alone.  I had a grand time cookin’ fer Willy an’ Madame over th’ holidays.  *Looks at empty dishes, smiles*  I reckon I still ‘ave a flair, as it were, from th’ looks o’ things.  I don’t reckon we’ll have much in th’ way o’ leftovers.  ‘Course, we do still ‘ave dessert.

Blake *grins, stands up, comes over to her*  I think that can wait a little bit.  C’mon over here.  *Takes her hand, brings her over to small sofa, they sit close together*  I’m glad you wanted to move up the day.  I’ve been dyin’ to give this to you …  *Takes jewelry box from pocket*

Manouche *eyes wide*  Oh, love … I ‘ave somethin’ fer you, as well.  *Jumps up, goes to hutch, opens drawer, takes out box, returns to sofa.  Holds box out to him*  Go on, you first.

Blake:  No, no, YOU go first.

Manouche:  No, you. I insist …

Blake:  Okay, this could go on for awhile!  How ‘bout we open ‘em at the same time?

Manouche *nods, smiles.  They open the boxes, gasp, take out the gifts, look at each other with similar expressions of surprise and confusion.  She looks at him, concerned*  D-don’t ye like it, love?  It’s a fob f’ yer watch.  I’ll grant, it’s a bit squirrelly, with th’ compass, an’ th’ braid … blimey, y’ think it’s silly, don’t ye?

Blake *quickly*  No, no!  Honey, I love it.  It’s just that …  *looks at her*  … well, I didn’t have enough money to buy your gift, so … I sold my watch.

Manouche *mouth drops open*  Oh, bloody ‘ell … what were ye thinkin'?  It’s been in yer family all this time …

Blake:  I didn’t mind at all.  My family’s gone.  You’re my family now.  *Takes her in his arms, kisses her*  I wanted to do somethin’ a little different, so I got you your birthstone.  *Nods toward box in her hand*  It’s an Australian black opal.  It’s … it’s not alexandrite, but I figured it’d look nice in that ring of yours.  We can take it to the jeweler tomorrow an’ have it mounted …  *Voice trails off at her expression*  What’s wrong?  Don’t you like it?

Manouche:  It’s th’ most beautiful thing I ever saw.  I love it, much more’n I ever cared fer that bloody alexandrite.  Problem is … I sold th’ ring, fer the extra quid to pay fer your gift.  *Smiles at him*  Y’ realize what we ‘ave here …

Blake *shakes head*  Gift o’ the Magi.  Yeah, I know th’ story.  *Examines fob, reads engraving on compass, smiles gently*  "Two hearts, one soul, our world" … your old compass.  An’ you made a chain of your hair …

Manouche:  Our hair.  *laughs as he quickly brings hand up to his hair, surprised*  No worries, I didn’t take much!  Yer a sound sleeper, y’are, anyone ever tell ye that?  *pauses*  So what now?  I can’t take th’ fob back, it’s too personal-like …

Blake *tightens hold on fob*  This stays with me, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.  It’s the best gift I ever received in my life.  I’ll get another watch sometime.  Look, I can still wear it.  *Places it in pocket with outer piece hanging outside*  There, no one would guess there’s no watch attached.  Now the opal, we could take that back.

Manouche:  Not a chance, Mr. William Blake.  *Looks at opal, smiling dreamily*  I could ‘ave it made into a pendant.

Blake:  I have another idea.  *Stands, goes into bedroom, returns, sits down next to her, shows her a silver ring*  My mother gave this to my dad when they got engaged.  I know it’s a men’s ring, but it’s not as heavy as some men’s rings, an’ it’s a pretty design.  I’d always intended to have it sized an’ wear it, but I never got around to it.  We could have it sized for you, an’ replace the topaz in it with your opal.  *Places it in her palm, takes her hand in both of his*  Don’t do it if y’don’t like the looks of it.  But if you honestly do like it … well, I’d much rather see it on you, with your birthstone, than sittin’ in storage, or wearin’ it myself.

Manouche *smiles, tears in her eyes*  I’ll cherish this’un even more than th’ old ring, love.  We have an accord.  *throws arms around him, kisses him.  They take up their glasses and toast, drink, gaze deep into each others’ eyes.*  I ‘ave a song fer ye, too.

Blake:  There y’ go, the best things in life are free.  So, a song, dessert … *grins* … an’ dessert.  Still a lot to cover, it’s gettin’ late …

Manouche *laughs*  Y’don’t ‘ave a watch, how do y’know?  Time’s a state o’ mind, love.  T’ my way o’ thinkin’ it’s early.  Shank o’ the evenin’.

Blake:  Good point!  *takes her glass, steps over to table, fills their glasses with last of the wine, returns to sofa, hands her her glass*  To the shank o’ the evenin’, then, my funny Valentine.

Manouche *murmurs*  Deux coeurs, une âme, notre monde.

Later that night, at the Wonkas’ factory:

*Late night, someone knocks impatiently at the Wonka's factory door. Madame walks into main hall, to door*  Hold on, hold on, I'm coming.  *Opens door, sees a man in black, his face obscured by high coat collar.  She steps back a little, a bit of fear jumps up.  Clears throat*  Can I help you?

Man: *holds pistol in Madame's face*  You can help me ... and yourself ... by doing what I tell you.

Madame *puts hands up in front of her, small voice*  Okay...

Man:*cocks gun, motions her outside*  You scream, and you take one shot to the face, Mrs. Wonka.

Madame: *swallows hard, steps outside, sees a black car out front, tears up*

Man: *grabs the back of her neck, pistol at her back, pushes her toward car, opens one of the rear doors and shoves her in.  Back of car is sealed off from front seat, like old police cars; doors lock from outside.  Man locks her in, opens driver’s side door, gets behind wheel, starts ignition.  Madame looks at factory as they pull away, begins to cry*

*About ten minutes later in the factory, Willy looks up from his work in his office*  Hmmm, I haven’t heard from love for a while.  Wonder what she’s up to.  *Enters her office, sees she’s not there, grows concerned.  Goes to chocolate room, walks up to an oompa loompa*  Have you seen Madame?

Oompa *points to the front of the factory*

Willy *looks where the oompa is pointing*  She went to the front door?  Why?  Someone was knocking?  *Oompa nods.*  I didn’t hear anything.  Wonder why they didn’t ring?  *Oompa shrugs.  Willy sighs, heads to front door, walks into main hall sees no sign of Madame, except for … walks faster, turns into a run to door, sees Madame's hat lying on floor, picks up, looks at it*  Oh, god.  *Notices an envelope on the floor. Picks it up, opens it, reads, hands trembling violently:

My dearest Green Hornet,

You should really take more care with your precious possessions.  You have no idea how quickly they can vanish.  By now you must be aware that your lady wife is not to be found.  Though she be no sinner, her screams prove quite entertaining.  While I have no desire to actually kill a non-sinner, I'm afraid Marchand would not say the same, were I to deliver her to him.  She'd make an excellent replacement as far as the heart and soul.  With her, and the witch blood of the savage brat, all he would need would be the Gypsy.  If you want your Lady back safe and sound, you'll deal with me.  I want the gypsy tramp, as well as that whore Kat.  You'll deliver me both, or else your lovely wife meets my master.  If you agree to my terms, lead both north out of town.  I'll be watching to be sure no one follows.  Do not cross me, I won't hesitate to kill her.

Warmest regards,

Nate

*Before Willy can react, doorbell rings.  Opens door, sees Manouche, trembling, tears in her eyes.*  Willy, mate?  I came as soon as I could.  Mr. Blake’s asleep, I had one o’ them dreams again, an' I woke up thinkin' of Madame.  Please tell me it’s rubbish.  *Looks at his face, starts to weep*  By th’ powers, dear brother, tell me what happened.

Willy *tears in eyes, drops to floor, the note falls, covers face with hands*  Sh ... she's ... *takes hands down, eyes seem to turn red with anger, stands up*  He took my wife ..... *looks at Manouche*  I'll kill him.

Manouche *looks up at him, eyes filled with fear.  Glances over, sees paper on floor, grabs it, reads note, face pale*  N-Nate??  B-but how can that be?  He’s … he’s locked up.  Blimey, Portsmith’d never let ‘im escape.  I mean – I … *remembers vision*  Ohhh, god in heaven … Nate … MARCHAND.  *looks at Willy, grabs his arm*  Ye’ve GOT t’ listen to me.  I told ye when I were in Fiji, I ‘ad a vision o’ Nate?  That is, it weren’t Nate, it were … well, I’ll get t’ that.  He told me Nate could escape if he wanted, but didn’t dare, ‘cause this Marchand would be waitin’ fer him.  Marchand, he’s a Necromancer.  From all I know, an’ from the sound o’ this – *holds up note* – he needs three things fer immortality, heart, soul … blood.  He's wantin’ my blood, Kat’s heart … an’ th’ soul comes from a baby, or child.  W-Willy, I don’t know what t’ say … I’d surrender meself in a heartbeat t’ get Madame back, y’know I would.  B-but he wants Kat, too … I can’t speak fer Kat, I don’t even know where she is.  *pauses, tears in her eyes*  I’ll do anything y’ say, me brother, I swear on pain o' death, we'll get Madame back safe an' sound.  I -- I'll go back t' them drugs if need be.  I'll offer meself up t' Nate, maybe he'd accept that an' let 'er go.  *Releases Willy’s hand, leans forward, head bowed, hands to her face*  Usin’ you an’ Madame t’ get to me … I’ll never forgive meself … y’must be wishin’ ye never laid eyes on me. *sobs, her shoulders shaking*

Willy *calms for a minute, lifts her head up*  Manouche, never on my life would I look at you as that.  It's not your fault he took her.  You know it’s not.  And I’ll be damned if you ever go back on that medicine OR surrender yourself.  You WILL be safe.  Do you understand me?  Nothing is going to happen to anyone else with Nate.  This is it.  Once I find Madame, I'll find him too.  I'm fed up.  Portsmith has done nothing to stop him.  He's gone over the limit now.  No one messes with my wife ...  *hands clench in anger, looks at Manouche, who’s looking back down at the ground; lifts her head back up, smiles*  ... or my little sister.  *stands up, face red with anger*  We have to find her.  He won’t harm her in ANY way.  *starts walking out of the factory, hand over gun in coat pocket*

Manouche *wipes tears away, jumps up, follows him*  Willy, wait!  *Catches up to him, throws arms around him*  Bless ye, me brother.  If yer sure that’s how y’ feel, then … well, I have a coupla ideas, I learned valuable lessons in Fiji about listenin’ t’ me instincts.  It’s part o’ th’ power o’ me blood, apparently … it’s part o’ what makes it desirable t’ Marchand.  *shivers*  So hear me out.  Remember, th’ one we’re really worried about is otherworldly.  Y’can put a bullet in Nate, but that won’t work on Marchand.  So my feelin’ is, let’s try t’ find Kat.  She were with Refugee, y’know how helpful he can be.  We haven’t much choice, luv, Nate said he’ll be watchin’.  If he sees us comin’ without Kat, he may hurt Madame.  We can’t take that chance.  Savvy?  Please, mate ... there must be a good reason that the voice inside is tellin' me this is what we should do.

Willy *glares at the thought of Madame being harmed, emotion swells up, tears in eyes, wipes them away quickly, pretends to be strong*  What are your plans?  I do care about Marchand and all … but I REALLY want to put a bullet through Nate's head so …

Manouche:  I hope y’get yer chance, luv, I’d like t’ see that meself.  Bloody ‘ell, I could kill ‘im fer this an’ not bat an eye.  We do need t’ care about Marchand, though.  He can always find another Nate t’ do his biddin’.  If we don’t do somethin’ about him, this could keep happenin’.  *stops talking, notices tears Willy tried to hide; stretches up, kisses his cheek.*  Steady, brother, we’ll get Madame back, I promise.  *They walk all over town, searching for Kat, checking in Chez Roux, going to the ships, calling her name, calling Refugee, going into the woods, no luck.  They return to town center and drop down on bench wearily.

Manouche:  I can’t believe what I’m about t’ suggest, an’ I know ye’ll think I’m daft, but … I think we should go t’ Portsmith.  I know, I know … *holds up hands as he starts to protest* … but it may serve us well.  Fer one thing, Nate’s escaped. Portsmith’ll go ballistic over that.  I feel sorry fer whoever were in charge at th’ time.  Fer another thing, she’s more likely t’ offer top services to help you an’ Madame.  You’re important citizens.  If th’ Wonkas come t’ her fer help … by th’ powers, her officers damn well better go in with guns blazin’, an’ Portsmith bloody well knows it.  Use ‘em, mate, make ‘em do their job.  *Stands up, holds out hand to Willy, speaks gently*  C’mon, luv.  *Willy looks at her despairingly, then nods, takes her hand, rises. They slowly walk to Portsmith’s office.*

At Portsmith’s office:

*It is ominously dark and quiet, but they find Portsmith at her desk.  She has filled two waste paper baskets to the rim with shredded paper.  There are only two small pieces of paper on her desk:  one is a hasty scribbled almost unintelligible note, and the other is a ticket for Tortuga.  Her feather hat lies abandoned in a corner, the feather broken and limp.  More paper is scattered around the floor, and in the fireplace you can see the badly burned remains of a leather bound book.*

Portsmith:  Can't you see I am occupied?  *looks up and sees Willy and Manouche, listens to their tale without a word.*  What a pair!  So, our local hero together with the local queen of pickpockets requesting help from Security to find some necromancer and his aide.  *Looks at Willy, swallows her words just in time.*  Can't do much, I am here on my own as you see.  It seems that neither Constable Crane nor Agent Brasco can be relied upon, so I fired them both for good.  Of the whereabouts of Inspector Abberline, I know nothing, he left me a confusing note with something about Kat and a child in danger.  Haven't heard of him since that.  Dean Corso is just a petty thieving book detective.  Lieutenant Victor is on a mission.  Hanson and Colonel Depp, the only efficient officers, are occupied elsewhere and Colonel is recovering from her last case.  So there is just me.  You all have done your best to keep me in the dark and you have been double-dealing behind my back.  My prison seems to be like a hotel, with prisoners and all kinds of almost innocent bystander coming and going like guests.  So what do you want me to do?  Grab my sword and fight some magician of whose whereabouts we don't know?  Go on a witch hunt with a faked grimoire?  *Looks at ticket and thinks with regret that she should have booked it earlier*  Tortuga, here I come! *

Manouche:  B-blimey, Commander ... there must be SOMETHIN' y'can do. *brings forth note*  Look, th' bastard even went so far as t' leave a note.  I- I know we've 'ad our differences ... I rather thought we could get past all that.  Commander, it's MADAME we're talkin' about.  If y' tell yer staff she's in trouble, whether y'fired 'em or not, they'd rally.  They all care fer Madame.  Donnie, Ichy, Hanson, Colonel, the lot.  Please, Commander, reconsider.

Outside:

*Refugee doesn't stop and Abberline looks at it with a sudden interest.*  A dog?  Or a wolf?  I know that one.  This is the one I saw with Kat and Manouche in the vision.  Are they with you?  *quickly he steps to Refugee who turns towards the dark alley.  Abberline stops and hesitates, talks to Refugee.*  She doesn't want to see me, I know ... She doesn't want to talk to me, and Commander told me to stop investigating this.  But I am past caring, there is a child involved in this and I can't let that happen.  I was once married ... and going to be a father ... Please, lead me to Kat, if she wants to hit me with her shovel once again, let her do it, and let Commander fire me, I must do something.

Kat *seeing Abberline distracted by Refugee, keeping close to the wall, sneaks forward thinking maybe she should just make a break for it.  Hearing Abberline's words, hesitates.*  If I 'ad a shovel I'd be for using it now.  Care about children do you, Inspector?  Exactly whose children would they be that it would cause ye such worry?  Your own?  Surely, someone else's possibly.  That would depend on who their parents were, wouldn't it.  Tell me Inspector!  Just how deep would your caring run if I tell you this child is a pirate's git, eh?  I see.  That's what I thought.  Now if ye'll be kindly gettin' outa my way.  I have important things to attend to!!

Abberline:  I understand you are deeply suspicious of me.  I am not Portsmith.  I work with Portsmith but I don't share all her views, she does not even know I am trying to investigate this.  It is not a matter of whose child it is.  Any child in danger is important.  And you know that I have no children of my own since what happened ...  *he stops*  There isn't any way I can convince you, is there?  But would you yourself endanger a child's life by being stubborn?  *looks at Refugee*  Don't you trust even him?  It was he who led me to you. 

*Kat stops dead in her tracks, shivers, flinching*  Endanger his life??  You know nothing of what yer saying.  It's been my mistakes that have put his life at risk.  I bear the blame.  If he dies, my life has been for naught.  *looks at Refugee*  What if he's wrong .... what if  ..... *considering the options* … I'm wrong, yet again?  *trembles, turns and studies Abberline*  Very well, Inspector.  What's in your mind?

Abberline:  Refugee is waiting, isn't he?  You trust him, and he seems to trust me.  I may know nothing of what you have done, I don't know who is the one you are looking for but I know we are just wasting time here standing like two old suspicious fools.  Can he lead the way?

Back in Portsmith’s office:

Colonel *overhears, walks into Commander's office*  I'll gladly go!  Who cares about rest, I'm fine.  I'll do what I can.  I'm strong and determined.  I'll give my life for Madame if necessary.  Besides, I have a plan, just hoping you'll listen and it'll work.

Manouche:  Bloody ‘ell, Portsmith … *looks at Colonel*  Colonel, mate, yer braver’n brave, an’ that’s an understatement.  But yer recoverin’ from a horrible experience.  That weren’t fair, y’shouldn’t have had t’ go through that, luv.  I couldn’t ‘ave it on me conscience if ye were t’ get hurt tryin’ to help us at this time, so soon after.  Y’need to let yerself heal, mate.  Live to fight another day, savvy?  We'll no doubt need ye later, so take care, rest up.  *To Willy*  C’mon, mate, I ‘ave an idea.  *She and Willy leave Portsmith’s office, step out into street*  Now, th’ thing is, we ‘ave to …… *Speech is cut off as searing pain hits her*  Oh GOD, Willy, help me … *reaches out to him before she drops to pavement.*

Willy *drops down with her, holds her up*  Manouche what is it?

Manouche: I’m—I’m s-seein’ somethin’ … oh, my dear Madame.  It’s – it’s that house, mate, that one outside o’ town.  On th’ north road, jus’ like Nate said in th’ note.  He has her there.  We – we can’t wait fer Kat, luv, we’ll have t’ take our chances.  There ain’t time t’ make a plan, we need t’ go NOW.  *Stands up shakily, pain subsides a little, she nods at an anxious Willy, who’s holding her arm.*  I’m sound, brother, let’s get to that bloody house.  *They take the road out of Deppville on foot, head for the old abandoned house.  Stand before it, looking up at it, see no signs of life.  Look at each other, deep fear in their eyes.*

Manouche *takes Willy’s hand, squeezes it*  I love ye, brother.  C’mon, let’s get our Madame.  *They enter house cautiously, total darkness, the squeaky door and floorboards wearing on their nerves.  Glance around, not sure where to go, then Manouche notices something*  Th-there, mate.  *Points to dim light coming from a room in back.  They creep toward it quietly, notice door is ajar.  They stand back, Manouche presses lightly on door, it slowly swings open.  They wait for response, hear and see nothing.  Then they hear a very soft, muffled voice, almost inaudible. Manouche brings hand to her head at another throb of pain, curses under her breath, leans forward, looks in room.  Sees Madame, gagged, tied to chair, eyes wide, filled with terror.  Manouche pats Willy’s arm, motions him to follow, they rush to Madame to untie her.*

Willy:  KIMBERLEY!!!  *runs over and begins to undo the ties, notices Madame in tears*

Manouche *sobs*  Oh, my dear luv.  *Not sure whether to untie her or hug her first, tries to do everything at once, hugs her tightly.  Doesn’t notice that Madame is trying desperately to warn them of someone behind them.*

Nate *steps from behind door, holding gun on them; they put their hands up*  It’s amazing how well this trick works.  We see it in the movies over and over, and it never loses its effectiveness.  Put a little bait out, and the vermin come scurrying.  *Laughs, then scowls at Willy and Manouche*  You’re one short, aren’t you?  I asked for Kat, too.

Manouche *trembling*  We-we couldn’t find her.  We tried.  Ye have me, let these two go.  C’mon, it’s bettern’ nothin’, an’ y’bloody well know it.

Willy: *Glaring, holding breath, hands clenched, says nothing, stays close to Madame*

Nate:  So you, with all your visions and magic, couldn’t find one crazy bitch with a shovel?  Pathetic.  I’m beginning to wonder if your blood is worth it after all, if you can’t do any better than that.  But that’s not my call.  That’s up to my solicitor, as it were. *Moves close to them, looks at Manouche*  I believe you know his name?  Marchand.  You had a little chat with him in Fiji, didn’t you?  I think he was pretty impressed with your tricks there.  But you’re far from Fiji now, Gypsy scum, far from anyone who can help you.  *Cocks gun*  Lose the weapons, bitch.

Manouche *reluctantly drops pistol and sword to floor, puts hands back up.  Nate motions Willy and Madame aside, moves to Manouche, searches her, finds no more weapons, shoves her back, keeping gun on them all.  Willy wants to grin at Nate, but doesn’t, remains glaring and silent*

Nate:  Nobody’s going anywhere, savvy?  Marchand wants the Gypsy scum and the whore Kat, and nobody leaves until I deliver both.  I’m sure someone in town will arrange it.  Maybe that nice young man of yours, that Blake.  I bet he won’t take this lying down.  I suppose I’ll need to send out another note.  Perhaps this time I should send proof that I mean business.  That pretty ring you're wearing with your finger still inside it should prove most effective.  Don’t you think?  *sneers*

Manouche *catch in her voice, shaking with fury*  By th’ bloody powers, don’t ye DARE mess with him …

Nate:  Shut up.  You had your chance to do things right, now all you’ve done is bring both your friends here.  Just as well.  *Waves gun toward Madame*  Her screams were becoming most tiresome.  Good to add some new voices to the mix.

Willy *anger overwhelms him, loses it, takes a step foward*  YOU'LL NEVER HEAR OF HER SCREAMS EVER AGAIN, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!

Nate *points gun at him*  Back where you were, hero.  Or I'll shoot your Lady, then you, so you can watch.  *smiles*  Here are your adoring little strumpets, Green Hornet … the two women who depend on you, and look at you.  Not a thing you can do for either of them.  Just isn’t your day, is it?  *Glances over, sees Manouche reaching into her coat*  Get your hands back up where I can see them, Gypsy trash.

Manouche: Y’searched me yerself, y’bastard.  All I’m goin’ fer is me ciggies.  *Removes pack, book of matches, holds out for Nate to see, eyebrows raised.*

Nate:  Fine, go ahead.  You can all have one, if you like.  Enjoy … then we’ll get down to business.  It’s rather boring here … I’m happy to have two new specimens to experiment with.  *laughs*

Manouche *hands shaking, passes cigarettes to Willy and Madame; they decline.  Manouche takes one, puts it in her mouth, holds matches*  Nate, ol’ thing ... do ye ‘appen t’ have any trainin’ in chemistry?

Nate *frowns*  What’re you talking about?

Manouche:  Jus’ askin’.  Ever put mercury fulminate an’ picric acid together?  On their own, each is harmless as tap water. But together, once they hit somethin’ … aye, makes fer a pure dead brilliant explosion.  Don’t need much of ‘em, either.  Jus’ a smidge of each, as it were.  Bloody amazin’.

Madame *tears rolling down her face, Willy hugs her close*  Oh, Manouche, please be quiet …

Nate *sharply, turns to her*  Shut the hell up, bitch!

Manouche *deadly quiet voice* Don’t ever talk t’ her like that again.  *Blows through cigarette, which she had hollowed out and placed in the pack weeks ago, turning it into a small straw.  Sends a capsule flying that she’d taken from a pocket seconds before and placed in her mouth without Nate seeing – a capsule she’d prepared when inspired by Willy’s explosive candies, filling it with mercury fulminate and picric acid. Capsule hits floor, explodes, knocking Nate back, filling room with smoke and debris. Yells out to Willy through confusion*  WILLY, YER GUN, MATE!!

Willy *grabs gun out of coat, points it directly at Nate*

Madame:  WILLY DONT KILL HIM ...HE'S NOT WORTH IT

Willy: *glances at Madame fast, tears in eyes at her sight, sees Nate begin to get up out of the corner of his eye, turns back and fires the gun fast, shooting Nate in the upper leg.  Watches Nate fall to the ground, then runs over to the crying Madame, hugs her tight*

Manouche *staggering to feet*  Well done, brother, that’ll do!  Don't need t' kill 'im, jus' put 'im outta commission, is all.

Madame *still tied, leans head against Willy, cries*

Willy *crying*  Baby I love you.....god I love you...

Madame *stutters* I...lo...love you t...t..too

Willy *lifts her chin, smiles through the tears, kisses her forehead, then quickly unties her*  COME ON, MANOUCHE LET'S GO!!!

Manouche:  Right behind ye both, luvs.  RUN, DON’T LOOK BACK.

Willy *helps Madame up, picks her up, runs out of room.*  LET'S GO, MANOUCHE!*  They run from the house as fast as they can, keep running, don’t look back.  They reach the city limits, stop to catch their breath, dive into each others’ arms, kiss passionately.  Release from their embrace, tears running down their faces, laughing and crying all at once*

Madame:  Oh Willy, you were magnificent!  Manouche, wasn’t he …. *looks behind them*  Manouche?

*She and Willy look at each other, then back down road; fear growing, they both call her name*  MANOUCHE …

*Back at house … *

Manouche *dazed from explosion, hears their voices, not sure whether it’s really them or she’s just hearing them in her head.  Nods, satisfied, closes eyes, whispers*  Thank th’ stars.  Stay safe, dear family.  *Winces as Nate’s large fingers clamp tighter into her upper arm.  He spins her around, slaps her hard across the face.*

Nate:  Damn you.  By the time I'm through with you, you won't be able to play your MacGyver tricks.  Marchand’ll have my head if I screw this up again.  We can’t stay here, they'll come for you.  *Grabs her hair, pulls her face close to his, sneers*  We’ll have to find a new honeymoon cottage, darling.  Don’t worry, we’ll be able to contact Mr. Blake just as easily from another location.  *Ties her hands together, drags her through house, his free hand clutching at the wound in his leg from Willy’s gun.  Takes her out back to same car he used to kidnap Madame, throws her in back, locks her in.  Climbs in behind wheel, cursing at the wound.  Starts car, drives off to undisclosed destination.*