Intercept

Chapter Twelve: Bettina

Sophie had a car waiting for them when the train reached its stop in Malta. Bettina didn't try to escape or call for help. She was in a town where she knew no one and where guns seemed to be part of the casual dress code. As they walked to the car, Sophie smiled and greeted almost everyone, while Bettina took notice of how many of the locals that Sophie greeted actually carried weapons. It was a very high percentage. If she felt any astonishment at the number of weapons, she didn't let it show. She kept her gaze neutral and said nothing outside of some general pleasantries. It was so easy for a woman to disappear in the countryside, and she didn't for a second suspect that she might be any different.

Sophie drove, keeping the gun trained on Bettina. The drive was silent but short. The farm wasn't too far outside the town limits. The farmhouse itself was unremarkable and looked as though it had seen better days. The porch sagged, and there were missing shingles. It had a tired look, as though it too had given up. It was a hard and unforgiving life out in the country, but the unemployed here seemed to be better fed than they were in New York City. The thought of where her life could have ended up had her mother's refugee status been assigned to a small town like Malta, instead of New York City, sent a shiver down her spine. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. Life was too short to spend the present looking back and wondering what-if or what-might-have-been.

Sophie moved her along, pushing her towards the house and Bettina acquiesced, there was no point fighting it at this point. Sophie hadn't killed her yet and had kept her promise to take her to the farmhouse, so it was still possible that she might get out of this alive. Her treatment so far had provided her enough reason to believe that Ashama was connected in some manner to the shipping manifests. She just hoped she stayed alive long enough to find out how.

Sophie gave a short knock at the door and a woman answered quickly. The woman on the other side of the door had James Holden's hair, eyes, and a misplaced command of authority. Bettina surmised it must be Holden's other mother, Elise. If she was surprised to see them, she didn't let on and hustled them into the kitchen and off the porch. 

"Did anyone see you?", she asked Sophie, as she shut the door behind them.

Sophie kept walking as she answered. "Only everyone in town."

Sophie shoved Bettina into an oversized armchair in the living room, and with a sharp look, she shrugged off her cardigan, keeping her pistol fully visible. It was an antique Colt 380 Mustang, with a wooden stock. Bettina was impressed with the style that Sophie rocked. 

"The plan was to be discreet", said Elise, clearly annoyed. She sat across from Bettina and kept her eyes locked on hers.

"I changed the plan when this genius sat next to me. She says her name is Bettina. Started asking loads of questions about James.", said Sophie. 

Elise nodded her head. "There is a Bettina that works for Avasarala. I'll have to dig up a picture." She held a hand towards Bettina. "Give me your ID."

Bettina moved slightly to open her purse and both women started. Bettina raised her hands in surrender, not wanting to get accidentally shot. 

"Just hand over the purse", said Sophie in annoyance. She grabbed it roughly and dumped the contents onto a side table. Bettina cringed inside, as the contents of her life were so rudely turned upside down. Sophie rustled through the items until she located the wallet, and then pulled out the contents, throwing cards aside until she reached the plastic ID card. Sophie raised an eyebrow and gave Bettina a weary look.

"Don't they bother to train you at all?", she asked, with disgust. "Spycraft 101. Don't carry your real ID." She handed Elise the ID, who studied it more thoroughly.