The waves lapped the mighty California Coast, their sound entering the dramatically sited villa as a low roar. Otherwise, all was silent, as the villa's occupier snoozed in a recliner. As the 'phone rang, she picked it up lazily.
"Andrea," she sighed gently, "I'm busy forever."
"Andrea," the familiar tones of the Green Man came down the line. "You are to fly to London. A 'plane is waiting for you."
"And after that Jewel heist in Sofia," the redhead laughed. "Those thieves were shocked to find me waiting at their hideout. What is it this time, boss?"
"Battle, murder and sudden death," the Green Man declared impressively. "The peace of the city is disturbed by fanatics. You are to fly to London and there receive further orders."
"Roger that," skipper, "the redhead laughed. "I'll pack the equaliser, just in case."
The Green Man was good as his word. A short drive to a private airstrip brought Andrea to a private jet. A masked man who did not speak flew the redhead across America at a pace she could barely comprehend. Before she had fully digested what had been said to her, the redhead was landing in London.