A tense whisper echoed in the dimly lit alley, "We need to get out of here, now!"

"What's wrong?" Herman asked in a Normal voice, which carried in echo down the narrow dark path of brick.

"RUN!" Dallas Yelled.

Then Herman heard the barking. Dogs! an entire pack of them, ferel and vicious, ready to attack. Herman started to run, Dallas already a few steps in front of him. He could hear the dogs barking louder and louder on his tail. Up ahead was a chain link fence, seperating the alley from a main lighted street. Herman jumped and hit the fence right as Dallas was hopping over it. He scrambled up the fence, one of the dogs latching onto his pantleg, growling furiously. He shook the dog ofd him and made his jump, leaving the wild dogs behind.

Herman looked over to Dallas as they were catching their breath. "Got any more wonderful leads on this woman? Or do you just like to see an out of shape baker run for his life!?"

"Herm, buddy. You gotta relax." Dallas replied with a grin. "I'm an operative for the CIA, remember? I got this all under control. This is what I do."

"yeah well, I liked it better when I thought the stock market is what you did." Herman grumbled. "I still don't see why I had to come to Paris with you to track down this girl."

They began to walk down the street, heading towards the famous Champs-Elysees area of the city. Dallas pulled out a cigarette and lit it, puffing as they went.

"I told you on the plane ride over, you already are involved in this case. You know too much already, I cant just cut you loose now, that would be a serious violation of national security. My other option is to take you in, and then youll be with the CIA... they might let you go, they might kill you, its not for me to say."

"The CIA really does that!?" Asked Herman in disbeleif.

"Oh you don't know the half of it." Dallas shrugged it off with a wave of his hand. "Anyways, the woman that shot at us is named Trixie Pelican. She might sound like a dancer but shes quite deadly."

"Id say so." Herman agreed.

They turned the corner down another street, the early night life still very much alive. They passed a row of street vendors and Herman stopped in front of a man who had a table full of various breads for sale.

"Je Voudrais acheter une baguette s'il vous plait." Herman spoke french to the man.

The man held up his finger indicating 1 Euro, and Herman fetched his recently converted money to pay the man. He recieved a long loaf of bread resembling a baseball bat.

As they walked away, Dallas remarked, "I didnt know you spoke French."

"Oh yeah, I have to order ingrediants from France for the Bakery every now and then." Herman said. He was holding the baguette in his hands, admiring it. "Boy, you cant get quality like this in the states."

"Its a hard club of bread." Dallas rolled his eyes. "How is that going to help us?"

"You'd be surprised." Herman said.

*

Later that evening, the pair found themselves being led into the Lacrois Estate where they were to meet with Dallas's next lead... A woman by the name of Madame Lacrois. She had recently called Trixie Pelecan on the phone that she had left behind when she left the states. Judging by the elegance and sheer size of the home, anyone could conclude she had more than considerable wealth.

"Madame, your guests have arrived." A maid called into a nearby room.

"Zee Americans? Let them in." Madame's voice called back in a thick French accent.

the two of them nervously stepped into a fancy dining room. Seated at the far end of a 20 seat table, wearing an impressive white brimmed hat, sat Madame Lacrois. She was smoking a cigarette from a stick, and petting a grey cat.

"Please, sit down." She motioned to the table.

"Maam, Im afraid this isnt a social call." Dallas explained. "This is a matter of national security. We think you've been contacted by a certain individual who is wanted by your government and ours. All we need is a little information."

"You muzzst mean Trix Pelican, no?"

"The very same." Dallas confirmed. "We have her phone, we know she contacted you shortly before our run in with her at the airport. What is her relation to you?"

"You zee, Trix is my daughter, and It was right for you to come here."

Then Dallas felt something press into the back of his head, and the unmistakable sound of a pistol being cocked. A familiar female voice said "Dont move."

Then Madame was standing, her own gun drawn at them. "You zee Mistur Dallasz, It was right for you to come here, so we can kill you and clear our trackzz."

"You two are finished now!" Trixie added.

Then without warning, Dallas spun around with lightning speed, grabbing at the barrel of Trixie's pistol and aiming it away from him, forcing her to pull the trigger and empty the gun up into the ceiling.

Herman's eyes widened as he saw Madame Lacrois go to shoot Dallas. Without thinking, Herman chucked the baguette at her as if he was throwing a hatchet into a log. It smacked her hard enough to send her flying backwards, launching her gun into the air. Herman moved and caught it, pointing it back towards Trixie and Dallas.

"Here!" Herman yelled tossing Dallas the gun. He grabbed it with one hand. He turned and unloaded it on Trixie, killing her.

When the dust settled and the two men regained their composure, Dallas spoke. "That was a close one."

"Too close." Herman said.

Both of them went to check on Madame Lacrois, who had not moved since getting knocked down by the baguette. They leaned over her lifeless body, and Dallas took her pulse. He shook his head. "She's dead."

Herman picked up the baguette in awe.

"You killed her with bread, Herm." Dallas said.

"I told you this was quality stuff."

Upon looking around the room, Dallas stopped at an end table and picked up a piece of paper, studying it.

"I guess we can go home now, and I can get back to my bakery." Herman said.

"Not so fast." Dallas said, not taking his eyes off the paper. "There's a little map here. Its got notes scribbled all over it... one location marked is this place, another is way out in the Indian Ocean, and the third one..."

"yeah?" Herman asked.

"The third one is your bakery, Herm."

TO BE CONTINUED...