Not much to say to start off with. I hope you enjoy another chapter of AEPR!

CHAPTER TWO

Benu strode through the dimly lit museum corridors with light feet, a triumphant smirk hidden behind her balaclava though the expression still showed in her eyes. Everything had gone exactly as planned. She had Dear Mister R.H.'s prized children's trading card and ten million dollars was right around the corner. Utterly humiliating him had only been a plus.

The scene played out in her mind like a movie reel and her smirk grew as she plucked tonight's bargaining chip from her jacket's inner pocket. The Winged Dragon of Ra… She effortlessly rolled the card between her fingers, minutely denying the near electrifying feeling that surged through her and the slight unease that it brought. Her favourite image right now had to be the sheer terror that had flashed through The R.H.'s eyes when she'd first inched that flame towards his precious card.

The soft echo of leather shoes upon marble met her ears. A security guard, no doubt. Maybe three corridors away. Benu bit back a chuckle, considering the card she held was clear proof that the bumbling idiot wasn't doing his job right. She was thankful for her photographic memory, for she was able to recall the blueprints of this place with ease, having viewed it this afternoon when briefing her team.

Benu slipped Ra into its former resting place, then slinked down a side passage and down narrow stairs, not at all surprised when she caught sight of a door below an exit sign that briefly reminded her of a lighthouse, the object casting its green glow upon the walls and slicing away the darkness. She tapped an electronic pad which in turn emitted a dull beep, though not loud enough for the guard to hear. A sly smirk snaked across her lips as she inched the door open and slid out into a side alley, where a black four wheel drive rumbled quietly.

Her soft steps upon the concrete were inaudible over the groans of the vehicle as she stepped around it and slid into the front passenger seat, softly clicking the door shut behind her. Her hazel eyes met another of the same hue as she sent a curt nod Sahin's way, before wrapping her seat belt around her slender frame. A second later, the growl of the engine sliced through the night as the vessel rolled into motion.

Benu felt a tap on her shoulder then. She twisted her hips to be met by an unmasked Hibou, a fairly attractive man in his thirties with dark brown hair, olive skin and striking, sky blue eyes. "It's for you," he murmured in a thick Greek accent. The sour look upon his face was enough to know who was on the other line. Her stomach squirmed as she took the device from her colleague, exhaling deeply through her nose in a semi-successful attempt to expel a sickening unease that only the man on the other line could bring forth. She refused to reveal her fear to her team. They couldn't think their first in command was intimidated by Master Salim, even though it was no secret that they were themselves, along with every other Cobra employee.

"Benu speaking, Sir," she stated slowly through the speaker, carefully masking the unease from her voice and her body language.

"Status report," a grated voice hissed through the line.

"Ten million dollars is yours," she spoke in a briefing, to-the-point manner. "And the artifact and its powers are very real."

"Excellent." A chilling chuckle met her ears. "You left the letter pertaining to the exchange of the card and the cash?"

"Of course, Sir." She couldn't help but bite back a laugh, recalling the lovely little side note she'd left for Mr Really Hot.

"You've done well, My Heiress." Even his praises came out eerily daunting. "I expect another call after the exchange is made, at your first given opportunity. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, Sir."

The phone line went dead, leaving Benu to release the breath she'd failed to realise she was holding. Her hazel eyes, their true emerald shade hidden behind contacts, looked out the passenger window. She minutely noted her reflection upon the heavily tinted glass, reminding her of the mask that still covered her face.

Exhaling deeply, she raised slender fingers to the zip of her leather jacket, inching it down to reveal the edge of her balaclava. She slid her fingers beneath the end of the mask, fingertips brushing against her collar bone as she removed the item, dumping it on her lap. A soft sigh left her lips as she reclined against the head rest, enjoying the cool air con breeze that fanned across her skin.

"And a face that looks like Helen of Troy's is revealed," Sahin chuckled, eyes on the road as he made a left turn down a quiet street.

She huffed in amusement. "You flatter me, Uncle."

Benu watched the road that rolled out before them, the city lights dancing across her olive complexion, made so thanks to her mother's French and Greek ethnic backgrounds. Her profession meant she never had the chance to receive a sun-kissed glow.

Sahin took a right onto a wider street that, during the day, would've been clogged up with traffic. However, in the early hours of a Monday morning, only a handful of cars occupied the Parisian street, unaware of the illegal antics that had just ensued at the famous Louvre Museum.

"That R.H. guy was pretty laughable," Hibou spoke up in the back seat, "don't you think, Benu?"

"Claus, how many times do I have to tell you?" Her tone was light-hearted; a seldom seen side of her that only revealed itself in the presence of her team, for Sahin, Hibou and Aleto were the closest things she actually had to friends. "When the masks come off, we address each other by name. And when they're on, the code names come out to play." She laughed dryly, threading her fingers together behind her head. "After all, if you three forget to address me by my real name, I'll never hear it… and I'd probably forget what it is myself."

"Sorry, Mirah." Claus laughed sheepishly. "I swear one of these days it'll stick."

"Hey, it's fine." Mirah waived her hand dismissively. "We seem to be in these masks more often than not." She exhaled slowly as she stared out the passenger window. "And, Claus."

"Yes, Mirah?"

"Don't underestimate The R.H." Her eyes narrowed on nothing in particular. "You saw what that fancy stick of his can do. Now that he knows what he's up against, he'll be a little less cocky and a little more careful when he deals with us."

"He was a lot younger than I expected," Alexander, codename Aleto, voiced in the back seat beside Claus.

"I agree, Alex," Mirah addressed the man by his nickname, "but then again, I'm eighteen and proof that, given the right circumstances, one can achieve a lot in their young life." She snorted. "And with a mind-controlling stick, I'd say The R.H. has been given the right circumstances."

Alex huffed, amused. "Then perhaps the dreaded R.H. has finally met his match."

A sly smirk flirted across Mirah's lips as mirth danced in her eyes. "And perhaps I've met mine."

The low drones of early morning traffic were distant to Benu's ears as the strong scent of coffee enveloped the room, tickling her nose and intoxicating her senses. The establishment didn't open until 7 AM, with the only other inhabitants being the kitchen staff, who were out back prepping for another long day.

Café de Flore was a bustling, successful business that served as one of many seemingly innocent establishments around Europe that were actually owned by The Cobras. They were a cunning way to filter any illegal earnings into Master Salim's back account. And in this case, the venue also proved to be quite handy for 'business meetings', particularly as Benu could still wear her balaclava, concealing her identity without raising any red flags from the staff, who were in actual fact some of her colleagues.

Benu slid her leather jacket above her wrist, revealing a complex, ebony watch that read 5:57 AM in bold numbers. She slid her balaclava half way up her face, exposing her lips so she could gulp down the last of her black coffee. A moment later, the mask was down once more, tucked beneath her leather jacket.

The mechanical roar of a motorbike pierced through the dull hums of traffic. A knowing smirk slid onto her lips as she spared another glance at her watch. 5:58 AM. The roar eased to a rumble right outside the premises, before dying completely. Benu's feet nonchalantly met the table as she reclined in her chair, watching the entrance intently.

5:59 AM. The blinds were closed, casting away the striking display of colours that currently set the early morning sky aglow. But she perceived the soft sound of calculated footfalls drawing near, before stopping just beyond the door.

6:00 AM. The door swung open, a jingle of the bell above it signalling a very special customer. Behind her mask, Benu couldn't suppress the excited smirk that no doubt showed in her eyes. Aleto's words rung through her mind. "Then perhaps the dreaded R.H. has finally met his match." That was a given… And if he was hers- Oh this was going to be fun!

In stepped none other than Mr Really Hot. The mauve cloak from their previous meeting was nowhere in sight, leaving her to examine – not to mention enjoy – his chosen attire: black cargo pants, leather shoes of the same colour and a midriff revealing lavender shirt with two gold chains along the front and a hood along the back. Gold bands adorned the man's wrists, arms and neck. The Millennium Rod tucked under his belt didn't go unnoticed, nor did the large, metal briefcase in his grasp. It took every ounce of self control she had to resist bursting out laughing at his outfit. Of course a guy that good-looking dressed like a woman.

A pair of shocked, amethyst eyes, framed by platinum blond bangs, met her own laughing, hazel ones. "I expected to come face to face with you today, Little Benu." No doubt he was surprised to find her face covered in a seemingly public setting, though she figured he was sharp enough to soon realise why she could get away with it.

"I'd apologise for the disappointment." She bit her lip for a moment, mirth flashing in her eyes. "But looking at you now in that ridiculous outfit, I'm neither sorry nor disappointed."

"I happen to have come across this outfit in a motorcycle magazine," he growled.

Benu cocked her head sideways. "Are you sure it wasn't an edition of Vogue?"

The R.H.'s lavender eyes narrowed on her; a tell that she was getting to him, which only served to amuse her further. "You aren't proving to be a very gracious host," he sneered a moment later.

"Oh bother, where are my manners?" A coy laugh shook her shoulders. "Please… take a seat." The smug woman gestured across the table, then to the briefcase. "I assume the money's in there?" He nodded. "Sit, then set it on the table and open it." He glared daggers her way, not used to being on the receiving end of stern orders. Let alone being told to sit like a Ra damn dog. Benu sensed his heightening frustration; after all, she was rousing said frustration on purpose. "Also, know that it would not be wise to use that fancy stick of yours."

"Is that a threat?" The R.H. hissed, slipping into the seat opposite her as he set the case on the small, circular wooden table.

"Call it advice." Benu wasn't about to reveal that a sniper, firearm decked with heat sensors, was stationed in a building across the road. "I think you of all people would agree that precautions are a necessary step to ensure that all goes according to plan." She chuckled softly. "Particularly after the rather unfortunate predicament you found yourself in during our last meeting." Benu's feet slipped off the table to firmly meet the cherry wood floor. "Now then." She straightened in her seat, attention falling to the case on the table. "Unlock it." He shot another glare her way, to which she smiled sweetly. "Please?"

Benu watched as The R.H. almost sulkily punched a four digit code into the metal case. She was satisfied as a faint click confirmed it had opened. He lifted the lid, revealing a sum of money that would leave anyone else wide-eyed and slack jawed. However, the brunette girl simply maintained a casual air about her as she leaned closer, plucking a bundle of cash to examine its authenticity. She slid her thumb over the short edge of the notes, before plucking one from the centre of the stack. Holding the single note up to the bright light that shone above them, her hazel eyes flickered between the note and the bronze-skinned man opposite her.

"Five million in cash," The R.H. stated tensely, his pride clearly still battered after the recent events at the Louvre. "And five cheques of one million each at the bottom, to avoid rousing the bank's suspicion."

Benu removed a few bundles of cash from the case and, sure enough, five cheques written in fine print rested at the bottom. She sent a pointed look the blond boy's way. "The cheques will need to be banked at intervals that aren't terribly suspicious." Her gaze narrowed on her company. "How do I know you won't close the account between now and then?"

The R.H. flashed a smirk for the first time all morning, leaning against the table. "You'll just have to trust me."

Benu snorted. "Does that line ever work for you?"

"I rarely use it."

"That doesn't answer my question," she stated bluntly.

He growled audibly. "What can I do to ensure you're satisfied?"

"Ensure I'm satisfied?" Benu couldn't resist another sly smirk. "Are you referring to the cheques or. . .something else?"

The R.H. bristled. "The cheques." The two words came through clenched teeth. "I wasn't exactly given much notice to gather ten million dollars in cash." His eyes narrowed. "So accept the cheques."

Before The R.H. could even think to react, Benu had swept from her seat to painfully twist his arms around his back, slamming his pretty boy face against the table. "You know, Mr High and Mighty," she hissed in his ear, "I don't like your attitude." A light chuckle met his ears. "After all, there's only enough room in here for one condescending, yet ridiculously attractive individual."

The R.H. said nothing, though she could tell he was fuming, fighting an inward battle with his pride that made her laugh again.

"You're considering the consequences of using your fancy disco stick..." Benu goaded, her left hand gripping both of his wrists as her right slid down his side to grip the golden artifact tucked under his belt. The eye gleamed wickedly beneath the artificial cafe lights as she withdrew it from its resting place, then released The R.H., slowly pacing around him with the rod in hand as she returned to her seat. "Tell me... what's more important?" The brunette held one of the golden wings to her lips, feigning a thoughtful look. "Ra? Or your pride?"

The R.H. was silent once more as the table fell victim to his bitter lavender stare. Half a minute ticked by before he finally spoke, his tone surprisingly level. "You should really buy me dinner before fondling my shaft."

The second long incredulous gleam in Benu's eyes told The R.H. she was surprised. He savoured the reaction, as short lived as it was, for she quickly regained her composure, glee soon replacing the shock in her hazel irises.

"It seems you're finally beginning to learn how I operate," Benu snickered lightly, sliding the rod across the table to its owner. "And how to get on my good side." She withdrew a pen and paper from her jacket pocket, her tone turning suggestive as she continued, "I'll accept the cheques along with your name and number." She slid the utensils across the table, eyes narrowing on her company, whose look hinted he found her proposal distasteful at best. "If you change your number or refuse to answer, do keep in mind that I'd just track you down the hard way. I just wouldn't be pleased at having to put in the extra effort."

Five silent seconds slipped by before The R.H. plucked the pen from the table, listlessly looping letters and numbers in fine script. Another five seconds passed by before he set the pen on the paper, then slid both across the table to his company.

Benu minutely glanced at the fine script, before returning the utensils to their former resting place in her pocket. "Serious question," she stated with no preamble. "Do I put you in my phone as The R.H., Marik or Mr Really Hot?" She sighed dramatically, slumping against the back of her seat. "This has got to make top five on my list of toughest decisions I've ever had to make in this profession."

"I've upheld my end of the bargain," Marik basically hissed, his patience quickly dwindling as the woman across from him nonchalantly pulled a mobile device from her inner jacket pocket. She slipped her leather glove off her right hand, revealing lightly tanned piano fingers, then proceeded to coolly tap the touch screen without issue. "Where is Ra?"

Benu raised her index finger in the air. "One sec," she dismissed; then a buzz in his right pocket made him straighten. His attention remained on her as he withdrew his ebony flip phone. The sickly sweet smile that shined in her eyes had him seething. That anger doubled as he read the text.

Why hello Mr Really Hot Marik,
Check your left pocket. ;)
Love from your fave birdy, Benu
xox

Marik rolled his eyes at the woman's antics, before he rather hesitantly obliged, replacing his phone in its former resting place to then seek out his left pocket. When his fingers slid over the smooth surface of a card, he didn't know whether to feel ecstatic at being one step closer to destroying the Pharaoh... or disturbed that the vexing little bird had somehow slipped the card into his back pocket unnoticed.

"How did you..."

"What can I say?" Benu shrugged. "I'm good with my hands..." She winked, before a sudden rush of excitement set her hazel eyes alight. "Oh! And if you didn't notice, I came to a compromise on what name I put you under in my cell. I must say kudos for giving me the right number. I might've just taken that lovely little card of yours back if you hadn't." Her eyes trailed to the exit. "Now then," Benu leaned against the table, "here at Café de Flore, our customers never leave without enjoying our coffee first." Her eyes were laughing once more. "I'm betting you're a black coffee kinda guy."

Eyes fixed on Marik, Benu beckoned over a nearby teenage boy with a simple hand motion and, in an instant, the barista dashed to her side. "Que désirez-vous, Lady Benu?"

"Je prends deux cafés noirs."

When she proceeded to lightly – playfully? – nudge the boy, Marik could only arch a puzzled brow.

"Et je vous ai déjà dit de ne pas m'appeler Lady Benu. Cela me fait sentir vieux."

The boy stiffened, clearly unsettled around the renowned criminal. She was reminding the boy that being addressed as Lady Benu made her feel old. "Je- Je suis désolé, B-Benu," he apologised, noticeably trembling. "Je va-vais préparer vos boissons maintenant."

"Merci beaucoup," Benu curtly thanked the barista, ignoring his poorly concealed fear. It was nothing new to her.

"Faire mon boisson à emporter," Marik suddenly spoke up, tersely ordering for his drink to go. He refused to play the vexing little bird's silly game. By Ra, he'd humoured her enough as is and the sun was barely up.

The boy spared a look Benu's way, seemingly searching for her approval. One fluid nod, coupled with a minute amount of surprise from Marik, was enough to tell the boy his boss had authorised the request. With that, he bowed graciously, before sauntering off to make the order.

As the grated, mechanical buzz of the coffee machine filled the otherwise silent air, Marik eyed Benu warily. He felt uneasy at the mere thought of remaining in her presence for any longer than was necessary. Couldn't he just drop off the money, take Ra and be done with it? "I notice you ordered two black coffees."

"No milk or sugar for me either." The young woman minutely wished he could see the mocking smile upon her face. "I'm sweet enough as it is."

Marik's simple snort in response to the statement made her chuckle. Clearly he didn't agree.

"So tell me, Marik," Benu drawled, lightly drumming her gloved fingers upon the table, "how did you come to be the big, bad R.H.?" He knew the demeaning edge to the question was painfully intentional.

Marik answered the curt query with one of his own. "How did you come to be second-in-command of The Cobras?"

At that, Benu exhaled an over-dramatic groan. "Really Marik?" she droned, throwing her hands out before her as if to emphasise her obviously exaggerated bout of irritation. "You're really gonna make me quote a silly cliché?"

Marik cocked a smooth brow, a silent request for further elaboration. Not that he didn't already suspect her impending words.

"I asked you first."

And there it was.

"My affairs are none of your concern."

"Affairs?" Benu repeated innocently. "You mean I'm not the only woman in your life?"

When his first response was to sourly roll his eyes, she had to give a coy laugh.

"Do you flirt with all of your clientèle, Little Benu?" he dared to ask, apparently regaining a sliver of a spine.

"Only the cute ones," she shot back, and he could tell by the glee in Benu's eyes that she was enjoying their banter a little too much for his liking.

"I repeat," he muttered, leaning forward in his seat, "how did you come to be in such a high rank among The Cobras?"

"Family business," Benu announced through a sigh. "Daddy's little prodigy and all that."

Marik's expression grew stoic, unsavoury memories thrusting to the forefront of his mind. She was an heiress, destined from birth to carry on her father's legacy. After all, The Cobras had been around for generations; that much he knew. Oh, he knew such circumstances painfully well.

"Let me guess," Benu tore him from his ruminations, her voice unsettlingly soft. "Daddy issues?"

Marik tensed, only to instantly curse himself for doing so. Had his thoughts really been that apparent? Or was the damn female just that perceptive? He failed to dwell on either question. A cool breath of relief washed over him the very second that the barista set his drink down before him. Thank Ra for the boy's perfect timing.

"Again, Lady Benu," the blond hissed, suavely rising to his feet, "my affairs are none of your concern."

Reclaiming some much needed poise, Marik scooped up his drink and arrogantly strode for the exit. He only hoped she wouldn't deny him his leave.

To his immense relief and mild surprise, Benu merely watched him go, though he knew her eyes were laughing again. It was the reason his fists were curled, quickly draining of their colour, his mind manipulated by the fury that, for once, he was the reason for another's amusement.

Only after heading out the door, wishing he could slam the damn thing in his wake, did Marik pluck up the courage to account for his keys, wallet, cell phone and, most importantly, the Millennium Rod and The Winged Dragon of Ra.

Little did the Egyptian know, he'd spend the rest of the day gallivanting around with his fly down.

It was so fun coming up with Benu's dodgy remarks - and Marik's sole dodgy joke about buying him dinner before fondling his shaft. Tehehe. I hope you liked this chapter. Please review and let me know what you thought! Ciao!