It was my clandestine infiltration into a local Parisian criminal gang that eventually led me to contacts in a loose net of gangs that were using the political influence on both sides of the channel to help plan and execute illicit activities, then transport loot across the channel going both directions. It was from this that I learned of a mastermind organization only referred to as the Agency. It was fast becoming a predominant body in crime circles on both in England and several European countries. It was involved in thefts, scams, blackmail, kidnappings and murder. Nothing was ignored that could bring in sufficient loot that would make it worth their concern. The petty thefts and scams that I participated in were rationalized away by me for the better good I would work by exposing the network of individuals that were perpetrating the associations between the criminals and willing stooges of the intellectual and social conscious class. When I had infiltrated the M Agency, I knew there was an element of evil far surpassing those I had unfortunately associated myself with previously. The cunning and guile were extraordinary in the extent and disregard for other’s lives. Murder was continually committed on the mere hint of exposure. It was after I had played a part in the murder of Henri Becquerel, that I was to prove myself to the M Agency by finding and fingering for execution a member of the gang who had faulted on an assassination assignment and immediately disappeared. The criminal associate who had fallen into disfavor was one Alain Relais. He had been contracted to assassinate a Parisian judge who had jurisdiction over districts that the M Agency was operating in and who had been approached but had resisted corruption. He was part of a two-man team, similar to what I had experienced in my burglary venture turned homicidal. Only Alain had not only not cooperated in the hit, but also caused his teammate to be caught in the act and apprehended. Alain’s haunts were known and my team was sent to reconnoiter and capture him to be brought back for retribution, or if not possible to effect his return, to kill him then and there. Roberto could not understand why Alain must have frozen, he knew him to be a cold-blooded killer that was only out for his own self-interest. His avowed sympathies with the Individualist Anarchist movement had made him a key instigator and collaborator with our teams and our contacts with the groups and individuals that showed sympathies with us. Jacque, another local gang member, also knew Alain and knew he was fearless and ruthless in the murders he had previously been tasked with, two that Jacque had planned and joined in on. It didn’t take long to track Alain down. We were tipped off that he was hiding out with the widow of his deceased brother, just outside of Marseille. We put together a team of five of us to do the deed. We went there a late Saturday, figuring the locals would be celebrating the end of their workweek and any commotion would be thought to be a bit too much of celebration. When we broke into the house through the back door, his sister-in-law calmly said, “He ain’t here. He’s waiting for you at the empty warehouse Mont Saint Victoire in the Port Vieux in the Panier quarter. You know he’s armed and he knows you are after him.” We left Jean to keep an eye on her and left for our rendezvous. It was way past midnight when we found the abandoned warehouse. Our reconnoiter chased away several alcoholic bums, who had sought shelter around the locked warehouse, as they saw us heavily armed and decided not to stick around for the action. Roberto signaled for a huddle after we had cased the outside of the building and surroundings. He told us I would go in first and they would follow if they heard any gunshots or I took too long, presuming I would have been taken out silently. I had found a second story window that I could get to without too much commotion and a little climb up a storm gutter. I told them if they heard any crashing to rush in, as it was dark and if I happened to trip on something that would raise Alain alarm; they were to close in immediately. I handed one of our group, Rene, my shotgun, then I shimmied up the drainpipe without too much noise. I found the window locked, but several glass panes were broken out, I had to merely stick my arm in and release the lock. I eased the window open and stuck a foot