Charles' Point of View.
"Fada." The new name my daughters will always use for me. Oh, that is truly lovely. It will surely strengthen our bond, making each one feel even, and a great part of the family.
Their mother was present when they shared this with me. She inquired what they would call her as well. Perhaps they have come up with a special name for her too.
Ace responded to her, saying simply, "Mum, you are a lovely mother."
This means they won't be changing what they've always called her. It was "Mother," and it seems it will remain so, at least for now.
Our name is becoming well-known. Over the past few months, our popularity has steadily grown.
Polowski has been a tremendous help. He produces clothing with our designs for sale. It's even fair to say his company's sales have skyrocketed thanks to our customized items.
Our customized wear is truly appealing – well-designed with striking colors. It makes people eager to purchase them.
It was remarkable; in different parts of the world, you would find at least one person in fifty wearing something accustomed to our wear.
Soon enough, the media began to take notice. The name "DAUGHTERS" went viral. Curiosity about our endeavors spread rapidly; people were eager to know exactly what we were doing.
The name "DAUGHTERS" and our slogan, "Remember us," particularly caught the attention of broadcasters, who actively sought ways to connect with us.
I felt the need to create a compelling narrative for them to believe in.
My initial idea was to expose a scientist and hand him over to the police.
However, my wife, Milan, offered a crucial shift in perspective.
She reminded me that the police, in the course of their investigation, would likely arrest us as well for our involvement.
Instead, she suggested we hand him over to the media.
The media, she argued, would amplify our actions, portraying us as heroes and effectively facilitating the scientist's handover to the police.
It was a brilliant idea. That's definitely the path we'll take, as the police would undoubtedly want to know who we are and how we apprehended him.
We will craft a narrative for the press, carefully controlling the information we reveal about our activities, presenting only what we want them to believe.
And we will use the scientist as the centerpiece of this narrative to clarify our image.
The truth is, this scientist had a sinister plan that could have made him a millionaire, if not a billionaire. I discovered he was repeatedly purchasing the same sets of medicines.
His intention was to create a deadly virus, unleash it upon the public, and then profit by selling the vaccines he had already produced.
He had already made significant progress; he was on the verge of execution. He even had a large warehouse where the vaccines were stored.
We will expose this, providing the intelligence to the press so they can then pass it on to the police.
I entrusted the initial information to Ace, as always. We need her sharp mind. This time, as with all our endeavors, the entire family gathered to strategize.
This particular mission, the thought of going in with guns, felt like overkill. We wouldn't need them.
Even two of our daughters should be capable of handling this; there's no need for everyone to be involved.
Ace suggested that only Helen should accompany her. We were still discussing this when the others had already gotten dressed.
I instructed Ace to operate at her absolute peak, needing her full concentration to hack the warehouse door where the vaccines were stored.
We also learned that the scientist was so confident in his lock that he hadn't bothered with any additional security.
Ace's simple reply was, "Good, just good."
The daughters set out. They were armed and dressed in their signature yellow customized outfits.
Helen's Point of View
We located the warehouse, and as Fada had predicted, the access door was locked. It was a computerized lock, undoubtedly requiring a code. Ace produced her decoding system, ready for its first real test.
With a surprisingly simple hacking technique, she bypassed the lock.
Oscar's immediate reaction was, "I thought Fada said it would take some time."
Upon opening the door, we quickly realized Fada's information was incomplete. Firstly, the place was guarded.
And secondly, the warehouse contained a bunker.
The moment we saw the guards, we simultaneously drew our guns, pointing them at the men, prepared to fire.
One of them sneered, "Why don't you lower your guns and let us dance, ladies?"
Vesta grinned and urged us to drop our weapons, eager for the confrontation they offered.
Then, a short, particularly unpleasant-looking one pointed at Helen and declared he would take the "busty one."
His words ignited a palpable rage within Helen. Even someone blind could have sensed her fury and disgust.
She initiated the "dance" with a powerful kick to his chest.
He collapsed, and Helen immediately pounced on him, unleashing a flurry of slaps.
There were ten of them, and only six of us. Despite the numerical disadvantage, we subdued them in under two minutes.
Helen, who had started the fight, continued her assault even after the remaining nine were on the ground.
She relentlessly slapped the man until the intense hatred that had consumed her seemed to have left her.
Vesta intervened, instructing us not to execute any of them, as we intended to hand them over to the police.
Vesta, ever the unpredictable one, then ordered us to tie each of them standing to a pole. Afterward, she severed an electric wire and proceeded to flog them, administering ten lashes each.
She justified her actions by claiming they were punishment for working with the scientist to do such an evil act to the world.
Just as she finished, a door opened at the end of the hallway above. The scientist emerged, clapping his hands.
"Bravo!" he exclaimed.
Mince and Swiss immediately aimed their guns at him, yet he continued his descent down the stairs with an unsettling confidence.
He sneered, "Perhaps you should be more concerned about why you are here instead of punishing these men."
He boasted that after he installed the door, he had hired twenty-five highly skilled hackers from various countries, none of whom could breach its security.
"Try me," Ace retorted.
He sneered, "Go on, open it. If you do, I will give you my expensive dog to make love with, and keep you company."
That crude sentence instantly enraged Swiss, and she shot him in the hand.