Chapter 6: Seven of Diamonds

A/N: It's a bit of a long'un, but this is one of my favourite chapters of anything I have ever written.

"You should've seen them, Daddy!" Bellagio laughed, waving her fork around at the dinner table, "When they fell out of that tankette, their faces were priceless!" she held her face in her hand, trying to fight back tears as she recounted the memory that was obviously far funnier to her than it was to anyone she told it to.

On the other end of the dinner table, Mr Benedict picked at his food with his fork as he said boredly, "Yes, sweetheart, I know I should've. This is the third time you've told me."

Mr Benedict was dressed in a white buttoned shirt with a red tie, his usual attire. He was a little on the large side, as he didn't need to move around much as part of his work and liked to indulge in fine food and wine. His neck was quite pudgy, and when he stood, the underside of his potbelly could be seen peeping out from his shirt. He claimed his shirts were shrinking in the wash. The girls claimed he was just getting fatter.

One of the overhead spotlight lamps had a bulb blown out, casting him in a shadow of complete darkness while the other girls sat comfortably in the light.

"Oh, but it's just so funny to tell, Daddy!"

"I'm glad you had fun Bell, but maybe we could talk about something else at last?"

"Eurgh. Like what?"

"Well, Mirage's next show will be on in a few weeks, won't it dear?" he asked his daughter, and Bellagio lost all interest, giving a silent humph with a shrug of her shoulders and leaning her face against her fist.

Mirage was sitting on the side of the long dinner table next to her twin sister Emgie like she always did. Gently placing her fork on the table, she placed her hands on her lap and said, "Y-yes, daddy, it is."

"And it's going to be live at the SA-Grand theatre, too!" the man said proudly, "That's quite the achievement, don't you think?"

"It certainly is!" said Emgie with a beaming smile as she wrapped her arms around Mirage, "My sister is going to be on stage in Roulette's biggest theatre in front of thousands of people!"

Mirage started physically shaking in her seat.

"Tone it back a bit, Emgie," said Ocean, turning an invisible dial in the air. Ocean was sitting across from the twins.

"It's nothing to get too nervous about," Mr Benedict chuckled, "After so many successful performances, you'll pull this one off without a hitch."

"Yeah," scoffed Bellagio, "Maybe she'll talk properly for once."

"That's enough of that, young lady!" Mr Benedict boomed in his "work" voice, slamming the end of his fork onto the table.

If anything could get Bellagio to back off, shut down, or quiver in fear, it was her father's "work" voice. It was the voice he used when he needed to be intimidating. And Mr Benedict could be very intimidating.

Bellagio shrunk in her seat, cleared her throat and said, "Sorry, Mirage."

"Isn't this show the one with the Maus Haus?" asked Ocean, trying to restart the conversation again as quickly as possible. She hated awkward silences.

"The band?" asked Mr Benedict. "Mirage, you didn't tell me you would be performing with the Maus Haus!"

"It never crossed my mind," said Mirage.

"They're one of my favourite bands," Mr Benedict chuckled, "It's so nice to see youth appreciating the music of old and trying to show it off to others."

The Benedict family finished their dinner and turned in for the night. As it was Friday, Mr Benedict went to bed earlier than the others in preparation for what he knew the morning would be like.

Bellagio was one of the last of the four girls to wake up, and always started her morning with a shower. She had her own room, with an en-suite bathroom. Surprisingly, it was Mr Benedict's suggestion - and not Bellagio's demand - that she have the room with a bathroom. He figured that her sharing a bathroom with Ocean would be absolute chaos.

Bellagio was scrubbing away in the shower, whistling Funicili, Funicala. She had become somewhat obsessed.

She was Mr Benedict's eldest daughter; only by a couple of years, granted, but she had the forceful personality of someone far older. You always knew when Bellagio was in the room, even if she didn't say anything; her presence was radiating.

She kept up appearances by trying to be as stunningly beautiful as she could, for a number of reasons. For one, playing hard to get with the boys was fun, especially the obedient ones. She certainly had the... ahem... "voluptuous" features that could make them drool and squirm. She also felt like being the more better looking of the girls in the family exerted a sort of 'alpha female' status amongst her sisters, and Bellagio liked to be in control.

Being the weekend, Bellagio was enjoying one of her infamous half-hour showers. She took time to pamper herself in preparation for the coming week, and that meant washing her hair twice, scrubbing herself with skin softening shower gel, painstakingly covering her face in a face mask to ensure her skin was spot and oil free, shaving pretty much everywhere that grew hair; the list of necessities went on.

Emgie was showered and dressed, sporting a pair of jeans and a white shirt. She was down in the kitchen making herself some breakfast. She felt like having something cooked this morning.

Emgie was one of the daughters of Mr Benedict, and Mirage's fraternal twin sister. She was the shortest of the sisters, including Ocean. Her hair was blonde, and was neck length, save for the tufts around her temple, which she grew out and plaited.

The family butler came into the kitchen, and saw the tin of beans, block of cheese and the grater, as well as Emgie pulling herself up onto the kitchen worktop to reach into one of the higher cupboards.

"Miss Benedict, at it again I see," he said.

"Yes, Minamoto," she said, "And don't ask if I would like you to make breakfast for me. The grand Emmie needs to make a grand breakfast!"

"But, miss Benedict, we have this discussion every week," the butler was keeping a bulletproof face of professionalism, but was smirking on the inside, "You wish to make yourself breakfast, but you're always left stuck at a roadblock."

"That's so never happened!" she pouted.

"First it was the sushi, then the omelette, the pancakes, and then the full English. Miss Benedict, when will you settle for a simple bowl of cereal?"

"Minamoto, it's just beans on toast!" she said, opening the cupboard at last to pull out a saucepan. "Nothing will-"

And then there was an almighty cacophony of clattering as pots and pans fell out of the cupboard. Emgie clamped her hands to her ears to shut out the noise, her eyes squeezing shut.

She opened one eye once the noise stopped, and saw the butler still standing in the kitchen doorway, awaiting orders he knew were about to come.

"Hey, Minamoto, are you busy?"

Ocean was making her way down one of the Benedict mansion's grand hallways. She was just finishing clipping up her overalls after having stolen a shirt from Emgie's room. She always thought Emgie had nice taste in cute clothing, and while her shirts were a bit too small for Ocean, that was just how she liked it, they were like crop tops for her. And crop tops with overalls made from some cheeky skin shots from the side.

Ocean only cared about her appearance because Bellagio cared so much about her own. Because Bellagio tried so hard to look nice, Ocean tried to make it look like her own attractiveness was effortless. She knew that would get completely under Bellagio's skin. So something casual like a pair of overalls and a crop top were just what she needed to one up her.

Aside from her casual fashion sense, Ocean was the second tallest of the girls after Bellagio, which she silently resented. Her eyes were a deep and captivating dark green, and absolutely filled with mischief. Her hair was a bob of fluffy, soft to the touch and a dark brown, bordering black.

This morning, just like any other morning on the weekend, was a morning for games, pranks and giggles. She got up early so she could be ready before anyone else, there were more opportunities for mischief that way.

She knew Bellagio would be showering for at least another quarter of an hour. So, sneaking into her room, she scoped out her surroundings. She could hear the shower running in the en-suite, as well as Bellagio whistling completely out of tune.

Ocean crept through Bellagio's bedroom to the bathroom, her bare feet not making a sound on the tiled floor. She pushed open the door and let out a miasma of steam, and was almost physically assaulted by the sudden waft of hot air that followed.

Fortunately for Ocean, Bellagio's shower was covered by a shower curtain, as opposed to a glass border; that would make her game much more challenging. She saw Bellagio's pyjamas in a heap on the floor mat, and her fresh clothes in a folded pile beside them.

Clothes wouldn't do. Ocean stole Bellagio's favourite pair of socks last week, and she had just taken Emgie's shirt. She needed to leave her mark some other way.

On a hook on the other end of the bathroom, near the shower, was Bellagio's towel. One of her pink, Egyptian cotton ones, freshly washed by Minamoto just yesterday.

Perfect.

With the gushing water roaring and Bellagio continuing to hum away, Ocean took a step into the bathroom. The floor was wet from the steam and chilly to the touch. Not wanting to overstay her welcome, she took steps in wide strides. She took another one and placed her foot on the mat, and reached out for the towel.

But she wasn't thinking about what she was doing. She put too much of her weight onto her rear leg, and from leaning forward so much her foot slipped out from under her on the wet floor. She let out a quick gasp of surprise and clamped her hand down on the nearby sink to stop her fall.

And Bellagio's singing had suddenly stopped.

Mirage stood in front of the full body mirror in the room she shared with her twin. She was dressed and fed, and now everyone else had had a chance to get up, she felt it was a good time to practice her lines. Hopefully they wouldn't hear her and she wouldn't die from embarrassment.

As her father had said, the theatre club was organising a performance and it was due to debut soon. They had partnered with the jazz club to make a noir musical, hence why the Maus Haus was featured to perform. Mirage was playing the role of the damsel that would surprise everyone at the end with her sudden flare of independence as she saved the lead character from danger. The theatre club was quite pleased with this role, as Mirage - with her stuttering nervous voice and non-threatening appearance - fit the role perfectly.

Mirage was terrified. Not of the early scenes, she knew she'd do well with those. It was the scenes in the final act where a lot of the attention would focus on her and the lead character she was worried about. She was used to playing background or side characters, like bartenders and maids. Not lead roles.

Which was try she was trying to get some practice in now. She really liked practising in front of the mirror. She was self concious about the way she moved her mouth when she spoke, so it comforted her that she could keep an eye on it while she practised.

Mirage was one of the daughters of Mr Benedict and the twin sister of Emgie. She didn't have Bellagio's beauty, or her twin's extroverted personality, or Ocean's mischievous cuteness. She was a bundle of nervousness, and was very self concious of a lot of things about herself. She didn't do anything with her hair, she just grew it out and kept it combed, as she was afraid of doing anything with it. She had taken to wearing a clip in the shape of a red diamond from a pack of cards, as gifted to her by her twin. But not because she felt like she looked any nicer wearing it, but because she didn't want to hurt her sister's feelings if she didn't.

She held the script in her hand, peered at it for a moment, and then looked up again into the reflection of her own eyes. Gritting her teeth slightly and taking a deep breath, she muttered, "N-n-no! Th-that's enough of-of that! Stop wh-what you're-"

She stamped her foot in frustration. She was enunciating too much, she wasn't acting with her lips, she couldn't stop the stutter and she was standing stock still like a statue clutching the script.

She rubbed her temples. This was all just par for the course. A regular occurrence and frustration in her rehearsals. She just had to grin and bear with it. She always pulled through in the end.

Mirage held the script in her hand, peered at it for a moment, and then looked up again into the reflection of her own eyes. Gritting her teeth slightly and taking a deep breath, she tried again.

Ocean quickly made a grab for the towel and pulled it off the hook. The shower curtain was flung to the side and there was Bellagio, still wearing her face mask and a razor in hand.

"Ocean..." she growled.

Ocean fled like a rabbit. She scrambled to pull the door open and dashed out the room, the towel flapping behind her.

"OCEAN!" she heard the cry of a Banshee behind her.

Ocean giggled to herself as she came to a slide to open Bellagio's bedroom door, but terror stole her playful laughter from her as she heard the sound of wet, slapping footsteps behind her. Not wanting to stick around much longer, she made her escape out the room. Giving only the briefest of glances back, she caught a glimpse of a furious, naked Bellagio before she ran down the hall.

Half laughing, half whimpering, but all excited, Ocean sprinted down the hall. Bellagio was coming after her, screaming profanities and all manners of threats, and leaving a trail of water.

Ocean grabbed onto the handrail of the stairs to pull herself to a stop, and hopped onto it and slid down to the ground floor, holding the towel up to make it flap in the breeze.

"OCEAN!" Bellagio cried again.

Ocean drifted around a corner into the grand hallway, and nearly ran straight into someone. Skidding to a halt, she looked up at the family butler, Minamoto. They shared a knowing glance, and Ocean slipped behind him.

Bellagio was soon right behind her, having rapidly descended the stairs.

"Ocean, I swear to GOD I will f-!" and she shrieked at the sight of Minamoto and scrambled to cover herself with her arms.

With no sense of panic, Minamoto turned on the spot, placed a hand in front of his eyes and said calmly - like this had happened a hundred times before - "Good morning, miss Benedict."

"Mi-Minamoto! Claim my towel from this juvenile this instant!"

"Miss LeMarc," Minamoto said into his hand, "Would you be so kind as to hand miss Benedict her towel back?"

Ocean liked Minamoto, he had treated her like a member of the family the day she had moved in. So, not wanting to make his life difficult now Bellagio had got him involved, she sauntered over to Bellagio with a smirk, handing out the towel.

Bellagio snatched it from Ocean's grasp and quickly wrapped it around her.

"You better watch your back," Bellagio muttered behind gritted teeth, to an unaltered Ocean.

"Now, ladies, if you would be so kind as to evacuate the halls. I think I have some mopping to do," said Minamoto as he turned back around, his hands behind his back.

Giving Ocean one last stare that could disable a Maus if looks could kill, Bellagio turned and went back to her room.

Ocean and Minamoto gave each other a glance. As they passed by each other to go their separate ways, they shared a quick fist bump.

Mr Benedict sat up in his bed with an annoyed sigh, his eyes hidden from view by his sleep mask with the Roulette logo printed on the front. The curtains were shut, letting in only a slice of the morning sun in, casting a strip of light across the bed sheets.

A lie-in was impossible. He had been suddenly awoken by the crashing in the kitchen, and a minute later of trying to get back to sleep he was jolted back awake by Bell's continuous shrieks. And now Mirage was practising her singing in the room below him and it was carrying through the floor.

He held his head in his hands as he contemplated what he was going to do about these girls.

Later that day, the girls were all relaxing in the mansion's lounge. Bellagio sitting in her armchair, flicking through all of her social media apps, catching up on the morning's activities.

Ocean was sitting upside down on another armchair, her legs draped over the backrest and her head hanging. She was engaging in some quick Blackjack on the Roulette Academy app. She'd developed a simple card counting system of her own and was putting it to use. It certainly wasn't anything that was going to win her hundreds of chips, but it was good enough that she could beat all the idiots.

Emgie was slouching in a bean bag in the corner, sorting out her phone's photo album after it had recently been filled up from all her selfies.

Mirage was catching up on some more script reading that she'd fallen behind on since the Anzio battle had taken up a lot of her time.

Minamoto came into the lounge carrying a tray of tea, cola and juice.

"Ladies, your requested beverages," he said.

One by one he walked between the girls, bending at the waist to lower the tray so they may take their drink. Bellagio took her tea with naught but a smile and a slight nod of the head. Ocean flipped herself upright and took her glass of cola with a "Thanks, Minamoto." Emgie took her juice with a "Thank you," and Mirage took her own tea with a small, sweet smile.

"Oh my God, guys!" Emgie suddenly cried, waving her phone around, "Look what I found!"

Ocean and Mirage flocked to see, while Bellagio stayed sat with her tea.

"Oh, I remember when that was taken!" said Ocean, "We completely forgot about it!"

Bellagio sighed, curiosity winning her over. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's the day we got the Nahuel," said Mirage.

Bellagio frowned curiously and went over to see. Sure enough, it was a photo of the four of them either posing in front of or sitting on their Nahuel.

"When was that taken?" asked Bellagio.

"The day we started the club," said Emgie, "So... a year ago?"

"That certainly was a rollercoaster of a day," Ocean smiled

1 year ago...

The room was dark. The windows were closed, and the lights were left turned off. A safety precaution, in case any cameras were brought into the room.

In the middle sat a large, round table, with oak rims and a velvet green surface. On the table, strewn about, were Roulette Academy chips. The chips were made from high quality Italian plastic, with the Academy's logo stamped beautifully on the front; with half red 'R' on one side and half a Roulette bowl on the other.

Also atop the table were drinks in crystal glasses, as served by the butler. These drinks were being enjoyed by a cast of men sitting around the grand table, all finely dressed in suits of either grey, black, white or patters too fancy to fit description. Regardless, though, all the suits were of the highest quality.

The room was dark. Save for one spotlight in the ceiling that cast a cone of light onto the surface of the table to illuminate that which rested upon it. All the men were cast in darkness, their identities hidden from each other.

And from the shadows, a pair of arms, the elbows of such rested upon the able with the fingers laced together. A golden signet ring shone in the light.

And as his butler took stand next to him with an empty tray after performing his duties, Mr Benedict spoke.

"Gentlemen, thank you for coming today. I hope your drinks are to your taste."

A ripple of content murmurs filled the room.

"Wonderful. Then if everyone is prepared, we may begin."

And with a snap of his fingers, the butler stepped forward. Producing a white cloth from seemingly nowhere, he placed it on top of the table, easily within view. It clunked as it made contact.

The butler removed the cloth with swift grace, stepping back into the darkness, and underneath was a handgun. This captured the interest of every man in the room, and they all shuffled in their seats to eye it.

"This is the gun that was used to shoot Tony last week," Mr Benedict said matter-of-factly, his voice slick and smooth, as if he were completely sure of every word he said capturing the respect of everyone in the room. This was a man who knew what he was talking about and knew what he was doing. "It was during one of this ships expeditions to Las Vegas. Now, I don't like going to Vegas, and some of you may guess why..."

That earned some sniggering chuckles from the ones in the know.

"... but when I do go back home, I do not like it when one of my lieutena- no... when one of my friends is shot. So, here's what we need to do. Starting tomorrow, we-"

Suddenly the double doors on the opposite end of the room Mr Benedict was sitting flew open, spilling in a sea of light and causing glaring blindness to the men inside whom were acustomed to the dark.

"DADDY!"

"Oh no..." Mr Benedict's hands detached from each other to catch his head as it fell forwards in despair.

"Daddy!" Bellagio repeated, ignoring everyone else in the room and making her way around the table.

"What is it, Bell?"

Bellagio hoisted herself up onto the table, sitting on a few chips in the process. She was dressed in her night-going outfit, with her hair tied into a bun, a pair of pantihose with a micro-skirt and a pink shirt with a large stylised hole cut into the back. She certainly captured the attention of a few of the younger men in the room.

"I want a puppy."

"Wh-b-d... a puppy?" Mr Benedict had completely lost his cool confident tone and was now speaking with the shrilly, cracking voice of a broken man.

"Yes. I want a puppy."

"Bell, dearest, you already have two horses, a cat and a tank full of sharks on the fishing deck that you never visit. Why do you want a puppy?"

"Because puppies are cute. I want something I can play with in the house."

"Isn't that what the cat's for?"

"The cat's never here! And it's got fat. It doesn't want to play. And can't lie on it. When the puppy grows up I can use it as a pillow that loves me back."

"Wh... how big a dog do you want?"

"German Shepherd? Malamute? Ooh, I know! A tosa!"

Mr Benedict nearly started crying.

"Sweetheart, Daddy's working right now. Can't we talk about this some other time?"

"But I want a puppy now!"

"Bell, you're about to go out! And I couldn't get you a puppy now even if I wanted to!"

"Why not?" she whined.

"Out!" he bellowed.

Bellagio sulked with that horrible pout she'd mastered wearing since she was three. She pushed herself off the table, spilling a few of the chips on the floor. She stomped toward the door and wrenched it open.

"For God's sake, turn a damn light on!" she got her last word before slamming the door shut.

"Tea, sir?"

"Yes please, Minamoto," Mr Benedict replied.

It had been a couple of hours later. The meeting had been had, he had said everything he wanted to say, and now Mr Benedict was in his private study. Now that he studied much in here. He had other people to do all of his accounting and logistics. "Study" was more of a euphemism for "escape room".

He sat in his armchair near the window that reached from floor to ceiling. He had a good view of the rising full moon from here. Minamaoto - the only person allowed in Mr Benedict's study - had come in with a teapot, a cup and some sugar. He knew all to well his master would be in need of some stress relief after what had happened during the meeting. The master was already anxious from Tony being in hospital.

Mr Benedict sat in his chair and rubbed his temples with a sigh.

"Perhaps, sir, you would like me to reschedule your weekly massage session for tomorrow morning?"

"That's actually a good idea, Minamoto. See to it."

"Of course, sir."

Mr Benedict took his cup of tea and his newspaper.

"Have you ever wanted kids, Minamoto?"

The butler's bulletproof professional demeanour was temporarily cracked from the sudden, unexpected personal question.

"I cannot say I have, sir. My loyalty has always been to the Benedict family. Not children that I do not have."

"Well, take some advice from me. Find yourself a woman that doesn't want children. Their joyous things, and my children mean the world to me, but I wouldn't mind being left ignorant to what could've been."

"If you pardon my saying, sir, but isn't it just miss Bellagio that is the brunt of the problem?"

"Perhaps. Emma and Mirage are little angels. Ocean is..." he frowned.

"A different kettle of fish?"

"Is that what the English say?"

Minamoto nodded once with closed eyes.

"Yeah, she's that," he tutted and sucked air through his teeth. "I suppose it is Bell. She's just so... so..."

"Spoilt, sir?"

"Yeah. That. Maybe it's my fault."

Minamoto said nothing.

"What do you think I should do?" Mr Benedict asked.

"I do not believe it would be my place to suggest, sir."

"Oh, suck it up, Minamoto. You're just as much of a friend to me as Tony. I want your advice."

Minamoto pursed his lips as he considered his next words carefully.

"I believe sir, that some extra discipline need be taken."

"Yeah, but how?"

"Perhaps she should take up a hobby? She doesn't interact much with people at school. The only people she regularly interacts with are her sisters. Miss LeMarc is driving her to anger."

Mr Benedict nodded with a curious frown. "A hobby, you say? Good idea, Minamoto. I'll look into that."

"Would sir like anything else?"

"No thanks. You can take the rest of the evening off."

"You're too kind, sir," Minamoto gave one last bow before leaving the room.

Mr Benedict drank his tea as he perused his newspaper. While he read it, he wasn't taking any of the information in. His mind was distracted, thinking of ideas for ways to get Bell out of the house.

And then, he came to the sports section.

THE SECOND OPERATION BARBAROSSA

After a win record spanning nine years, Kuromorimine Girls High School lost the finals match in the 62nd Sensha-dou National Tournament which saw them battling against Pravda Girls High School.

Mr Benedict looked up from his paper, straight at the moon. He had an idea.

Three days later...

"Daddy, have I ever told you how much I love you?" Bellagio had a huge smile on her face as Mr Benedict led her through the mansion with his hands over her eyes.

"All too often, dear," he lied.

He took Bellagio outside.

"I'm going to call it Terry," she squealed.

"You ready?" asked Mr Benedict.

"Yes!" Bellagio said, bouncing up and down.

Mr Benedict removed his hands. Bellagio's beaming smile melted into a frown.

"What's... what's that...?"

Mr Benedict walked briskly up to it with a bounce in his step, swinging his arms merilly by his side with an excited chuckle.

"This, my dear Bell, is an Argentinian 1943 Nahuel D.L.43 medium tank!" he said, hugging the tank and stroking its hull.

"What's a tank doing in our drive?!"

"Because as of today, Roulette Academy is starting a Tankery club!" he said, flinging his arms open. "And this shall be the tank that you will command!"

Bellagio looked absolutely dumbfounded. An eyebrow was cocked and her mouth was hanging open at an angle.

And the mansion doors opened behind her, and her sisters spilled out, having been led here by Minamoto at Mr Benedict's request.

"Oh wow, its a tank!" Emgie cried and dashed toward it.

Mirage's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the vehicle. Ocean put a hand on her hip; she was surprised by its presence but somewhat fascinated.

"But I don't want a tank!" Bellagio exclaimed. "I want a puppy!"

"Bell, please dear. You need a hobby, and I can't handle a puppy in the house. This will be a nice thing for you to do with your sisters!"

"Daddy, do you even know how Tankery works?" Bellagio asked, "We need more than one tank! And I'm sure as hell not being the commander! You can't just thrust that responsibility on to me!"

"Don't you worry, dear. I've made arrangements."

The day before...

Friedrich was sat down in an armchair with her legs crossed. She had a book in her hand that someone had brought to History Club about the development of the tank during WW1. In hand she had a cup of tea that another member of the club, Nelson, had made for her. It was delicious; being British, Nelson could make a "cracking" cup f tea, as she put it.

Other members of the History Club were lounging around, either constructing models, doing some reading of their own, playing historical board games or having friendly chats about periods of history they were mutually interested in.

Friedrich was pleased with the club she had managed to create. She'd petitioned with the school to commandeer a permanent room for the club to hang out in, and she'd been lucky to get members that were willing to contribute the the club by donating games and books. The club wasn't limited to just girls, there were plenty of boys, some of which hadn't hidden their feelings toward Friedrich. She politely turned them down.

Friedrich had never been expecting Mr Benedict to walk into the room. Not everyone knew his face, - some didn't even know the school was privately owned by one man - but Friedrich did. Out of habit she peered over her book when she saw the door to the room open in the corner of her eye.

And in that moment, in the time of a storm, the building suffered a power cut. The lights cut out suddenly, causing a few squeals from the members of the club, but the window was still providing ample sunlight, so the panic was short lived.

ot for Mr Benedict however. The high sun didn't cast enough light to catch his face. He was just a pudgy man who's head was swallowed by shadow.

Friedrich set her book and tea aside and got up to greet him, out of politeness.

"Afternoon, Mr Benedict," she bowed.

"Afternoon, madam. Are you by chance the maiden who goes by the name Friedrich? Love the jacket, by the way. I'm an admirer of war memorabilia myself."

Friedrich's face flushed red, at first because she was flattered by the kind words, but then because was nervous as to what he might be here to ask her.

"Yes, I am."

"Wonderful," he clapped his hands together, "From what I've heard, you're the owner of th rather successful history club, right?"

"Yes... I am..."

"So you have experience with administration?"

"Yes... I do..."

"I have a business offer."

And the rest, as they say, is history.

"I'm so glad Daddy got the tank instead of the puppy," said Emgie, uploading the group photo to the cloud.

Bellagio huffed.

"I still wouldn't have said no to one," she said.

"It's alright Bellagio," Ocean smirked, leaping back on to the armchair to get back to her gambling, "You don't have to admit you're actually pleased that he got you the Nahuel and you secretly really enjoy Tankery."

Bellagio balled her fists and her face scrunched into an expression of fury. She hated it when Ocean rode her high horse and acted like she knew everything. Especially when she was right.

"Tea, sir?"

"Yes please, Minamoto," Mr Benedict replied.

It had been a couple of hours later. Mr Benedict had bags under his eyes and was still in his dressing gown. Despite sleeping well and getting an early night, he felt completely drained. It was the way he was being woken up every other morning.

He sat in his study, admiring the reflections of the sun cast off of the blue sea through the window.

"I'm at my wit's end, Minamoto."

"This set-up does strike me with a sense of deja vu, sir, I must admit."

"Tankery was a good idea. It's got them out the house more but it's the noise! They're more ferocious to each other than ever! It must be the tanks. They're making them violent," he said it more as an observational statement rather than something he was disappointed over.

"Perhaps, sir, a bit of family bonding is in order?"

"You mean like a games night?"

"No, sir. I mean a holiday. When was the last time you went on a holiday as a family?"

Mr Benedict thought pensively for a moment, and then said, "Do you know, I don't even think Ocean was with us since our last."

He slumped in his chair as the realisation hit him. It really had been a long time since he took the girls - or even his wife - out to anywhere. He then started clapping his hands together excitedly.

"Oh, thank you, Minamoto! Ideas are flooding into my head already! Tell you what, you can have the rest of the day off!"

"Deja vu indeed, sir."

Mr Benedict flung the doors to the lounge open, fully dressed, face fresh.

"Girls, pack your bags! We're going on a holiday!"

"Oh yay!" whooped Emgie, "A grand holiday!"

Ocean and Bellagio's ears pricked up to the news.

"Is that a good idea?" asked Mirage, "What about school?"

"I own the school!" said Mr Benedict, "A few days away won't do you girls any harm!"

"So, where are we going?" asked Bellagio, and she along with Mirage, Ocean and Emgie in order vocalised their wishful thoughts, "The Caribbean?"

"Greece?"

"England?"

"The Grand Canyon?"

"Egypt!" Mr Benedict announced with wide arms.

All four girls simultaneously raised an eyebrow.

"Specifically, we shall be admiring the scenes of war!"

"Oh great. It's not going to be another war museum tour, is it Daddy?"

"No, Bella dearest. Even better! We're going directly to the source! We are going to admire the battlefields that saw the genius minds of two of World War Two's greatest generals!"

The four girls gulped in anticipation.

"We shall be taking a tour across the desert where the North African Campaign took place!"

Bellagio dropped her phone. Ocean dropped her jaw. Mirage's eyes simply widened in horror.

"Yay!" Emgie leapt around. "A holiday!"