Kingsman: The French Connection

One

Trigger Warning: all the fights and kills from our baddie and heroes in the story will be theatrical like the Kingsman storyline.

A restaurant in the countryside of France 🇫🇷

The patrons of a restaurant all plead and scream for mercy. They huddle nervously under tables, clutching hands, and each other for comfort. On the stage a lone man with a bass guitar slung low in his back, belts out ABBA from the karaoke machine. His snake skin, leather blue pants hung on his waist with a white open collared peasant top flapping around wildly. Take A Chance On Me, drones on from the speakers as he shimmies his hips with his fingers on a piano, singing in a microphone. Breathless, he stands up from the stool, and he takes the mic with him. He asks the crowd to sing along, shoving into scared people's mouths. "SING!" He demands, shoving the tip into their mouths. Tears stream down as they are forced to sing, quietly.

He walked back up to the stage and put on headphones. The thick headset, sat on his ears as he slung a bass guitar over his shoulder. He took a guitar pick from his pocket and kicked on an amp with his alligator boot. He raised his arm to the sky, and let it land hard on the guitar strings with the pick.

The sound waves ricocheted from the neck of the guitar. It hit the people's ears so hard and loud they burst as he played the chorus with loud vibrato. Blood dripped as he let the tune ring out, he dropped the instrument, after the note finished. He watched everyone beg as they clutched their ears all convulsing on the floor. He tossed the headphones off and as he stepped around their limp bodies, and he smiled carelessly.

He stepped out of the bar, carefully shutting the door and wrapped the door with wire behind him. He chuckled maniacally, as ABBA finished with the last of the notes. He hummed the last few notes to himself as he climbed into his car and peeled away. His tires squealed away wildly as he looked behind in the rear view mirror as the whole building burst into flames.

Kentucky USA 🇺🇸

Ding

Eggsy and Harry watched the elevator doors slide open, as the agents of Statesmen rushed around them in jeans. The smell of leather took their noses by storm. Eggsy adjusted his tie as looked around, walking out alongside Harry. Since the Poppy incident, he and Harry have been here every few months since the two agencies had begun working together. But the rush of Americans and overall business on the floor still made him nervous.

He missed Merlin and Roxie. He missed the tailor shop, and the easy life of going to shop and getting outfitted in nice suits and guns that fit so well in his hand. He missed the calm London life he had built. Now it was planes, and jet lag. Meeting new people every few days. He almost hated putting on his glasses and answering the call.

"Right this way, gentleman. Champagne will be with you soon." The secretary led them to the usual seats and shut the door behind her, leaving Harry and Eggsy in the empty meeting room where they'd been meeting with each other for months. Harry unbuttoned his jacket and lowered himself into the leather chair. Letting out a breath as he sat. "Eggsy? Do sit down. Your pacing like a small dog is making me nervous."

Eggsy took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Harry, I'm tired. We are here again for another briefing with the old man. I'm ready to see some action. So far we've just met half dozen agents who look like Poindexter giving us a shit load of new gadgets. I miss my shoes, Bruv." He slid his glasses back on his nose.

"Harry, I'm ready to get back out there." Eggsy walked around the chairs and sat next to his mentor. Plopping down, he threw his foot over his knee, inhaling deeply. "I'm ready for an assignment."

"Well let's get you that assignment, Galahad." The wooden doors flung open abruptly, and Champagne's country accent boomed across the surface of the table. The white haired man stormed through the room and tossed two envelopes in front of the men. "We have a new man trying to overthrow the government in France by playing his guitar. His name is Pierre Laframboise." He clicked a remote and a photo appeared in the space above the center of the table. His face looked above them. "He has known locations in Paris, Monaco, and a small castle in the Alps of Austria. You'll be taking two of my agents with you, and rendezvousing with an agent in our France division called Hommes, in two days. Harry, you'll be with me here in HQ as one of the old farts." Champagne pushed a button and alerted his secretary. "Sheryl, you can tell the gals to join us when they've arrived."