Since arriving in Paris and assessing the situation as well as she could (basically making the determination that it was a dangerous one), Nina had settled into something like a state of mind that had a default of high alert. She caught Sherri's jump though and swore out loud in Spanish for a couple seconds even as she began to move towards the shouts, cursing herself for giving this away. If they ever got out of this, she was going to have to make sure Sherri wouldn't say a thing to anyone. If they couldn't come to an agreement on that, she would have to be taken care of and Nina didn't particularly like leaving a trail of bodies wherever she went, particularly in her own time.
Down the alley she spotted the girl, cornered between two rather tall, broad shouldered men, both of whom looked to be in their mid-twenties and who (Nina guessed) worked construction or did another type of intensive manual labor from the way they were built. Their cockades were tied haphazardly and the one closest to them had a basket turned over at his feet and was holding a few bottles of wine. He looked extraordinarily pleased with himself and was looking on as his companion pinned the wrists of the girl (who couldn't have been older than 14) to the side of the building with one of his huge hands. Apparently growing tired of her screams for help, he drew an arm back and struck her hard across the face.
"Ta gueule, putain," he snarled in a voice that made Nina's blood run cold for a moment as he reached for the girl's skirt. She fired a shot without hesitation, driving the bullet straight into the back of the second man's head.