Mission Control is in the back of a Jag

Sophie-Adette-Marie was also in the car, reclining silkily on the far side of La Tantesse. SAM was a veteran member of the team, based out of Mission Control, and Nancy knew to be deferential to her every whim. Sven/Sven-Ericc held the door open still. Nancy bent herself into the gleaming vehicle, and they sped off.
La Tantesse was exactly where she likes to be in life - surrounded by jaw-dropping sex symbols. Smothered by protruding cheek and collar bones, make-up and legs covering almost every inch of the luxurious backseat. La Tantesse lived to possess the things she could not be - beautiful, young, fashionable.
A fat, froglike woman of over 60, La Tantesse's brown skin was withered and wrinkled from a lifetime of moisturizing failure. She dressed in Carhart vests and other practical outdoor gear, right down to the Birkenstocks on her chipped and un-pedicured, reeking feet. But La Tantesse ran Mission Control. She was the very raison-d'etre of the Organization, the Head of its long and tentacled body. Every ILSM loved and feared her. Loved her for her power, her inconceivable wealth...and loathed her for the decision of life and death she held over them all.
As soon as the car veered away from the Lyon airport La Tantesse placed one hand on each Supermodel's upper, UPPER thigh. OK, more like placed one hand on each supermodel's lower Poonani. So to speak. "Together Again, My Lovelies!" she crowed. "And our little Nancy Drew is lost. She cannot solve the Case of the Curious Sushi without our help? hahahahahahahaha!"
La Tantesse stomped her one good foot on the ground in mirth, kicking away the Platinum Cartier cane (styled to look like a practical Alpine walking stick) that lay on the floor of the car. When Nancy bent to retrieve the cane, SAM and La Tantesse both noticed the curve of her sexy American leather-clad breasts. And they both liked what they saw.
"Well we will show you, our little Nancy. We will show you our little sushi problem. But it is you who will face this danger alone, in the end." She leaned forward, dangerously close to Sven/Sven-Ericc's perfect ears. "We will go see a Tunisian. We demand cocaine-laced Kebabs and gallons of wine!"
Nancy did not interrupt to point out that the gentleman selling kebabs and wine was probably actually Lebanese. One does not correct La Tantesse. In the shadows, SAM smoked slowly, watching the lights flicker by on Nancy's face.