Treasure

by K. T. Tomb

  “Something, shall we say,” Demetri joined in, using the same tone, “of regal value?”

  “Regal value?” the man asked. “I might have such an item, if you have the necessary funds.”

  Sirita laughed softly. “The funds will not be a problem.”

  “Are you particular about how it was acquired by me?”

  “What do you mean by that?” Demetri asked, faking innocence. He was convincing.

  “I mean that you don’t mind how the item you purchase came to be in my possession.”

  “You mean like…” Sirita paused and lowered her voice to a point where it was little more than a whisper. “If it was stolen?”

  There was no audible reply, but all three of the teams and Oscar saw the man smile and shrug.

  “Can such a thing be done securely?” Demetri asked. “Do you understand what I mean by that? We don’t want to have any problems with the authorities.”

  “It can be done securely, but it is not something that we can do right now and not in this shop.”

  “I’m a little nervous doing business that way,” Sirita responded.

  “I can assure you that I will make all of the proper arrangements to make certain that the transaction is secure. After all, I would not stay in business long if I was not careful in these situations, no?”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Demetri answered.

  “It would be helpful if you could be a little bit more specific about the particular item you’re looking for,” the man pressed. “What do you mean by regal item?”

  Sirita hesitated a moment. “We were hoping to find a very particular item, actually. One that is really only rumored to be available.”

  “Rumored,” the man repeated.

  Demetri leaned in close and spoke in a whisper. “The crown of Marie Antoinette.”

  The man started laughing. “Rumored, indeed. That particular item can be seen in the Louvre and I am certain that it is not for sale. Is there anything else that might interest you? Some other ‘rumored’ item, perhaps?”

  “I don’t believe so,” Demetri replied abruptly and with a tone of disgust. “Let’s go, Darling. I’m not particularly fond of this particular gentleman.”

  “Certainly, my love,” Sirita responded. “It seems that he would prefer to mock us than to do business.”

  “I did not intend to insult you,” the man protested. “I have other items of great value and great interest.”

  “Ignore him,” Sirita whispered.

  The camera showed them turning away, making a beeline for the door and returning to the limo. Back inside the limo, Sirita and Demetri donned their earpieces and checked in.

  “Great job guys,” Chyna praised. “Wolf, you have truly become a gentleman.”

  There was no response, though Thorin snorted beside her, fighting back his laughter.

  “We need to stay sharp, Watchers,” she said into the microphone, but directing her gaze toward Thorin, who became immediately serious again.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am,” Thorin said. “It won’t happen again.”

  “It can’t,” she replied. “I know it’s funny, but I need you.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay,” Chyna began delivering orders again. “Two is on point and one will take the rear. Three hang back and see if anything develops and then rendezvous at our next target.”

  “Two copies.”

  “Three copies.”

  At the second shop, the conversation with the owner followed a very similar pattern, though both Sirita and Demetri were a bit more relaxed and beginning to have more fun playing their roles. She hoped that their enjoyment wouldn’t hamper their execution or cause them to over act as they moved on to the third shop.

  “I hope this one works,” Chyna commented to Thorin as they took up their position for the third time.

  “It’ll work,” Thorin assured her.

  “It’ll have to,” Chyna sighed and then opened her mic to talk to Oscar. “Control, how are we on the perimeter?”

  “Like the town of the visiting team on a Texas Friday night in the fall,” Oscar replied.

  “Control!” she snapped.

  “All quiet, Watcher One,” he answered.

  “Everybody look sharp,” she said. “This is the one. It’s not the time to get complacent.”

  “Copy,” the others replied.

  Chapter Eleven

  As the same conversation seemed to be playing out at the third location where Chyna and her team were running their sting, she was certain that they had failed entirely, all the way up until she heard these words come from the shop owner’s mouth.

  “I don’t know how you know about the crown, but it will require a considerable investment just to get a look at it. Do you understand?” the shop owner said.

  There was some hesitation and Chyna was sure that Sirita and Demetri’s surprise at his response would blow the entire operation.

  “We were prepared for that,” Demetri replied. The timing of the response, as it turned out, was perfect and added a great deal of legitimacy to Sirita and Demetri’s characters. “What process do we need to follow in order to view the item?”

  “You’ll need to return this evening when I close the shop with one million Euros,” the man replied.

  “One million Euros?” Sirita gasped. “That’s quite a bargain.”

  “Oh, that’s not the price,” the man responded. “The price will be 15 million Euros. The one million is just to see the item.”

  “Agreed,” Demetri said with finality. His confidence in that moment was priceless. Had it been left up to Sirita, she would have balked and the entire operation would have been blown.

  “I will arrange for you to see the item this evening at 8:00 p.m.,” the man said with finality.

  “You may bring an independent assayer to determine its authenticity if you wish.”

  “You can be assured that we will,” Demetri responded.

  “Very well, 8:00 p.m. tonight then,” the man said, looking after them as Sirita and Demetri left the shop.

  “Okay Watchers, keep a close eye,” Chyna ordered as Sirita and Demetri left the shop.

  Nothing happened as Sirita and Demetri left the shop and made their way out to the limo. If they had walked into a trap, what they did between that moment and 8 o’clock that evening would make an enormous difference in how things went down.

  “Two, you take point again,” Chyna directed. “Three, do a sweep of the entire area and put together a plan for putting our people in place this evening. Get as many eyes up as you can I want to be able to see inside our shop owner’s shorts if necessary. We’ll see you back at the hotel no later than 5:00, got it? Everything we do from this point on is hypercritical to pulling this off.”

  “Copy,” they each replied.

  Thorin and Chyna started off trailing a decent distance behind the limo, which took a lazy, meandering route on its way back to the hotel.

  “They’ve got a tail,” Thorin pointed out after a few minutes.

  “Control, Caribou and Wolf have a tail. Can you pick up whoever it is with the eyes on the limo?” she asked.

  “I’ll patch that feed to you now,” Oscar replied.

  There were cameras in the boomerang shaped antenna on top of the limo, allowing a 360-degree view outside the limo.

  Chyna watched the screen change as Thorin kept his eyes directly ahead.

  “I’ve got the feed,” Chyna announced. “Which one is it, Thorin?”

  “Black SUV about five cars back.”

  Chyna scanned the screen. “Give me a zoom on the black SUV about five cars back, Control.”

  As the camera zoomed in, Oscar, Lana and Chyna all recognized him at the same time. “That’s Antoine,” they each announced in their radio mics in unison.

  “Two, stick with Caribou and Wolf and RTB. One will stick with our bogey.”

  “Copy.”

  “What’s your plan, boss?” Thorin asked
.

  “My plan is to nab his ass and use him to get that crown,” she replied. “But keep an eye out for Tony. If Antoine is part of his set up, then we have to be careful.”

  Antoine stayed on the limo until it pulled into the parking garage at the hotel and then continued past. It was exactly what they expected, but without the camera from the limo, they were somewhat blind and they had to stick to him the old-fashioned way.

  Thinking that he was in the clear and that he was the hunter instead of the prey, Antoine continued on his way into a rather upscale neighborhood of single family dwellings.

  “Interpol and or the French National Police pay better than I thought,” Chyna commented.

  Thorin grunted a response, but stayed focused. He couldn’t afford to get distracted and tip off Antoine.

  They watched as he pulled into a driveway two blocks ahead of them and Thorin turned off. To drive past the house would have been a dead giveaway, not to mention that the move might have been designed to reveal a tail.

  “Take me up two blocks on a parallel street and drop me off,” Chyna ordered. “You give me about five minutes and then cruise back in front of the house. Make a single pass and then come back and pull into the driveway. That will draw his eyes to the front of the house while I go in the back. Go to the door and ask for somebody, doesn’t matter who. I’ll let you know when I’m inside.”

  Thorin grinned and shook his head. “I think I should be hiring you to protect me. You got some balls, boss.”

  “Yeah, well, I still might need you to bail my ass out, so don’t wander off.”

  Chyna slipped out the door and started casually down the street until she came to the alley which would pass behind Antoine’s house. She hoped it was Antoine’s house. She continued down the alley until she was adjacent to the house. Please don’t have a dog. Antoine didn’t seem to have a dog. He didn’t need one. He had a security system that was far more effective than a dog. She was going to need a little extra time to disarm it.

  “I’ve got a security system from hell,” she informed Thorin on her mic. “You may have to buy me a little extra time.”

  “Copy. Pulling into the driveway now.”

  It wasn’t Chyna’s first time disarming a security system. She did it while listening to the sounds of Thorin’s conversation with Antoine. In less time than she thought, she was through the back door and moving silently from one room to the next, praying that Antoine was alone.

  “I’m in,” she whispered, realizing that Thorin would have had to take his earpiece out when he went to the door. Guess we’ll be playing this a little bit blind. She heard the front door close and then heard Antoine coming back down the hallway. She leveled the SIG and stepped around the corner, aiming it directly at his head.

  “Hi Antoine,” she said in a cheerful tone. “Remember me?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Diary of the Queen

  17 November 1770

  So now, the Comtesse de Noailles can sleep easy in her bed at night for the unruly dauphine has learnt her role and assumed her gentile place at Versailles!

  It has been exactly six months but at last, success! The hardest part for me has been the horrifying spectacle that is the Grand Couvert. Though it is the same every day, it doesn’t seem to be something I will ever get used to. I hate being watched and more so when it’s obvious that I am being judged by every one of our spectators. As a means of lightening the mealtime mood, I have requested that musicians be brought in for my enjoyment.

  Eat. Change Clothes. Eat. Change Clothes. This is my grim summary of the afternoon of the dauphin and dauphine of France. How terribly boring and yet we suffer in silence. One would think that if anyone had the power to free themselves from this debacle it would be us. Hence the music… since I refuse to be bored out of my mind day in and day out.

  When Louis and I sit down to dine, there are always spectators. The ladies with titles perch themselves on folding chairs on each side of the dining table while those without titles stand behind them. This is the Grand Couvert and apparently, it is a privilege to have the honor of watching the king and queen eat. I prefer not to be the scheduled mealtime entertainment, so now at least with music, the members of Louis and my respective households might be less bored.

  After the meal, I often return to my rooms to change for my evening schedule. I try to keep the afternoons busy to compensate for the complete atrocity of mealtime. This is my favorite time of day. Often, there is a play or a small concert commissioned for the palace theatre. Sometime we attend the opera or a party.

  Marie.

  ***

  “You’re making a very big mistake, Chyna,” Antoine told her, being careful to keep his hands where she could see them. “I am a detective for the French National Police and I have a number of powerful connections in Interpol.”

  “One of those connections wouldn’t be the FBI rogue Anthony Stewart, would it?” she asked.

  “He was one of those connections until he went rogue, just like you said,” Antoine responded. “If you’re still connected with him, you’re walking a very thin and shaky line.”

  “Well, Anthony and I are no longer associated, so I think my footing is firm enough. Make yourself comfortable on the sofa there, but just be careful how you move. I don’t want to mistake your actions for something that I perceive to be a threat to my person. My partner will be back in a minute.”

  “Your partner,” he chuckled. “Hulk Hogan out there?”

  “That would be the one. Here he is now.”

  Thorin came in and took over watching Antoine, allowing Chyna to relax a little bit.

  “So, Antoine, tell me about the crown,” she began as she slid into an adjacent armchair.

  “What crown?”

  “Do we really have to play this game?”

  “I don’t have any crown. I don’t even know what crown you’re talking about.”

  Chyna clicked her tongue. “You’re not doing very well, Antoine. You see, I have connections in Interpol too. They would be very interested to know that I have discovered that instead of finding the Jeweled Crown of Marie Antoinette and returning it to the Louvre, you’ve been holding onto it and hoping for a buyer to come along. I believe the price you’ve set it 15 million Euros. Am I right?”

  “What do you want?” His eyes narrowed after hearing the price she quoted.

  “I’d like to know what you and Anthony Stewart are up to,” Chyna replied.

  “I’m no longer associated with Stewart,” he snapped.

  “You said that, but how am I supposed to believe you, since the two of you were such good buddies before?”

  “That was before he betrayed me,” he snarled.

  Chyna had seen the look in his eyes before. She’d seen them in the mirror on the wall of a cabin outside of Deadhorse, Alaska. She knew that he was no longer associated with Tony, but she also knew that he wasn’t telling her the whole truth. Suddenly, however, an idea came to her. She could get the crown and burn Tony all at once and she could use Antoine to do it. She smiled as the idea took shape in her mind. Antoine was the perfect way to pull one of those Roadrunner moves on Tony.

  “I just thought of a splendid idea. I want to burn Tony and I need the crown to do it. You want to burn Tony and you have the crown. What say we work together?”

  “I don’t have the crown,” Antoine replied.

  Chyna could tell that he was lying. “Antoine, lying to me isn’t a very good way to start off our new partnership.”

  “How do I know that you’re on the level?” he asked.

  “Well,” she said, rising from her seat and heading toward the door while Thorin kept Antoine under his gaze. “I guess you won’t know, but you’ll have plenty of time to think about it after I make a call to Interpol and let them know where they can find the Jeweled Crown that went missing from the Louvre about two years ago. They’ll be delighted to inform the French National Police that the lead investigator on the case
found and kept the crown for himself so he could put together a very nice retirement fund.”

  “Fine, but the crown doesn’t leave my hands until we’ve busted Tony.”

  “Agreed,” Chyna responded.

  “I’ll need assurances that you won’t tell your story to Interpol.”

  “I’m thinking that once we have Tony, we can pin the theft of the crown on him. You’ll lose your retirement fund, but you’ll stay out of prison. That sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

  She turned back toward him and leaned in very close to his face as she spoke. “But I will need to see the crown before we shake on it, if you don’t mind.”

  Chyna and Thorin followed Antoine into a library with books lining three of the walls. Antoine went to a specific book, pulled it out, activated a switch and the shelf slid several feet back, revealing a vault door to one side. He opened the vault, reached in, pulled out an item wrapped in purple velvet. He placed it on the desk and unwrapped it. It was, indeed, the Jeweled Crown of Marie Antoinette and it was stunning.

  “Control, Two and Three,” Chyna said into her mic. “Abort what you’re doing. We’ve got a new plan.”

  “Copy,” they all replied.

  “What’s up, One?” Lana’s voice came through her earpiece.

  “We’ve got the crown. We’ll meet you back at base.”

  “You had a team on this?” Antoine asked, knowing that he was screwed. The expression on his face sank.

  “Don’t worry, Antoine,” she laughed. “We still have our deal. We’re still going to nail that son of a bitch.” She snarled as she said the last part, bringing the point home for Antoine.

  “For your protection and mine, however, I’m going to have to bring you and the crown along with me.”

  Antoine hesitated a moment as Thorin stepped toward him and took hold of his arm. The fingers of his massive hand nearly touched around Antoine’s bicep.

  “Don’t worry. Thorin is now your new best friend,” she beamed.

  Chyna rewrapped the crown in the velvet cloth, closed the vault door, activated the switch on the bookshelf and then turned back toward the other two, scooping up the crown and clutching it to her chest.