Fifty-six steps later, they heard the grinding noise of metal against metal before a cloud of dust followed by a heap of pebble-filled sand funneled down the chimney onto their faces.
“Come on then. The coast is clear,” the count’s whispered voice echoed down toward them, and the trio spotted the starry night sky behind Etiénne’s silhouetted head.
It wasn’t long before Alex, Sam, and an annoyed Josephine joined their expedition leader in the middle of a landscaped garden maze in the fresh Paris night air.
“You’re really pushing my buttons tonight, Etiénne. What’s this?” Josephine scowled.
“Well, it’s a maze of course mon chérie. Isn’t it romantic?”
Josephine stomped into one of the paths in search of the exit, mumbling obscene French words under her breath.
“This way, mon chérie, I’d hate to see you hit a dead end,” the count chuckled, to which his wife made a short, low clucking sound with her tongue and rushed with heavy steps past him.
“I would ease up on her if I were you, Etiénne,” Sam said playfully before adding, “you might sleep on the couch tonight.”
“That’s where you two young ones have it wrong, my friend. This is how true Frenchmen make love. This playful banter will turn into French passion in no time. She’ll never admit it, but that old wife of mine loves it. We’ll be married forty years this coming spring, and I can tell you from experience, I have her right where I want her.”
Amused by their new-found friend’s entertaining display of affection, Alex and Sam followed the French couple through the maze to where it finally opened in the expansive gardens of Versailles.
“And voila!” the count declared triumphantly, grabbing his wife around her waist and nuzzling his face in her neck. Much to Alex and Sam’s surprise, it seemed Etiénne was indeed accurate as they watched how Josephine responded by playfully pretending to push her husband away from her before throwing her arms around his neck.
“Now that’s one for my notebook,“ Sam mumbled.
“Don’t bet on it. That won’t work on me, mister,” Alex responded firmly, before adding, “I suggest we get back to our hotel before they find us.”
“Alex, if they followed us here, trust me, they know where we’re staying.”
“So you’re saying we don’t go back to the hotel? Then we’d need to find Philippe and insist he takes us to this Mr. Anonymous or whatever his name is. We’re being hunted and at the same time led down a rabbit hole to who knows where.”
“Are you joining us for a late dinner and a nightcap? I know this great little brasserie in Butte Montmartre near the Sacré Coeur. The only place in Paris you truly experience romance.”
“That sounds lovely, Etiénne, and hard to refuse, but we’re going to bid you adieu and hope to see you again soon. Our evening was nothing but one to remember forever, thank you,” Sam replied, and as the couples parted ways, Alex and Sam hastily set off in search of Philippe.
Chapter Ten
Confident their illustrious escape yielded them safe from their stalkers they followed the narrow graveled path as Etiénne had directed. The trail stretched its way between tall orange and cedar trees each marking the edge of their respective groves. Rich notes of nature's citrus perfume hung heavily in the air, and it wasn't long before they reached their marker. The Ceres Fountain wasn't as impressive as Josephine had made it out to be and consisted of a few bronzed statues in the center of a medium-sized square structure.
"Anything about this say 'summer' to you? Looks like a fancy frog pond to me," Sam commented.
Alex had thought the same but before she could respond the metal clanging sound of a bullet hitting the bronzed statue echoed through the thin night air. Forced to take the only cover available, Alex and Sam dropped face down behind the low wall surrounding the fountain. The unforeseen attack had caught them off their guard, affording them no time to draw their guns. Alex wrestled with the heavy baroque dress in an effort to reach for the firearm that she had strapped to her thigh underneath the skirt of her dress. Unable to do so, she flipped onto her back, narrowly escaping another bullet that hit the barely-there wall above her head. A brief second later and she yanked her gun from the holster and fired a single shot off over her head toward the direction the attack came from.
"Weasels! How did they find us?" Sam fumed as he pulled his gun from the small of his back.
"No idea, I thought we’d lost them. We're sitting ducks here, Sam. I'll go first, back toward the groves. Cover me!"
Sam fired off three bullets as Alex ran for the trees. Safely behind the thick trunk of a tall orange tree, she reciprocated until Sam reached the tree next to her. From their improved vantage point, they spotted the orange flashes of the gunmen hidden in the groves on the opposite side of the fountain. Another bullet flashed through the air and sliced through the skirt of Alex's huge dress. If she were to make it out alive, she'd have to dispose of the ridiculous costume which was affecting her mobility. Unable to undo the tiny buttons on the back of the dress, she instead used the rough bark of the tree and tore a small slit in the fabric just below her waist. As Sam fired off another two bullets, she ripped the fabric leaving her with a simple black slip dress she had had the sense to wear underneath.
"Much better!" Sam remarked mischievously, firing off another few shots, "but are you leaving it to me to do all the shooting here tonight? I'm almost out of bullets,” he added.
But Alex's attention remained fixed on the tiny silver tracker barely visible in one of the buttons of her dress that now lay on the ground next to her.
"Get your clothes off!" she yelled at Sam as she took over from him and fired two bullets at one of the gunmen, hitting him in the shoulder.
"Did the French air get to you?"
"Strip, Sam! They've got trackers in."
With far less effort, it didn't take Sam long before he too was down to his boxers and a T-shirt.
"Let's make a run for it through the groves. I'm almost out of bullets. We'll head down the back on this side. Toss your clothes behind the next tree," Alex suggested.
The decoy worked, and while the pair ran toward the center of the grove behind them, the gunmen opened fire at the pile of clothes they’d thrown behind the trees opposite them. The lush foliage prevented any moonlight from penetrating the thick canopy above their heads as Alex and Sam ran in the direction of the palace between the dense trees. The night was eerily quiet, and the autumn chill summoned an opaque mist from the nearby stream that meandered between the giant trees behind them. The spiky heels of her shoes disappeared beneath the wet mulch that surrounded the trees—making it all the harder to run. She briefly stopped and broke the heels off her shoes. When they neared the place Etiénne had indicated the secluded VIP parking area was to the side of the palace, several drivers stood huddled under a large cedar tree nearby, their position only made visible by half a dozen glowing orange lights and the robust tobacco odored cloud that wafted in the chilly night breeze around them. As hoped for, the parked white Phantom was amongst a small fleet of VIP vehicles in the allocated parking area just inside the central gardens.
"There!" Sam pointed out; quickly spotting it amongst the pool of black and silver vehicles that flanked its sides.
"Do you think Philippe smokes?"
"All French men smoke as far as I know," Sam replied, "but we don't have much time to go find him amongst that bunch. Those thugs can't be far behind. With any luck, he's in the car waiting for us. Besides, may I remind you we're in our underwear."
Apart from the subdued chatter of the drivers who assembled at the furthest end of the parking area, there was no one else in sight. Approaching the car, they could just about make out Philippe's silhouette behind the steering wheel.
"Not in the mood to hang with the others, Philippe?" Sam teased as he and Alex fell into the back seat. "Let's crack on, mate. We picked up some bad company inside," Sam said. Philippe didn't respond.
"Hey, Phili
ppe, wake up, mate," Sam tapped on the window partitioning.
"Something's amiss, Sam."
Sam had sensed it too and was halfway out the car already, moments later yanking open the driver's door. "That's because the chap is dead."
"They got to him. Who are these people?"
"Not sure, but we need to get out of here before they catch us on camera with a dead body in hand and we end up in a Parisian prison in our underwear. Take Philippe's feet, Alex. Help me move him to the back seat. Hurry.”
It didn't take them long to load the dead driver in the back of the car before Sam eagerly slipped behind the wheel joined by Alex in the passenger seat.
"This is a dream come true. I've always wanted to drive a Phantom."
"An innocent man is dead, Sam, not to mention he was our only link to Mr. Anonymous. How are we supposed to find the man now?"
"Do we have to? I mean, if we find him, I have to give back his car."
"Very funny. Are you going to drive this thing or let them catch up with us again?"
Alex flipped open the console between their seats and rummaged through a couple of old receipts. When her search turned up empty, she moved over to the glove box and paused when the automated cigar box popped open.
"Don't mind if I do, thank you," Sam motioned for her to hand him one of the expensive cigars while he turned the key in the ignition.
"Since when do you smoke?"
"I don't, but I've never driven a Rolls either, so I might as well live in the moment."
Alex ignored his witticism. She had come to know that her fiancée used his sharp wit and humor to conceal his discomfort and stress. It was how he managed to remain calm in extreme circumstances.
Still poking around in the glove box her hand settled on the cold metal she had become all too familiar with and seconds later she held a small silver and black revolver.
"Well, how about that. Why would a driver be carrying if he wasn't expecting danger?" Sam ventured suspiciously.
"Drive, Sam. We need to get out of here. We'll take a chance and go to our hotel. With the trackers gone, it buys us some time, but I'm not sure it will be for long. At least now we know how they've managed to be one step ahead all this time. If we're lucky, they're thinking we're still somewhere hiding in the gardens."
"Or not. Buckle up!"
Sam had spotted the four men approaching the parking lot from the corner of his eye and with no time to waste, backed out of the bay and sped off toward the long road leading out from the palace gates, leaving a giant cloud of dust in their wake.
"Whoever these guys are, they're good," Sam remarked as he watched them run for their car in the rear-view mirror. "Any idea where we should go?”
"No, there's nothing here. No vehicle registration papers, license, ID, not even a map … nothing."
"Well, we'd better find something, they are right behind us."
Alex swung around in her seat and spotted the silver Mercedes gaining on them. The road that led from Versailles was a long narrow road shouldered by rows of tall trees on either side.
"Can this fancy car go any faster?"
Sam didn't have to be invited twice. His foot pushed down on the accelerator, and the powerful engine roared down the road. And not a moment too soon. When the first bullets whistled through the air and hit the rear of their car, Alex slipped the magazine of her gun out into her hand.
"I'm almost out. Five at the most."
Another bullet hit the tailgate leaving a loud clanking noise to echo through the quietness of the night. She ducked down into the seat and Sam pushed down harder on the accelerator firing up all twelve of the Phantom's cylinders. As they neared the end of the road, he flicked a switch overriding the automatic gearbox to manual mode improving its maneuverability in doing so. Up ahead, a road sign signaled for them to turn left, heading toward Paris. The Phantom's tires screeched as they turned the corner. The road opened up into a two-lane highway that snaked its way through a residential suburb. Much to their regret, it wasn't long before they heard the screeching wheels of their huntsmen.
"We've got to shake these guys, Sam!" Alex switched her attention to the console in search of a button. "Where do you open this window?" She was referring to the glass partitioning between the front and rear seats. With Sam entirely focused on his driving as he turned another corner and Alex unable to locate the button on the console to open the panel, she thrust her gun's handle into the glass pane. It didn't shatter on the first blow, so she hit it again, this time with more force but still it didn't break.
"It's a shatterproof pane, Alex," Sam commented while he pushed a controller switch on the steering wheel. "Next time say please."
Alex snickered. "Hold it steady please, I'm climbing over."
It was a brief moment before Alex found herself in the backseat searching through Philippe's pockets. Another shot hit the rear window, leaving the slightest of dents in the glass.
"Well, what do you know? It's bulletproof," Sam announced with delight. "Hold on!" he warned as he dropped a gear, slammed on the brakes and swung the car around to face the shooters. The unexpected tactic forced their assailants to swerve to avoid hitting the Phantom head-on and in doing so, resulted in them losing control of their car. Alex and Sam watched as the silver Mercedes rolled several times before landing upside down off the shoulder of the road. Seconds later a thunderous noise reverberated through the streets when the car exploded into flames.
"Ha-ha! That'll teach them not to mess with us! Take that, you twits! Did you see that, love? Didn't know your fiancée had it in him, huh?"
"Great job, now please get us out of here before the police arrive,” said Alex, taking up her place in the passenger seat again.
"Find anything while you were back there?"
Alex held out her fisted hand and slowly released her fingers, palm up.
Chapter Eleven
"He's one of them? Damn him! I actually liked the guy," Sam banged his hand on the steering wheel as they sped off.
"Don't beat yourself up, Sam. We should know by now, in this line of work, we can't trust anyone, ever!"
"I don't understand. Why bring us here, put us up in a fancy hotel, essentially treat us like royalty only to have us killed by his own men? It doesn't make sense. I don't buy it."
"I agree. Something doesn't add up. We need to find out what these chess pieces are and who this guy really is."
"Yeah, but how? Where do we even start? We have one dead man on the back seat, and we possibly left more back there, not to mention that we're driving in a stolen car."
Alex rolled the small brass pawn between her fingers and stared out the window. "Stop! Pull over." She had spotted a clothing line on the small terrace of a ground floor apartment. It was well into the night, and all the lights were off. It seemed like an easy opportunity, and when Sam brought the car to a halt in the narrow street to the side of the apartment, Alex quietly slipped out and disappeared into the darkness. A mere minute later, she fell into the front seat with a matching pair of stone-washed jeans and a couple of shirts.
When they were back on the road again, Sam spoke, still tugging at the too-small jeans pinching his groin. "We're not far from the city. We’re going to need to get rid of Philippe's body."
"Maybe the river? I saw some road signs back there."
Sam turned back and followed the road leading to the Seine, "Good idea, the last thing we need is the cops also hunting us down. We're going to need to weigh his body down, so he doesn't float. Not that I have experience in dumping dead bodies, but it's what they do on TV. I guess it makes sense, medically speaking."
When they reached the area by the river, they quickly discovered that it would be nearly impossible to dump the body without being spotted. Several houseboats were moored along the banks, and the corpse would most likely be caught on the guide ropes somewhere between them. They followed an arterial road to where it passed underneath a bridge, and a small secluded parking area sat
snug between ample shrubbery directly on the banks of the river. Deciding it would be the most feasible of spots, they parked the car and pulled Philippe from the back seat, dragging his body behind the nearby concrete pillar that supported the bridge.
"Wait! I need his pants and shoes. These jeans will destroy any chance of having children with you," Sam said in a voice filled with guilt. “Besides it will just make him even more buoyant. Take off his jacket and shirt too and see if you can find some large stones or bricks lying around."
As they watched Philippe's corpse sink beneath the dirty green water of the Seine, police sirens shrieked in the distance.
"Let's get out of here," Alex urged.
For the next thirty minutes, they aimlessly drove through the streets of Paris. It was past three a.m. and, apart from the odd few young adults still enjoying a night out, the city was, for the most part, quiet. Neither Sam nor Alex spoke, each allowing the other to digest the night's events. It was only when the low vibrations of a mobile phone rang that the couple's thoughts were interrupted.
"Where's that coming from?" Alex whispered, "It's a phone. Listen."
Sam pulled the car off the road and homed in on the vibrations. "It's under my seat," he said, reaching down between his legs. The vibrations stopped as soon as Sam found the phone under his seat.
"He must have dropped it during the attack," Alex remarked. "Can you see who rang him?"
"No caller ID, and it gets worse. We need his thumb to get past the biometrics."
Alex sank back into her seat. "Does this car have Bluetooth? Maybe its synced."
"It does, but if it were, it would have rung through the car's speakers. Let's wait and see if he calls back. It might be Mr. A since Philippe never made it home."
The Dauphin Deception Page 8
