by Simon Hawke
"This is not news to me," said Richelieu, "although I am surprised that you should know of it. The queen gave Buckingham a dozen diamond studs, which were a gift from Louis. Indiscreet, perhaps, but hardly incriminating. She could easily claim that they were lost or stolen or make up some other plausible excuse to explain their disappearance."
"True," said Taylor. "But suppose, just for a moment, Your Eminence, that the king was to give a ball in honor of the queen. And suppose that he requested her, as an indulgence, to wear those very studs she gave to Buckingham."
"She would be unable to produce them," Richelieu said. "Doubtless, she would make some sort of an excuse, as I have told you. Nothing could be proved."
"Ah, but suppose again, Your Eminence, that when the queen claimed the diamond studs were stolen, you had two of them in your possession. Wouldn't it be interesting to see the queen's reaction when you explained how you happened to come by them?"
"I see," said Richelieu. "Yes, that would be quite interesting, indeed. What do you require of me?"
"Some money would be useful," Taylor said, "also some sort of authorization, in your own hand, that would enable me to act freely and without fear of compromise."
Richelieu frowned. "Obviously, I can put nothing of this in writing," he said.
"It will not be necessary," Taylor said. "I do not require a detailed approval of my actions, only your carte blanche. I'm sure that you can word it appropriately."
"That's asking a great deal," said Richelieu.
"The stakes are high, Your Eminence," said Taylor. "I need to protect myself."
"Very well," said Richelieu, after a moment's thought. "I will write you a carte blanche. The moment you have those studs in your possession, you will let me know."
"But, of course, Your Eminence."
The cardinal finished writing, then stood and put on his hat and began pulling on his gloves.
"I do not know why," he said, "but it makes me very nervous to deal with you, Milady. I am never entirely certain whom you serve."
"Why, only you, Your Eminence."
"If I believed that, then I would be a fool, indeed. Our interests seem to be allied for the moment, Milady. For the moment. Take care that we do not start working at cross purposes. I am France, Milady, and at this point in history, France cannot afford to be forgiving. See that you remember that."
"Who am I to go against the course of history, Your Eminence?"
Richelieu regarded Milady steadily. "Yes. Quite. Good day to you, Milady."
"Good day, Your Eminence."
* * * *
Delaney awoke to find a knife held across his throat.
"If I was a terrorist, you'd be dead," said Mongoose. He was dressed as a cleaning woman in a shapeless dress, heavy shoes, and gray wig.
"You look ridiculous," Delaney said. "How did you get in? Oh, of course, these are your rooms, you have a key." He sat up slowly and groaned. "Oh, my head."
"You really think the Timekeepers would need a key?" said Mongoose. "Besides, you left the door open. Not even unlocked, for God's sakes, open. I would at least have thought that you'd be able to hold your liquor. You're a mess."
He went over to the bed where Lucas slept, dead to the world, and slapped him across the face several times.
"Come on, Priest, wake up, I haven't got all day.”
Lucas shot up out of bed, making a grab, but the agent threw him on the floor.
"Commandos," he said, scornfully. "What a joke."
"Mongoose!" Lucas said, getting up unsteadily. "What the hell?"
Both men were still dressed, having fallen into bed fully clothed after a night of heavy drinking. D'Artagnan had insisted upon their meeting the other musketeers and celebrating.
"I take it that the musketeers drank you under the table last night," Mongoose said.
"Actually, D'Artagnan, Aramis, and Porthos were unconscious when we left," said Lucas, rinsing his face off with water from a bowl beside his bed. "Athos was still going strong. He seems to have had lots of experience."
"We saw Buckingham last night," said Finn. "In fact, we helped D'Artagnan save him from—"
"I know all about it, I was there," said Mongoose.
"So it was you!" said Lucas.
"If you're referring to the man killed by the laser, no, it wasn't me," the agent said. "It was a man named Freytag. A real nasty customer with a rather impressive record. I got a good look at him through my scope."
"A terrorist?" said Finn. "Why didn't you take him out?"
"A better question might be why didn't he take you out? He had a clear shot at both of you and it's a cinch he made you. French cavaliers don't usually know karate. You guys are about as subtle as a cavalry charge."
"I don't know what you're complaining about," said Lucas. "Wasn't that the general idea, using us to lure the terrorists out into the open?"
"I'm just puzzled as to why he didn't kill you," Mongoose said. "I find that very interesting. It was an ideal situation for a temporal disruption. All Freytag had to do was kill Buckingham and then take care of you. He could have killed D'Artagnan, too. That would have been one hell of a mess to straighten out."
"So why didn't he do it?" Finn said. "Not that I'm complaining."
"Good question. It would seem to suggest that they want Buckingham, D'Artagnan, and even the two of you alive."
"That doesn't make any sense," said Lucas.
"Perhaps it does, if the man who's giving the orders is who I think it is. This game is getting very interesting."
"Game?" said Finn.
"Oh, it would be a game to him," said Mongoose. "That would be his style."
"Sounds very melodramatic," Lucas said. "Do we get a name? A description, maybe?"
Mongoose smiled. His old woman's disguise was complete right down to the rotting teeth.
"His name is Adrian Taylor. I'm afraid we don't have a description on him. He's a cut above your average terrorist."
"What does that mean?" Finn said.
"It means that he's very good at what he does," the agent said. "Taylor's a mental case, a psychopath, completely unpredictable. But he's also a pro, which makes matters worse because he's capable of a deadly, systematic rationality. He can keep it on a rein and let it all loose when it suits him."
"Sounds like you know the fellow," Lucas said.
Mongoose nodded. "Our paths have crossed before. He's not like the others. I suppose it's possible that he believes all that fanatic bullshit the Timekeepers spout, but I doubt that that's what drives him. This one's in it for the money. And because he likes to hang it right out over the edge."
"Sorta reminds you of someone we know, doesn't he?" said Finn.
"He's worked with Freytag before," the agent continued, ignoring Delaney's jibe. "I tailed Freytag to the Rue Vaugirard and then I lost him. I don't think he knew that he was being followed, he was just being very careful."
"Which raises another question," Lucas said. "If they know we're onto them and they've got a chronoplate, why don't they simply abandon their plan to create a disruption here and clock out to another period? Our chances of latching onto them again would be practically nil."
"You don't know Taylor," Mongoose said. "He's not a quitter and he won't be intimidated. That's what I'm counting on. He knows that as long as we don't know where that plate is, he's got an edge and he'll hold off using it until the last possible moment."
"Then this should interest you," said Lucas. "Finn and I think we know where that chronoplate is. We followed an old man and a young woman from the Luxembourg to a house on the Rue St. Honore. The old man had a laser. He—"
"That would be Jack Bennett," Mongoose said. "Alias Dr. Jacques Benoit. He's the underground link to the terrorists."
"You knew!"
"Of course I knew. What do you think I've been doing all this time, sitting on my hands?"
"But if you knew about Bennett, why didn't you let us in on it?" Lucas s
aid.
Delaney snorted. "Silly question. There was no need for us to know. Right, Mata Hari?"
"For a guy who had a knife at his throat a couple of minutes ago, you're pretty cocky," Mongoose said.
"What's he talking about?" said Lucas.
"His bedside manner," Finn said. "Do you mind if I asked another silly question? If you knew about Bennett, why didn't you move in?"
"Because he doesn't have the chronoplate. The Timekeepers would never sit still for that. He might have given them access to it initially, but he's not part of their inner circle. Taylor will have taken it away from him."
"You had it all figured out, didn't you?" said Delaney. "You found out about Jack Bennett and you've probably had him under observation ever since, only it would seem that the terrorists got what they wanted from him and now he's out of the picture. So why leave him around? Easy, because he would make a perfect decoy. You figured that out, too, because you made sure that he knew he was under observation, hoping to scare him enough to lead you to the terrorists. If he did, you'd move in, and if he didn't, the terrorists would think their decoy plan was working. Meanwhile you anticipated the potential disruption scenarios and you've been Johnny-on-the-spot. You made sure to give us instructions that would involve us with the principals, so that the terrorists would make us, just like Freytag did last night. The idea was to dangle a little bait in front of them, a couple of decoys of your own. Freytag was supposed to spot us, if not last night, then at some other point, whenever we happened to intersect with the key figures in this scenario. You or one of your people would have been right there, because you've had us watched constantly. We were supposed to get killed. With us dead, the terrorists would feel more secure, since they'd seem to have gotten away with it. They'd get careless and you'd trail them to their hideout where they keep the chronoplate. All very neat. Only Freytag didn't kill us. That's why it bothers you. Not because they've passed up an opportunity, but because they're not improvising. They didn't take your bait. They're sticking to their original plan and you don't know what that is. What's more, you had a chance last night, when you made Freytag. You could have followed him to this Taylor character, but you blew it. Freytag didn't know that he was being followed? I don't buy it. He knew and he shook you and it only took him a couple of blocks to do it. He and Taylor probably had a good laugh about it."
"Are you finished?"
"Not quite. How many people have you got on this mission? A dozen? Two dozen? More? You never even considered the possibility of an adjustment going down, did you? You brought enough people back here to spread a net, to cover all the possibilities. Only you needed someone the Timekeepers could spot, a target they could shoot at. As you said, someone to make them nervous. Agency personnel are too valuable to waste on something like that, right? A couple of soldiers would be just the thing. What did you do, go to the Referee Corps and requisition a couple of expendables? Sure, you can have Delaney. He's made a pain in the ass of himself before and he's up on charges now. He'll be just perfect. And Priest just happened to be there with me at the wrong time, so he got thrown into the deal. Is that how it went down?"
Mongoose regarded him with a steady gaze. "More or less," he said.
"Damn," said Lucas. "I can't believe that Forrester would go along with that."
"He had no choice," said Finn, "assuming that he even knew about it."
"If it's worth anything," said Mongoose, "I don't think Major Forrester was fully briefed. There was no need for him to know."
"Well, that pretty much fits in with standard operating procedure, doesn't it?" said Finn. "The pawns are the least significant pieces in a game. There's no need for them to know the reasons for the moves they are required to make. That's all this mission is for you, isn't it? A game. It's a game for Taylor and it's a game for you. Except Taylor controls the board.
He's got a gameplan and you don't. He's castled and he's got all his most important pieces functioning freely. You've got your pieces spread out all over the board. Every agent you've got back here represents one more chance for something to go wrong. You're out of control, Mongoose. The only way you're going to win is if you get damn lucky."
"You still only have part of the total picture, Delaney," said the agent. "To switch your chess metaphor to one of cards, I still have a few aces up my sleeve. Nor do I play a defensive game, as you imply. But that need not concern you. Granted, you've been used. But you can still be useful. Your survival depends upon the degree of your usefulness."
"Suppose we don't choose to play?" said Lucas.
"In that case, your usefulness will have ended," Mongoose said. "Freytag let you live, this one time. He obviously had a reason for doing so, although I confess that I'm at a loss to guess what that reason is. He could have killed you easily; Freytag is an accomplished assassin. He can and will do so whenever it suits Taylor's purpose. You're out in the open and extremely vulnerable."
"Thanks to you," said Lucas.
"Yes, thanks to me," said Mongoose. "You do have several alternatives, though. One is to refuse to cooperate. You could push the panic button. I can tell you now that it would bring no results. We're the Observers on this mission. You could desert, but I don't think you'll do that. I don't think it's in you. You'd still be vulnerable. The Timekeepers could get you or, for that matter, my people could get you. It would be simple. You have no idea who they are, where they are, or how many of them there are. Frankly, there'd be no percentage in my having you sanctioned. I wouldn't waste my time. I don't think you'll desert, because you want to stop the Timekeepers as badly as I do. You could tell me to go to hell and try it on your own, but then you wouldn't have the benefit of whatever information I choose to pass on to you and I don't think I need to remind you that, without me, there's no way for you to get back home. Which brings us to your final alternative. You continue to work with me and let me call the shots."
"Which means we've got no alternatives at all," said Lucas.
"I rather thought you'd come to that conclusion."
"All right, you bastard," Finn said, "you win. We'll play it your way."
"I'm so glad," said Mongoose. "And just to prove to you that I'm not ungrateful, I'll pass on a useful bit of information. What you do with it is up to you. Before Jack Bennett deserted from the Temporal Corps some ten years ago, he was a medical officer. Specifically, he was a surgeon. A specialist in cosmetology, something you gentlemen should be familiar with. So when you go back out and start interacting with the principals in this scenario, you may want to exercise a little caution. One of them may not be what he seems."
* * * *
Moreau came quickly. The old ex-seaman asked no questions, simply accepting that Doctor Jacques and "his gentleman friend" were in some kind of trouble and needed help. When Bennett told him that he would have to be extremely careful if any of the "gentlemen from Flanders" inquired as to his whereabouts, Moreau grunted, nodding his head as if to say that he had thought as much, and then told him to say no more, that he would take care of everything.
"There is one thing more that I must say," Bennett told him.
"There is no need of explaining anything to me, Doctor Jacques," Moreau said.
"Yes, I know that, old friend," Bennett said, "and I love you for it. But I must give you a warning. Be especially wary of Milady de Winter."
Moreau raised his eyebrows. There were few people in the know in Paris who had not heard of the infamous "Milady."
"Merde," said Moreau. "What have you gotten yourself into, Doctor? No, on second thought, don't tell me. I cannot tell what I don't know."
"I think that would be wise," Jack Bennett said.
"What would be wise would be to find a safe place for you right now and arrange for you and Monsieur Andre to leave Paris as soon as possible."
Andre, still being in her male guise, did not correct Moreau in his misconception and, following her cue, Marie, Pierre, and Bennett kept silent on the subject as well.
"I'm afraid that wouldn't do," said Jack. "We must find a safe place to hide for now, that's true, but we cannot possibly leave Paris. There is more at stake than you would understand."
"It's your choice," Moreau said. "But they'll be looking for you, won't they?"
"They'll be looking for Doctor Jacques," said Andre. "They do not know about me as yet. That may give us some freedom to act."
"I see," Moreau said. "Well, then, perhaps it would be best if I were to arrange separate sanctuaries for you. If no one is seeking you in connection with this matter, whatever it may be, then you can come and stay at my establishment, Monsieur Andre, as my guest."
"I would not wish to impose upon your generosity," Andre began, but Moreau interrupted her with a wave of his hand.
"Think nothing of it. What I do, I do for Doctor Jacques, and you are his friend. If helping you helps him, so much the better. Now, where shall we put you, my friend?"
Moreau thought a moment.
"Ah, I have it. I have a friend who owes me for some favors. He will be more than happy to get out of my debt so cheaply. I will send you to stay with him. He has a house in the Rue des Fossoyeurs, No. 14. What's more, he has a young cadet who lodges with him, an expert swordsman, as I hear tell. You should be safe there."
"Can your friend be trusted?" said Bennett.
"Bonacieux? He is an innocent and as simple as the day is long, but he is also a bit of a chatterbox. He's a good man, but I'm not certain that I would trust him with a secret. He might blurt it out through no fault of his own. No, it would be best if we were to concoct some sort of story to keep his curiosity appeased."
"Have I met this Bonacieux?" said Bennett.
"It is entirely possible," said Moreau. "He frequents the tavern now and then. A likeable, rather scatterbrained old fellow, gray hair, spindly little legs, red nose, and chin just like a spade."
Bennett shook his head. "Maybe, I don't know. His name seems somehow familiar."
"Well, then doubtless you have met him. Either way, his place will do. I'll tell him that you're my cousin, recently returned from a life at sea. You know something of the sailing life, as I recall; that should make it easier in case he should become garrulous, which is very likely. He doesn't see his wife too often and laments for lack of company. We'll say that you've left the seaman's life behind because you've become somewhat infirm and need frequent rest. That should insure you some needed privacy."
