by K. T. Tomb
As the high priest of the Unconquered Sun, he already wielded a great deal of power over his followers, but he needed the magic of the items that the Seer had obtained for him in order to consolidate that power and make him completely omnipotent. His vault already held the Ivory Bow, the Minoan Mask, the Phoenician Falcon, the Mummy Codex, the Aquitaine Armor and the Basilisk of Ishtar. The Rosary of Isabella was about to be added to the set and he awaited the addition of one final piece that was necessary for the Solstice ceremony that would consolidate all of the forces of the gods within that one single object that he would place on his head; the Jeweled Crown of his greatest ancestor, Marie Antoinette.
With that power consolidated within the crown, he would lead the Army of Reckoning forward into battle and watch the entire world as it was laid waste before him. He would march upon Paris first, paying back with a furious vengeance the descendants of the fools who had removed his lineage from the throne. He would take over the Palace of Versailles and set up the world’s new throne there and he would watch, with great pleasure, the yoke of servitude being placed on the necks of fools. A knock at his office door brought him back to the reality that still surrounded him.
“Enter!” he commanded. Through the glass wall and door, he could see the form of Luka.
Luka entered, bowed slightly and then waited to be directed to speak.
“Well, then?” Louis said, as though he was speaking to a delinquent child with whom he had to retain an extreme amount of patience. “Is the package in the vault?”
“It is, Your Grace?” Luka replied.
“And the other matter?”
“Taken care of as well, Your Grace.”
Louis allowed a condescending smile to spread over his face. “Luka, when I come into my place of power and glory, you will be given great honor for having served me so well.”
“As you wish, Your Grace,” Luka replied. “Though I am certainly not deserving of such.”
“Of course you’re not, but that is why I am to be addressed as ‘Your Grace.’ It is due to my mercy and grace that you will be granted that honor and not because of your own worth.”
“I am truly humbled, Your Grace.”
“Good,” Louis replied in a stern voice. “Now, we need to begin making preparations for the ceremony of the Solstice. Before that day arrives, however, we are waiting for the delivery of two final objects. Those objects will be brought to us by a man who is powerful and dangerous. My security must be at its paramount. Is that understood?”
“It is understood, Your Grace.”
***
Diary of the Queen
1 June 1770
It’s been an impossible task but I believe I have mastered the activities of the morning. I tolerate the schedule until it is time for mass and pray for the wherewithal to stumble through the rest of the day but mostly I find grace and patience very lacking these days.
The day starts when I wake up around eight in the morning. The first person I see is Madame Etiquette.
A large book is presented to me which contains the pattern and description of every article in my wardrobe. I select my choices using pins and I make selections for the morning dressing, afternoon undressing and for the evening.
I am allowed to eat breakfast either in bed or at a little table placed in front of the couch in my bedroom. Breakfast is supposedly a light meal in Paris but, much to Noaille’s dismay, I call for a more hearty meal than is usually provided and I do so every day for once I am dressed for the day, I hardly eat at all.
I am allowed to have a tray placed over my bath tub with my breakfast on it. There are usually about six bathers in attendance, Madame Etiquette refuses anyone else entry while I wash. Sometimes I languish in the water until I am completely wrinkled so I can enjoy the privacy.
At the appropriate time, a large table containing my entire toilette is brought in and the attendants lay out the articles to be used in dressing me for the day. The Princesse de Lamballe, Jules de Polignac and the other ladies of honor would be seated waiting for me to emerge. This is called Le Grandes Entrees and any members of the court who had the right to be in my rooms would take the opportunity to be there. I am certain that this is just their chance to embarrass their princess and that they take much joy in the exercise; too much joy, in fact.
My hair is styled and then the dame d’honneur and the dame d’atours bring out the rest of my toilette. This is where the system of rank at Versailles gets ridiculous. I could be standing completely naked in my bedroom waiting for my clothing to be handed to me and I would remain so, shivering and exposed, if the ranking order of those in attendance changed suddenly. No, I am not jesting. It’s no wonder I didn’t emerge from my rooms until noon on most days.
The highlight of my morning comes once I am finally dressed. This is the time I do my small allotment of diplomacy and my mother would be so proud of me! There are usually up to twelve other people present, including my chief physician and my chief surgeon; even though I am not ill. I give signatures and receive presentations of any officers who are taking leave of Court. On Sundays, I am presented any ladies who are coming in or going and on Tuesdays, new and exiting ambassadors are presented.
After receiving and sending off the various courtiers and dignitaries, I would leave my apartments to attend mass. Any princesses, their attendants, as well as the courtiers who had attended the entrees would follow me, all arranged according to their ranking.
This constant squabbling and scurrying for pomp and position among the courtiers is exhausting. I long for the Hapsburg court back home in Austria, where people were left to be people and it was much easier to know them and where you stood with each one.
Marie.
Chapter Ten
“Eyes are up, Watcher One,” Oscar reported via Chyna’s earpiece. She waited for the second confirmation, which came a few seconds later. “Ears are up as well. You should have the feed in a few.”
Chyna watched the monitor inside the older model Renault that they favored for being more inconspicuous among the autos in the area than her more favored Range Rover would have been. The screen, which had moments before been nothing but static, suddenly displayed the image of the inside of a limo from two cameras, which were, at the moment, were side by side, in a split screen display.
“I’ve got your feed, Control,” Chyna responded.
“Watcher Two is go,” Lana’s voice responded.
“Watcher Three is go,” Mark’s voice added.
“Can you hear us too?” Demetri asked.
“One has ears,” Chyna answered. “Watchers?”
“Two has ears.”
“Three has ears.”
“Okay, Caribou,” she said, speaking into the mic attached to the earpiece. “You and Wolf are go. Relax, act natural and have fun. You copy that, Wolf?”
“Copy,” Demetri replied before he and Sirita removed their earpieces, waited for the chauffeur to open the door of the limo and then slid out. From that point on, the three pairs of watchers could see and hear everything that was going on via the hidden microphones and cameras that both Demetri and Sirita wore. The only downside was that they could risk the presence of an earpiece on either of them for fear that its discovery would blow their cover.
It hadn’t been easy, but Chyna, Lana and Sirita had been able to transform Demetri into a rather dashing and sophisticated gentleman in a short amount of time. It didn’t hurt that there was a little spark between Sirita and Demetri anyway, something that mad Chyna smile a little when she saw the two of them together. They made a very good pair, even apart from the operation and she wondered if she had unwittingly played matchmaker.
“Okay, Watchers,” she ordered. “Let’s be diligent. We have three stops to make and we can’t afford any screw ups.”
“Copy,” each of the other teams replied in turn.
Though the tone of her voice was somewhat shaky due to nerves, Sirita opened up the conversation with the man who was b
ehind the counter.
“My husband and I are on our honeymoon,” she said. “We have had such a special time together in Paris.”
“Congratulations. I am certain that you have found Paris to be special. It has that effect on everyone who visits, but especially for lovers,” the man responded.
“We were hoping to find something unique to take home as a souvenir,” Demetri began. “Not something ordinary, you understand?”
“I understand,” the man replied. “There are many things here that are unique. Perhaps you will find something to suit your tastes, huh?”
“What we are looking for isn’t going to be in your shop,” Sirita said in a low tone.
“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.”
