by K. T. Tomb
The team spent an hour telling what they knew about Tony and how he operated. Chyna listened while they put all their ideas and speculation out in the open and began to form a plan.
“Tony has already prepared the battlefield,” she said quietly.
“Could you repeat that?” Lana asked.
“Tony has already prepared the battlefield. That’s why he wants the meet to take place at Varennes. We have to make preparations for that plan and move in that direction and then stop and force him to come to us. It’s the only way that we can even the odds.”
“Explain,” Mark said, moving up to the edge of his seat and focusing on her.
“We set everything in motion and move ourselves into place, but ten to fifteen minutes before the meet, we stop and change the meeting place. He has to have that crown, so he’ll have to comply, but he won’t have enough time to relocate his people. That will even the odds, because they’ll have to move onto our battlefield.”
“We won’t have much time to set up either,” Antoine pointed out.
“Then we’ll have to know exactly what we’re doing and move our butts,” Chyna responded. She looked at her watch. “We don’t have time to sit and talk about it. We need to set our real plan right now and then start moving toward the false plan. How good of a map can you get me of the area around Varennes, Oscar?”
“Do you want it with or without chicken poop?”
“Jesus, you’re so disgusting,” Lana responded.
With the highly detailed satellite image that Oscar provided, Chyna and her team laid out the real positions that they would take up and then coordinated how they would reach those places while appearing to go to the others. She repeated the plan several times until everyone understood it.
“Okay, Oscar, let’s start working on how to get to Tony’s meeting point in Varenne and let’s get our asses moving out of here. We need to make him think that we’re racing him to his own position.”
***
Chyna was pretty sure that she’d covered everything. They’d laid out a perfect plan to move Tony’s trap into their own trap. Her team had harbored a hatred for Tony equal to or exceeding her own. They had seen how he’d betrayed her—betrayed them all, really—and they were as eager to nail him as she was. Fifteen minutes before the time of the meet, they all switched their positions and hurried to set up their trap. Ten minutes before the meet, she turned toward Antoine.
“Okay,” she said. “Go ahead and make the call.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Tony’s voice called out from the darkness. A moment later, he strolled into the light with his hands raised above his head. “I’m alone, Chyna. No tricks.”
“You son of a bitch!” Antoine exclaimed, rushing toward him. “I’m going to rip your throat out!”
“Antoine!” Chyna called out, leveling her SIG toward him and moving to a position where she could cover them both. She spoke into the mic. “On your toes, team. The tiger has just surprised us. Sweep back this way and clear whatever you find.”
“Copy.” The replies came into her earpiece in rapid succession.
“Not a bad move, Chyna,” he grinned. “You certainly would have evened the odds, if I’d had anybody with me.”
“Yeah, well, you just stay right where you are until we have a chance to figure out whether or not you’re telling the truth. If anything sudden happens, I’m going to drop you with a double tap. Don’t think I won’t.”
“I believe you,” he replied. “I’ll stand right here until you’re satisfied.”
“Antoine,” she ordered, “I’d prefer that you moved about three steps to your left and stay put until we sort all of this out as well.”
“I already told you that I hate the double-crossing bastard as much as you do,” Antoine replied.
“Yeah, well, until I am 100 percent certain, either my first pair or second pair of shots will turn your brain to soup, got it?”
“He’s not with me,” Tony pointed out. “It was a nice touch bringing him in on this, though.”
“Just shut up,” Chyna snapped. She was more dialed in and focused than she’d ever been in her life. A very long five minutes passed before the first of her team members, Sirita, began to emerge from her sweep, keeping her weapon trained on Tony as she moved in closer to Chyna. In the following minutes, each of her team members moved in closer, though the four guys from the security team stayed out of sight. Damn, those guys are good. Chyna lowered the SIG, knowing that Tony was well covered and in far more danger from her team members than from her.
Tony looked around at them and let out a long gasp. Taking note of the four weapons still pointed in his direction and the clenched teeth of those who were holding them. “I’m on the level,” he announced.
“Then you won’t mind if we apply a pair of bracelets until you explain this entire thing in intimate detail,” she snarled.
“Fine,” he consented.
The team members started to shift their positions as Chyna moved in to put the cuffs on Tony.
“Lana, keep your weapon on Antoine until I’m finished here, please.” Chyna couldn’t take any chances in that moment. She moved in closer to Tony, prepared for anything that he might bring. A part of her wanted to open up on him and just start kicking the shit out of him, but she stayed focused on the bigger picture. “Turn around and keep your hands where I can see them.”
Tony complied. He knew the drill and he knew what sort of movements would compel well-trained individuals to use deadly force.
Chyna snapped one of the cuffs on him, not worrying about them being too tight and then jerked down his other wrist to snap it in as well.
“Jesus,” Tony said, wincing. “I’m regretting getting on your bad side more and more every second.”
“Can the humor, Tony,” Chyna said. “I’m not in the mood.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Let’s go ahead and put some bracelets on Antoine until we’re damned sure that we’re safe, okay?”
“We’re not together,” Tony replied. “I burned my bridges with him the same way I did with you.”
“Yeah, well, you burned the one with me all the way down to ash, so you better be able to explain a hell of a lot or I burn you on a fuckin’ stake,” she growled.
Chapter Fifteen
Versailles, 14 June 1773
My dearest mother,
I absolutely blush for your kindness to me. The day before yesterday, Mercy sent me your precious letter, and yesterday I received a second. That is indeed passing one's fête day happily. On Tuesday, I had a fête which I shall never forget all my life. We made our entrance into Paris. As for honors, we received all that we could possibly imagine; but they, though very well in their way, were not what touched me most. What was really affecting was the tenderness and earnestness of the poor people, who, in spite of the taxes with which they are overwhelmed, were transported with joy at seeing us. When we went to walk in the Tuileries, there was so vast a crowd that we were three-quarters of an hour without being able to move either forward or backward. The dauphin and I gave repeated orders to the guards not to beat anyone, which had a very good effect. Such excellent order was kept the whole day that, in spite of the enormous crowd which followed us everywhere, not a person was hurt. When we returned from our walk, we went up to an open terrace and stayed there for a half an hour. I cannot describe to you, my dear mamma, the transports of joy and affection which everyone exhibited towards us. Before we withdrew, we kissed our hands to the people, which gave them great pleasure. What a happy thing it is for persons in our rank to gain the love of a whole nation so cheaply. Yet there is nothing so precious; I felt it thoroughly, and shall never forget it.
Another circumstance which gave great pleasure on that glorious day was the behavior of the dauphin. He made admirable replies to every address, and remarked everything that was done in his honor, and especially the earnestness and delight of the people, to whom he showed great kindness.
Marie.
***
Back in the hotel suite in Paris, her entire team, plus Antoine, Demetri and Thorin, gave Tony their undivided attention.
He began to describe in intimate detail how he had gone very deep into his cover inside the Illuminati in an attempt to uncover a plot by the Illuminati to consolidate all of Europe and Russia under its control. What he discovered was that there was a plot that even went beyond the Illuminati and it was even deeper than his current cover.
“You understand that I had to play the role that I played and in the manner that I played it, don’t you?” They all heard the question, but he focused on Chyna as he asked it. “I didn’t want to hurt or betray anyone, but it was the only way that I could penetrate to the depth that I did.”
Chyna listened, took his words to heart, but neither acknowledged or granted any form of forgiveness. She remained silent and picked through every part of his story. Turning her trust back over to him wasn’t going to be easy, if it was even possible. His betrayal, whether true or false, had ripped her heart right out of her and crushed into tiny shards of sharp glass that never stopped cutting her, even after she had found closure; or, at least, what she’d thought was closure.
Seeing that he was not going to receive any mercy from Chyna, Tony moved forward with his explanation of things. “The madman that we’re dealing with now is far beyond what the Illuminati had planned. He’s gathering together a very powerful collection of items, each of which has supernatural properties as well as having been previously owned by a notable female in history. What I haven’t yet put together is who this person is and why. But if anyone is able to do it, this team is more apt to find the answers and put a stop to this than anyone else.”
“Oh, I see,” Chyna mocked. “When things get too hot for Anthony Stewart, he comes crawling to us…”
“This isn’t for Anthony Stewart, Chyna Stone or anyone else,” Tony replied. “This is for the whole world.”
“I’m having a hard time believing that,” Chyna countered.
“I’m not,” Sirita broke in.
“Neither am I.” Lana nodded in agreement with Sirita as she spoke.
Chyna glared at the two and then turned her gaze to each of the others. Each of them shrugged in turn. Am I the only one that isn’t buying this? Have they all bought into this line of shit that he’s feeding us? Am I the one that’s wrong? Am I letting my own feelings get in the way? Chyna fought to regain her objectivity. “You know what,” she said finally. “You go on and explain to them. If they buy it, fine, but… I’ll be in the kitchen. You guys carry on.”
Eight pairs of silent eyes watched her retreat. She didn’t care. She opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water and leaned against the counter while she drank it. She could still hear them talking, but from that distance and without turning on the lights, she felt like she was no longer right in the middle of their conversation.
“You realize that you’ve pissed her completely the fuck off, right?” Oscar drawled. There was a threatening tone in it; a tone she’d never heard in Oscar’s voice before. She’d heard that you never pissed off a Southerner, but it wasn’t until that moment that she fully understood why.
“So, you have to turn over the crown and another item that you don’t seem to be very keen on telling us about,” Lana began. “When, where and to whom?”
“I’m to be waiting at Hotel Zlatnik in Belgrade, Serbia at 8:00 p.m. on June 20th,” Tony replied. “I don’t yet know who I’m meeting, but I assume that I will be met by a team of people who will take me to the person who is collecting these items.”
Oscar had started tapping away at his keyboard as soon as Tony gave the location and then he stopped. “That’s the Solstice!” he exclaimed and then began typing furiously.
“What? What’s up?” Mark asked, moving over next to him.
The activity even drew Chyna back out of the kitchen.
“Sirita pointed out and Tony just confirmed that all of the items had supernatural powers and were all formerly owned by notable females in history, except Marie Antoinette’s Crown,” he continued to ramble. “It has no supernatural powers, so we’ll set it aside for a moment. With those powers combined with the ultimate feminine power of a…” He froze and stared at the screen blankly, though it was obvious that there was a lot of activity taking place inside his head.
“Power of a…?” Lana prompted.
“A full moon,” Oscar responded.
“Fill us in on what you’re thinking, cowboy,” Chyna said, rejoining the group.
“A full moon on the solstice concentrates all of the feminine power of the universe before giving way to the male power that comes with the rising sun. Sol Invictus, the Unconquered Sun was, maybe still is, a Roman cult that has ties back to sun worship rituals in Egypt. A high priest in that order, who really understood what he was doing, could consolidate all of that power and take it upon himself. Theoretically speaking, he’d be completely omnipotent. But to do that, he needs to add one more element from the Egyptian worship of Re, which is the most powerful talisman of all feminine forms…”
“The All Seeing Eye,” Tony interrupted.
All eyes turned toward him.
“Which is the other item you’re to deliver,” Chyna whispered, just loud enough for everyone to hear. She suddenly had a much clearer picture of everything that had happened and the purpose behind it, but she knew that she had no time to sort through any of it.
Chapter Sixteen
Le Petit Trianon, 24 May 1774
Madame, dearest mother,
It has been two weeks since the death of my beloved grandfather king, Louis XV. I still cannot say how much I miss his presence at Versailles. It doesn’t help that my darling brother-in-law, Comte D’Artois, has been fraught with grief over the loss.
My sorrow must have been quite evident because today, in an effort to console me, Louis presented me with the key to my own estate, the Petit Trianon, and free rein to renovate it to my liking. I am blessed to have such a doting husband. He is kind and conscientious and devoted to my happiness.
Marie.
***
“Do you have it?” Chyna asked. She was surprised at how her tone had changed from snarling and snapping at him earlier to a more business-like one, which she usually took with her team members.
“I have it hidden in a safe place where only I know about, but, yes, I have it,” he responded. “I’m also pretty well fucked if anyone connected to the Illuminati figures out where I am.”
“Jesus, Tony,” Lana started in. “Your career, your whole life, your…” She glanced up at Chyna stopping herself from going any further and then she finished with a more general word. “Everything.”
Chyna drew all attention, especially her own, back to the subject of their meeting. “Okay, so, we have a person who is likely to be a high priest in the order of the Unconquered Sun cult. He’s gathered together—with our help, I regret to admit—some of the most potent talismans in history, which also happened to belong and be wielded by notable females. By having all of those talismans together along with the All Seeing Eye, he can perform an Egyptian/Roman ritual at midnight of the Summer Solstice, during a full moon and consolidate all feminine power into one place, whereby making himself omnipotent. Does that sum this up?”
“Essentially, yes,” Oscar replied.
There was a long, deep silence.
“Lana, you better break out that tin of yours and pray that you have plenty of capsules to go around,” Chyna said, breaking the silence and rubbing her temples as she felt the beginnings of a massive tension headache starting. “So, the only thing that doesn’t fit is the crown.”
“The crown is personal,” Tony volunteered.
All attention was turned toward him as they awaited an explanation.
“I could tell by the way he acted when I spoke to him. I even tested him by using it as a bargaining chip. He very definitely wants the crown and he wan
ts it on a completely different level than he wants the other items. It’s personal.”
“Like family personal?” Sirita asked.
“Yeah, maybe, I think so,” Tony responded. “Yeah. Family personal.”
“Except we know nothing about him for that to help us,” Lana pointed out.
“He would be linked to the family of Marie Antoinette and the Bourbon Dynasty,” Oscar added.
“He calls himself Louis Charles Bourbon,” Tony said, his eyes lighting up as the connection struck him. “I doubt that’s his real name, but that’s the one he uses.”
“Okay, so descendants of Marie Antoinette,” Oscar said. His fingers started racing over the keyboard.
Mark and Sirita, suddenly having epiphanies of their own, snatched up their own computers and began typing with as much fury as Oscar. For several minutes, the clicking of the three keyboards was the only sound in the room.
“All I can find is Louis Alphonse de Anjou,” Sirita said after a few moments. “And you two girls have got to check this guy out. He may not be the actual King of France, but he can damned sure reign over my heart.”
Lana and Chyna moved over and took a look at the images of France’s leading royal pretender.
“Jesus, ladies!” Mark exclaimed. “Can we stay focused for a few minutes?”
“Jealous much?” Lana laughed. She noted that Mark was looking at the same photos that they were. “Uh, huh, hypocrite.”
“I followed another lead that brought me there, alright?” Mark protested.
“Here is something of interest.” Oscar spoke up, drawing everyone back to him.
“What you got?” Chyna asked.
“It will take a minute to explain, but stay with me,” Oscar cautioned.
“We’re all ears,” Lana replied.
“Marie and Louis had four children. Two of those children were unquestionably theirs, but it is speculated that the other two were probably bastard children from Marie’s affair with the Swedish Count Axel von Fersen. Louis Joseph was the actual heir apparent to Louis XVI, but he died at the age of seven and that title, which is Dauphin of France, was passed on to his younger brother Louis Charles, who, in all likelihood, was actually the son of the count and not Louis...”
