Relics
Page 71
“It makes for a great soap opera, but where are you headed with this, cowboy?”
“The last born, Sophie, was born premature and died a month shy of her first birthday. That left only Louis Charles and the eldest child, Marie Therese. Louis Charles, who was dubbed Louis XVII, died of tuberculosis at the age of ten. In essence, he had been king for two and a half years after Louis XVI was beheaded, but nobody was really counting. So, that left the only surviving child, Marie Therese, to produce a true heir. According to royalist history, she never had any children.”
“You told us all of that to tell us that there were no truly legitimate heirs born to Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette?” Lana scoffed.
“No, that was the background for another story,” Oscar countered. “The setting for the next story is Hildburghausen, Germany, right around 1799. It seems that a Count Vavel de Versay and a Countess Sophie Botta took up residence in the Castle Eishausen. They were a very secretive couple, who rarely were rarely seen in public and when they were, the countess was never seen without a veil. Those odd circumstances and the timing of their arrival sparked some speculation as to their true identities.
“The eldest daughter of Louis and Marie, Marie Therese, was held in the Temple Tower in Paris even after everyone else, including her aunt Elisabeth, were dead. She wasn’t released until 1795 and she was immediately sent to Vienna, where her mother’s family was residing. She was allegedly married to her cousin, a shy, stammering young man by the name of Louis-Antoine in 1799. She eagerly agreed. The two never had any children…”
“You said allegedly,” Chyna pointed out.
“Yes, because it was speculated that the 17-year-old Marie Therese wasn’t really Marie Therese, but her half-sister, Ernestine Lambriquet, who had taken her place. The real Marie Therese had been subject to a great deal of sexual abuse by her captors while in the Temple Tower and became pregnant. It is that Marie Therese, who, after changing her name to Sophie Botta, showed up in Hildburghausen.”
“So, you think that whomever we’re dealing with might connect himself to Marie Antoinette via that link?” Chyna asked.
Oscar shrugged.
“True or not, that could be our connection. Keep digging, maybe we can find something there.”
Chapter Seventeen
Diary of the Queen
29 November 1780
My dearest mother is dead. Today is the worst and the gravest of days of my entire life. But I am selfish in my grief for to have lost such a great woman is not only my loss; it is the world’s loss as well. At mass, the Prince-Archbishop of Vienna, Cardinal Migazzi styled her by her proper and complete title; Maria Theresa, by the Grace of God, Dowager Empress of the Romans, Queen of Hungary, of Bohemia, of Dalmatia, of Croatia, of Slavonia, of Galicia, of Lodomeria, etc.; Archduchess of Austria; Duchess of Burgundy, of Styria, of Carinthia and of Carniola; Grand Princess of Transylvania; Margravine of Moravia; Duchess of Brabant, of Limburg, of Luxemburg, of Guelders, of Württemberg, of Upper and Lower Silesia, of Milan, of Mantua, of Parma, of Piacenza, of Guastalla, of Auschwitz and of Zator; Princess of Swabia; Princely Countess of Habsburg, of Flanders, of Tyrol, of Hainault, of Kyburg, of Gorizia and of Gradisca; Margravine of Burgau, of Upper and Lower Lusatia; Countess of Namur; Lady of the Wendish Mark and of Mechlin; Dowager Duchess of Lorraine and Bar, Dowager Grand Duchess of Tuscany, so all who were present would acknowledge her tremendous greatness.
Letters of condolence have made their way to me here at Versailles; mostly empty words of solace for a much feared but respected daughter in mourning. The most considerable of which came from King Frederic the Great of Prussia, my mother’s archenemy. Even he, at the news of her death, was astonished and overwhelmed with respect and admiration for her. He wrote to me saying, “The Empress honored her throne and her sex, and though I had fought against her in three wars, I never considered her my enemy’.
The loss is great and mingled nefariously with the joy of my pregnancy. Perhaps the strength I have lost with the death of my dear mother will be regained with the birth of a dauphin for France.
To whom shall I write of my trials and triumphs now? Who will care enough to read and respond to the silly scribbled thoughts of a girl like me?
Marie.
***
Because Chyna was certain that whoever had contracted Tony would certainly be keeping an eye out for his arrival, she made a decision to send him on a separate flight to Belgrade alone. She and her team kept the crown with them and the All Seeing Eye, which Tony reluctantly placed in her hand.
As usual, Chyna and her team followed all the proper diplomatic channels, aided by Antoine’s own Interpol credentials. They arrived three days before Tony, set up their operation in an isolated suite of Hotel Zlatnik and had identified three different individuals who seemed to work in shifts and had a great deal too much interest on who came and went from Hotel Zlatnik.
Oscar, Mark and Sirita had continued to dig in an attempt to find any sort of modern connection to the Dunkelgrafen (Dark Counts) of Hildburghausen. It was an enormous task to undertake, even for the three electronics wizards, but they stuck to their task with fervor, knowing that at any moment they would find one tiny shred that could break the whole thing open.
“Hold on a sec,” Oscar said about mid-morning of June 20th, the day Tony was due to arrive in Belgrade and a little more than twelve hours before it would be too late. “The Unconquered Sun is a patron of soldiers. So, our madman is likely to have been introduced into the order as a soldier.”
“That doesn’t really narrow things down, Oscar,” Mark responded. “Every young man and plenty of young women in this region were soldiers in the entire decade of the 1990s. Even if we narrow it down to just Serbian soldiers, why would still have a mountain of people to search through.”
“Yes, but if we take into account the things that we know about whomever this person is, we can narrow it down to particular ones and then trace backward. For instance, whoever this is, he’s wealthy enough to isolate himself, provide extremely tight security and pay someone a handsome sum to steal those artifacts. He’s also going to have risen rapidly in the ranks of the Unconquered Sun, if he’s going to have become a high priest within, let’s say, 25 years, given the fact that all hell broke loose in the Socialist Federal Republic of Yugoslavia in 1991.”
“Okay, so ranking Serbian military officers who became wealthy after the war,” Mark shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”
“Any ideas what name we should be looking for?” Sirita asked in a sarcastic tone.
“I can tell you what name not to look for,” Oscar countered in the same tone.
“What name?”
“Louis Charles Bourbon.”
Sirita made a face at him and then turned back to her computer.
“Tony’s flight has landed,” Chyna announced to the room. “He’ll be here within the hour. I hope he’ll be here within the hour, even the next two or three hours would be okay, as long as he hasn’t ditched us.”
“He hasn’t ditched us,” Lana responded.
“How do you know that?” she asked.
“Because we have the crown and the All Seeing Eye.”
“He’ll get those two things before he bothers to ditch us,” Mark pointed out.
“Gee, thanks for that comforting thought, Mark,” Chyna muttered.
“How about you help me fix lunch, since the eggheads are all on their computers, and Antoine and the wolves are taking turns watching the spies outside?”
“I don’t know that I’ll be much help,” Chyna replied.
“That doesn’t matter. Your pacing and hand-wringing are driving me out of my mind.”
“I am not wringing my hands and pacing,” Chyna objected.
“I never saw you so nervous when you liked the guy,” Lana laughed.
“You know that I can kick your ass and toss you down the elevator shaft and no one would ever know that you’re missing, right?” Chyna teased.
As soon as they were out of sight and earshot of the others, Chyna grabbed Lana turned her around and wrapped her arms around her. “This is where somebody always rides in to save the day,” she sighed, wiping tears from her eyes. “It used to be Tony and now…”
“Now what?” Lana asked.
“And now, I don’t know. I don’t trust him. I can’t trust him. I want him to be who he was before, but I don’t know if he still is that guy or if he can be that guy. I had closure. I had the damned door close tight and all of the bolts locked and now…”
“Let me tell you something, Chyna Stone,” Lana said, pushing her away from her so that she could look into her eyes. “Now you’re the person that is riding in to save the day. You and your kick ass team. You… We don’t need anybody else to come riding in, we are it. Seriously, IT. So, you take the reins, you keep a tight hold on that bit in Anthony Stewart’s mouth and you make this happen. We’ve got this.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Chyna admitted.
“Pshaw! There’s no maybe to it.”
“Thanks, Lana. You’re…”
“Stop it. We’re a team; a family. We all take care of each other.”
“Tony just got out of the cab,” Antoine called out.
“He’s a little bit early,” Chyna said.
“Don’t sweat it. His flight probably arrived early and he cleared customs quicker.”
“Or he changed his flight at the last minute.”
“If you had the Illuminati on your ass, wouldn’t you?”
“Relax and run this team, Chy. That big blonde wolf out there has your back and so do eight other people.”
“I guess I better go make my drop,” Chyna sighed.
The drop Chyna was referring to was the means by which the crown and All Seeing Eye were going to get into his hands without blowing Tony’s cover. Tony could neither come up to their suite nor could they go down to his without arousing some suspicion, so they had made arrangements to put the canvas bag with the two items on top of the left side elevator car, where Tony would retrieve it and leave the identical canvas bag that he’d carried in with him in its place.
Taking Thorin with her out into the hallway, Chyna pressed the elevator call button and waited for it to arrive. When the car arrived, Thorin held the button to keep the door open and watched her as she climbed up onto the handrail, pushed the ceiling access hatch open, placed the canvas bag on the roof, closed the hatch, hopped down, pressed 4 on the panel and exited the elevator.
She and Thorin went back inside the suite and waited about ten minutes and then returned to repeat the process, except in reverse. Receiving the canvas bag that was stuffed with paper was evidence that the switch had been made.
“I guess we’re a go,” she said as she examined the contents of the bag.
They started back to the suite.
Chapter Eighteen
Diary of the Queen
14 July 1789
Today was a dark day in the history of France. It is in no way helpful either that it has come on the heels of Louis taking some decisive action. The deed was necessary. Necker had made a huge blunder and misrepresented his monarch and country. But as is commonly the case, the people saw it differently as they will always choose to side with others over their king.
They stormed the Bastille fortress, killed many soldiers and helped themselves to the vast stockpile of munitions kept within its walls.
During all of this, Governor Marquis Bernard de Launay was beaten, stabbed and decapitated; his head was placed on a pike and paraded about the city. This, despite having ordered the ceasefire that prevented the mob from being massacred by the military forces there. They saw only weakness.
When Louis heard of what was happening in the city he was visibly alarmed and decided that he should tread lightly and proceed with his handling of the financial ministry more tactfully. I see only weakness.
Perhaps both he and de Launay should have stood their ground.
Marie.
***
“Tony is with the goons,” Chyna announced into her mic.
They were divided into two teams to tail and two other teams were in reserve. Chyna was paired with Thorin and Lana was paired with Antoine. Sirita and Mark were still working alongside Oscar in search of an identity for Louis, but they were also monitoring the situation and prepared to come in as two backup teams. Sirita was to be paired with Demetri and Mark would pair with Simon (one of Thorin’s wolves). The last wolf stayed put with Oscar.
Antoine had put a special ops team from Interpol on alert, but without a specific destination, they could only wait on standby. Everyone hoped that they would not be necessary.
Tony had been equipped with one of Oscar’s tracking devices in the soul of his shoe, as had the other team members. As long as they kept their shoes on and didn’t go beyond range or under something that would block his ability to receive the signal from the transmitter, Oscar could stick to them and provide a feed to the monitors of the two tailing teams.
As soon as they were able to come up with an ID on Louis and narrow down a location, the two tailing teams could make a move to snatch Tony, the crown and the All Seeing Eye away from the goons. That’s why Mark, Oscar and Sirita had stayed behind to keep working on their computers.
Sirita continued to follow search leads. She had made a probable connection to Countess Sophie Botta and had been moving forward in her search. “Whoever this dude is, he must have adoptions and abandonments all through his family history.”
“Abandonment!” Oscar exclaimed. “What do you do with abandoned children?”
“They put them in an orphanage,” Mark responded.
“Have either of you checked the orphanages in and around Belgrade?” Oscar asked.
They both shook their heads.
“Neither have I,” he responded. “Let’s go there and cross reference with our Serbian officer list.”
“Bingo,” Mark called out a few minutes later.
“Tail One,” Oscar said into his mic. “We might have an ID coming.”
“Copy. Just be sure, cowboy.”
“What you got, Mark?” Oscar asked.
“We have an Oliver Branko, who fits all of our categories. Wealthy, high ranking military officer and…”
“Don’t do me like that, Mark,” Oscar warned. “Do we have an ID or not?”
“We have a double bingo,” Mark came back. “He was expelled from an orphanage that was operated by the Eastern Orthodox Monastery Rakovica. That same orphanage was purchased and made into a private residence by one Oliver Branko.”
“Where was this orphanage located?” Oscar asked.
“South east of Belgrade, just outside town,” Mark replied, moving over to look at the tracking map that Oscar had up on his monitor. Sirita slid over to join them.
The tracking blips were headed southeast.
“Tail One,” Oscar announced. “We have location and ID. Go ahead and bag your goons.”
There was no response.
“Tail One. Do you copy?” Oscar asked. He waited several seconds and repeated his call, looking up at Sirita and Mark with wide eyes. After three more times without a response, he made the call to the Interpol standby team, giving them the ID and location coordinates.
“We’ve lost com with our tail teams. I will go in with a high-powered tracker to help guide you in. Let me know when you have a lock on my frequency.”
Mark, Sirita, Demetri and Simon were already geared up and getting ready to head out by the time Oscar disconnected the call and started gearing up to go with them.
“What are you doing?” Mark asked. “You’re supposed to stay here.”
“I’ve got to take this transmitter into wherever they are,” he said.
“One of us can do it,” Sirita responded.
Oscar ignored them and headed out the door. “If you guys are coming, you better ge
t your butts moving.”
***
The cars had come out of nowhere and were coming at them head on. It had happened so suddenly that Thorin had barely had enough time to swerve away from a head-on collision. In spite of his driving skills, the maneuver had been executed at the perfect moment and in a perfect place and he’d been forced onto a steep shoulder that turned the car over, rolling it several times before it came to a stop.
Chyna was dazed and had some cuts and bruises, but she was mostly unhurt. Thorin had taken a heavy hit in the rollover and was unconscious. She shook him to try to revive him.
“Thorin. Thorin. Come on, buddy, you gotta come to,” she called out to him.
She reached for the mic beside her throat and realized the both mic and earpiece had been damaged in the rollover, and her radio was crushed. She reached over to search for Thorin’s radio and then froze in place as she felt a cold, steel barrel being placed against her head. She didn’t need to understand the words that were being spoken to her. She raised her arms up near her ears and slowly slid out of the open door of the car.
In some situations, Chyna might have considered going on the offensive, but with six automatic weapons held on her, she decided to cooperate instead. She was forced to her knees and her hands were secured behind her with heavy duty zip ties.
She was simultaneously lifted and dragged up away from the wrecked car and, not so gently, tossed into the back of a waiting van. A few moments later, four men struggled to shove a still unconscious Thorin in as well.
“I hope you made that ID, Oscar,” she whispered under her breath.