by T E Stouyer
Chapter 8 – Unexpected Visitor
A single tear ran down the young girl’s cheek, sliding along her smooth skin until it reached the tip of her rounded chin. There, it hung for a brief moment, and then succumbed to the pull of gravity. And as it fell through the air on its fleeting journey, the tear formed into a perfectly-shaped sphere, before its short life ended in a splash against Ashrem’s eyelid.
The young man woke up on a bed in Professor Fournier’s home and saw Lucielle leaning over him with teary eyes.
“Ash! Ash! Are you awake?” the girl asked while shaking him with her tiny hands.
“Well, if he wasn’t before, he certainly is now,” said Soran who was standing next to her with his hands inside his jeans’ pockets. “Don’t worry, Luce. He’ll be fine in a few days. You know how resilient we are.”
As he passed through the upstairs lounge on his way to his room, Professor Fournier heard their voices. He stopped and knocked on their door. Then, without waiting for an answer, he opened it and stepped inside.
“Ah! You’re up, Ashrem. That’s good,” said the old man. “You look like you’re doing much better.”
“Yes, professor. I should recover soon,” said Ashrem as he got out of bed.
But when the young man stood up and saw his reflection in the mirror, he froze and made a strange face. He was wearing silk purple pajamas covered in yellow pineapple motifs.
“I’m the one who chose it,” said Lucielle. “I asked Soran to put it on you. It’s nice, isn’t it?”
Ashrem raised an eyebrow at his brother as if to say, really?
Soran grinned. “Hey, you look good, man.”
“Erm … yes, it’s really nice,” said Ashrem. “Thank you, Luce.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, looking really pleased with herself.
“But I think I’d better get out of these, now that I’m up,” Ashrem quickly added. He grabbed some clothes from the closet and went into the bathroom to change.
When Ashrem walked back out, he had slipped into a plain white t-shirt, khaki trousers, and a pair of grey sneakers.
“Are you sure you’re OK,” Lucielle asked, sounding concerned.
“I’m fine,” he replied. “Like Soran said, we’re resilient.”
But despite Ashrem’s claims to the contrary, the others could tell he still experienced some pain and discomfort from his injuries.
Even so, Professor Fournier smiled as he was really pleased to see the young man back on his feet. But then, all of a sudden, his smile froze awkwardly when he saw that the three siblings were intensely staring at him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked them.
Soran took his hands out of his pockets and said in a grave tone, “There’s something we need to ask you, Professor.”
Fournier’s smile had now completely vanished. It was never a good sign when Soran turned serious.
“It’s about Jenkins,” Soran continued.
“Hey, Pops! We need you downstairs,” a voice shouted from the other side of the door, interrupting them.
Rock had rushed up the stairs and had called the professor from across the lounge.
Fournier promptly opened the door. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Some chick’s walking up to the house,” said the mercenary.
“What? Who?” The old man asked, sounding surprised.
“What are you asking me for? It’s your house,” Rock threw back.
A troubled look appeared on Fournier’s face. In all the time he had lived there, he had never once had a single unexpected visitor. And for good reason. He was in hiding. And considering everything that had happened recently, the timing of this first unannounced visit seemed a little too coincidental.
“All right, I’ll go see who she is,” he said. But as he left the room, he turned to the three siblings. “You should all stay here. It’s better if she doesn’t see you.” He then glanced at Rock and added, “That goes for you too, my oversized friend.”
“I know, I know,” the giant mumbled. “I’m too conspicuous. Doc said the same thing.”
Fournier hurried down the stairs and found Doc and Sonar—Sean ‘Sonar’ Riley—waiting for him near the front door. “Shouldn’t you two keep out of sight as well?” he asked them.
“I don’t know,” Sonar replied. “She’s been checking out the house from a distance for the past five minutes, at least. I’m sure she knows you’re not alone.”
“I’ll stay with the professor,” said Doc. “Sonar, you keep an eye out, in case she brought someone else with her.”
“Roger that,” said the redhead. He left the two men at the entrance and disappeared in the hallway as he headed to the back.
“Five minutes, huh? That’s odd,” said Fournier as he peeked through the small window by the door.
“Recognize her?” Doc asked.
The old man took another look at the tall blond woman in the grey pantsuit who was cautiously walking towards the house. “No, I’ve never seen her before in my life.”
The woman finally arrived at the porch and rang the bell.
Fournier waited a moment and then opened the door. “Yes?”
She paused and studied him with a strange expression, as if she was trying to recognize him. “Professor Jerome Fournier?” she asked.
The professor felt a chill run down his spine. She knew his real name, not the alias he had been using for the past few years. He had left the name Jerome Fournier behind when he had fled from the Arc facility and had never used it since. How could she know it?
The old man tried to keep a straight face and said, “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong address. There’s no one here by that name.”
“Please, I need to speak with you,” she insisted.
“I told you, you’ve got the wrong place. Goodbye, Miss,” he said, before shutting the door in her face.
“I was a friend of Professor Aleksandr Karpov,” she shouted from the other side.
After a brief period of silence, the door opened again.
“Who are you?” Fournier asked.
“My name is Marie Heirtmeyer. I’m only asking for a few minutes of your time. Please.”
Fournier hesitated a moment, and then stepped aside and nodded for her to come in.
Marie proceeded with caution—the events of the previous night had made her unusually wary. She halted as soon as she saw Doc standing in the hallway.
Fournier simply introduced him as a friend, without giving his name, and then led them into the living room.
Marie waited for the two men to take their seats before taking hers. She chose the one nearest to the door, opposite Doc, with the professor to her left, and with a clear view of the hallway to her right.
“Well, Miss, what can I do for you?” Fournier asked.
Marie shot a quick glance at Doc and seemed to hesitate.
“It’s all right,” said Fournier. “You can speak freely. You said your name was Marie …”
“Heirtmeyer, yes.”
“And how is it you’ve come to know my name?”
“I’m a detective in the Criminal Investigation Division in Berlin.”
“Berlin?” Fournier echoed.
“Yes. I met Professor Karpov during one of my investigations. He actually solved that case for me.” An affectionate smile flickered across her face. “Anyway, long story short, we became friends. Close friends. We spent a lot of time together, and I cared for him very much.”
Fournier raised his chin and examined her from behind his glasses. “That still doesn’t explain how you know my name. Or Alek’s, for that matter. I’m quite certain he would never have revealed it to anyone.”
“Oh, he didn’t,” said Marie. “At least not intentionally.” She took out two photographs from her purse and handed one to the old man.
It was the picture Marie had seen on the night she had learned of Aleksandr Karpov’s true identity. A picture of three men standing together, smiling.
> “You look about fifteen to twenty years younger in that photograph,” Marie said. “But it’s definitely you, with Professor Karpov, and that French diplomat who died in a car accident. Except, the professor told me his friend’s death was no accident. He was convinced someone was behind the whole thing, and that the same people would come for him too.” Marie lowered her eyes. “I believed him, of course, but I didn’t take the threat seriously enough. And now he’s gone.”
Deep furrows formed on Fournier’s brow as he paused to think.
Up until then, Doc had listened in silence as he observed the young woman. His instincts told him she was being truthful, but experience had taught him that one could never be too careful. “Why should we believe any of this?” He asked her. “For all we know, Karpov never gave you this photograph. You said you’re a detective? You could have just found it inside his apartment.”
“I did find it,” she said. “The professor would never have let me take it. He was far too paranoid.”
She handed the second photograph to Fournier. It was the one taken in a park by an old Japanese couple. It showed Marie and Professor Karpov holding each other by the arm. They were both smiling. And it wasn’t the kind of fake smile people make when they know their picture is about to be taken. Those were genuine, carefree smiles.
Fournier’s throat tightened with emotion when he gazed at the picture. He didn’t think neither he nor his friend would ever again be capable of displaying such a smile.
Just like Aleksandr Karpov, Jerome Fournier too had been forced to live the life of a recluse. He had kept a low profile, never allowing himself to form any kind of significant attachment to anyone. It was a life of loneliness, spent trapped in the mistakes of the past, and haunted by its many regrets. And yet, somehow, his friend had apparently managed to find moments of joy from within the confines of this isolation. It warmed Fournier’s heart to see it.
He stared at the photograph for a long while, and then finally looked up at the young woman and asked, “How did you find me?”
“The email address,” she replied. “The one set up for you and Professor Karpov. It led me to this area. And since I knew what you look like from the picture, well … I am a detective after all.”
“I see,” Fournier simply said.
“This is not good,” Doc remarked. “If she could find you, then it’s only a matter of time before someone else does too.”
“I kept the email secret,” said Marie. “Only two of my colleagues know about it, and they can be trusted not to say anything.”
“Why did you come here?” Fournier asked.
She locked eyes with him. “I want to find the people responsible for the professor’s murder.”
Fournier jumped in his seat. “What? No, no, no, no, that’s a bad idea.”
“A very bad idea,” Doc emphasized. “You don’t want to get mixed up in this, trust me. You should go back to Berlin while you still can.”
“Yes, yes!” Fournier vibrantly approved. “You should go back. Today. Right now. I assure you, it’s for the best.”
“I’m not going to do that,” Marie told them in a firm voice.
“Young woman, you have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into,” Fournier warned.
“You’re right, I didn’t,” she said. “But I think I’m starting to, now.”
“What does that mean?” Doc asked.
“Last night, I had an encounter with the man who murdered Professor Karpov. He nearly killed my partner. And he tried to kill me too.”
Both men froze and gave her an incredulous look.
Seeing that they didn’t believe her, she described the man to them. “A little over 6 feet tall, thin but athletic build, blond hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and a really creepy smile.”
“It can’t be …” The old man muttered.
“Actually,” Marie continued. “I was hoping you’d be able to help me make sense of a few things. I get to see plenty of weird stuff in my line of work, but what happened last night … was impossible.”
All of sudden, a redheaded man carrying a semi-automatic rifle came rushing in from the dining room.
Marie sprang from her seat, drew a gun from her hip holster, and pointed it at him.
Doc and Fournier also rose to their feet when they saw him.
The redhead put his hands up in a non-threatening gesture, letting his rifle hang by a strap over his shoulder. “Relax, lady,” he said. “Believe me, it’s not me you need to worry about, right now.”
“What’s up, Sonar?” Doc asked.
“We’ve got company.”
Doc immediately ran to the window by the door. “How many?”
“Not sure,” said Sonar. “Maybe a dozen. There are more of them approaching from the back.”
Marie watched uncomprehendingly, her weapon still trained on the redhead.
“Friends of yours?” Doc asked her.
She hesitated briefly before joining him at the window.
Keeping her gun in her hand, ready to fire at Doc or Sonar at the first sign of trouble, she pushed the curtain aside just enough to see what was going on outside.
She didn’t see anyone.
“Not there,” said Doc. “Look farther.”
Marie redirected her gaze. Before long, she was able to make out a number of dark figures shuffling inside the bushes.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“That’s what we’d like to know,” said Sonar.
“They’re trouble,” Doc said as he moved away from the window. “I’m pretty sure I just spotted Carson.”
“Who’s Carson?” the detective asked.
“He’s bad news,” Doc replied. “We have to warn the others.”
Chapter 9 – Surrounded
A few minutes earlier, upstairs in Ashrem’s room …
“It’s no use,” said Soran, his forehead pressed against the glass as he gazed outside. “I can’t see her anymore.”
“I told you,” said Lucielle. “There’s no way to get a clear view of the porch from this angle. Anyway, she’s probably inside the house by now.”
“I don’t get why we all have to stay up here,” the young man complained as he moved away from the window. “It’s not like she knows who we are.”
“We don’t know who she is, either,” said Lucielle. “Besides, the three of us should avoid being seen as much as possible.” She then turned to Rock. “And you obviously stand out too much. You’re too easy to remember.”
“Huh! Look who’s talking,” the giant scoffed.
“Humph!” The young girl crossed her arms and pouted.
“What?” Rock exclaimed all of a sudden. It was the third time in the past minute alone that he had caught Ashrem casting a furtive glance at him.
The young man looked embarrassed. “Erm … I just wanted to say …”
“Come on, spit it out already,” said the giant. “What do you want?”
“I didn’t get a chance to thank you for what you did,” said Ashrem. “You risked your life to save me.”
“What do you mean, Ash?” Soran asked, looking intrigued.
“Last night, he had plenty of opportunities to make a run for it. It was me Jenkins wanted. But even after I told him to leave, Rock chose to stay and fight rather than save himself.” Ashrem turned to the giant, “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I didn’t expect that from you. You have my gratitude.”
Soran laughed and gave the mercenary a vigorous tap on the chest with the back of his hand. “Look at you! After all that stuff you said about handing us over to Leicester. I gotta say I’m surprised. I guess I had you pegged wrong, big guy.”
“Shut up!” Rock said as he shoved Soran back to the window.
“Well, I’m not surprised.” Lucielle got up from her chair and walked over to the giant. “Thank you for helping my brother,” she said in a serious tone. “I knew that, really … really deep down, you were a nice guy.”
“Did you have to say ‘
really’ twice?” the giant complained.
“Uh-oh!” Soran suddenly exclaimed.
They all turned to the young man and saw him staring intently out the window.
“What did you make that noise for?” Rock asked.
“Everyone, get down!” Soran shouted as he dived to protect Lucielle.
Rock and Ashrem heeded the warning and quickly hit the deck just before a bullet smashed the window and shattered the light bulb on the ceiling.
The mercenary promptly drew his firearm. “Who’s shooting at us?” he asked.
“I think they’re Jenkins’ men,” Soran replied.
“How the hell did they find this place?” Rock said.
A barrage of bullets tore through the living room for approximately five seconds, and then stopped as abruptly as it had started.
“What’s going on?” Marie shouted as she lay flat on the floor—along with the three men.
“No time to explain,” said Doc. He gave a sweeping look around, pausing for a moment as he stared at the big hole left by the shattered glass bay doors. “We need to get upstairs.”
“I agree,” said Sonar. “There’s no way we can hold this position. They’ll overrun us in seconds.”
“And how do you both suggest we get up there?” Fournier asked. “Won’t they start shooting again if they see us move?”
Doc Chen raised an eyebrow at the professor. “You seem pretty calm considering the circumstances.”
The old man chuckled. “I haven’t had any real excitement in years. I actually find this quite exhilarating.”
Sonar smiled. “Whatever, Pops. Just try not to get killed, OK.”
Marie stared, wide-eyed, at the trio. “How can all of you joke at a time like this?” she said. “There are people out there trying to kill us.”
“Yeah, we get that a lot,” said Sonar.
“Yo! Is everybody alive down there?” A voice shouted from the top of the staircase.
Doc crawled to the hallway door and shouted back, “We’re fine, Rock. And you guys?”
“Still in one piece.”
“Good. We need you to lay down some cover fire so we can get up there.”
“You wanna come up?” said the giant, sounding surprised. “Shouldn’t we be looking for a way out, instead?”
