The Little Burgundy: A Jeanne Dark Adventure

by Bill Jones Jr.

  Just as we’d rehearsed, both kids pointed to their aunt.

  “Traitors! Infidels!”

  The kids cackled, ran behind the bicycle, and began to push. Despite her almost constant grumbling, we were off. Within thirty minutes, Dark had unclenched her eyes, unfolded her arms, and her breath had begun to steady. We’d reached a high plain, having left the family’s property and were at a crossroads that intersected two fields of tall grass and weeds on one side, and rolling hills on the other.

  “Which way?” I asked.

  “Whichever way takes us home.”

  I stopped the bike and looked over my shoulder at her. She was wearing oversized, round sunglasses that covered half her face. The other half was covered by a pink scarf that wrapped around her neck and mouth. I was surprised she could even talk. “Come on, aren’t you having even a little fun?”

  “I told you, I haven’t been on a bicycle since I was eleven.”

  “That’s when you had your accident, yes. But I don’t get why you’re so afraid of them. You weren’t on one when you were hit.”

  “I was walking because a boy from school stole my bicycle and I was hurrying trying to catch him. The same drunk that hit me turned the corner, speeding up to get away before the police showed up, and struck the boy who stole my bicycle, killing him on impact. My accursed bicycle had the same accident even without me.”

  “That’s insane.”

  “I can’t even remember the boy’s name. But he would be alive if it weren’t for me and that bicycle.

  “Jeanne, he was killed because of a drunk driver. It was a tragedy, but it wasn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe, but in any case, I learned one thing. Bicycles are dangerous.”

  “Well, walking is equally dangerous by that measure.” I was going to suggest we go back, since she’d obviously decided not to have fun, when Dark climbed off the bike. She took a few steps and cupped her hands to her forehead, her head tilted up to the sky. I climbed off and followed her.

  “What are you looking at?”

  She pointed to a small, dark point in the distant sky. It was moving fast. “What is that buzzing?”

  I stopped and listened. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “It’s a bzzzzzz, like a … what? Grass cutter.”

  “You mean lawn mower.”

  “Oui. Like that sound, except in the sky.”

  I shrugged. “It’s probably just a plane, maybe a small, one-engine deal.”

  “I don’t think so.” She pointed and the small craft circled in a long arc that brought it nearer. “See? I don’t think it’s far away. It’s just very small.”

  I squinted in the bright light as the plane neared. For the first time, I could hear the small engine. It sounded nothing like a lawn mower. “On the bike, now!”

  “I’d rather walk.”

  “Dammit, Jeannie, not now!” I picked her up, slinging my kicking wildcat over my shoulder and plopped her on the back seat. I released her and she immediately tried to climb off. “Dark!”

  She stopped and looked at me. “What?”

  “That’s not a lawn mower and it’s not a plane.” I pointed to the craft, which had stopped its series of arcs and was now vectoring in our direction. “That is a drone and it’s coming this way.”

  “I knew it! I knew it!” she said, hitting me even harder. “I told you bicycles are bad luck.”

  “Maybe so, but if you don’t stop hitting me and help me pedal, that bad luck is going to be the last thing you ever see.”

  I climbed on the front seat and started churning my legs as fast as they’d go. For the first time, I could feel an effort from Dark in the back. “Okay, but only because you called me Jeannie.” I turned to look at her, incredulous. The drone had dropped to at lower altitude and was on a beeline toward the back of her head. The buzzing grew to the low hum of a propeller, sounding much like a distant airplane. Dark must have caught my expression because she turned and gave out a low, “Oh merde.”

  “Dark, lift up your legs. You won’t be able to pedal fast enough.”

  “I would have been fast enough if you’d let me drive my Renault.”

  “Not now.”

  I began a series of zigzag movements I knew would have little to no effect on the drone’s tracking, but there was little else I could do on the narrow road. I heard Dark scream and seconds later, she covered my eyes as a line of gunfire strafed the road next to us. “Dark, I can’t see!” I tried to zig when I meant to zag, and we veered off the road into a field of high grass. From our right, I could see the small drone rise and turn for another run.

  “That’s a little recon drone,” I said. “Those things aren’t supposed to carry armaments.”

  “Well, when it kills me, be sure to complain to your congressman.” She hit me again.

  I began pedaling, making little headway through the grass, but the road was too open. “Come on, we’ll have to try it on foot.” She climbed off and hit me again. “Why do you keep hitting me?” I was shouting.

  “I don’t know!” she yelled back.

  I pulled her and we began running toward the high ground, where the grass was at least knee high. Behind, the drone had aligned itself with us and I was sure to keep us running in as close to a straight line as possible. We were galumphing through the clumps of high grass, moving as quickly as Dark’s hip allowed. I could hear the drone gaining on us.

  “It’s getting closer,” Dark said. Her voice was beginning to calm.

  “Wait until it’s just above and behind.”

  We ran five more paces and she shouted, “Now!”

  I pulled her arm and we dove to the right as the drone emptied another volley of bullets into the grass, mowing it down and sending seeds, blades of grass, and pollen flying to the air. I rolled from under Dark, reached behind me, pulled out my pistol, and sprinted away from her to draw the drone to me. I could hear her calling my name over the din of the returning plane and I dove once again into the grass as it fired fifteen or twenty more shots in my direction. I felt a dull thud in my side, rolled to my knees and fired ten shots in succession at the retreating drone. On shot ten, I heard a satisfying metallic clang and the damnable little robot spiraled out of control, disappearing into a nearby hill with nary a sound. I must have hit the small propeller at its rear. I fell to my back and tried to regain my composure. It had been too long since I’d seen any real action.

  “That was some shot,” Dark said. Her voice was tight with excitement.

  “Yeah, I used to be pretty good, a million years ago.”

  “What is pretty good?”

  “Expert in rifle and pistol. Won a few competitions.”

  Dark was wisely still below the grass line crawling to me on her belly. “I thought you were military intelligence.”

  “I was, eventually. My first few years in I was a sniper. Really, really didn’t like the work. Luckily, they let me retrain.”

  “Was it luck?” She reached me and stretched to kiss me. It shocked me at first because we’d automatically gone into work mode, and for a moment I forgot we were a couple.

  “Let’s say they owed me one and leave it at that.” Some things are best not discussed or dreamt about for the next ten or fifteen years. Being good at your job can sometimes leave residue a lifetime’s cleansing can’t purge. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

  “We need to figure out who is trying to kill us.”

  I tried to stand but a sharp pain in my right side bade me genuflect.

  “Foss, you’re shot!”

  I was going to say something dramatic like, I’ve had worse, but it would have been a lie. I’d never been shot, and it hurt like hell.

  Dark was a cool as I’d ever seen her. “Put your arm around me,” she said.

  I tried, but I was way too much a load for her, and we both stumbled to the grass. I was beginning to get pretty woozy. Worse was my burgeoning fear that maybe the bullet had pierced a lung. I was on my knees
in the grass with Dark facing me, trying to pull me to my feet, when a small all-wheel drive vehicle came tearing up the road and onto the field in which we’d fled. Dark let me go and tried to take my gun from my pocket, but it fell into the grass.

  “Shit!” I turned and fell face down into the grass, groping along the ground for the gun. Dark ran off in the direction of the bicycle keeping low to the ground. I hoped she was trying to flee. The car squealed to a stop just a few feet short of me and I turned just in time to see a lone figure dressed in camo and a hooded jacket and wearing a face mask. He held his pistol military style. I guessed he wasn’t the drone operator but some sort of fail-safe backup.

  “Up!” I tried to detect an accent, but couldn’t.

  I wobbled to my knees, tried to stand too quickly, swooned, and fell over backward.

  “Easy enough this way, mate,” he said, and stood over me with his pistol aimed at my face. “Tell Allah I said hello.”

  I closed my eyes and waited, hoping it would be quick. Instead of a gunshot, I heard a pop and the unmistakable rattle of electricity discharging from Dark’s Taser in beautiful harmony with my would-be killer’s screams. By then, I was more unconscious than awake, but I could see her feet and the business end of her cane at the gunman’s back. I shut my eyes to his screams as Dark discharged the Taser into him a second time, then a third. I tried to tell her to stop, but passed out around the sixth or seventh hit.

  ***

  It turns out I didn’t die, which I knew when I woke up with Jette sitting over me changing the dressing on my bandage instead of strumming on her heavenly harp. I was reliving the assault in my dream, except this time, there was an entire squadron of Taliban in pursuit, and I was protecting Dark, who was dressed as a French Resistance fighter. We were getting our asses kicked. I came to alertness all at once and tried to jump out of the bed, almost knocking Jette over.

  “Steady, steady,” she said. “You’re safe. You lost quite a lot of blood, but that’s all. You just need rest.”

  My voice was a harsh croak. “How’s Dark?”

  She smiled. “Your partner is fine, and so is your fiancée.”

  “The assailant?”

  “I will let her talk to you about it.” She waved towards her left, and Dark slid over to the bed, practically lying on me. “I’ll leave you two alone.”

  “What happened after …” I stopped speaking as my mind finished my sentence with I passed out to leave you to be raped and killed. I wanted to kick my own ass but I was too weak.

  “Jette was amazed that you stayed conscious so long. She said the bullet nicked an artery. You should have bled out, Foss.” She kissed me, which I returned. A kiss never felt so good.

  “How did you get out of there?”

  “I lost my temper.” She sat up straight and wiped her eyes. “The police say he will be okay, eventually.”

  I started giggling.

  Dark poked her lip at me. “It’s not funny. I shocked him until he passed out.” She looked around then leaned over to whisper. “Then, I shock his balls!”

  I laughed so hard my stitches began to hurt. I kept repeating, “I shock his balls!” in my best Jeanne Dark voice until she started laughing too.

  “Foss, the police didn’t find a trace of the drone.”

  “No, and they won’t either. I’m guessing there were three teams: the drone operator in the U.S., a recovery team, and the knucklehead they sent to finish the job if the drone failed.”

  “Well, as far as the police are concerned, it was just a robbery attempt.”

  “Good, the last thing we need is police involvement anyway.”

  She placed a hand on my chest. “I figure there are four possibilities for who is behind our various murder attempts.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “One, is M. Hardesty. He is your Homeland Security and probably has access to such resources, no?”

  I nodded my agreement. “Probably the drone and personnel, if need be, although he’d need approval from a much higher authority.”

  “I don’t think God takes sides.”

  “Not what I meant, but close enough.”

  “Two, likewise Monica Samuels, although something tells me she is not just Homeland Security.”

  “No, I have her pegged as hardcore CIA.”

  “Then perhaps she would have access without needing approval.”

  “Could be.”

  “Three, though maybe less likely are the Seize Mai group. Not sure they could get access to a drone, but anyone can get an RPG these days.” She looked at me for confirmation. I held my tongue until she finished. “And finally, though I hate to admit you were right, would be my Captain Gharnati.” She saw my expression and pursed her lips. “I get to be wrong once in a while.”

  “Hey, let me enjoy it. This is the first time it’s happened since we met.”

  “Merci.”

  Dark had picked up on Weasel Rudenko’s last words. Just before dying, he’d asked if it was Gharnati who’d attacked us. Odd question regarding a normal Gendarme with no close associations to the case. It had slipped my mind until she brought it up, but it did make me wonder if he’d given us Rudenko’s address solely to make it easier to take all three of us out with one fake terrorist attack.

  “If it is Gharnati,” I said, “then that incriminates Hardesty too.”

  “Oui, assuming Samuels wasn’t the one who gave him Gharnati’s name.”

  I wiped the sleep out of my eyes. It was good to be back on the job. “You’re right, but that puts us back where we started.”

  “Oui, that’s what I was afraid of,” she said. “I wish we had the drone. That would help, I think.”

  I slapped my forehead. “I’m an idiot. You’re right. I knew that drone immediately. It was a modified military drone.” All at once, as I pictured the drone in my mind, the details from the last few seconds before I passed out hit me. “Holy shit, Dark, that idiot thought I was Muslim. He was mumbling some racist shit about my seeing Allah.”

  Dark thrust up both fists. “Then we are fighting ourselves, exactly what I thought.”

  “Ourselves?”

  “Yes. Look, Hardesty, Samuels, or both sent us to London for confirmation that polonium was involved in a crime. We did so and discovered a large, international prostitution ring that is using the poison to extort important people around the globe.”

  “Right, so?”

  “So, they continue to talk about terrorists despite their two experts, namely us, telling them there were no terrorists.”

  “Which means they are either stupid or using it as a cover story.”

  “Oui. I vote both, by the way.” She didn’t crack a smile, which made me smile.

  I sat up, despite the pain. We were on a roll. It made the ache gratifying. “So for some reason, our employers are trying to kill us in order to … what, make us stop investigating the crime they sent us to solve?”

  Dark began pacing. With every few steps, she’d tap her cane on the floor. After five minutes, she stopped and spun in my direction. “We have been talking about resources, oui?” I agreed. “So we have a so-called terrorist group, a network of criminals with critical contacts in many countries, and weaponized polonium. What would you call that?”

  I pushed the covers off of me. “I’d call it the Intel setup of the century. How to spy on your allies and never get caught. Find out what you need, take out enemies without implicating yourself, using the criminals’ polonium to do the dirty deeds, and blame the terrorists for the crimes.” Dark gave me a round of applause. “Excellent, and it explains why we are here.”

  I ran it through my head’s computer but drew a blank. I shrugged.

  “They needed confirmation that polonium was involved, but didn’t want to file a report about it. They brought me in to verify their … resource without having to disclose to their superiors that the poison was involved.”

  “Because they planned to find the supply and steal it. But t
hat means they never intended on letting us live long enough to file our official report.” I grunted and swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Help me get dressed. We need to get the hell away from here so our family is safe.”

  Dark stood without moving, just looking at me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  A slow smile took over her face. “You really do want to marry me, don’t you?” I looked at her, puzzled. “Never mind,” she said, her face widening into a smile. “Put these on.” She threw me a clean pair of boxers. “By the way, Jette said to tell you, ‘Bravo.’” She winked, an exaggerated, mocking of one of her sister’s.

  I thought doctors weren’t supposed to notice a man’s bits like that.

  19 - Follow the Money

  Once we realized that some faction of the U.S. government was trying to kill us, Dark and I agreed on two things: one, nothing would make us quit this case, and two, we needed to disappear, in a hurry. Staying focused on the mission wasn’t bravery on either of our parts. This was like war—all of the grandest actions were motivated by confusion and panic. We needed to continue because someone had sent a weapons-grade military drone into France to kill us. I wasn’t certain the government would have done that for Osama bin Laden. The assassination attempt didn’t mean we were that important. It meant whoever was after us was that insane.

  Assassin. Having that conversation with Dark was the first time I’d let myself say the word out loud. It was the first time I’d thought it. In the dark, karmic way of the world, my very first job had come full circle. I was being chased by the very sort of person I’d risked my career not to become. It was the reason we needed to go underground too. These were professionals, and the normal cloak and dagger tricks wouldn’t work. The first thing we needed to do was replace our cell phones. We turned off our old phones, packed them in a carry-on bag, and headed to Marseille with Jette and the kids. There, we were able to get our hands on some untraceable mobiles that no one knew about. Given both Hardesty and Samuels knew all the details regarding our phones, it would take little effort to track us with them, even when turned off. In fact, we were counting on it. We’d send the old phones one way and go another ourselves.