Alex extended her arms over her head and took hold of the steel plumbing that ran across the wall above the toilet door. She hoisted her body up and delivered a powerful kick against the attacker's cheek. He stumbled back, letting go of the cord around Sam's neck. The guy with the broken nose surprised her from behind and tried to slip the tie around her throat again. Quick on her feet, Alex leaned in and used his body as leverage instead to twist both her ankles around the neck of Sam's attacker, choking him until he fell unconscious to the floor. She jerked her head back and broke her attacker's nose for a second time. Still trying to recover, Sam drove his fist into the guy's left kidney and followed on with a left hook to his jawbone.
The blow finally rendered him unconscious next to his associate on the floor.
Chapter Seven
“You okay?” Sam asked as he rubbed his throat and fell back, exhausted against the doorframe.
“Think so, you?”
“I’ll live. The scumbag left you with a bleeding lip though. We should get some ice on that.”
Sam touched the corner of her cracked lip with his thumb. “But boy did you teach them a lesson. It looks like you might have sneaked in a few more training sessions behind my back.”
“Yeah well, glad it paid off. It could’ve easily gone wrong, you know. We should tie these guys up before they wake up. You take his feet.”
They dragged the two men next to each other into the small washroom and sat them back to back on the floor.
“Thanks for the cord, fellows,” Sam gloated as he crisscrossed it firmly around both their hands and feet.
“Wait! We should check their pockets. Maybe we’ll be lucky enough to find out who they are.”
Alex slipped her hands into the pockets of the first guy’s jacket while Sam checked his pants.
“No wallet or ID here,” Sam said as he started his search of the next man which also turned up empty.
“One would think they’d have a mobile at least,” he added.
“That’s strange, why do you think he walks around with this in his pocket?” Alex asked when she pulled out a solid brass chess piece from the first attacker’s breast pocket.
“It’s a pawn from a chess set. Maybe a lucky charm or something?” Sam ventured.
“I don’t think so. Look, this guy has one too.”
“That is strange. What are the odds they both have the same lucky charms? They’re identical. Unless of course they play chess during their lunch breaks.”
“You’re funny. I don’t think these guys take lunch breaks, Sam.”
Alex inspected the two solid brass chess pawns in her hands before slipping them into the small pocket of her denim jeans.
“No time to figure it out now. Let’s wrap it up with these two before someone finds us.”
Sam broke off the door handle and the lock to secure them inside the washroom. “There, that should do it; no way these two can escape. Let’s grab some lunch. I’m starving.”
“You never did have your breakfast,” Alex laughed, flinching when her lip stung from her injury.
The dining car was full of life and energy with the tour group taking up most of the tables, and Alex and Sam took a seat at the small bistro bar at the other end of the carriage.
“Give us a scotch, please mate. It’s five o’clock somewhere,” Sam ordered from the barman, feeling like he needed more than a coffee, “and one for my fiancée too, please? She might actually need it more than me.”
He wrapped a few blocks of ice from a nearby ice bucket in his napkin and stuck it in Alex’s hand.
“You know what we’re doing here is pure insanity, don’t you? Those guys back there could have killed us. And for what?” Sam said as he threw back his whiskey.
“You’re the one who insisted we should get on this train, remember?”
“I know, but I’m starting to regret it now. You were right, Alex. This is insane. We’ve been on many missions together, but this one? This one is suicide. We’re out here on a whim following bread crumbs dropped by some nutcase, with no idea who he is or what we’re supposed to find at the end of this little game of his. Not to mention the fact that we’re being hunted down by heaven knows who? So here we are, stuck in the middle between two evils, neither of which we have knowledge of, and we’re playing along? You were right. That does sound insane.”
“What makes you think Mr. Anonymous is evil? If anything, it seems he’s been keeping us safe.”
“Safe! Alex, the guy got us onto this train in the first place. Who’s to say those two in the bathroom don’t work for him? How did they know we were here? What if you’re right and it was a trap? What if he is the one trying to kill us?”
“Well, glad you finally see things my way, but why would he want to kill us? His note said he needed my help. I fail to see a motive here. And whose business did I get warned to stay out of?”
“We should call this off and go to the police.”
“No, I don’t think the two are connected, Sam. Something’s up, and I’m going to find out what.”
“So you’re going to blindly chase after something and ignore the fact that they warned you not to meddle in their business? You have no idea what or who you’re involved with, Alex. Your life, heck both our lives are now at stake here!”
Alex flipped the menu open and started scanning through the meal options.
“Sweetheart, ignoring me isn’t going to make this go away.” Sam took hold of her hands and turned her to face him. “I can’t lose you, Alex. Truth is, I’m scared for both of us.”
Sam was right to be scared. She knew the entire mission was foolish, but something inside her couldn’t let go now until she knew the truth. Discovering the two brass pawns had her more curious now than ever before.
“I know, Sam. I’m sorry I got you into this, but I can’t back off now. You said it yourself. How do we turn away from something that might lead to the greatest exposé in history? What if that newspaper article leads us to the dauphin’s remains? Or better yet, what if we discover there really wasn’t a body in the first place and that he never died? We’d solve a historical mystery that’s been plaguing people all around the world for centuries. What if all this unlocks facts surrounding the French Revolution? The French Revolution, Sam! Do you know how big that is?”
Sam watched as Alex’s eyes lit up with excitement. He’d fallen in love with her the moment he first saw that precise passion for archaeology back in Tanzania. What’s more, was that Sam couldn’t deny that the prospect excited him too. He looked down at the ring on her left hand and flicked his thumb over the one-carat tanzanite stone.
“When I asked your father for your hand in marriage, he told me something. He said I should never try to clip your wings and that you were always meant to discover a great many things.” He gazed into her eyes. “You’re the most remarkable woman I know, Alex, and when I put this ring on your finger, it was for life. One day, I’m hoping we could start a family, and when that time comes, we’ll take the safe road. But for now, I’m with you, no matter what and no matter where it takes you. But promise me one thing, we stick together, and you never keep anything from me again, okay?”
Alex nodded and whispered, “Promise,” her heart bursting with love for Sam.
“Great, now can we please eat before I pass out?”
The rest of the train ride into Paris bore no danger, and Alex and Sam stepped out onto the platform at the Gare du Nord terminus in the center of Paris.
“I thought St Pancras was busy. This place is buzzing. Now what?” Sam paused, looking out into the crowded station.
“I don’t know. I guess we find a hotel for the night and hope Mr. Anonymous communicates with us in due course. He always seems to know where to find us.”
“Spot any surprise welcome parties?” Sam asked as they scanned the terminal for any suspicious-looking men in taupe suits.
“Looks clear to me.”
“Pardon, mademoiselle, you forgo
t your purse.” A friendly Frenchman called out from the platform behind them, waving a crossbody clutch handbag in the air.
“Oh no-no, it’s not mine,” Alex responded, holding up her hand.
“Oui oui, it is yours. You left it at the bar,” the man insisted and shoved it in her hands before disappearing down the nearby escalator.
Alex stared at the black embellished handbag in her hand. A pink beaded poodle next to a sequined picture of the Eiffel tower stared back at her; the words Ooh-La-La written in white chalk-like font across the top.
“And that’s how you know you’re in Paris,” Sam joked. “Well, open it. Something tells me it’s another one of Mr. Anonymous’ special deliveries.”
Alex didn’t hesitate and flipped the pink silk-lined flap open to reveal a gold embossed card and a digital key to a hotel.
“It’s an invitation,” she said, declaring the obvious to Sam before reading it out loud.
Your presence is requested at the annual
Le Grand Bal Masqué
du Château de Versailles
“A masked ball. Sounds like my kind of party,” Sam said excitedly. “When is it?”
“Tonight.”
“Well, then, mademoiselle, we should find the hotel and hope they can help us find some costumes to wear. I don’t think Kenny and Dollie will quite suit this particular affair. Where do you suppose we can find a taxi?”
The hotel was a lavishly appointed five-star establishment in the center of Paris. It was hard not to get caught up in the grand ambiance it evoked. With her nerves now slightly less on edge, it didn’t take Alex long to settle in. Her over-the-top suite offered a spectacular view from her balcony, enjoying the full splendor of the magnificent view of the Paris skyline. In the adjoining suite, Sam took full advantage of the caviar platter and steam shower, feeling and acting every bit like a king. That being so, it also came as no surprise that their baroque costumes for the masked ball were ready and waiting for them in their wardrobes.
Alex had never been to a masked ball before. It wasn’t entirely her scene, but when she faced the mirror and caught full sight of her dress, French royalty flooded her senses. Traveling the world with her explorer parents, cargo pants and T-shirts had always been her garments of choice. She had never been one for black satin and lace. But now, staring at her image in the mirror from beneath the black lace mask covering half her face, she found herself liking it more than she ever thought possible.
“Wow! Who are you, and what have you done with my fiancée?”
Sam sneaked up behind her.
“You look like you might actually be a queen. Aren’t I a lucky man?”
“One night only, Sam Quinn,” Alex replied, feeling embarrassed for getting caught admiring herself.
“I hear there is a chapel in the palace. Sure you don’t want to tie the knot tonight?” Sam whispered against her neck.
“I’m sure. Perhaps you might need to take a cold shower before we go.”
“That’s a shame,” he said, ignoring her naughty comment, “Paris could be something you’d never forget.”
Alex giggled. “Behave yourself. We have business matters to take care of.” She reached for her gun and slipped it into a holster strapped to her thigh underneath her dress.
A brief knock at the door announced the arrival of a hotel attendant.
“Ah the life of the wealthy, never a private moment when you need one.”
“You do know we’re not actually wealthy, right? All this is make-believe,” Alex reminded him.
“All in the name of business, yes,” Sam called back as he invited the attendant in.
“Your car is waiting, monsieur, mademoiselle,” the staffer announced before leaving as quickly as he’d appeared.
“Well, you heard the man. Let’s get this party started. Shall we go then, my queen? Apparently, we now also have a car waiting for us downstairs. You really know how to pick them, that’s certain. I don’t think I’ve ever stayed in a hotel this fancy. I feel like we won the lottery.”
Chapter Eight
When they reached the hotel foyer, they were greeted by their now-familiar room attendant who discreetly ushered them into a dark alley from the rear exit of the hotel and then promptly turned and closed the door behind them.
“Please follow me, monsieur, mademoiselle.”
A male voice suddenly spoke behind them, and Alex and Sam swung around to meet a tall man wearing a black suit and tie and black leather gloves.
A reflex reaction had Alex reach for her gun but she stopped when the man spoke again.
“No need, mademoiselle, I mean you no harm. Just following orders.”
“Whose orders? Who sent you?” Sam questioned.
“My master will reveal himself soon. Please, follow me to the car. I will be your driver to the Château de Versailles.”
“My master?” Sam whispered to Alex as they followed the man through the empty alley around the back of the hotel to where a shiny white car was parked.
“Oh, this guy has money, lots of it too if you ask me,” Sam said, bursting with excitement as they set eyes on the luxury vehicle.
“I can definitely get used to this,” Sam added when they slipped into the red leather seats.
“I wouldn’t get too carried away if I were you. Cinderella’s coach turned back into a pumpkin at midnight. Let’s not forget why we’re here.” Alex was cautiously keeping her eye on the driver as he walked around to get into the car.
“Don’t be such a party pooper, Alex. When have you ever been driven around Paris in a car like this? It’s a Rolls Royce Phantom for crying out loud. Not to mention attending a masked ball in a real palace. Live a little, my love. This could be our pre-wedding honeymoon. We could still elope, you know. I’m sure our driver knows a clergy who can marry us at short notice.”
The chauffeur slipped in behind the wheel and promptly suggested that they pour themselves a glass of the special reserve Dom Perignon that lay snug in an ice bucket behind a small compartment.
“Don’t mind if I do, thank you…“ Sam paused, hinting for the driver to introduce himself.
“Philippe, sir.”
“Well, Philippe, nice to meet you.”
“Who is this master you speak of? Who do you work for, Philippe?” Alex interrupted the pleasantries. But the driver merely responded by closing the window partitioning between them.
“Here, have a glass of proper champagne. You might as well sit back and enjoy the evening, Alex. You’re not going to get anything out of this guy. He’s loyal to a fault. Probably gets paid enough to keep his mouth shut. Obviously Mr. Anonymous needs to keep us sweet and if this is what that translates to, I’m all in.”
“I mean it, Sam. Don’t get too comfortable. All this is smoke and mirrors. Might I remind you that we have no idea who this man is or what he wants from us? We need to stay focused. One slip and we could end up dead.”
Sam popped the champagne back into the ice bucket and cleared his throat.
“You’re right, Alex. We shouldn’t touch the thousand-pound French champagne and go to, what I assume would be an invitation-only masked ball at a real French palace. So what if this is a once in a lifetime experience? To live like the rich and famous for one night, only to be killed by our host. We should not enjoy any of this and expect the worse.”
Alex shot Sam a stern look, annoyed at his sarcastic reply. But, as desperate as she was to be angered by his derisive mocking, the playful twinkle in his eyes melted all her defenses. He was right. It’s not every day they were treated like royalty.
“Okay fine, I suppose you’re right. I doubt the man would be spending this much money wining and dining us if he wanted to kill us.”
“Precisely, now sit back and enjoy the experience. Sometimes you need to have a little trust in people. Not everyone is a bad guy. We’ll be fine. Here’s to a night of living it up in Paris. Vive la France!”
As the couple stepped out of their chauf
feur-driven car inside the opulent gates of the Palace of Versailles, a majestic aura lay thick in the air. Dozens of people dressed in similar baroque garb lined the pristine landscaped garden paths around an enormous center fountain. Topiary trees and perfectly pruned shrubs announced the fact that they were walking where a proper King and Queen of France once strolled. But inside the walls of the chateau, it wasn’t at all the formal affair they had expected to see. Colorful lasers beamed over their heads while loud modern party music had encouraged several small groups to dance. Entertainers performed on a stage under brightly colored flashing disco lights, and trapeze artists swung from overhead scaffolds, making it seem more reminiscent of a young people’s club scene than a royal ball.
“Okay, so this is a little different from what I thought it would be, but it will do. Let’s mingle,” Sam said playfully.
“No, monsieur, you’re expected in the Salon d’Hercule,” Philippe beckoned.
“Salon d’what?” Sam asked.
“Salon d’Hercule, monsieur. It was the king and queen’s drawing room where the main suppers, balls and receptions were held,” Philippe informed them.
“So it’s a private party separate from all of this?”
“Oui, mademoiselle.”
Intrigued, Alex and Sam followed Philippe as he led them through a doorway to a gallery that extended more than two hundred feet. The walls were decorated with a dozen or more wide arcaded mirrors each opposite a large window that overlooked the gardens below. Glass chandeliers adorned the arched, ornately painted ceiling upon which a series of scenes depicted the glorious history of Louis XIV. The vaulted ceilings were encrusted with what seemed like pure gold. Beams of light glistened in a kaleidoscope off of the gold decals and gilded statues that bordered the marble walls. Large arched windows, each with a gilded pillar and separate chandeliers, forced its visitors' attention to the spectacular views over Paris.
The Dauphin Deception Page 6