The Dauphin Deception

by Urcelia Teixeira

  “I think they’ve left,” Sam whispered.

  “I can’t be sure I heard both leave, assuming we actually only heard two of them. There might have been more, who knows?”

  “We don’t, but we’re going to need to risk it and hope for the best.”

  Deciding to trust Sam’s advice, Alex pushed the button on the side of the ladder. The popping sound followed. Her hand reached for her gun, just in case. Eased by the lack of any sounds or movement in the room, she cautiously slid the hatch aside. There was no one there, so she continued into the room.

  “Clear,” she whispered indicating to Sam to climb up too, briefly pausing on the spot.

  Alex took in the room from behind the mahogany desk where it stood a few yards away from the wall behind her. Next to her, a paired brown leather chair with brass claw feet had been neatly tucked in behind the desk. Apart from the blue leather binder on the desk, the surface was clear. She skimmed the corners of the room in search of security cameras just as Sam took his place next to her. Her search came up empty. To their right, heavy blue drapes covered the only window in the room, and to their left, the entire wall was taken up by an impressive collection of Renaissance paintings. Her eyes settled on the Mona Lisa in the middle of the wall. Knowing the original was on display in the Louvre, she couldn’t help but notice that it certainly made for an excellent replica.

  “Gabriel, which painting?” she whispered.

  “There’s not supposed to be that many on the wall,” he replied with angst in his voice as he took in the view through Sam’s button camera.

  “Well, I just counted twelve, Duval. Which one is it?” Sam responded irritated.

  “How should I know? Pick one.”

  “That’s your answer to everything tonight, isn’t it?” Sam snapped back.

  “How big is the vault, Gabriel?” Alex intervened sensing the two were at loggerheads again.

  “As far as I know the size of a shoebox.”

  By now Alex had pushed her cheek flush against the wall next to one of the paintings and continued along the wall as far as her eyes allowed her to see.

  “Don’t!” She stopped Sam from lifting one of them away from the wall. “It could have a tripwire.”

  “You mean like this one?” Sam pointed to a painting of a young boy holding a sword and a shield. Above his head was a halo and large green angel wings extended from his back. His one foot pinned a demon-like creature to the ground while several similar creatures encircled him.

  “Any idea what we’re dealing with here?” Sam continued.

  “The search engine says it’s called Saint Michael Overwhelming the Demon, painted by Raphael in 1505,” Gabriel responded proudly.

  “I was talking about the tripwire, Duval.”

  “Oh yes, of course, what color is it?”

  “Black and it’s attached to some type of flatpack between the painting and the wall.”

  Alex and Sam waited while Gabriel researched the alarm system.

  “It’s a standard sensor pack. The unit operates by monitoring changes in the pressure between the painting and the supporting wall, down to approximately half an ounce. Removal of the painting will release the pressure and activate the alarm. Likewise, the unit will also detect increases in pressure.”

  “Bottom line, please, Duval. Can we cut the wires?”

  “Hold on.”

  “No! Don’t cut the wires. I repeat, don’t—“

  “We heard you, Gabriel, just tell us what to look for? There has to be a switch or something, right?”

  “Affirmative, Alex, it could be via remote control or a release button.”

  Alex went back to the desk and yanked open the two small drawers on each side. Seeing nothing that would resemble a switch, she moved across the floor to the bookshelf and skimmed her eyes along the shelves. Still, the result was the same. Pausing next to the desk she decided to move the chair away from the desk and hunched down to see underneath it. Her eyes rested on a silver gun strapped to the table and next to it, a small remote with a red button.

  “Think I found it. Ready?” she asked Sam who still stood with his cheek against the wall next to the painting.

  “Ready.”

  She triggered the switch, and Sam heard the faintest sounds of a surging break behind the painting.

  “Yep, that did the trick,” he commented as he lifted the painting from the wall.

  Anticipating a shoebox-sized vault, they instead found one about twice the size in the wall.

  “Code please, Duval.”

  Sam’s fingers lingered an inch away from the digital display panel on the vault. The slightest of tremblings was visible in his fingers as he waited for Gabriel to respond.

  “Today please, Duval,” he urged.

  “Copy that. Bravo, three, zero, four, lima, victor, five seven, whiskey, nine.”

  Surprised the code still worked, the vault opened to reveal a thick antique leather-bound book. Alex pulled the book from the vault. Hand-stitched in brown leather, the book emitted an air of prestige. Gold gilt detail on the spine and a tooled leather cover confirmed it to be dating back to at least the nineteenth to the early twentieth century. Heavier than it looked, she slipped it into her backpack.

  “You did it! You got the names!” Gabriel’s voice blared into their ears. “Sam, Alex, get out of there. Time to bring these traitors down.”

  But neither of his two team members answered back.

  “Guys, do you copy? You did it, let’s get you out of there.”

  Panic rushed through Gabriel’s insides when he repeated his plea and still no answers from either Sam or Alex returned. Seconds later, the speaker system in Francois’ basement headquarters delivered the piercing sound that all comms with Alex and Sam had ceased.

  Alex blinked several times but still was unable to see anything. She lifted her head and felt the sharp sting on her skull at the back of her head. Everything was dark—too dark to see beyond a foot or two in front of her. Her body was cold as ice, and a foul stench of rat urine lay thick in the air. Her body felt heavy. She attempted to move her hair away from her face but found she couldn’t. She tried again realizing her arms were pinned to her sides. Was she lying down on her back? She couldn’t tell. It didn’t feel like she was sitting either. She tried moving her legs and experienced the same pinned down sensation. She looked down, vaguely seeing the floor beneath her feet. There was something against her back, but she couldn’t tell what. She pushed her head back gently and felt a hard column-like surface. Determining it to be a post, she tried wriggling her body free with unsuccessful results. There was no wriggle-room at all.

  “Sam? Are you here?” she called out with a dry mouth, but he didn’t answer.

  “Is anyone here? Hello?”

  Still, no sounds came back, aside from squeaking rats somewhere behind her. Bending her hands backward, she stretched her fingers out until she felt Sam’s cold hands. She tugged one of his fingers.

  “Sam! Wake up. Sam!”

  Sam groaned.

  “Sam, it’s me, wake up. Are you okay?”

  “What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. Can you move?”

  She felt motion behind her as he attempted to move his body.

  “No, what’s happening? Where are we?”

  “I don’t know. We have a post or something between us. I think we’re tied to it.”

  “My head hurts,” Sam reported.

  “Mine too. They must have caught us in the office and hit us with something. I can’t remember much.”

  “Probably have mild concussions.”

  “Can you see anything from where you are?”

  Sam moved his head around and noticed a small window in front of him. “I can see the stars. How romantic?”

  “So there’s a window?”

  “Yep.”

  “Can we climb through it?”

  “You might, but I won’t get more than my head through it. There has to be
a door here somewhere.”

  “It’s too dark. We need to get out of these ropes, I can’t feel my feet anymore,” Alex said through chattering teeth, her fingers still clenched around two of Sam’s.

  “How did they even know we were there? We were so careful with the alarm. Gabriel!” Alex suddenly remembered their hidden mics.

  “Gabriel, do you copy?”

  Neither heard anything, so she repeated it. Still, Gabriel didn’t respond.

  “We might have lost the earpieces, Alex, or we’re beyond range.”

  “What about your suit? Are you still wearing your jacket with the camera?”

  Sam pushed his chin onto his chest. “I am. I can’t see much of anything, but I think all the buttons are still there.”

  “Good, maybe we’re in luck then. Let’s try to pull away from each other. We might be able to stretch or loosen the ropes enough for me to wriggle out from underneath it.”

  Several hours later, after having exhausted themselves in an attempt to free their bodies, they gave up. Alex’s body shivered beyond her control, and Sam had tried everything to keep her from passing out.

  “Stay with me, Alex, we have a wedding to get to, remember?”

  Alex let out a faint moan.

  “It will be morning soon, we can’t sit under the stars forever. Just hang in there, sweetheart.”

  Sam was right. It wasn’t long after that the sun’s light beamed in through the tiny window. Sam had managed to keep Alex awake even though there was more than one occasion he almost fell asleep too.

  “Tell me what you see, Alex? Is there a door?”

  “What good will that do? We can’t get to the door.”

  “You’re not one to quit, Alex. We need to fight our way out of this, just like we have in the past. You’re a Hunt and Hunts don’t stop fighting back. You hear me?”

  Alex lifted her head, turning to take in their surroundings. “I see the door. It’s wood with steel reinforcements diagonally across it.”

  “There’s my girl. What else?”

  “It looks like we’re in a prison cell inside a castle or something. We can’t be underground because you saw the stars and now the sunlight.”

  “Precisely, we’re above ground, that’s good. I see rats, so there has to be a way in somewhere.” Sam dropped his head back and sideways next to the wooden beam that ran up into the roof. It was vaulted resembling that of a small tower. He followed the trusses as far back as his eyes would allow and saw it running in the direction of the door.

  “Can you see where the beams lead to?”

  “Above the door.”

  “That’s our way out, my love. Can you reach anything that might help us break these ropes?”

  Alex turned, searching the wooden post behind her and settled on a rusted nail a few inches above her wrist.

  “I think I found something. There’s a nail, but I can’t reach it.”

  Sam twisted his head to the side and saw it too. His fingers curled around it, enough for him to push it back and forth several times. Grateful that the wood had weakened over the years it wasn’t long before he yanked the nail from the post. He started sawing away at the rope above Alex’s wrist. Slowly the rope gave way, and one by one, the strands broke enough for her to free her hand. She wriggled her body, aided by Sam until she was able to slide out from under the ropes. Her limbs were stiff, impacting her mobility to move quickly. Her near-frozen fingers fumbled clumsily with the knots of Sam’s ropes until he too was freed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As Sam's ropes fell to the floor, chains rattled against the door. Moments later, a key in the lock turned, and the door to their prison cell swung open. Caught off guard, Alex and Sam set eyes on a tall slightly hunched male figure wearing a black executioner's mask. A second, marginally shorter man without a mask, rapidly entered behind him followed by a third, also unmasked. Alex and Sam stared down the barrels of their automatic firearms. Still trying to warm up her stiff limbs, Alex prepared to attack, but she knew this was one fight neither her nor Sam would win in the condition they were in. One of the men grabbed Alex by the arm, pointing the gun firmly to her head while the second unmasked man aimed his weapon at Sam. Without speaking, they ushered the pair toward the door.

  "Where are we going?" Alex asked. Still, no one spoke.

  The gun jammed into her ribcage, and she continued walking down the corridor away from the cell. Behind her, Sam was forced to follow. Absorbing their surroundings, they both realized they were inside a fortress of some sort. When they slowed down, the men poked the guns harder into their backs.

  "Where are you taking us?" Alex tried again. This time the man's hands took hold of her hair, yanking it back hard. Alex reached back in a reflex motion but was shoved hard toward a room leading off from the corridor.

  "Stop, you're hurting her!" Sam yelled, for which he received a hard knock in the nape of his neck before being pushed inside the same small room. The unmasked men blindfolded them and tied their hands behind their backs. Forced into chairs on opposite ends of the narrow room, Alex and Sam heard a male voice in the doorway.

  "I thought I told you not to meddle in my business?"

  Alex instantly recognized his voice. It was the man from her apartment.

  "I don't know what you mean," she chanced.

  "Oh, I think you do, Miss Hunt. You stuck your nose where it didn't belong. You should have followed my advice and stayed out of it. Now I'm forced to take extreme measures."

  The man fell silent for a brief moment before he spoke again.

  "Where's the heart and the letter?"

  Alex felt a sudden coldness hit her core. Dare she pretend not to know what he was talking about? She didn't answer.

  "Miss Hunt, I believe you've been planning a wedding to Dr. Quinn over here. I'm sure you still want that wedding, yes? So I'm going to ask you again, where have you hidden the heart and the letter?"

  Alex's shoulders tightened as her entire body went rigid with fear.

  "I don't have it anymore."

  "That I know, my dear Alex, since I searched your backpack and found my dossier. That only means one thing, you hid the heart somewhere. And since you're not forthcoming, you leave me no choice."

  Alex stiffened, unable to speak. Moments later, Sam's painful cries filled the room.

  "Stop! Leave him alone!" she yelled, unable to see what they were doing to him. Sam's agonizing cries stopped and turned to heavy panting.

  "Leave him alone. I'll give you the heart, but you need to let him go."

  "Now, why would I do that? What if you're lying to me, sending me on a wild goose chase? I need him. So, where is the heart?"

  "It's in d'Andigné's office, under the rug in the floorboards," she said, instantly loathing herself for being forced to give up their only trump card so quickly.

  The men secured both Alex and Sam's feet to the legs of their chairs and weaved the rope through the knots around their wrists. When they were done, she heard the men turn before the door closed and locked behind them. Alex and Sam sat in silence, making sure they had been left alone. She turned her head toward Sam, trying to see from underneath her blindfold.

  "Sam?" She whispered. "Are you okay?”

  "I'll live. They broke my finger."

  Frustrated, Alex pushed her shoulder against her temples in an attempt to remove the blindfold. She managed to move it just enough to see Sam with his head bowed in his chair. They were alone.

  "We need to get out of here, Sam, before they come back. They will have no reason to keep us alive any longer once they have the heart back. Can you get up and place the back of your chair against mine? You need to turn to your left."

  Sam shuffled his chair around mirrored by Alex on hers. She bumped his broken finger by accident, causing him to cringe with pain.

  There was no time for apologies as adrenaline rushed through her veins. Her fingers fumbled with the tight knots around Sam's wrists. The roughness of the ropes c
haffed against her fingertips until she felt the stickiness of fresh blood between her fingers. Desperate for their escape, she was numbed against the pain. One final knot freed Sam's injured hand, sending new spasms of pain through his arm. With his hand untied, using his palm, he pushed his blindfold off his face to restore his sight. Unable to use his broken index finger, he fumbled his way through the knots around his feet while Alex kept going at the knots around his other hand. It took longer than they had hoped for, but their attempt was successful. With Sam mobile, he turned to Alex, pulling her blindfold off first before following through with the rest of her restraints.

  With Alex free and looking for a way out, Sam turned his attention to his injury. He forced the broken bone back into place and, using his blindfold, bound his readjusted digit to his third and fourth fingers. The procedure left him breathless with agony.

  Alex had already concluded that the door was bolted from the outside, which left only the window as their escape point. In contrast to the much smaller one in their first cell, this one was a large arched window with stained glass. She picked up the chair and threw it through the window. With Sam's help, they used the rope and tied it to one of the iron bars that spanned the width of the window frame. It was hard to determine precisely how high they were, but they estimated it only to be only two stories up. At most, the rope would allow for them to reach the small balcony a bit further down. It would have to suffice.

  "You go first," Sam directed.

  It took less than twenty seconds for Alex to rappel down to the balcony below, soon followed by Sam. They'd have to take a chance escaping through the building since the rope was too short to deposit them all the way to the ground. The balcony led off a spacious room with an enormous wooden table and chairs set in the middle of the room. The walls were adorned with several paintings similar to the collection seen in the secret fraternity's office.