by JB Sanders
Glen held him closer, and put his face next to Tyler's. "No, silly. I'd never actually work out your surprise ahead of time and spoil everything."
Tyler sighed and leaned more into Glen.
Glen continued, "But if you pull any more of this secret stuff and act like a lunatic around me to the point where you're sliding across home base on the carpeting, I will do my best to embarrass you in public."
Tyler pulled back a little to look up at Glen's face. He smirked, though it was a little faded from his usual heart-piercing grin. "Me? What could you do to embarrass me? As you've pointed out before, I don't embarrass."
"I will dress in skin-tight jeans, a tight t-shirt and those fake glasses we played with in London." Glen smiled in a way that he usually used right before they had sex. "And I'll take every opportunity to rub against you, bend over to pick things up and ... stretch."
Tyler swallowed. He blushed and couldn't speak for a moment. Glen could tell -- in other areas of Tyler's anatomy that were very close to Glen at the moment -- that he was excited.
"You, you wouldn't!" Tyler's voice broke half-way through his statement.
"You know I would. Remember that benefit party in New York where you left me alone with that gossip columnist for an hour?"
Tyler winced. "I'm still really sorry about that. And about the way you made me blush in front of her afterwards."
"I know you are. But this thing is making you crazy and it's wearing you down. Crazy I can handle, but I won't have you screwing yourself up just to make me happy. You can't have both."
"It's been more trouble than I thought, and I thought it would be a lot of trouble." Tyler sighed.
"But you swear it'll be worth it?"
Tyler looked up at Glen, his face as sincere and as vulnerable as Glen could ever remember him being. "Yes. I swear."
Glen hugged Tyler tight. One, because he needed it. Two, because whatever it was Tyler was working on, it was obvious to Glen that the thing was Earth-shaking.
Glen whispered into Tyler's ear. "Then don't worry about me at all. I have your back. Always. Forget what I said, just do it."
Then Tyler kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
White Knuckles
Saturday afternoon
The Palace of Versailles was just as stunning as the postcards made it seem. Everything inside the palace seemed to be covered in mirrors, gilt or exquisite murals depicting mostly-naked gods and goddesses. Everything outside the palace was clean, neat and it looked like the gardeners used tweezers on the hedges.
It was also crowded elbow-to-elbow with tourists.
"Well, this is going to be fun. Do you have any idea where it is?" Tyler looked around.
"Yeah, but you wanted me to go slow in finding it, right?" Glen gave Tyler's hand a squeeze.
"Yup." Tyler didn't point, but they'd made the guys following them when they parked the car. "We need to -- you know."
"Yeah, I know. Ok, so it should be down this path near the Colonnade area."
They strolled. They got looks from some of the tourists -- though whether it was because of two men holding hands, or the formation of bulky line-backer types around them, wasn't entirely clear. Glen and Tyler had gotten to the point in their marriage where they didn't notice things like that anymore. Glen hoped it wasn't because they were turning in to ultra-rich assholes.
The crunch of gravel brought them to an area of Greek-style statues and fountains. They paused at each of the statues to give them a look, though Glen already knew where they were heading. It was a statue of Persephone.
"Ready?" Tyler spoke low.
"Yeah, you?" Glen had palmed his smart phone, and readied the camera app surreptitiously.
"Hang on. Jacques?"
"Oui, here is your can." Jacques passed Tyler a spray can of something.
"James?"
"They're about fifty feet behind us now. You'll have, at most, six or seven seconds." James didn't look behind them, or even tilt his sunglasses at a funny angle. Glen guessed that there were more of their security guys wandering around the Palace gardens than were standing next to them.
"Excellent. Go for Operation Piss Off."
Glen snorted. As a group they turned their leisurely stroll into a fast jog, over greenswards and flowerbeds, through knots of tourists, and right for Persephone. They got there, Glen located the plaque and snapped a picture of it. He gave the nod to Tyler, who immediately began spraying some kind of foam over the plaque's bronze surface. It looked like thick, vomit green silly string.
Behind them there were curses and exclamations. Several bald men were running in their direction, not caring who they pushed down to get to them.
"Good?" James said without looking.
"Yeah, that should do it." Tyler stood up and recapped the can.
James nodded and then took off running, flat-out, towards the parking lot. Everyone else in their group tried to keep up with him.
It was a damn good thing that the crew usually did a 3-mile jog in the morning, when they weren't on "assignment". They fairly easily out-paced the chain-smoking skinheads, hopped into the SUV and tore out.
Unfortunately, the skinheads had phones and friends with cars in the parking lot. Two vehicles followed them at high speed.
"What did we get?" Tyler asked Glen.
Glen looked at his phone, went into the picture library and zoomed in on the plaque. "Ok, looks like a quote from the Aeneid and some kind of map reference."
"What's the quote?"
"Um, translated from the Latin, it's 'O' you brave and best hail, sitting as attendant Beside's Hades bride Persephone!'" Glen pursed his lips in concentration, and then grabbed the oh-shit strap as they rounded a corner at speed. "I think I've got an idea about where we're going."
"Oh good. It's always better in a chase scene to be going somewhere." Tyler smirked sarcastically.
Behind them, the back window of the SUV spider-webbed with a loud "ksssh" sound.
"Down!" James said from the shotgun seat.
Glen and Tyler immediately got down onto the floor. Gone were the days when they argued with their security. The bullet stuck in the bulletproof window was also a pretty convincing incentive.
Glen brought the phone up to his face and kept thinking. "Ok, we're going to the Catacombs, section 5, block 15."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, they've put this quote on the plaque about Persephone and included paragraph and line references like it's from the Aeneid, but it's actually from Euripides."
"And you know that off the top of your head because...?" Tyler raised an enquiring eyebrow, his expression slightly ruined when he was plastered up against Glen during a hasty breaking maneuver.
"I paid attention in my Classics class?"
"Ok, Miss Manners, I'll retort that I was a freshman and had only just discovered the Xbox."
"That's fair. Besides you had to cram for forty-eight hours to pass the class, so you paid for it."
"Ugh, don't remind me. The very thought of Red Bull still makes me want to hurl."
The next few moments passed in a symphony of squealing tires, bouncing bullets, and a lot of honking horns.
"You know, nothing makes you appreciate home quite so much as going to some strange place and having people shoot at you." Glen gripped Tyler tighter and squirmed a little to get into a better position on the SUV's floor.
Tyler was amused. "I like: nothing in life is so exhilarating as to be shot at without result."
"Really? Churchill?" Glen paused for a moment to sigh. "I just wish we were home."
"Oh?" Tyler asked, as if they were having this conversation at a café over afternoon coffee, and not in the middle of a car chase and a fire fight. "And where is home for you, exactly?"
Glen opened his mouth and then closed it as the thought hit him that he didn't really know. "With you?"
"Well, yes, that's a nice sentiment, and back at you, but where? The castle in Scotland?"
Glen considered as the car shuddered around another turn. "No. I like it there, but it's not home."
"The island estate?"
"Nah, that's your childhood home--"
"--Not that I remember it all that well. The boarding school was more my home than that place." Tyler shifted his foot so it didn't press on Glen's so much.
"So that's out. We only spent a few months at the place in New York city."
"Yeah, it was nice, but a little too big for just the two of us."
"That place was too big for the two of us and our twenty-person security force." Glen thoughtfully sighed next to Tyler's ear. Glen could feel Tyler's shiver from nearly blowing in his ear -- which was one of Tyler's Total Turn-On's. Glen hugged Tyler a little tighter, and it hit him. "You know what? It's that crappy little apartment in Saratoga."
"That's home?" Tyler sounded like Glen had just suggested they put their hands out the windows and catch bullets.
"Well, most of my best memories are from there, and I really love the town."
"Yeah, ok, true. It's a fun place to live and all, but what about Buffalo?"
"Oh sure, I grew up there, and my parents' place will always be a kind of home, but it won't ever be our home."
The car scraped against something loud and metallic, and then there was another fusillade of gun fire.
Tyler laughed. "You know, this would be seriously mushy and romantic if it wasn't for the guys shooting at us and the car chase."
"Ha! Yeah."
"So, I know you're going to want to go, uh, home after this escapade is over, but can we do one little thing before that?" Tyler sounded concerned.
"Sure. Side-trip?"
"Um, sort of. I already had the guys take the Black Douglas out to the Bahamas in anticipation that we'd want to get away from it all for a little while."
"Well, if you have your heart set on it, I suppose we could cruise the Caribbean in a sailing ship for a month or two. Ugh. But we're going home right after that." Glen sounded mockingly firm.
Tyler laughed. "Deal."
Distantly and outside the vehicle, there was a loud metallic crashing sound. Car horns sounded.
Their SUV picked up speed and rounded a corner nearly on two wheels, which was something, considering how much extra weight the bullet-proof armor added.
"Ok, we're clear." James brought a walkie-talkie to his lips, and pressed the talk button twice without talking.
Glen and Tyler sat up.
"You sure we lost them?" Tyler asked. Glen wasn't sure why he stressed that one word.
"Yes, sir, we should be clear."
"Great, head to the catacombs. Let's bag this treasure."
Chapter Twenty-Four
Catacombs, They're Not Just for Burials
Saturday afternoon
They pulled up next to a small concrete building with a small metal door. It had numerous electrical warning signs on it.
"This is the entrance?" Glen asked.
"Yeah, well, it's one of them. It's the closest to the map reference you mentioned. Hopefully they haven't been updated or renamed since the 40's." Tyler motioned at the door.
James stepped up, pulled a very illegal device out of his jacket and administered it to the door. In a moment, it was unlocked. James opened it, and motioned Jacques and Kevin inside.
After the all-clear, Glen and Tyler joined them.
As they descended the small circular metal staircase inside, Tyler handed Glen two tiny little doodads. They looked like earpieces, the kind you used when operating loud machinery. Tyler motioned for Glen to put them in his ears. They fit perfectly, and were kind of weird. Glen could still hear, but it was like the lower sounds were just cut away. Everything sounded a little higher-pitched as a result.
Tyler whispered to Glen: "Later, when things go down, hit the floor."
Glen whispered back. "That sounds like something we should come up with a code word for, or a code phrase. Or even a hand signal."
Tyler eyed him. "I know you're serious, because this is not the time for humor."
"Oh, no, certainly not." Glen half-smiled. "Maybe 'right-hand red'?"
Tyler blushed in the near-darkness, though Glen could see the redness because he was practically on top of Tyler. "That's...not fair. We're in the middle of a thing, here."
"Just reminding you of priorities." Glen smirked.
They stayed quiet once they reached the bottom of the stairs.
Kevin found a switch with his flashlight and threw it. Lights came on in the small room, and along all the passageways out. There were more than a few of those. James referred to his phone. He pointed to one of the smaller passages.
There was a hunched walk, at least for everyone but Tyler, and then another small door with electrical warning signs. Only this one had an older sign underneath, something from an earlier era. It said, in French, "Catacombs, Entry Prohibited".
"Oh yeah, that's it." Tyler pointed at the door, and James applied his very illegal device to it. The door yielded, and they opened it.
The smell was ... odd. In the electrical access tunnels, there was a little damp, some mustiness, and the smell old concrete makes. Here, in this section of the catacombs, the smell reminded Glen strongly of a cathedral -- old stone, dust and somehow -- though he couldn't give a reason for it -- death. He was pretty sure the feeling that he smelled death was superimposed upon his nose by the bones.
Skulls were piled everywhere in the low-ceilinged, dirt-floored room. It was as if some nameless monster had separated the bones of its victims, an OCD monster with a need to separate things into categories, and they had stepped out of the regular, sane world into the Skull Room.
Even the lights seemed dimmer here.
"Well, shit," Tyler breathed out.
"Reminds me of St Andrews."
Tyler gave him a disbelieving look, and shook his head. "Medievalists. Never happy unless there's a dank tunnel and some skulls."
Glen threw him a grin, putting up a hand. "Guilty."
There was a creak behind them, the entry door opened wider and two men pushed in with guns trained on them. One was Theo, the skinhead. There were more men and more guns and more baldness behind him.
"No sudden moves, yes? Very slow, put the guns on the floor."
Glen wondered how it was that they came up behind them so quietly. People sneaking up behind them wasn't something James' guys usually let happen.
Their security guards took great care in extracting their guns and putting them on the floor.
"Now, stand over there." Theo pointed at the wall of skulls.
Everyone moved slowly to comply. All of their guys had grim expressions. Tyler looked -- Tyler looked annoyed. But Glen was pretty certain it was a mask. There was something in his eyes that made Glen think that maybe Tyler wasn't annoyed -- he was excited.
"Oh look, it's Baldy." Tyler worked contempt and irritation into every word.
"Watch your tone, Conrad, or I'll cut out your tongue." Baldy said acidly.
"How'd you find us?" Tyler sounded annoyed and confused, two things he almost certainly wasn't.
"Stupid American, I -- how you say -- 'low-jacked' you." Theo radiated contempt and smugness. Not an attractive combination, in Glen's opinion.
Tyler pursed his lips and looked angry. "We haven't found the treasure yet."
Baldy smiled. "Well then, hurry up."
Glen looked around the room, and played his light on a sign over a small open archway to their left. "That way. We're not in the right section yet."
Baldy motioned with his gun, and they all moved slowly into the next section.
This room lacked the single-mindedness of the Skull Room, but made up for it in decorative arts. Skulls, femurs and many other human bones were arranged in floral patterns, like a mural of a bone garden. Some of the skulls, particularly ones in the middle of "arrangements" seemed to have tiny metal plaques affixed to them. Glen read the first one, and then quickly moved to the next. They were al
l dates, most of them from the 19th century.
"I am losing patience," Theo declared.
"Oh, I think we're on track." Tyler smiled in that 'fuck you' smile that only he could conjure. "Glen just needs a few minutes to figure it out."
Baldy waved a hurry-up gesture with his gun.
Glen stopped at the skull, looking at the inscription and trying to work out why the date was important. There was something...oh. Glen rubbed his eyes and looked again.
"Got it?" Tyler asked, next to him.
Glen pointed at the brass plate and then at Tyler, who frowned, tilted his head and pondered. Then Tyler smiled.
The year was off, the 9 and the 8 transposed, but otherwise the date was Tyler's birthday.
Tyler turned around on his heel, a little fast, which caused the skinheads to twitch a little.
"Ok, I think we got it, because--"
"No delays, Conrad. Take us to the gold. Now."
"--Because you know what this trip was lacking?" Tyler asked, as if Baldy hadn't spoken.
"Get on with it, Conrad."
"Secret doors." Tyler said, and pulled on a shin bone.
The wall of skulls and femurs and shin bones parted in the middle, like a puzzle unhinging itself: notch pieces that way, cleft pieces that way. The bones had been affixed to a thin stone wall that ran out on nearly-silent small wheels. Behind it was a vast metal door, exactly like an old-fashioned safe door -- if you owned a large bank. To one side of the door where three combination tumblers. In the middle was a large spoked wheel.
"Open it," Theo demanded.
Tyler nodded seriously, walked over and expertly twirled the tumblers. After a few seconds of fiddling, there was a loud clank sound. Tyler gestured at the big wheel.
Theo stepped forward, tossed a sneer in Tyler's direction and spun the wheel. It turned easily and after a few revolutions, with more clanking sounds, the door swung open slightly. Theo pulled it the rest of the way, motioning Tyler back. Two of Theo's men shown powerful electric lanterns into the opening.
Beyond lay numerous wooden crates of various sizes, some obviously holding paintings, others probably held statues, but most were like anonymous square crates straight out of the end scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark. They extended as far back into the revealed tunnel as the light could reach. Dust swirled out of the opening and around their feet.