The Timekeeper Conspiracy

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The Timekeeper Conspiracy Page 20

by Simon Hawke


  Athos had pulled out his pistols and fired at the first onrush, dropping two of his attackers. He barely had the time to drop his pistols and draw his sword before he found himself beset by three opponents. He dodged a thrown dagger and it embedded itself in a post behind him. However, his ducking the dagger had given his opponents time to hem him in and he stood braced with his back against the post, fending off the three rapiers that darted in at him. He parried one thrust, kicked the man in the groin as he parried yet another, and felt the third blade scrape along his arm. He lunged quickly and killed one man, but that one was immediately replaced by another. Andre had already bulled her way through on horse­back to the outside and Lucas and D'Artagnan were both mounted up and by the door, keeping attackers at bay.

  "I am taken!" Athos shouted. "Go on, D'Artagnan! Spur! Spur!”

  D'Artagnan only paused long enough to hurl his dagger at one of Athos's attackers, seeing it thud home into his back.

  "One for all—" D'Artagnan shouted.

  "Get the devil out of here!" screamed Athos.

  They set spurs to their horses and galloped off after Andre, their number now reduced to four. Planchet, alone, had man­aged to leap into the saddle and gallop out the stable door before their attackers had closed in on them. He was waiting for them further down the road, looking terrified.

  "Coward!" D'Artagnan shouted at him, leaning over in the saddle and flailing at him with his hat. "You should have stayed and fought!"

  "With what, Master?" Planchet cringed, attempting to ward off the blows.'' I don't have a sword!"

  They rode at breakneck speed for St. Omer, beyond which lay Calais.

  "Hawk One, where the hell were you?" Lucas said, furi­ously.

  There was no reply.

  "Hawk One!"

  Silence.

  "Damn you, Hawk One. ..." It suddenly occurred to Lucas why Hawk One was not responding. He simply wasn't there. Cobra had said that he would pull several men off the operation to check his allegations against Mongoose. He had been coldly efficient in making his selection. If what Lucas had said was true, then the Timekeepers would be striking back in Paris and manpower would be needed there. If Lucas had lied, then he had been disarmed of his most effective weapon and, as a traitor, would not require reconnaissance reports. The second floater could very well be overhead and he most likely was. Cobra had said that they would be covered every inch of the way. But Hawk Two was on a different fre­quency and, in any case, until the truth was known, he would not be reporting in to Lucas. Effectively, they were on their own.

  Thus far, everything had happened according to the original scenario. History reported that D'Artagnan and all three musketeers survived the mission, but Andre and Lucas were both extraneous factors. That gave fate a lot of leeway.

  A short distance outside Calais, D'Artagnan's horse col­lapsed. Planchet's animal was all done in as well, so Lucas and Andre each took a passenger and they barely reached Calais, their horses totally exhausted. Dismounting, they made it to the port on foot and sought out the captain of a small skiff, who was already engaged in a discussion with another gentleman. D'Artagnan ran up to them and interrupted, asking if they could set sail at once to England.

  "I say, sir," said the well-dressed gentleman, somewhat taken aback at the Gascon's rudeness, but the captain raised a hand, silencing them both.

  "As I was about to tell this gentleman," the captain told D'Artagnan, "I am able to set sail at once. However, this morning an order arrived stating that no one should be al­lowed to cross without permission from the cardinal."

  "I have that permission," said the well-dressed gentleman, taking out a paper and holding it out.

  "It must be examined by the governor of the port," the cap­tain said.

  "And where shall I find him?"

  "At his country house. You can see it from here, at the foot of that little hill. The slated roof."

  With an arch glance at D'Artagnan, the man departed with his servant, heading toward the house of the governor of the port. D'Artagnan returned, crestfallen, to confer with Andre and Lucas.

  "We are undone," he said. "The cardinal has ordered that no one—"

  "Yes, we heard," said Lucas. "No one can cross without his express permission. So? What is the problem?"

  "But we have no such permission!"

  "True," said Lucas, turning to look after the departing gentleman, "but that man does."

  D'Artagnan followed his gaze and he frowned, then understanding dawned. "Ah, yes! Of course, how stupid of me. We'll simply take it from him." He reached for his sword, but Lucas stayed his hand.

  "Not here," he said. "Follow him. Discreetly, eh? Andre and I will remain here and make sure that no one else tries to book passage."

  D'Artagnan and Planchet followed the gentleman and Andre and Lucas took a little time to get some much-needed rest.

  "What happens now?" said Andre.

  "We wait," said Lucas. "Our orders are to finish out the ride, so that means we'll have to go to England and to Buck­ingham. You heard what Cobra said. If we make one wrong move, we'll be killed."

  "But no one is about," she said. "They could not have known that we departed for Calais in such a hurry, before dawn."

  "They know," said Lucas. "And I'll bet you they're watch­ing us right now. We'll just have to play it by ear, that's all. If Finn still has his comset, Cobra said that he could trace him when he clocked in to Paris. If Finn gives him a chance to ex­plain, then maybe they'll be able to stop Mongoose, if it isn't already too late. That's an awful lot of ifs."

  "What if Mongoose cannot be stopped?" said Andre.

  "I'd rather not even think about it," Lucas said.

  After a short while, D'Artagnan returned with permission to sail, made out in the name of the Count de Wardes. D'Artagnan reported that the count had been unreasonably un­cooperative, so he had left him bleeding on the ground with his hapless servant tied to a nearby tree. De Wardes was still alive when they had left, so just to be on the safe side, the Gascon had given the governor of the port a precise descrip­tion of "D'Artagnan," whom the governor had been ordered to arrest if he arrived in Calais. The description D'Artagnan had given the governor was that of the Count de Wardes. Lucas congratulated him on his initiative and, with their clearance secured, they set sail for England. It was just as well that they had not eaten, for alone of the four, Lucas was the only one who was not seasick. But then, a little trip across the channel was nothing to a man who had sailed under Lord Nelson and served under John Paul Jones.

  They arrived in England at ten o'clock and obtained post-horses for their trip to London. It was at this point that D'Ar­tagnan realized that there were two aspects of the mission's planning that he had entirely overlooked. This knowledge came to him with something of a shock the moment he set foot in England. For one thing, he had no idea how to get to Lon­don, and for another, he didn't speak a word of English. For­tunately for the Gascon, Lucas both spoke English and knew the way to London, so they immediately headed for the resi­dence of Lord Buckingham.

  Upon arriving there, they were told that the duke was at Windsor, hunting with the king. Patrick, the duke's valet, of­fered to conduct them personally when told that they had come upon a mission of life and death, and he quickly had a horse saddled for himself and they were off to Windsor Castle. Once there, they were directed to the marshes, where Buckingham was hawking with the king. When they came within sight of the hunting party, Patrick bade them to wait at a distance while he rode up to the duke and informed him of their arrival.

  "How shall I announce you to His Lordship?" the valet had asked.

  "Tell him it is the young man who sought a quarrel with him one night in the Rue Vaugirard," D'Artagnan said.

  Patrick raised his eyebrows. "A most unusual introduc­tion," he said.

  "I think you will find that it will be sufficient," said D'Ar­tagnan.

  Patrick rode off and, moments later, returned with George V
illiers, the Duke of Buckingham, at his side. He had, of course, instantly remembered D'Artagnan and he was most concerned that some misfortune had befallen the queen. As Buckingham was fluent in French, there was no need for Lucas to act as an interpreter, so he and Andre drew away when they noticed Patrick beckoning to them.

  "Glad you made it, Priest," said Patrick. "Wolverine, TIA."

  Lucas shook his head in amazement. "Boy, when you people infiltrate, you don't kid around, do you?"

  "I've been expecting you," said the agent. "I've heard all about it, of course. I received a message from the safehouse a little while ago. Terrible business."

  "Then Cobra's contacted Delaney?" Lucas said, anxiously. "He's got his proof?"

  "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," the agent said. "Very bad news."

  * * * *

  Using a laser, Cobra burned through the lock upon the door and quietly took his men inside. Finn waited, tensely, in the street.

  From where he stood, Delaney could see the front door, the lighted window where the conspirators were, and the room on the second floor of Moreau's Tavern, where the two TIA agents had taken up their posts. He knew that Cobra thought that he was doing him a favor by placing him in the least dangerous position, but just the same, he would have felt a great deal better if he had gone along with them inside. Still, the raid looked almost foolproof. If Cobra hit them hard and fast, with the element of surprise upon his side, the chances of any of the Timekeepers being able to escape via chronoplate were virtually nil.

  As Finn watched, the window on the second floor of Moreau's Tavern was opened quietly. He saw agent Jaguar peer out, cautiously, then he saw him raise his hand toward the wall of the other building, just across a narrow alley. The agent had some sort of object in his hand, which he seemed to be aiming at the wall. A moment later, Finn heard a faint popping sound and a metallic sounding clink and he realized what the TIA man had done. Aiming at a spot on the wall considerably higher than the shuttered window, he had fired a metal dart attached to a length of nysteel line into the opposite wall. It would enable him to swing across. He saw the agent taking position, crouching in the window frame, his feet on the very edge, his hands holding the nysteel line taut. Any second now, thought Finn. As soon as Cobra gives the word. He held his laser ready.

  Jaguar glanced down at him for a brief moment and nodded, then swayed for an agonizing second and, as Finn watched, horrified, he lost his balance, shouted "Shit!" and swung out into the air.

  "Jesus..." Finn whispered.

  The agent swung across the narrow alley, but instead of jackknifing and hitting the wooden shutter with his feet, he slammed into it full length with a resounding thud, knocking himself out and dropping into the alley.

  The other agent on the second floor of Moreau's Tavern fired into the shuttered window. There was a tremendous racket inside the house. Finn heard shouting and then he heard someone scream. Feeling helpless, he remained rooted to the spot, watching frantically for a sign of any of the terrorists. It was over almost as quickly as it had started. The front door opened and someone shouted, "Don't fire, Delaney!"

  Cobra walked out alone.

  "What the hell happened?" he demanded.

  Finn told him. "I guess Jaguar lost his balance and swung across before you gave the word. He fell down in the alley. Probably knocked himself out."

  "I hope the damn fool broke his neck," said Cobra, sav­agely.

  “Well? Did you get them?''

  Cobra bit his lower lip. "Taylor got away," he said.

  "Oh, that's just dandy," Finn said, grimly. "How did you manage that?"

  Cobra sighed. "Freytag bought him the time. He didn't need much. He must've had the plate set in advance. Freytag took out both my men before I got him."

  "What about Mongoose?" Finn said.

  "He's still alive," said Cobra. "He wants to see you."

  Finn went into the house with Cobra. Mongoose was not a pretty sight. Fortunately for him, he had not been alone with Taylor very long. The Timekeepers had evidently intended to torture him to death. They had tied him to a chair and gagged him, then performed some delicate surgery with a laser. They had started with his face. Finn had to force himself to look at him.

  "We've got to get him medical attention right away," said Cobra, "but when he found out you were here, he wouldn't let us touch him until he saw you."

  Something vaguely resembling a rasping chuckle emerged from the agent's mouth as Mongoose looked at him. "Just wanted you to see this," he rasped. "Thought you might get a kick out of it."

  "This isn't exactly my idea of kicks," said Finn.

  Mongoose nodded, head lolling. "I really screwed it up, didn't I?"

  Finn did not respond.

  "I didn't go over," Mongoose said, emphatically. "I just wanted you to know that. I wanted you to understand. I thought Freytag. . . ." He shook his head. "I wanted him, Delaney. I wanted him all to myself. Just him and me. The best against the best—"

  Finn turned away. He looked at Cobra. "You got anybody at the palace?" he said.

  "Sparrow should be there. But this is only her first field assignment—"

  "I suggest we hotfoot it over there and fast," Delaney said.

  "Delaney—" Mongoose croaked.

  Finn glanced at him briefly. "I haven't got time for you," he said. "Go and get your face fixed."

  * * * *

  Lucas listened to the news grimly. He quickly glanced back at D'Artagnan and Buckingham. Buckingham had read the letter and was engaged in an animated discussion with the Gascon.

  "We haven't got much time," he said. "What happens now? Taylor could be anywhere with that plate."

  "If he's clocked out to another time, we've lost him," the agent said. "But Cobra doesn't think he's given up yet."

  "No, I don't think he would, from what I've heard," said Lucas. "So we just ride it out?"

  The agent nodded. "Watch yourself, for God's sake. I'll look after Buckingham. We—"

  They were interrupted by a shout from Buckingham and they wheeled their horses and galloped off after Villiers and D'Artagnan. They rode at full speed toward London and they did not slack their pace as they entered the city. Buckingham rode like a man possessed, running down several hapless Englishmen who did not get out of his way in time. When they arrived at Buckingham's residence, he sprang from his horse and dashed inside. Planchet stayed with the horses while they ran to keep up with Buckingham.

  They ran through several elegant chambers, following the prime minister, until they came to his bedroom. Inside the bedroom was a tiny alcove and within that alcove, hidden by a tapestry, was a small door. He pulled the tapestry aside and opened the door with a little golden key he wore on a chain around his neck. Inside the door was a tiny chamber il­luminated by candles in small red glasses, giving the room a sacrosanct glow. It was a shrine to Anne of Austria. A full-length portrait of the queen hung beneath a blue velvet canopy and underneath the portrait was an altar, on which rested a small golden casket, intricately worked. Buckingham lunged for this casket and opened it, pulling out a blue ribbon fes­tooned with diamonds—the diamond studs given him by Anne.

  "Thank God," said Buckingham. "They are safe. They are all here."

  Lucas frowned, remembering something.

  "I have only worn them once, at a ball given by the king a week ago at Windsor. The Countess de Winter—"

  "Milady!" Lucas said.

  "Yes," said Buckingham. "She . . . that is to say, I. . . ." He glanced up at the portrait of the queen. "Forgive me, my love."

  "The Countess was here?" said Lucas. "She saw the diamonds?"

  Buckingham nodded. "She was quite taken by them. She told me that she loved diamonds and I let her examine them. When I took them off that night, I put them back into the casket, which I left on the table by my bed. The next morning, I returned it to this chamber, but I did not open it. I later learned she was an agent of the cardinal's. When I read that letter, the fir
st thought that sprang into my mind was that she might have ... during the night. . . . But they are here, intact, all twelve of them, thank God." He put the studs back into the casket and handed it to D'Artagnan. "Here, take it. It was altogether too dangerous a gift."

  Lucas pulled the agent out into the bedroom. "Have you got a plate here?"

  The agent frowned. "Yes, but—"

  "There's no time to lose. Andre and I have got to get back to Paris at once!"

  "But what about D'Artagnan? You must—"

  "Forget about D'Artagnan! According to Dumas, two of the studs were missing, but all twelve of them are there!"

  "I still don't understand. What does that—"

  "If the studs played no part in Taylor's plan, why did he come here? Why did he follow through with the original scenario, even going so far as to seduce Buckingham so that he could examine the studs more closely? According to history, Milady stole two of the studs to give to Richelieu."

  "But all the studs are here," said Wolverine.

  "Precisely," Lucas said. "Buckingham was supposed to have two studs made here, duplicates to make up for the ones Milady stole. Duplicates," said Lucas, squeezing the agent's arm hard.

  "Then if Taylor gave Richelieu two studs . . ." said the agent. His eyes widened. "Good God! Come one!"

  At that moment, D'Artagnan came out of the chamber. Seeing Lucas and Andre running off with Patrick, he called out, "Where are you going?"

  "An urgent matter! An agent of the cardinal!" Lucas shouted over his shoulder, improvising. "Go on, D'Artagnan, ride! We'll see you in Paris!"

  They ran for "Patrick's" chambers, leaving behind them a perplexed D'Artagnan and a repentant Buckingham, kneeling before the portrait of the queen.

  * * * *

  The timing was all wrong, but now there was no choice. Taylor hadn't planned to make his final move for several days yet. There would have been plenty of time to arrange things before D'Artagnan returned with the diamond studs, trailing all of Mongoose's agents behind him.

 

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