Read TW03 The Pimpernel Plot NEW Online
Authors: Simon Hawke
“Tell the grooms to have my horse saddled at once,” she said.
“Your horse, milady? Would not the coach be—”
“Yes, my horse, damn you! Be quick about it!”
With Cobra’s chronoplate, they didn’t have to waste time sailing across the English Channel or riding to Paris. They clocked from Dover, where the agent had set up a temporary safehouse, directly to Calais.
“All right, here’s how it stands right now,” said Cobra. “I’ve got one of my men stationed at Lafitte’s tobacco shop, just in case Mongoose or the boy returns there. There’s been no sign of the boy since we took his brother. What’s more, there’s been no sign of the old man, either.”
“What, the tobacconist?” said Lucas. “Jean’s uncle?” Cobra nodded. “He may be working with Mongoose, as well. Something that you don’t know is that before he became head of field operations, Mongoose was section chief in Paris in this time period. I’m only making a wild guess, but it’s possible that Lafitte might have been one of his indigenous field men.”
Finn threw up his hands. “Jesus, this is getting nuttier all the time!”
“But it makes sense,” said Lucas. “I was wondering how Mongoose was able to dress up as an old woman and make off with Leforte and still have time to get back to the safehouse and meet us as Fitzroy some ten minutes later. I had thought that he might have taken Leforte directly to the safehouse and hidden him from sight after tranquilizing him, but that would still have been cutting it extremely close. In fact, considering everything that he’s been able to accomplish, it would make sense that he was getting help from more than just a 12-year-old boy.”
“Wait a minute,” Finn said. “If Mongoose used to be the section chief here, wouldn’t the man who came in to replace him know the—”
“Allow me to anticipate you,” Cobra said. “No, not necessarily. Remember, we’re still dealing with a practice that is technically illegal. As a result, section chiefs tend to be extremely secretive about such things. Besides, no one would like to inherit somebody else’s field personnel. They’d prefer to pick their own. The old contacts would simply dry up and new ones would be made. Except in this case, it looks like the old contacts have been reestablished. The problem is, I have no idea how many of them there might be.”
“You’re saying that Mongoose has an indefinite number of indigenous personnel dancing to his tune?” said Finn
“I don’t know,” said Cobra, “but it’s entirely possible. Probable, in fact. He likes to have an edge.”
“Terrific,” Finn said. “I’m sure glad you save these little tidbits until they become germane.”
“Delaney, you just don’t seem to understand,” said Cobra in exasperation. “I’m disclosing top-secret information to you here! You guys aren’t supposed to know any of this!”
“What worries me is not what we’re not supposed to know that you’ve already told us,” Finn said, “but what we’re not supposed to know that you haven’t told us yet.”
Lucas looked at him and frowned. “You want to run that by me again?”
“No, I’m not sure I understand what I just said, either,” said Delaney.
“Never mind,” said Cobra. “It doesn’t really matter. There’s nothing I can do about it anyway. I’m way out of line in telling you as much as I have already. You could do a great deal of damage to the agency with what you know now.”
“What about the damage the agency has done?” said Finn.
“In spite of what you may want to believe,” said Cobra, “the agency is the only thing keeping—”
“Let’s not get into this, all right?” said Lucas. “We’ve got enough problems. The question is, what do we do about St. Just, now that he’s been compromised?”
“We get him out,” said Cobra, “and we take the Comte de Tournay on this trip, as well.”
“When did you have time to locate him?” said Finn.
“I didn’t. The local section chief did.”
“How many people does the TIA have back here, anyway?” said Finn.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Where are St. Just and the Comte de Tournay now?” said Lucas.
“At this moment, they should be somewhere between Paris and Cap Gris Nez,” said Cobra. “They’re going by road because by the time they get there, Ffoulkes should arrive in time to receive them. You don’t want them rescued before the Pimpernel could have had time in which to do it, do you? He’s due to arrive in Calais tomorrow, right? By then, the section chief’s people should have them here and if Ffoulkes is surprised at the speed with which you got them out, you can tell him that the Pimpernel’s agents in Paris were in on it. It’ll almost be the truth.”
“So what’s our next move going to be?” said Andre, who had been silently smoking a pipe all through the discussion, having developed a liking for it.
“First of all, is Pierre Lafitte going to be safe alone at Richmond?” said Cobra.
“He’ll be fine,” said Andre. “I’ve got him in the gamekeeper’s cottage.”
“What did you tell the gamekeeper?” Cobra said, surprised.
“The truth,” said Andre.
“The truth?” they all asked, in unison.
“Well, something fairly close to it, anyway,” she said. “I told him that I was having an affair with Andrew Ffoulkes, that Ffoulkes was a member of the League of the Scarlet Pimpernel and that the league had kidnapped the boy because he’s the son of a French spy we wanted to put pressure on. Ffoulkes needed a safe place to keep the boy for a week or so and I thought I could help.”
“And he bought that?” Cobra said, incredulously.
“Why not? Who’d make up a lie like that?”
“Amazing.”
“What’s amazing is that in all the excitement, I actually forgot about that kid,” said Finn.
“Believe it or not, so did I,” said Lucas. “This mission has me going in so many directions at the same time, I can’t even keep track of what’s happening anymore.”
“Well, in that case, you’ll be pleased to know that it’s almost over,” Cobra said. “The Scarlet Pimpernel ended his career after rescuing the Comte de Tournay and St. Just. It was a brief career, but a flamboyant one.”
“You mean that’s it?” said Finn. “It’s over?”
“Not quite,” said Cobra. “This will be your last trip to France, but there’s still the matter of Percy Blakeney to consider. Chances are there’s going to be a relocation and you’ll be relieved, but that can’t happen until the adjustment has been reported as complete and I can’t clock to Plus Time to do that so long as Mongoose is at liberty. You’re just going to have to stay here until he’s found and apprehended.”
“Hold on,” said Finn. “Maybe you can’t clock forward, but any one of the agency people here can.”
“True, but with Mongoose still loose and Darrow’s people hunting him, I’m not in a position to spare anybody. I’m not even completely certain which of the agency people back here I can trust.”
“That’s not my problem,” Finn said.
“You’re wrong,” said Cobra. “It is your problem, because as long as Mongoose is still free, you’re staying right here.”
“The hell you say! Suppose he decides to go underground? I don’t see what else he can do. You might never find him!”
“My job is to stay here until I do,” said Cobra.
“And what about us?”
Cobra shrugged.
Jellyband was slightly disapproving as he served them. He knew who they were and it appeared to him that Lady Marguerite Blakeney and Andrew Ffoulkes were running away together. The fact that they both traveled on horseback and had obviously ridden hard from London to Dover seemed to confirm his suspicions. It wasn’t his place to say or do anything, but he seemed somewhat scandalized.
“I feel so damn helpless!” Marguerite said. “We rode hard all this way and now we can’t cross because of bad weather!”
“Take heart,” said Ffoulkes. “If we can’t cross, then no one else can, either. If Chauvelin left London for Dover only this morning, then he could not have had time to sail yet. No boats have left for Calais since last night. He’s somewhere here, in Dover, waiting for a change in the weather, just as we are. Had I known about this, I would have taken the time to gather some of the others together and we could have taken him here and taught him a lesson. Unfortunately, I know for a fact that Chauvelin has other agents with him and I cannot risk going after him alone. If anything happened to me, you would be unprotected and Percy might not be warned in time.”
“I’ve been an awful fool,” said Marguerite. “I’ve placed my own husband’s life in jeopardy.”
“You could not have known,” said Andrew, kindly.
She shook her head. “He had become so changed, so distant and secretive that I had actually convinced myself that something incredible had happened to Percy and that his place had been taken by some impostor who was his twin!” She laughed, feeling herself to be on the edge of hysteria. “Small wonder he seemed a different man to me! He was living a secret life, not daring to tell me he was the Pimpernel because he knew I had informed upon St. Cyr. Poor Percy! How it must have tortured him!”
“What matters is that now he knows the truth of the St. Cyr affair,” said Ffoulkes. “He doesn’t blame you. No one would. I can’t understand why you didn’t tell him what really happened earlier.”
“How could I? After what he must have heard, it would sound as though I were making feeble excuses. I was afraid that he might not believe me and …no, that isn’t true. I’m lying to myself. It was pride, Andrew, foolish, stubborn, damnable pride! When I realized that he must have heard the stories, I was furious with him for not coming to me at once and asking to hear my side of it. I was too proud to go to him and offer an explanation; I thought that he should come to me. As a result, it has come to this. I have no one but myself to blame.”
“That isn’t true,” said Ffoulkes. “You could not help the fact that Chauvelin’s agents attacked us and stole Armand’s letter to the Pimpernel. Nor could you help giving aid to Chauvelin when your brother’s life hung in the balance. Have faith, we shall reach Percy in time. Chauvelin will not be certain where to look for him, while we know where he can be found.”
“That may be,” said Marguerite, “but there is still the matter of the Comte de Tournay and my brother.”
“If I know Percy,” Andrew Ffoulkes said, “he will see the matter through and rescue both of them.”
“That is exactly what I mean,” said Marguerite. “That will be dangerous enough, but now that Chauvelin is on his trail, how can he possibly hope to succeed?”
Ffoulkes smiled. “Don’t forget one thing,” he said. “In Percy’s own words, that Pimpernel is ‘demmed elusive.’ “
“You promised!” said the old man, angrily. “You promised that we would be safe, that there would be no reprisals!”
“In this world, no one is ever safe, Lafitte,” said Mongoose.
They were in a small house on the outskirts of Calais which Mongoose had purchased in his days as section chief of 18th-century France. Along with several other properties he owned spread out across the globe and throughout time, it was one of the places he used to get away from it all when he was given leave. It was one of several places where Lafitte knew he could find him or leave word for him in the unusual event that their regular procedure had to be abandoned and
Lafitte had to get in touch with him, rather than the other way around. It was a simple house, with a slate roof and planked flooring that showed signs of age. It was sparsely yet comfortably furnished and, in the absence of its owner, it was kept up by an old woman whose husband had been lost at sea ten years ago. She was reliable and fiercely loyal, as were all of Mongoose’s indigenous employees, for he paid them very well and saw to it that their needs were taken care of in his absence.
There was nothing about the house to set it apart from any other in Calais, save for the fact that it had one room in the cellar that was impregnable. It contained a number of items not native to that time; among them a chronoplate, which Mongoose kept for emergencies.
“They have Pierre!” said the old man.
“I know,” said Mongoose, whom the old man knew only as Monsieur l’Avenir. “I told you, there is no cause for concern.
They will not harm him.”
“How can you know?”
“I give you my word that Pierre will not be harmed in any way. Have I ever let you down before, Lafitte?”
“No, Monsieur l’Avenir, but—”
“Then trust me. There is only one reason why they took Pierre and that is so they will have a hold on you. They do not want you or Jean helping me.”
“Then there is nothing you can do?” the old man said, crestfallen.
“For the moment, nothing. But only for the moment. However, rest assured that I will restore Pierre to you. I am certain that I know where he is. They will not harm him. They only mean to frighten you.”
The old man shook his head, miserably. “It is all my fault. I should never have allowed you to bring Jean into this. He is just a child.”
“But a remarkable child, you will admit,” said Mongoose. “He is most resourceful. Already, at twelve, he is an accomplished liar, a gifted thief, an excellent marksman, and he is utterly without scruples. He has a brilliant future ahead of him.”
“You have perverted him,” Lafitte said, glumly.
“No. I have only helped him to discover himself. You are an old man, Lafitte. Face it, my friend, you are not long for this earth. You should be grateful to me for having helped Jean discover the innate abilities that he possessed. When it is time for you to die, you can do so knowing that the boys will not go hungry or uncared for. They will be quite able to fend for themselves.”
“I have served you faithfully, Monsieur l’Avenir,” said Lafitte.
“Even though I do not understand these secret dealings of yours, I have done everything you asked me to do without question. If you can assure me of their safety, I shall do anything you ask, even give up my life, what little of it there is left to me.”
Mongoose smiled. “I can assure you not only of their safety, but of their prosperity,” he said. “They will both become very famous men. Jean, especially, will make his mark upon the world.”
“Where is Jean? I had hoped he was with you, but—”
“Jean was with me,” said Mongoose. “He does not know about Pierre and it is very important that you do not tell him should you see him. He will not be able to think clearly if he is concerned about his brother. At this moment, he is performing a service for me. I also have work for you to do, as well.”