(At a Jeweler’s shop in Paris)
“Let me tell you, young lady, business has been very slow these last few days. I have had a very hard time getting clients in.”
“Well,” the cougar femme smiled, “I can remedy that. I need to commission a ring.”
The man behind the counter smiled. “What ring would you like?”
“It will be a custom, in this design.” The cougar female pulled out a sheet of paper, and showed him her design. The ring was gold, with a diamond surrounded by four gems, each of a different color. The four gems-sapphire, emerald, ruby, and amethyst-all surrounded the diamond at the corners.
“That is quite an expensive design, mademoiselle.”
“Money is no object.”
“Who do I make the order to?”
“Madame Genevieve Elderon. My husband, Gerard Elderon will be here shortly. Make sure his ring is an exact match to my own.”
“Newlyweds?”
“We eloped recently, and wanted to get ourselves something somewhat better than a pair of simple rings. Just inform us as soon as the rings are ready.”
“Of course. It is a good design. I look forward to making it for you and your husband.”
“Merci beaucoup, monsieur. You are the only one who would take this request.”
“Then I shall start tout suite! I will see you soon.”
Mrs. Elderon (actually Josephine Miranda Jules) then walked out. Twenty minutes later, a young snow leopard female walked in. “Ummm, bonjour?”
“Bonjour, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes there is, actually. I’d like a custom ring made. I have a design in mind. I’d need a diamond in the middle, and four gemstones surrounding it.” The jeweler paused for a moment. “What will be the gems, mademoiselle?”
“Diamond in the center, surrounded at the corners by a sapphire, emerald, ruby, and amethyst. Can you do that?” The jeweler paused in disbelief. La femme doesn’t look like un homme. Maybe she wanted to keep that a secret. “I can start at once, mademoiselle…?”
“Samantha. Samantha L’Renne.”
“Tres bien, Mademoiselle L’Renne. I shall have your ring ready in two days.” The jeweler replied.
Once out of the store, Samantha turned on her cell phone, and made a phone call. “Mikera, it is Sam. The operation about to begin?”
“Yeah, Jo and Drake are getting prepped now. You need to take your position. I am already parked out front. You will see Drake’s car out there. The one he retrieved from the garage. He and I have been working on it together as a special project when he hasn’t been training.”
“I thought he was looking tired. I thought it was because you were working him over in a ‘special’ way.” Sam smirked to herself as she swore that she could hear the Cheshire-Calico on the other line blushing. “I AM NOT! Look, can we focus on the task at hand, please? They need you to cover them in case it all hits the fan. This guy is bad news, if he is with the Bloodies.”
“Understood. You need shop set up in one hour. And Sam? Try not to get lost this time.”
“OH SHUT UP, MIKERA! That only happened once!”
“Uh-huh, sure, Sam. What about that time in New York?”
“I thought I told you never to mention that again.”
“Just saying, Sam, it is not the first time.”
“End of discussion, Mikera! Now, is there anything you want to ask?”
“Now that you mention it, I am looking for a good jeweler. Drake and Jo mentioned that they were getting rings made.” Samantha grinned. “I know just the one.”
~~~~~
(Meanwhile, at the jeweler’s shop)
The jeweler saw the young man walk in as he finished the first ring. “Bonjour, monsieur, how may I help you?”
“Je m’appelle Gerard Elderon. My wife told me you were making our rings. I wanted to see how you were doing.” The jeweler gulped. This is most unexpected. A fluke, peut-etre? The man, a young blue fox in a white tuxedo, continued. “It is important we get zis as quickly as possible.”
“Oui, monsieur. I will have it for you tout suite. The design is an emerald, sapphire, ruby, and amethyst surrounding a diamond on a golden ring, n’est-ce pas?”
“Oui, that is ze one.”
“It shall be ready soon. I will contact you then.”
Just as “Gerard (Drake)” left, the phone rang.
“Bonjour. My name is Mikera D’Williams, and I would like to commission a ring.”
“What would this ring be?”
“Diamond in the center, and-”
“Emerald, ruby, sapphire, and amethyst surrounding it?”
“Exactly! You have made a design like that before? Can you have the ring ready soon?”
“Oui. I shall have it ready as soon as possible.” After hanging up, the jeweler stood there in stunned disbelief. Mon dieu, when I wanted business to pick up, this is NOT what I had in mind! I don’t need any more surprises after THAT!
~~~~~
(Backstage, as others are packing up after the show)
Evangeline LaGuerre woke up when she felt a bright light shined upon her. “W-what the…?”
“Are you awake, Eva?”
“I-I am…ohh, my head. Cut the light will you?”
Regina looked over Eva, and then yelled, “YOU DESTROYED SOME OUTFITS OF MINE!” Evangeline whimpered when Regina screamed, and tried to cover her ears. “Not so loud, damnit. My head is killing me…”
Regina stood, as though in thought, and then continued. “GEE, I BET THIS MAKES IT TEN TIMES WORSE!” Eva put her head under her pillow and whimpered. “Kill me please.”
Regina smirked at that remark, and grinned. I have been waiting for this moment. “You will wish I did when you realize what you are wearing. Get up and see for yourself.” Evangeline got up, bleary-eyed, and wobbled towards the mirror in the room, not seeing Regina put on earplugs.
~~~~
(Down the hall)
Melissa was just getting changed back into her normal street clothes. A tight pair of jeans with tears in several places, a button-up shirt cut off at the middle, and a comfortable pair of sneakers, and stretched out. Another show done. And one with a lot of surprises at that.
Just then, an ear-piercing scream came from down the hall. Melissa jumped, winced in pain at the sound, then ran to the changing room that Regina had converted into an impromptu recovery room for Evangeline. Evangeline was still in the pink dress she had modeled while she was drunk.
“YOU BITCH!! WHY THE HELL AM I IN PINK?! Ow…owowow…fuck…ow…” Evangeline cringed, going to one knee. Melissa walked in, seeing the scene. “Is Regina still recovering from her hangover?” Regina grinned at her voice. “Yes, yes she is, Melissa.”
“I bet you both think…urgh…that this is hilarious, don’t you?” Regina and Melissa looked at each other, and replied, “YOU BET!” Eva whimpered in pain as she doubled over again. “Will you both…please stop that?”
“WHY SHOULD WE?” Melissa replied with a grin, before Regina nudged her gently. “Okay, Mel. Fun time is over. Go get Eva here the blackest coffee you can get, preferably so black, it absorbs the light around it. She and I need to have a talk.” Melissa nodded. “Try not to kill her, okay?”
“Of course I won’t. She doesn’t get off that easily. I am the Seamstress from Hell, Melissa. I have other ways to make her atone for what she did. Now, get going.” As soon as Melissa was out of earshot, Regina got down to business. “The dress you are wearing? I had you model it on the runway. In fact, let’s watch the footage now, shall we?“
Regina turned on the DVD player, and watched in amusement as Evangeline reacted with horror. “By the way, that was shot as it was happening. You don’t ruin clothes meant for the show without drawing my ire.” Evangeline watched, stunned. “Y-you…”
“Don’t give me that. The clothes you ruined cost more than the car you drive.”
“QUOI?! But…but HOW?!”
“You’d be amazed at what people will pay for quality, both in fabric and in workmanship. Now, Evangeline, I realize it is not all your fault. Melissa did bring you here after all.”
“I think I can pay it back, if you need me to.”
“No. Again, I am not letting you off that easy. Your brother’s money was no good here, and yours won’t be either. Tell you what, you can work it off. You will start like everyone else, by cleaning up after shows, helping myself and other seamstresses with whatever we ask, including trying on men’s wear, which we do request from time to time.”
“I have a vineyard to run. I can’t play janitor for you. Can I not just pay it and be on my way?”
Regina sighed and wrote down the cost for the tuxedos. “You ruined two tuxedos meant for the runway. Honor demands I warn you. This is the exact cost of the tuxedos. You might change your mind after this.”
Evangeline looked over the prices. “…This many zeroes?”
“That was for nearly ruining the show. I am still sore over that, even if I don’t look it. Now, what is this business you run?”
“Eh bien, I run a vineyard not far from Nice. It is a winemaking business. Look, as much as I’d like to work for you, not that I ever would, I have to run that vineyard.” Regina saw Melissa come in with the pot of coffee. “Melissa, pour her a cup of coffee, and make it black. I mean so black, that it absorbs the light around it. And then tell her what we found out from her employees.”
“Sure thing, Regina.” Melissa pulled out a mug from a cabinet and began to pour the coffee. When she got back, she explained, “Now, we were able to find the phone number on a business card in your purse. So we took the liberty of calling your employees and asking about you. Now, what they told me was VERY interesting. They told us that they were making a profit in SPITE of you, not because of you. Your brother had to make a lot of the decisions and show them how to run things so you wouldn‘t fuck them up. They are tired of you drinking away the merchandise, and were quite thrilled when I offered to predispose you for a while. Consider this an intervention.”
“I don’t have a problem!”
Regina sighed. “Now see, when you won’t acknowledge the problem, it only makes you look worse. Melissa, roll that beautiful footage again.” Melissa picked up a remote and hit play. Evangeline watched in stunned horror as she saw herself once more, stumbling around drunk in her outfit, to the cheers and catcalls of the audience. Regina then turned to Evangeline with a serious look on her face.
Regina just calmly drank from her mug, ignoring the murderous look on Evangeline‘s face. “Honey, we had the cops breathalyze you after that nifty little dance number, which we took the liberty of calling ‘the pink fox shuffle‘. I hear it is already starting to pick up steam nicely in Paris. On a more serious note, your BAC was .21. That is not good. And if the vineyard is so important, why are you here, and why were you looking for Drake?” Eva glared at her angrily, forgetting her headache. “Because he ran away from home. I just want to make sure he doesn’t become some monster like his father.”
Melissa paused. “What kind of monster?”
“Haven‘t you heard of Jean-Michael LaGuerre? The one they call the ‘French answer to John Dillinger?‘ The crime lord?”
Regina smirked as she replied, “I have, and while I see the physical resemblance, I didn’t see the mental one. And no, I don’t see Drake becoming some evil monster. He was a perfect gentleman while he was here. He was not happy to see you, though. And you being the overbearing bitch I am seeing now, I can understand why.” Evangeline growled, “Why did you let him leave with those floozies?! How do you know they won‘t do anything to him?!”
Regina stood back up, glaring into Evangeline‘s eyes. “Because it is clear to me that they adored him, and protect him as one of their own. That boy is perfectly capable of deciding his own fate. But enough of that.“ Her face became dour. “In case you haven’t noticed, you aren’t in any position to negotiate. Considering I can still smell the booze on you, not to mention taste it, you aren’t one to talk. Get cleaned up, and no alcohol for you. Not that it matters, I don’t allow any alcohol on the premises.”
“OH COME ON!”
“Do you want me to keep dressing you up in embarrassing outfits to model before an audience from around the world? Because I plan to, every time you get drunk. I can be very inventive with the right motivation.”
“…you bitch. I am going to get you for this.”
“I look forward to seeing you try, Eva. Let‘s go, Melissa.” As soon as they were out of earshot, Melissa asked, “Aren’t you being a little cruel?” Regina smiled at that, and replied, “Not in the least. If I were cruel, I’d have raised my voice more and made her cough up the funds right then and there.”
“I was there when you made those tuxes. I helped model them. They didn‘t cost that much.”
“What she doesn‘t know won‘t hurt me. By the by, did you notice something about Eva just now, Mel?”
“You mean aside from her being totally pissed with us?”
“No no, Melissa. She was less angry about Drake being here, and more angry that he was in the company of three women. I have a feeling she knows about Vera, Esmerelda, and Celestia. I will have to warn Jean about her, and keep an eye on her. She is going to get someone killed if she persists, and it may well be Drake. As for you, Melissa, since you brought her in-”
Melissa‘s ears pinned back, a look of desperation in her eyes, “Please, no.”
“You get to baby-sit her. You brought the lush into my studio, so she is your responsibility.”
“Regina! She is an adult, not a child.”
Regina snapped back, “And she can stop being treated like a child when she stops acting like one. We’ll both have to make sure she doesn’t wreck anything else. It is either that, or I make YOU liable for all the damage she did.” Melissa gulped, and gave a defeated sigh. “I will take the babysitting job for 500, Regina.”
Regina nodded in approval. “Thank you, Melissa. Sorry about this, but I can’t just give her free reign. I have to design new outfits for some new clientele we’re having in. I don‘t have time to keep an eye on her.”
“New clientele? You mean the new members of TFM?”
“The same.“
“Any idea who they are?“
Regina wanted to tell Melissa, but thought better of it. It won‘t do to let her know Tim is coming over. “Sorry, Mel, that woman didn’t give me exact names.”
“That is not like her at all. I mean, it is nice if we know who we’re making clothes for.”
“Did you know we’d be making clothes for Drake?”
“Well, no I didn‘t.”
“I didn‘t either. Look at it this way, that woman pays us a mint for all the trouble, so when she says ‘jump,’ I have to ask ‘how high?’. This isn‘t the end of it. We‘ll want to reserve future materials for new clothing for the lot.” As Melissa walked away and out of earshot, Regina let out a sigh of relief. Swiftsea, Dee, Alice, you three owe me BIG for this.
~~~~
(At an open field outside of Paris)
Drake pulled over at the spot Josephine requested. “Josephine, what is this about?” Josephine smiled at him. “Drake, we need to get into character.” She pulled out a real estate book. “This is a listing of real estate in and around Paris. We need to solidify our story and what estate we’re lookin’ to buy before we go. Who knows? They might decide to base us somewhere in this area. Also, I need to ask you something.”
“If it is about my willingness to be involved, I am in.”
“No, tis nae’ it. I have no doubt about your resolve. I am more concerned about what was in the folder. Someone was in that locker room. I saw her leave. I doubt she was a love interest or she would have stayed longer. Besides, she looked too old fer ya.”
“…she is connected to mon pere. She did give me a name. Vera La Fiero. She said she wanted me to know about mon pere, and that we would meet again eventually. Zey said we have a common enemy.”
“Yer father?”
“His name was Jean-Michael…I am going to see what is in zis.” Drake opened it, and saw a DVD, several papers and pictures, and a velvet box. Inside was a signet ring, with a lion and falcon on a golden shield background, and on the top, the words “Pour mon fis.” “What is that, Drake?”
“My family‘s crest. This is mon pere‘s ring. Une moment…non, ce n‘est pas. C‘est trop nouveau. But it is in my size. How did he-?” Josephine looked at the time. “Damn it. We need to go, Drake. Sorry, but Regina kept us later than expected. Now, which house should we show him we‘re looking at?”
Drake looked at it, and pointed to a particular one, a three-story country cottage with 10 acres of surrounding land near Sartory, France. “Zis one. Wine-making is a big investment, ma cherie. We will want to start small since it will take at least three months for a proper beer or a year for the first vintage of wine to mature properly, and if things go bad, it is easier to sell only 10 acres, than it is the hundreds that would be necessary for a large business. That, and the cottage should be big enough for six people. That will give us room for everyone. If anyone asks, we can say that we‘re planning for a big family.”
Josephine smiled at him. “Good choice.” Drake grinned sheepishly. “C’est why you hire local help, n’est-ce pas?” Josephine grinned as she pecked him on the cheek. “Yes, thank you, Drake. Now, we are running late, Gerard. I suggest we move quickly.”
“But of course, Genevieve.” Josephine smiled at that reply. He is already in character. Excellent. Hope he holds up well.
(At an estate outside of Paris)
As they came to a stop, Josephine talked to Drake. “Now, remember, you and I are a pair of newlyweds who eloped in Paris. I am sorry, Drake. Regina delayed us far longer than expected.” Drake put away the folder and carefully tucked it into a hidden pocket in the side of the car.
A valet awaited them as the car pulled up. The car itself was not impressive on the outside, but the valet could hear the roar and purr of the engine inside of it. One person, a blue fox gentleman, stepped out of the driver’s seat. His white tuxedo faded into blue highlights at the sleeves as he walked to the other side of the car. A gorgeous cougar femme, in a strapless black dress, stepped out. “Gerard, give your keys to the nice gentleman, and let‘s be on our way.”
“But of course, Genevieve. We’re already late, so we may as well make it fashionable, n’est-ce pas?”
“But of course, dear.” The blue fox then gave his keys to the valet. “Do be gentle with it, mon ami. She is something I have worked on many a night. So, make sure you treat her with ze same respect I do, n’est-ce pas?
“Oui, monsieur. I shall treat her with the gentlest gloves.
“Merci beaucoup. Et voici,” Drake handed the valet a 50 Euro note. “Some extra motivation.”
“MERCI, MONSIEUR! Right this way, Monsieur et Madame. The host of the party, Monsieur St. Quinn, will be with you shortly.” Once he was out of earshot, Josephine made a quick call. “You all know what to do.”
(On a roof close by)
Samantha looked through the scope of her rifle, in position to observe the party. The scope had a camera mounted to allow a digital feed, even as she herself was concealed on the rooftop of a neighboring house to observe (after taking steps to insure that it would remain deserted for as long as she was there). She waited until after Drake’s car was parked.
“Mikera, you there?”
“I am here, and I copy. I am set up in the Rover. Discreetly, of course. Accessing video feed…now.” Inside the Rover, several monitors lit up. One was at Sam’s position on the roof, another on Drake’s lapel pin, and a third on Josephine’s purse. “Okay, Sam, they are in the building. Keep an eye on the front door and see who pops in.”
(Meanwhile, inside the estate)’
“Ahhhh, bonjour Monsieur et Madame Elderon, et welcome to my humble estate. Je m’appelle Betrand St. Quinn, and I will be your host tonight. The party is just beginning.” Drake walked in and saw a fair number of others, making sure the lapel pin faced forward discreetly as each person inside greeted them. Bertrand smiled at them. “I have heard of two very wealthy newlyweds coming into zis town. I thought it only fair to welcome them here. I hear you two plan to buy an estate here?”
“Once our parents get over the idea of us marrying,” Josephine, replied. “Not every day you find a man so worthy of you that you have to elope with him.”
“Gerard Elderon,” smiled as he wrapped his arm gently around his “wife.” “C’est vrai, mon ami. Mes parents actually gave me that advice. When I told them I wished to marry someone, the only advice mon pere gave me was ‘elope, et tres vite.”
“Bon, you both make a lovely couple. Now, the caterers have informed me that dinner will soon be ready. Then we can discuss something. But first, some wine. This is a Cognac of my own brewing. Feel free to tell me what you think.” He motioned for the waiter to pour them both wine glasses. Drake looked on watched the waiter pour it. Josephine took the glass, only for Drake to stop her. “Normally, I would say ‘ladies first,’ but pas ici. Allow me to insure that the wine is up to standard. He calmly took a small sip, and cringed as he tasted a metallic, and yet something not unlike a very sour vinegar. He couldn’t conceal his reaction.
*PPHHHHFFFFTTT!!* *COUGHCOUGHCOUGH*
Josephine looked at Drake as he had just spat the small mouthful of drink into his handkerchief. She then backed up when she saw the outrage on his face, as he yelled at their host, "WHERE DID YOU AGE THIS?! DANS VOTRE AUTO?!"
"E-excuse me?" The host of the house looked at the young "aristocrat," confused. Drake then continued his tirade. "This tasted like you distilled it in a car engine, then ran it through the gas filter, put it through the transmission of a cheap Yugo, before bottling it into an expensive-looking bottle and selling this cheap SLUDGE as a fine wine. This is the worst Cognac I have ever tasted.” He then closed his eyes, still reeling from the aftertaste. “Non, je regrete. I can‘t even call it that because it never made it that far.“ Drake then grabbed the man and pulled him so his eyes were on the bottom of the bottle. “Now, you see this?“
“S-see what?“
“Ze sludge on the bottom of the bottle, you swine!“ Drake swirled it around gently, before he poured the contents into a large bowl, revealing a sickly purple-green paste that clogged the opening as soon as it fell. Drake promptly removed the sludge with the handle of his fork.
“This, mon ami, tells me you didn’t seal it properly. And this WILL make someone sick. Zis is ze bacteria that causes a nasty little thing called botulism, amongst a host of other things most vile. There is no way in hell, none WHATSOEVER, that I would willingly subject my beloved to this FILTH! GARCON!! Premiere, the nearest restroom. THEN TAKE ME TO YOUR WINE CELLAR, S‘IL-VOUS-PLAIT. I will get another bottle, one that is a properly aged vintage, myself."
He then clasped his hand in Josephine's, causing her to blush a little bit. "Ma cherie, shall we go together? I may as well have company with you, n‘est-ce pas?" Josephine nodded, for once speechless, having witnessed a side of Drake none of the others had seen before.
Meanwhile, outside the building, Sam and Mikera continued their communications. Sam fanned herself as she spoke to Mikera. "Holy SHIT! My god, that was…wow. Drake REALLY got into character there.” Mikera sighed, "Yeah, yeah, let's just hope he doesn't get killed for that tirade. This guy is a bloody, remember?" Sam smirked as she continued. "So, you jealous of Jo or Drake?"
"....both."
“Is that right? Well, I look forward to more details. Man, I want to start shooting soon. I brought my favorite rifle with me! I need to blast something, damnit! I hope I don‘t have to wait all night.” Mikera shook her head in disbelief. “You and your need to shoot stuff. Ever since that day in Afghanistan…”
“HEY, I did that to rescue ten Marines!”
“I know, you STILL haven’t stopped talking about ‘Tim the Sorcerer!’”
“WHY SHOULD I? I mean, the guy picked up and used Taliban weapons without skipping a beat! It was nice to meet him. Although, I think he figured I was a guy instead of a girl. Must have been the ghillie suit.”
“Well, it is gonna have to wait. Drake and Jo are headed to the wine cellar.”
(As they are headed to the wine cellar)
“Sacre bleu, it took me deux litres of water and an entire pack of gum to get that vile taste out of my mouth.” Drake carefully threw out the wad of chewing gum after wrapping it in a tissue.
As they walked down, Josephine couldn’t stop blushing. Her arms were gently wrapped around Drake’s as they began to descend the stairs. My heart is still racing. Yeow…the way he reacted, the way he looked at me. And what he said… Josephine felt her blush deepen, before she tried to snap herself out of it. Jo, what are you doing? You are falling for him, and you haven’t known him for more than a couple of weeks! And yet…I want to kiss him. I want to say that.
“Gerard?”
“Oui, ma cherie?”
She didn’t say a word. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. But just saying that wouldn’t be nearly as fun as doing it. “That, dear, was for putting that bad man in his place. I do believe more fun things will be in order…”
(Inside a security room in the house)
“I want you to have a look at our friends in the wine cellar.”
“They passed your first test?”
“Yes. I was told he planned to get into the wine business. I wanted to be sure he knew the difference between a good wine and garbage. If he is to become a friend of the Blood Moon, then he has to be who he claims to be.”
“Very well, sir. Let us have a…oh my…”
“What on…?” Bertrand looked at the monitor and blushed, as the security officer turned to him. “Judging by that kiss, they are definitely newlyweds, sir.” Bertrand sighed at that. “They could have asked for a room. Now shut it off. Let us not intrude upon their-ahem- privacy. The matter at hand can wait.” With that, the security officer shut off the monitor. “You sure we should?”
“He can use the financing for his new business. We can help him get off the ground, if he doesn’t object to getting his hands dirty. After all, with the labor we can get him, I am sure he will be quite pleased with the results.”
“What will Jean-Michael say about this? He is not gonna be thrilled.”
Bertrand scoffed at the notion. “He is irrelevant. The times have changed. This world is no place for idealists, and he is the worst of the lot. How he survived as long as he did, I do not know. But I do know this: we can make a lot more profit in the new trades we are looking into, than we ever could have imagined had we kept doing things Jean-Michael‘s way.”
The men continued talking, with Bertrand unaware of what would soon conspire.
~~~~
(In a hidden alcove)
The bat femme listening in on the bug planted on the security chief frowned. “It would appear as though Senor St. Quinn has indeed betrayed our trust, as our ‘negotiator‘ said. Just not sure what sort of business is involved.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the line before the reply. “It would appear that mademoiselle Reaper was right when she said zat he was running a meat business. A pity. Head to the rendez-vous point, ma cherie. We strike in 30 minutes. The Mink has returned and the Flying Squirrel is handling their hard phone lines. I am bringing the weapons. Get ready.”
“Understood, Senor. Oh, et Senor?”
“Oui?”
“Can I get a massage after this? I have been tense all day.”
“Of course. I know just the hotel for all of us to go to when this is over. But business first. Bertrand has violated my trust, engaging in such a crime. All criminals must have standards, ma cherie, lest we become no different than monsters. And sadly, this one needs culled. The Bloodies got to him, and for that, we cannot allow him to continue this savagery. Celestia?”
“Hmmm?”
“Get changed, and scout the estate. You will be casing the area. Look for security, and do be careful. Carry one of the concealable firearms just in case, and do not forget the special devices.”
“Si, I shall start at once. I used to be a militia member in Medellin, Colombia. Something like thees? No big deal. But the slave trade? I almost ended up as one. I won‘t let it happen to anyone else.” Celestia got started immediately, undressing from her black sweater and pants, and replacing them with a little red dress that hugged her curves, and her boots with a pair of high heels. After putting on lipstick and earrings and putting her previous clothes away, she was a far cry from the woman who had been talking to Jean just moments before.
Now, let’s drive them crazy. She walked to the front door, and knocked, as a bodyguard stopped her. “Excuse me, mademoiselle, we need to see an invitation.”
“Well, pardon, mon ami, mais I was sent here by a phone call. I am what you would call a ‘last-minute arrival.’” The bodyguard looked over her and sighed. Figures. Bertrand always had a thing fer call girls. “Okay, mademoiselle, come inside. Bertrand is in a meetin’ right now. When he gets out, you can talk to him then.”
“Merci beaucoup, monsieur. I appreciate the honesty of a strong man like you. I bet you do SO much to protect him” The bodyguard blushed, and coughed as he showed her in. “Ummm, don’t worry about waiting, mademoiselle, just make yourself at home.” The bat femme the bodyguard saw smiled sweetly at him as she did just that.
Wow, Bertrand, you sure don’t know how to pick them. Your doorman is a sucker for a pretty face. Well, let’s see what we have here, hmmm? Looks like guards posted at some of the windows. Many of them disguised as servants. Cameras are all over the place, so where is the nerve center? Probably that back room over there, where the two servants keep hanging out. Well, it won’t be for long.
She removed something from her purse and began to set up small, discreet discs around the estate‘s bottom floor. These discs should take care of any cameras. They look like, and even function as coasters. Just have to wait for the command. I always did love these things, and the havoc they can raise. She noted the firearms they used. A lot of handguns hidden in the outfits, and a good number of ankle and thigh holsters here. This isn’t just another dinner party. Looks like we are about to crash a Blood Moon meeting.
She could barely conceal a smile. Good. With what they are up to, they cannot be allowed a further hold in France, or anywhere else in Europe. These muchachos are bad news, so it is time to end this “beef” operation.
~~~~
(In the security room)
“Monsieur, we got a dispatch from one of the Talons!”
“Oui?”
“Drake LaGuerre was sighted in Paris earlier tonight! Due to his relation with Jean-Michael, he is a high-value target! It will hit him where it will hurt Jean the most.”
Bertrand reviewed the picture. “This looks like Monsieur Elderon, but, c’est n’est pas possible. His son isn’t married. In fact, he looks barely out of school. Monsieur Elderon is older. Besides, I vetted him. Everything checked out. Still, let us be on the side of caution. I think it is time he got to see what we do. When they are done with the wine cellar, have him and his wife come here.”
“At once.”
~~~
(In the wine cellar)
Drake was just showing Josephine each vintage, lipstick still all over him, and him still blushing. “Now, this is a Pinot Noir. This is what Samantha would probably drink given her love for pork. And for fish, you will want a good cabernet…”
“Monsieur et Madame Elderon?” A maid peeked in. “The master of the house is expecting you. He says to meet him in his study.”
The two looked at each other and nodded. Drake promptly worked to remove the lipstick from his cheeks so they could look presentable when they got to the top. Bertrand smiled as he saw them both walk in. “Good evening, Monsieur et Madame. It is time for us to give you the real reason you are here. Please, follow me.”
He led them to one of the shelves in his library, before tilting back one of the books. The shelf slid back, leading them to a dark corridor, as he continued, “Let me explain this. I am a representative of the Order of the Blood Moon. Our agenda is simple: nothing short of the restoration of the purity of the world’s populations.” This gave them both pause. “Purity?”
“Did you not notice? Even as we speak, mongrels, inferiors unworthy of the right to be considered our equals, walk these streets. They refuse to accept our culture, our language, our traditions, and ultimately bring crime to our very doorsteps! But we have uses for them. After all, every beef operation needs good little cattle.” He pointed to a number of cages, their occupants being held in shackles and chains. “All I do is put them back where they belong, forever bound to serve their betters. We of the Blood Moon ask of you to join us. When I saw you test the wine I had out on yourself first, I realized.”
“Realized what?” Drake seemed calm, but inside, he was resisting the urge to strike Bertrand down where he stood. Bertrand smiled. “Humility, a fine virtue. I see you as a man of culture. A man who understands what this world has lost! We have to take our land back from the mongrels! It is actually quite profitable. We also sell weapons to those eager to kill each other in the streets. Sure, innocents might be caught in the crossfire, but what is an omelet without a few broken eggs when the stakes are as zey are?”
Josephine paused. Who knew the Bloodies were anything like this? Megalomaniacal bastards, the lot of ‘em! This is definitely not good. I hope Sam and Mikera are ready to help us end it.
~~~~
(Meanwhile, above ground)
The security agents continued to monitor things. They saw the woman still waiting for Bertrand on the camera, being too taken in by her appearance to keep an eye on anything else. “So that is the call girl Bertrand supposedly invited?”
“Yeah, real looker, isn’t she?”
“I know, mon ami. I wouldn‘t mind une femme like her. Maybe I will be lucky and Bertrand will let me have a taste of her, or more.” None noticed that she pulled a cell phone out from her purse, and quietly spoke to it.
“C’est temps?”
“Oui.”
“Bon.” With that, she gently tapped a coaster, and the camera watching her suddenly went blank. And then, almost as quickly, the rest of the cameras went blank in a cascade effect. The security agents gasped, and attempted to get their radios active, only to hear nothing but static.
“Man positions, we’re being jammed!”
(Outside)
“WORK, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!“ Mikera was screaming at her monitors. All the pictures went quiet, and any attempt to contact Drake and Jo were thwarted. She then struck the monitor several times. Again, no answer. Exasperated, she began to contact Samantha. “Sam, SAM! Do you copy?!”
“Ow! Keep it down, will ya? I like my hearing!” The snow leopard femme replied, her ears ringing from Mikera‘s yelling. “I copy, Mikera. No answer either, huh?”
“Nope, what about your electronics?”
“Comm works fine when I talk to you, but whatever it was, the scope is fried, and no calls are getting through. I have switched to old-fashioned glass and steel for my scope.” Samantha looked through the scope, looking over the front. “I have a visual on someone at the front door.”
On the ground, the door man saw a someone walking up with a duffle bag. He wore a pinstripe suit, a half-mask obscuring his face, and a fedora, as he stopped just short of the entrance. “Pardon, monsieur, mais I have business here.”
“I need to see an invitation, mon ami.”
“Ah. Tres bien.” He reached into the duffel bag, and pulled out a Thompson machine gun. “Et voici, mon invitation. Une probleme?” The head bodyguard gulped hard realizing the weapon was authentic. Merde, no job is worth THAT. The bodyguard stuttered. “C..c’est some invitation, mon ami. Why didn’t you say so?! R-right this way. Go on ahead.”
Jean nodded as the man stepped aside. “Take mon advice. Go home, and forget you ever saw me.” The head bodyguard nodded and ran off, leaving Jean shaking his head. “Such cowardice. Bertrand never could pick his employees well. A man like him has no business watching ze door.”
On the roof, Samantha gulped. She had seen the unknown man pull the gun out. “Mikera, that racking sound was a 1920‘s-era Tommy gun! Forget subtlety, girl, we gotta get in there! Drake and Jo are about to be in a SHITSTORM!”
“Boizhe moi…so much for the easy way. Damnit, who the hell do they think they are?!!” Mikera walked out, two large revolvers in belt holsters, with a Makarov 9mm in an ankle holster. Just as she had gotten out of her car, she saw the pinstriped figure kick the door in, and spray fire into the house. As Samantha closed from her position, however, she saw two more shadows heading towards the back of the house.
“Mikera, you see that?”
“Yeah, two more at the rear. I am on my way there now, you go to the front and find out who that guy is!” Samantha nodded. “Copy that. Be careful.”
~~~~
(In the basement)
Drake and Josephine heard gunfire above them. Bertrand blanched. He knew that sound. It was the distinct sound of Jean-Michael’s Tommy gun. “H-him?! HERE?! Non…tres non…c’est n’est pas possible!” He then looked to the blue fox he had tried to recruit, and was angry. “You…so you ARE his son. I will deal with you in a minute. Hold onto them! Don’t let them escape. I am going to force a negotiation.”
“Quoi?!” Drake looked confused as the man ran outside, gun drawn. Drake and Josephine looked at each other. Was our cover blown? If so, by whom or what? Who are the ones who are launching the attack? I sure as hell don’t recall Sam or Mikera giving us any signals.
“Gerard? I need to go to tha little women’s room…” One of the guards stopped her. “Non, madame, we can’t let you leave-”
*CRACK* Drake winced when Josephine’s knee connected solidly between a guard’s legs. She then grabbed the man by the arm and kneed him in the stomach twice, before finishing him off with an elbow to the temple as his face met the wall. Another guard went for his gun, only for Drake to kick his hand against his wall, before sending a second kick to the stomach. Drake then lifted him up by the collar, and punched him, knocking him to the floor, before grabbing a fire extinguisher and knocking him out.
Drake then shook his hand, wincing from the throbbing his right hand had from that punch. He wasn’t distracted long, as neither could ignore the gunshots filling the upper floors. “Josephine, what is going on?” Josephine closed her eyes. “Somethin’ we didnae expect. Someone else is fightin’ up there. Drake, he said you were ’his’ son. Any idea what he might mean?”
Drake shook his head. “Non. Maybe something we left in the car might have given me ze answer?” Drake sighed. “I want to know, how is mon pere involved in zis?” Josephine thought about it, her green eyes alight with realization. “He was scared, Drake. He was nae only shocked, but terrified. What kinna man is yer father to be scarin’ someone like Bertrand St. Quinn so completely?” Drake then looked at the prisoners in the cells. “C’est une probleme for later. Let’s free them, and see what else we can do.”
~~~~
(Meanwhile, above them)
Mikera had hidden in the bushes as two women, a mink and a flying squirrel, both arrived at the back door. One of them pulled out a large shotgun, and racked it. She then fired into the door, before kicking it in. Mikera followed into the maelstrom, unaware of what was brewing.
Meanwhile, Samantha arrived at the front, a pair of pistols drawn. Damn, I was really wanting to get a couple of headshots in with that rifle too. Oh well, this is more fun anyway. Josephine watched as the man in the pinstripe suit was pinned down by gunfire in a corner of the room. Only for two bullets to down his attackers from behind.
Samantha then found herself in a standoff with a pretty bat femme in a strapless black dress. Samantha glared at her. But just as it looked like they were going to fire...
“Une moment, Celestia. That won’t be necessary.”
“But-”
“If she were with them, I’d already be dead, n’est-ce pas?” Just then, one of the guards drew a gun behind Celestia..
BLAM!
Celestia stood there, stunned. She had heard the bullet whiz by her head, and strike the guard down behind her down. Celestia then looked back at the snow leopard femme, her gun barrel still smoking. “Ehhh, gracias, I think.” The man in the pin-striped suit agreed. “It would appear we have a common enemy. Your name?”
Samantha huffed at him. “I am not giving it to you. I don’t know who’s side you are on.” The blue fox smiled at her. “C’est bien. He pulled up a pistol and fired, shooting past Samantha, and into another guard behind her. “Peut-etre c’est n’est pas le temps for this conversation. Let us get to Bertrand, tres vite!” Samantha nodded in disbelief as she and Celestia went further into the estate. Who ARE these guys? Criminal element, most likely. Well-equipped too. Not the kind of fight I want to get in at the moment. Not with Drake and Jo still in danger. I guess for now, I will run with them.
Meanwhile, Mikera found herself shadowing the other two women. The shotgun-wielding one had fired one blast from the Special-Carbine, and all but cleared a room. Mikera saw them kick in another door. The bulk of the serving staff was in the kitchen cowering, hands over their heads. Mikera gasped when she saw that many were wearing collars.
“HOLD IT!” Both of the other women stopped, and stared at the Cheshire-Calico before them. Mikera, in turn, got a better look at the collars. Mikera cursed. “Fuck. These are explosive, probably wired to an arming mechanism in the area. I need some tools, NOW.” The two women paused, then nodded. “You both have names?”
The mink replied first, “Vera. Vera la Fiero.” The flying squirrel femme then replied, “Esmerelda de Calice.” Mikera nodded. “Mikera D’Williams. Are you both cops? Scotland Yard, Spetnaz, Interpol?” Both laughed and shook their heads as Esmerelda replied. “Oh no, we’re both on the other side. We work for someone who takes the Blood Moon’s actions…personally.”
“You sound Russian,” Mikera answered. “I am from Kiev.”
“I hail from St. Petersburg, myself. But now eez not the time for chit chat. Now, you can defuse these, ya?”
“Y-yeah. I need more tools, and some extra hands. I have to hope these are all rigged the exact same way. Otherwise, we‘ll be warm for the rest of our depressingly-short lives.”
Vera and Esmerelda looked at each other and nodded as Vera replied, “Tell us what you need. We’ll get it for you.” Mikera got out a multi-tool. “I will need a small screwdriver, something like what a jeweler would carry. I also need pliers, wire cutters, and something I can use to short it as a last resort. I didn’t expect to have to defuse bombs today.”
Esmerelda went to her, realizing something. “Ze problem is, we won’t have time to get zem all. We need to find a way to remove the collars without detonating them.” Vera grinned as she pulled something out of her hair. “You two try to locate that device. I think I can manage it. I will get them off as fast as I can.”
“Good luck! We‘ll try to find the transmitter. And Vera?”
“Si?”
“Be careful, tovarisch. I don‘t want to have to explain to our lifemates that we had to clean bits of you off the floor.”
She nodded, as the other two departed. But it left Mikera having to ask something.
“Lifemates?”
“Oh yes, myself and the others are life mates. Vat, you have never heard of ze polyamory?”
Mikera blushed. "W-well...I do fantasize about eet...but I would rather not talk about it with someone I have known for the last five minutes."
(In the front of the house)
“Our first priority is to locate Bertrand. And maybe whoever else he has.” The suited man fired a burst into more guards, as he pressed in. Samantha and Celestia split off to the second floor, eliminating guards at the upper floors, and firing suppressing fire to keep more at bay.
Meanwhile, in the back, Mikera had drawn one of her revolvers as Esmerelda had to evade fire. Several of the enemy were hiding behind a corner, taking pot shots. Mikera fired her revolver, and a loud bang was heard as the men fell down, stunned. Mikera then closed in, and bound their hands and feet so they couldn’t escape. “There. Three suspects in custody.”
“How did you…?”
“Oh, the flash bangs? My own design. I use modified shotgun shells for my revolvers. The other one has tear gas rounds. I’d have brought my dragon’s breath rounds, but those are NOT for indoor use.”
“…you can fire dragon’s breath rounds, from a revolver?”
“Mine are both customs. But yes, it is possible. You just have to tailor the ammunition for it, and use a large enough cartridge.” Mikera then made sure the three men were out of harm’s way. “The police will handle them when it is time. Let’s keep looking.” She then noticed Esmerelda calmly reaching for one of the pillows on the couch. She then grabbed one of the men in particular, a security guard who looked to be high up.
“There is a dead man’s switch for the servant’s collars somewhere here. Where are they?”
“Go to hell, you bitch. I shall tell you nothing,” Esmerelda sighed. “I am sorry to hear that.” With that, she pressed the pillow hard against the man’s face, attempting to smother him. Mikera was in shock.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?!“ Esmerelda replied sharply, “We don’t have time to dick around with this. We don’t find that switch, Vera will be blown up with them. This is no time to do it long way.“ With his hands and feet bound, he was in no position to fight back. She waited until he started to weaken, before she let up, watching him gasp for air.
“I will ask you again. Where is that switch?”
“C-control panel…security room, yellow switch, near the stairway.” She then lifted up the pillow again. “Are you lying to me? Because if I find out you are…“ She whispered in his ear, so he could feel her breathe. “I will come back, and you had best pray that I don’t get more…inventive. You’d be surprised what I can do with an ink pen in the right places.”
The man winced when she was about to put the pillow on him again, and then she put it under his head. “Let’s hurry. Before Vera gets herself blown up.” They ran into the security room, working quickly to locate the switch. Mikera finally found it and got to work. “Esmerelda, between you and I, we can get this.”
Mikera looked over the button, making sure that it wouldn’t have the opposite of the desired effect. “Looks to be standard. The override switch should be…” Mikera noticed a switch under the camera console. “Here.” Both examined it, and with a gulp, flipped the switch.
Aside from bullets firing nearby, nothing. No kaboom, no explosion, just gunfire from the front of the estate. “I think we did it.”
Moments later, Vera arrived. “Guys, the collars just fell off. I have already removed and disposed of them. You just saved all of their lives. The head waiter here says there is an Ocicat femme by the name of Celine. She was a favorite of Bertrand’s, and she might be in another part of the house. We have to find her right away. I got the help to safety. They will be safe until the cops get here. Some of them will be returning with our leader when this is over.”
Soon, the gunfire also stopped, as Jean, Samantha, and Celestia all met with them.”
Samantha was concerned. Drake and Jo were nowhere to be found. “Mikera, any sign of the others?” Mikera shook her head. “I can’t find them. They have to be here, somewhere.” The man in the pinstripes turned to them. “Who are you looking for? Maybe we can help.”
Both Vera and Esmerelda agreed. “You helped us out here, so we owe you. So, let’s go get Bertrand, and have him help us find your friends.”
As they scoured the house, finally arriving at the study, they heard a sound behind them.
*CLAP* *CLAP* *CLAP* “BRAVO! BRAVO! Well done, Jean-Michael! That IS your real name, isn’t it? You, who crashed a perfectly good party and ruined a perfectly good business venture?” The pin-striped man smirked as he threw aside the half-mask. “Well, no point in this, then. Bertrand, you and I need to have a talk. I hear you have been investing in a trade most forbidden by my syndicate.”
“And indeed you have heard correctly. This is quite the blow you have dealt to my establishment. It is quite inconvenient. However, I have something of yours, Jean. I have your own flesh and blood. Your son, I believe. He is in the basement now. If you value his life, you will surrender your weapons. All I need is one call to eliminate him.” Jean grinned. “Hard to do when it is in ze basement and you have no communications.” Bertrand smirked. “Is that so?” He then pulled out a whistle. “All I have to do is use this. And the guards will know to end his life.”
Jean glared at him. “Is that so? Show me first, and I will.” Bertrand paused. Jean was taking this well. Too well. “Proof of life, or I end you here, Bertrand. Your call.” Bertrand smirked, as he went to the hidden door, and opened it.
And the smile was wiped from his face when two fists met him, knocking him back before they grabbed him, and dragged him to the ground. As Jean went to them, he found himself in a standoff.
All there gasped as they looked at Drake, then Jean-Michael, then Drake again. Finally, Vera and Josephine stated the words on everyone’s lips.
“It is like looking into a mirror.”
“If it weren’t for that bit of grey on Jean’s head, I wouldnae be able to tell the difference.” Vera had to add to the conversation. "Am I the only one who is turned on by this?"
"Nope," Samantha replied.
Meanwhile, the two men continued to stare at each other.
“Bonjour to you too, son.”
“Says the man I haven’t spoken to since I was four.” Jean kept his gaze locked. “Touche. I do need to talk to you, to explain some things. But zis is not the right place ou temps for that conversation. As it is, however…we both have something the other wants.”
While they had been locked in that discussion, Bertrand had seen an Ocicat femme from the corner of his eye. He reached for her and pulled out a derringer, holding it to her temple. “NO ONE MOVES, OR ZIS FEMME DIES!” Jean wasted no time, jabbing him in the temple with the Tommy Gun, while his son wrenched the femme away, before pinning Bertrand down.
Jean then continued, after insuring the safety of the maid. “Now, my offer is this, I will give you everything you need to close this business most unacceptable down for good, and several others like it in Spain, Greece, Italy, and other nations, and in return, you hand Bertrand over to me, so I can deal with him as I see fit.”
Drake realized that with him pinning down Bertrand, and Jean still holding the Tommy gun, the team was in no position to negotiate. Jean then added something else. “Rest assured, mes amies, he will be dealt with in proper fashion. It just won’t take as long, and it will spare ze taxpayers an expense most grande.”
Drake had realized he was beat. “Your terms are very generous.” Drake then dragged Bertrand up, and handed him to Jean, as Josephine agreed. “He is all yours. Now, about yer end?” Jean nodded, and pulled a flash drive from his vest pocket. “Voici, everything you need. We will meet again, in due time, Samantha, Josephine, Mikera, and Drake. In fact, with our common enemies, we will meet far sooner than you think.”
Jean leaned towards the maid Bertrand had held hostage. “Mademoiselle, I extend this offer to all victimized by zis trade most insufferable. If you wish, you can come with me.”
The woman looked at him, puzzled, replying in a language neither Drake nor his companions could understand, but Jean nodded. “Ah, japonais. Kansai accent, to be exact. Then ze name Bertrand gave you isn‘t your real one.” Jean then spoke in Japanese, in a reassuring voice. The woman then nodded. All Drake saw was tears in her eyes, replaced with a look of grim determination, and a nod. He then helped her up. “Bon. In time, you will be a wonderful asset in my syndicate. But for now, healing is what you need.”
As Jean began to walk away, Josephine had to ask something. “Wait! Why? Why help us do battle against this group? How do you know who we are?”
Jean smiled, and looked back at Josephine. “Le libre choix c’est la dignite de l’homme.” Drake gasped, and Jo turned to him. “Drake, what did he mean?” Drake nodded. “It means, ‘Freedom is the dignity of men. It is ze motto of our family.” Jean nodded. “C’est vrai. As for how I know who you are, I consider it a most important business to know the situation with family. Although…you will have to figure out how I learned your names entirely on your own.”
Drake was surprised when she walked away with Jean, as did some of the others. As they walked away, they heard Bertrand screaming. “Kill me! KILL ME, DAMN YOU!!” Jean then smacked Bertrand with the butt of the Tommy gun, and dragged him back to his feet. “You will not be getting off with such ease, Bertrand. Not for zees. You are mine now, and nothing, pas mortal, pas Dieu, can save you now.” When the police sirens blared, Jean was already gone. Drake and the girls each walked out, evidence in hand, as they began the unenviable task of talking and explaining to the local gendarmes what had happened.
And one nagging thought in the back of their heads.
He knows our names. How is that possible?
(Later that night, at a hotel in Paris)
Drake went upstairs and got into the shower, exhausted from the night’s events. Josephine went to get changed. Once they were out of earshot, Mikera and Sam looked at each other as Mikera grinned. “Wanna see what they were doing in the wine cellar?”
Sam smiled at the idea. “Why the hell not? Let’s see it. I wanna see things from Drake’s POV.” When Jo got out of the shower and walked downstairs in a bathrobe, she blushed when she saw them watching footage of Drake and her making out in the wine cellar.
“What d’ye two think ye’re doin’?” Sam grinned, as it was not often she got to see Josephine blush, “I wanted to see what I missed on the roof. Don’t worry, Jo, we’re not missing much. All I am seeing is your chest, and well, none of the good parts.”
“Mikera?” Jo had said this dryly, even as she blushed, to let her displeasure be known.
“Yeah?”
“None of this footage sees the light o’ day with that woman. We clear?”
“Crystal.”
“Good. That reminds me, I need to let Drake know we need to pick up those rings tomorrow. It would be bad form if we paid for them and never picked them up.” Mikera and Sam paused at this. “Why don’t we go with you and Drake? We have to pick some jewelry up too.”
“All right, we can do that. Just make sure Drake never sees that footage, or he will be red fer a week!” Mikera then grinned. “So, how does he kiss?”
Josephine replied before she could catch herself, “Like a prince.” Realizing what Mikera had done, she picked up a pair of pillows and threw them at the Cheshire-Calico, before heading back to her quarters.
(Later that night)
‘That woman’ was not happy.
“You had Jean-Michael LaGuerre right THERE, and you let him, and his women escape?!"
"He knew who we were. Not just that, but he was the one with the Tommy Gun. We didnae have a choice. Besides, donae complain. Police forces all over Europe are rounding up the other meat operations. Ye have no right ta complain."
"The hell I don't. Your cover was blown?! By whom?! How did Jean-Michael LaGuerre know?!”
“His son was with us, but he was as surprised as the rest of us! In truth, he had the deer in the headlights look. I donnae think Drake has anything to do with it. It had to come from inside. Someone who knew we were here.”
“Wait, on top of this, you recruited Jean-Michael’s SON?!”
Josephine paused. “Yeah, you did give us the blessing. He is on the payroll, you signed off and everything.” The voice was silent for a long moment. “I will discuss this later. For now…we have no choice. Drake stays, but keep a close eye on him. If he is even slightly suspicious…”
“He is NOT. And if ya can him, ya can find a new team.”
“…I will speak to you later about this.” With that, that woman hung up, and Josephine added one more sentence. “Ye spoony bitch.” She then smirked when Drake walked outside of his room, blushing. Ach, good. He got ME picture. Hope he enjoyed the show.
(Next day, at the jeweler’s shop in Paris)
The old man saw the women and the man walk in. “Ah, tres bien, ze rings are complete. “He gulped as it dawned on each of the women, and not on the hapless young man behind them that each ring was the exact same design. “Ummm, oh dear.” He then ran, full sprint, to the back of the store.
Drake was puzzled at the jeweler’s reaction, as he removed the ring from its box. He then noticed each of the girls looking at him as he did. At first, Drake thought nothing of it. After all, they had their own rings as well. At least until they each compared each others’ rings, and made a startling realization.
They had all ordered the exact same ring design. Drake gulped as he watched everyones’ cheeks turn bright red. “I should walk away.”
“NO, YOU ARE STAYING PUT!” All three had said that. The jeweler could only watch as they all tried to explain to each other the design, and why they chose it. He could only think to himself one thing,
Sacre bleu, he has that many smitten with him? He is a man most fortunate. He then saw the girls yelling at him. Or not.
End Chapter V.
