
SECRETS
Nancy M. Popovich
Copyright Nancy M. Popovich 2011
Smashwords Edition
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Sighing in unreserved happiness, Sonya's eyes wandered to her new husband sitting in the adjacent seat, and she couldn't prevent the smile from encompassing her entire face. They were winging their way to Paris, a honeymoon trip planned for over two years.
They lived with Sonya's sister and family in Calgary, in the third floor apartment of their Victorian home, where they only paid for their utilities. This allowed them to salt away both of their salaries for the down payment on their own home. Sonya had been in the process of completing her Bachelor of Commerce degree and at the same time worked for the family company, which was her legacy. And she was determined to ensure its future, its very rosy future!
With her recent marriage, that future was now set. Uncle Stefan had bequeathed a twenty percent share in Snytyza, Inc., the company created by her three uncles and her grandparents' best friend. Pride to be a part of this successful family enterprise fired her resolve to make it even more successful.
Her history with Bryan was somewhat storied. She so clearly remembered their first meeting on the University of British Columbia campus during her second year there. She had been seventeen at the time, and when her father discovered the almost ten year difference in their ages, he reacted in a manner that Sonya had never before witnessed.
The scene had been most unpleasant, ending in tears and a slamming door. She had not been able to convince her father that her decision to abandon her studies in the Faculty of Education was solely based on the fact that she had come to the realization that teaching wasn't to be her career. Or, that this decision was hers alone.
Arguments and rationalization had fallen upon deaf ears. Both her parents had been educators before their retirement. Her father had been the principal of a high school and her mother a grade school teacher. They loved teaching with such passion that they could not fathom their younger daughter's disenchantment with their chosen profession. Instead, they placed the blame for her decision directly upon her older boyfriend's influence, refusing to believe that he had, in reality, tried to coax her to remain in the faculty.
Sonya had no doubt at all that Bryan's decision to accept a post-graduate scholarship position in Paris to study for his doctorate was his way of giving her time and space to make some serious decisions about her life. It had been so very difficult to watch him walk away and board his flight, but Sonya had accomplished it without a tear -- at the time. The tears flowed later, in private.
When her aunt and uncle decided to take a long-planned trip to Australia, Sonya jumped at the opportunity to stay with her elderly grandmother while they were gone. Her parents lived only blocks away, and she adored her Gran. They spent hours cooking and talking. Sonya had even succeeded in presenting the wonders of the internet to her grandmother, proudly revealing photos sent by her aunt and uncle from Australia.
Then the bubble burst. Her beloved grandmother died in her sleep at the age of ninety-six while she was under Sonya's care. Unfortunately, this was only the beginning in a series of deaths that left the entire family devastated.
The nightmare continued when her parents had been killed in the massacre that was September Eleventh. Her sister Susan's strained voice informing her that their parent's plane had been hijacked and crashed, would be forever etched in her brain. She was still numb, even after all the time that since passed.
Part of it was the guilt of having argued, yet again, with her father regarding what direction that her education would take. Even now, she felt the guilt bubble up in her throat. It had been their last conversation. Certainly, it had not been what she would have chosen to be her last words with her father. She and Susan had discussed it many times since, and Sonya was beginning to forgive herself, for as Susan had so bluntly put it, simply being human.
A soft caress kissed the back of her hand. "A penny for your thoughts," Bryan whispered as dimples flashed and his smile widened, sparking into dark brown eyes peeking from behind wire rimmed glasses.
"I was just thinking that it's taken us a long time and a few bumps in the road to get here, hasn't it?" she replied as a slow smile crossed her face and flashed in her eyes.
Bryan gazed into her striking, china blue eyes and saw the love of his life. The fact that this stunning woman chose to be his wife still had him shaking his head in disbelief and thanking his lucky stars.
He had never considered himself to be handsome. In true fact, his childhood had been spent wearing the labels of geek and nerd. In an effort to fit in, he had let his dark hair grow, but unfortunately, his thick, curly hair had portrayed far less than the 'cool' image he strove for and made him even more of an outcast. The fact that he grew up on a ranch cemented his fate as an outcast.
Finally deciding to be true to himself, Bryan cut his hair and stopped trying to be someone that he wasn't. Graduating from high school a year early, he pursued his love and talent in art, and graduated with a degree in fine art.
Because he could, he continued his studies, next obtaining a degree in teaching. It was while working on a post-graduate degree in art that the lightening bolt that was Sonya entered into his life.
That first encounter flashed into his mind as if it were yesterday. A goddess walked into the department office and he had been in a word, thunderstruck. Hair the colour of ripe golden wheat was windblown around a perfect face flushed from the wind. Then, she looked at him with the most brilliant china blue eyes that he had ever seen.
What struck him the most was her absolute lack of conceit. It had been his experience that beautiful women seemed to be very aware of their effect on men, especially those men that they considered to be geeky and awkward.
This stunning creature in the office had no such hang-up. In fact, she appeared to be totally unaware of her effect on men. He found himself wondering if this girl ever looked into a mirror. Surely, she knew just how beautiful she was. To his surprise, she appeared to be somewhat shy, but she spoke to him as if she was actually interested in what he had to say. She made him feel so comfortable, that he seemed to lose his awkwardness and spoke to her as if they were old friends.
Before he knew it, they were dating, and he considered himself to be the most fortunate man on the face of the planet. Perhaps God was rewarding him for his difficult youth, for which he would be eternally grateful. It had been an idyllic time. For the first time in his life, Bryan had confidence, something foreign to him until then. He felt desirable, and the longer that they were together, the more self-confidence that he gained.
Then, Sonya decided that she didn't want a career in Education. He did his best to change her mind, but she was adamant. As sweet as she was, she was just as stubborn, and once her decision was made, her decision was non-negotiable.
Unfortunately, her father didn't agree with his daughter's choice. It was easier to blame Bryan than to accept Sonya's decision. Their argument about Bryan, especially when the difference in their ages became an issue, had become really bitter. That was one of the reasons Sonya had jumped at the opportunity to stay with her grandmother while her aunt and uncle were in Australia.
It was the beginning of a string of the tragedies that had paralyzed the family. The first of which was the death of the venerable head of the family, and only weeks later, came the news that Sonya's parents had perished in the wake of the massacre that was September Eleventh, Two Thousand and One.
He had been in Paris at the time, and had gone so far as to put his name on a waiting list for a flight to Canada after the North American air embargo was lifted. Sonya had been steadfast in refusing his offer of support. She had shown him a strength that he never knew that she possessed, insisting that he remain in Paris and finish his art scholarship and doctorate. Her decision had been devastating. Why wouldn't she accept his support? Why didn't she want it?
Her emails had, over the course of time, explained her frame of mind. She still needed him, his input and his point of view, but she was trying to deal with life on her own, especially now that her parents were gone. It took every ounce of strength for him to stay in Paris but finally, they reconnected upon his return to Canada. At that time, Sonya had been living with her sister, Susan and her husband, Kevin. To their credit, Susan and Kevin had welcomed him because Sonya wanted it that way, something for which Bryan would always be indebted.
Sonya's decision to change her education direction to the Faculty of Commerce, was triggered by her part-time job with Snytyza Inc, a family owned company. The tragic suicide of her elderly aunt and uncle had only fuelled her need to succeed. Her uncle's bequeath of twenty percent of the company stock had come because she was the only member of the family other than his son, Peter, that took any interest in the family company that he had been instrumental in creating.
And Bryan supported her all the way. Whatever she wanted or needed, he would move heaven and earth to provide, regardless the cost.
"Yeah, we've earned what we have," he readily agreed, pulling her hand up to his lips and grazing it softly. "Happy honeymoon, Mrs. Brody-Mylowsky."
"Back 'atcha, Mr. Mylowsky," Sonya grinned. "I can't wait to have you show me Paris from an insider's point of view!"
"You will love it! The art, the buildings, the history -- you'll love it all!" Bryan continued enthusiastically. "I know you will. I've even rented my old place from when I lived there before. It's centrally located, and the landlady is a one of a kind gem. Madame Lalonde will make even you gain weight with her cooking. Buckle up, Babe, we're about to land!"
They held hands as the large aircraft began its descent, and touched down at Charles de Gaulle Airport.
"Madame Lalonde, comment ça va?(How are you)" Bryan declared, as his hug engulfed the small, chic woman that welcomed him with a kiss on each cheek.
"Je veux vous présenter ma nouvelle femme, Sonya. (I want to introduce you to my new wife) Sonya, this is our landlady, Madame Lalonde."
"Bienvenue, Chérie. Mon Bryan a dit que son chérie amour viendra. (Welcome, Chérie. My Bryan told me that his sweetheart was coming.) Welcome!" With that, she clasped Sonya's hand in a vise-like grip. "Vous êtes assez jolie. Très jolie! (You are very beautiful, very beautiful!) Beautiful!" she exclaimed with a Gallic gesture of her hands.
Somewhat at a loss for words, Sonya didn't know what to do next. Apparently Madame Lalonde knew all about her, but she was woefully uninformed about Madame Lalonde. All that Bryan had revealed to her was that they would be staying with his old landlady. In truth, he had been somewhat circumspect when it came to describing his time in Paris.
To be fair, the past few years had been so full of tragedies that Sonya hadn't really had the strength or the desire to ask too many questions about that time in his life, nor had he offered to fill her in. That, added to the fact that she had crammed two and a half terms of university courses into two, while working part time at Snytytza, had kept every waking hour packed full.
Bryan patiently waited until she was done, never once complaining. Patience was one of his virtues, Sonya suddenly realized. He had patiently waited for her to grow up, to complete her education and to agree to marry him. Another man would have left. Another man would have demanded, but, he had done neither. It was one of the many reasons that she loved him.
"Sonya?" Brian's voice snapped her back to reality. "Madame Lalonde has prepared dinner for us, but she'll understand if you want to go out and be alone." Typical Bryan, she contemplated, never forcing his wishes upon her.
A smile warmed Sonya's face. "That sounds lovely! Merci," she said, turning to Madame Lalonde. In return, Madame Lalonde grasped Sonya's hand and patted it.
"Bien! I cook now." Still holding her hand, Madame Lalonde pulled Sonya into the most charming Provencal kitchen she had ever seen. The table was set for four, wine glasses sat at the ready, and candles were waiting to be lit.
"Sit," they were ordered. Bryan pulled out a chair for Sonya and chose another next to her. Obviously, Madame Lalonde had expected them to stay. A most exquisite, mouth-watering aroma emanated from the casserole that Madame Lalonde removed from the oven.
A grin blossomed across Bryan's face. "This dish was always my favourite," he explained. "Merci, Madame Lalonde. Ça, c'est mon favori!"
Madame Lalonde silently nodded in acknowledgement as she continued to prepare their meal. She was just placing crusty bread on the table when a door slammed. Glancing up, her brow furrowed in annoyance as a handsome youngster burst into the room. One look at his flushed face and angelic smile, erased every trace of annoyance, especially when he stopped dead in his tracks and stared unabashedly at Sonya.
"Sylvain," Madame Lalonde said quietly. He looked up at her.
"Je suis en retard, Granmama, je le sait. (I am late, Grandmother, I know)" Obviously what he said pleased her.
"Sylvain," she continued in the same voice. "Ça, c'est Madame Mylowsky. Sonya, this is my grandchild, Sylvain."
With a formality befitting one much older, Sylvain very seriously nodded and shook Sonya's hand. "It is a pleasure for me to meet with you," he said in fairly good English. "Welcome to you as well, Monsieur Mylowsky."
"Thanks," Bryan replied with an amused look, tousling the boys' shining, dark hair in a way that told Sonya that this was not for the first time. "Your English has really improved since I lived here."
The youngster beamed with pride. "Granmama allows me to rent English movies on the weekend. Bridgit Jones, it was very funny, yes?"
A laugh escaped and Brian soberly nodded his head. "Yes, she was."
Watching this interaction with fascination, Sonya gauged the boy to be about eleven or twelve, about the same age as her nephew, Ivan. His animated brown eyes almost danced with mischief, and his hair was shining and very dark brown, a stray lock of which seemed determined to hang across his forehead.
"Pour the wine, Bryan," Madame Lalonde requested as she dished out their dinner and dispatched Sylvain to light the candles.
Their meal was as delicious as the aroma had promised. Conversation was a combination of English and French, in deference, Sonya assumed, to the fact her high school French was much less than adequate. Sylvain enjoyed practising his English, and argued when his grandmother sent him to do his school work and then to bed.
After assisting to clear the dishes, Sonya and Bryan retired to their room which was, as Sonya expected, every bit as charming as the rest of Madame Lalonde's home. It made her curious about how Bryan had met her and how long he had boarded with her.
"What do you think?" he asked as they prepared for bed.
Pausing as she brushed her hair, Sonya's reply was immediate. "I think this is absolutely perfect. How did you ever connect with Madame Lalonde?" she asked casually, unable to keep her curiosity hidden.
"A friend of a friend," he answered somewhat noncommittally. "One of the Profs took pity on me and put in a good word. Apparently, Madame Lalonde is pretty particular about who she allows to board with her."
"Does her grandson live with her all the time?"
A flash of compassion crossed Bryan's face. "His mom died and his dad works in the Middle East. They had a family conference as to what would be best, and it was decided he would live with his grandmother in France. His dad comes home every six weeks or so for a visit."
"How sad for that boy," Sonya's sympathy arose. "Thank goodness he has his grandmother. I'm a lot older than he is, and I still miss my mother," she admitted as they crawled into bed. "I'm wiped! It's been a very long day with the flight, time change and all."
Gathering Sonya into his arms, Bryan stifled a yawn. He was wiped as well, he admitted as he drifted to sleep beside his wife.
Awake long before dawn, Sonya sat by the window and watched as night reluctantly surrendered to day. A cat wandered down the street, crossed the road and entered into what appeared to be a garden. By the way it patrolled the perimeter of the yard Sonya surmised that this was where it called home. Sunrise finally struggled through the pale light, bathing buildings with its golden glow and casting deep shadows like tall giants all leaning in one direction.
"Been awake long?" Bryan's voice whispered in her ear.
"A few hours. Time zones are a bit of a bitch. Did you sleep?" Sonya replied.
"Off and on all night. I'm pretty lucky -- for some reason I seem to be able to sleep almost at will. Maybe it's because my younger brother, the one that died, needed twenty-four-seven care. We all took turns sitting with him. When he died, we didn't know what to do with all the extra time. Until then, we looked after Kenny. He left a pretty big gap in our lives."
She reached over and stroked his cheek softly. "I know that you still miss him. I guess my family was really fortunate not having to deal with a terminal illness, especially in one so young. All of the cousins have been healthy.
Leaning his chin on his wife's head, Bryan gathered her into his arms, watching out of the window with her. "Every family has its own hardships. What your family hasn't been forced to deal with in health issues, it has dealt with in tragedy. No one gets through life unscathed."
"I guess you're right, Sonya agreed with a ragged breath. "Everyone pays their dues."
Recognizing the change in her mood, Brian decided to change the subject. "Do you want to do some sightseeing today or do you want to shop, eat or whatever?"
"Whatever sounds good to me right now," Sonya smiled as she reached for him.
His heart skipping a beat at the look of desire in her eyes, and he doubted that any of the jocks that had preyed upon him as a youngster could ever claim such a beautiful woman as a part of their lives.
Their bodies touched softly, almost in a fragile manner. Passion, which was never far from the surface exploded, as they created their own universe, one in which no one and nothing existed other than each other.
Leading Sonya to their bed, Bryan began to make love to his love and with every touch trying to convey the depth and breadth of his love and commitment for his gift, his love, his wife. In the early light of dawn, they joined the sun in their explosion of light, love and passion.
"Do you want to see some of Paris today?" Bryan asked as he pulled a sweatshirt over his newly combed hair, sending it back into its seemingly constant disarray.
"Absolutely, there's nothing better than seeing a city from an insider's point of view. Where do we begin?"
"After breakfast, why don't we ask Madame Lalonde to pack us a lunch, and we can buy a bottle of wine somewhere, and have lunch along the river in one of the parks. We can just wander around for you to get the feel of Paris, and perhaps, go to the university where I studied. Then, tomorrow if you like, we can go to some of the tourist places -- the Eiffel Tower, Versailles, Notre Dame Cathedral or Montmartre. Le Louvre will take much more time. How does that sound?"
"That sounds so very honeymoon like! I love the idea. We can just wander around, suck up the ambience and forget work and the rest of the world. Great idea!" Sonya replied. "I'm starved!"
They proceeded to the kitchen, where Madame Lalonde had set out a continental breakfast and asked if they wished coffee, pouring each of them a cup. Sonya's eyes popped wide open with her first sip. It was the strongest coffee that she had ever encountered.
From the glitter in Bryan's eyes, Sonya knew that he had been expecting this reaction, and decided to put this item in her little black book. She did, gradually, become accustomed to the coffee, but definitely did not require a refill. Her caffeine level was over the top with just one cup.
After breakfast, Bryan loaded their lunch into his backpack along with a thermos of water, and then they bid adieu to Madame Lalonde, promising to be home in time for dinner.
Sonya loved Paris. She loved the feel of it, the architecture, the sound of it and the pulsing life that it seemed to have. Bryan was a great tour leader. He seemed to know the smallest neighbourhood corners, the most unique little spots and the shortest routes to where he felt that they needed to be. It was such a bonus to have a guide that knew not only the city, but what she would enjoy.
Eventually, they ended up at the American University of Paris, and as an alumni, Brian proudly led her around the campus that he knew so well. It was a learning experience for Sonya, given that her degree was earned in two slightly smaller universities. Bryan led her to the department in which he had studied. Some of the staff members greeted him. Others watched him with blank looks, wondering how this stranger could know their department so well.
Finally, they stood in front of an open door. Bryan didn't knock, he simply said, "Hey!"
The slight man with the goatee looked up from his desk and his smile lit the room. "Hey, Man!" was his response, as he leapt from his chair and enveloped Bryan in a king sized hug. "What the hell, you're in Paris?"
Then, he saw Sonya and his jaw dropped. "Holy shit, is this the lady you couldn't stop talking about? Jaysus, you weren't braggin', she is drop dead fuckin' gorgeous!"
Sonya didn't know what to do or to say, she was that embarrassed.
"Watch your mouth, Grégoire! The lady happens to be my wife!"
"If I were a Frenchman, Sonya, I would have some silky words to apologize, but I'm Louisiana Cajun and ya know, all I can say is, man, you are off the scale beautiful!" And, Bryan, I apologize for thinkin' that you were braggin'. Shit, you weren't evin' half right!"
Bryan laughed out loud. "I told you so, Grégoire, she's totally beyond belief! And, I will repeat, my wife. Your southern charm will not work with her like it does with the ladies here in Paris! You really are laying it on a bit thick," he added seriously.
Grégoire chuckled and let go of Bryan. He held his hand out to Sonya, and like a southern gentleman, kissed her knuckles. "Grégoire Benoit, at your service. It is my supreme pleasure to meet the beautiful wife of my good friend and student," he stated very formally. "Welcome to Paris!"
Sonya didn't know how to take this over the top man, but she relied on the internal radar that she could always depend upon. She couldn't help her blush, but she realized full well a come-on when one was presented. And for a change, she used her blonde beauty to pretend that she was not nearly as intelligent as she really was, as much as she despised that ploy. And she hoped that Bryan would keep his mouth shut.
For some reason that she couldn't understand, despite his bon vivre good humour, she instantly disliked Grégoire. It was a visceral reaction, one she always listened to, not that it happened often. Sometimes, she decided, it was better to have someone underestimate your intelligence, and his kind did automatically. This was a man to keep at arm's distance she decided, despite his seeming friendship with Bryan.
"Ah, Grégoire, how very nice to meet you! Bryan has spoken of you and the university so often. I love Paris, thank you. It's such a beautiful city for a honeymoon! I'm so looking forward to seeing the rest of its beauty. With such a wonderful tour guide, how can I go wrong!" she kissed Bryan softly on the cheek and took his arm possessively, batting her china blue eyes at Grégoire.
Grégoire's smile didn't quite reach his eyes, as he appeared to analyze her. They remained flat brown, but his face still smiled. "Madame Mylowsky, you are so right, Paris is such a lovely lady! I hope that you have a wonderful time here. I know that Bryan will show you everything that Paris has to offer. I have a class in twenty minutes, so I must rush! It was wonderful to see you again, man, and to meet you, Sonya. Perhaps, we can meet at the Le Cavern later?"
"Great idea!" Bryan replied before Sonya could object. "Same time as usual?"
"Oui! We will have an opportunity to socialize then. Au revoir!" With that, he lifted his computer bag onto his shoulder and rushed out of the office and down the hall.
Bryan put his fingers against his lips to shush Sonya from saying anything, and then led her out of the building. Then he turned to her and said, "That wasn't exactly the way that I wanted you to meet Grégoire. He's not quite what he appears to be. Neither were you, for the record, why the Barbie doll act?"
"And what exactly is it that he is?" Sonya demanded. "Frankly, he struck me as a total and complete asshole!"
Bryan blinked, and then threw his head back and laughed. "Yeah, he can be," he admitted, still laughing. "But when the chips are down, Grégoire is the guy you want in your corner. Unless," he admitted, "there is a beautiful blonde in the mix. Then, all bets are off! He isn't quite the Don Quixote that he'd like to pull off. If there was someone that I would choose to guard my back, however, it would be him."
"Why would you need someone to guard your back? And why did you shush me in the office?" Sonya queried with a furrowed brow. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"
"Don't be silly, Sonya, why would I have any sort of trouble? I'm an artist, a nerd, not someone that anyone would look at sideways, unless of course, I'm walking with my gorgeous wife! The walls have ears sometimes, Sonya, so it's best to keep our thoughts to ourselves, while in the department, anyway."
"That was something that Grégoire taught me when I worked on a special project with him. It was a prestigious project, and I got some hassle from other students because it meant extra credits. Not only that, but I got paid some money. Grégoire had my back, and I appreciated it."
"Let's forget about anything but you and me, Sonya, we're on holiday. Let's head on down to the Champs-Élysées and stroll down to the Arc de Triomphe. It's definitely more fun to watch than to drive."
With that they strolled out of the university, arm in arm, lost in each other and their discovery of the City of Lights. Unbeknownst to them, there were two shadows in their wake.
Le Cavern was noisy, loud and young and they definitely fit in. It appeared to be a hangout for university students, and Bryan led her through the crowded room to a corner already occupied by Grégoire and his groupies. Before she knew it, Sonya had a beer in one hand and was sitting next to Bryan. She had been unable to manoeuvre quickly enough and unfortunately, was seated next to Grégoire as well.
Most of the conversation took place in French, as would have been expected, but she understood the gist of most of it and spent her time analyzing the small group around Grégoire. She reflected that her sarcastic analysis of 'Grégoire's groupies' was right on the money. Obviously, most were students gravitating towards his authority.
One woman, however, appeared to be his age and status, and Sonya found her interesting to watch. She didn't miss anything that Grégoire said, but instead of hanging onto his every word like the students, she simply assimilated the information that he seemed to have a compunction to divulge.
The woman fit in, Sonya decided. She was petite, fashionable and very pretty. Her shining hair was styled in a very short bob and her thickly lashed, luminous hazel eyes didn't seem to miss anything. Sonya noticed a particularly intriguing ring on the hand that held her beer glass. It was big, silver and held a cabochon of dark red. What was her name again, Sonya pondered. Lulu, no, that wasn't it. It did have two syllables, and it was French sounding. Ah, it was Mimi! She would ask Bryan later about her.
"I do hope we haven't bored you too terribly," Grégoire stated as they prepared to leave.
"Not at all," Sonya was pleasant. "My high school French recognized the odd word here and there. Good day," she said and moved away as Grégoire seemed to be zeroing in for an embrace.
She couldn't escape and he whispered, "What's wrong, darlin'? Louisiana Hot Sauce too sizzlin' for ya, Crusader?"
Her stomach heaved at his even being this close. "Not at all," she replied quietly. "However, I do prefer the subtlety and sophistication of Béchamel, personally."
Grégoire threw his head back and laughed, making a show of putting his finger tips to his lips and made a sizzling sound as he shook them as if to cool them. "I am tha wizard!" he declared as he joined the group once again.
And then she did move away, hoping that Bryan was doing the same, because she was getting the hell away from that asshole, pronto! She sensed him behind her as his hand touched her elbow, and they wound their way out of the bar and onto the street, where Sonya virtually sucked in the fresh air.
"He's not that bad, really," Bryan began, and one look at his wife's face stopped him dead. "Well, okay, he was somewhat out of line in there."
"I'd like to talk to you about him, but let's wait till later, okay? I've had him up to here, right now," Sonya exclaimed, chopping her hand over her head for effect.
Bryan hailed a taxi and they climbed into it in silence. A car slid away from the curb as the taxi left and from the doorway of the bar, Mimi quietly watched and then pulled out a cell phone.
By the time they returned to Madame Lalonde's, Sonya was famished, over her irritation at Grégoire, and pleasantly tired. Sylvain was anxiously awaiting their arrival and his English practice. Dinner was another happy, chatty and enjoyable time. Sylvain was sent to attend to his homework and after enjoying a nice conversation with Madame Lalonde for a while, Sonya and Bryan decided to retire to their room. They had barely closed their door when noise and voices caused them to quickly return to the living room. What they saw surprised them.
Standing in the middle of the room was a tall, dark haired man, surrounded by both Madame Lalonde and Sylvain, engulfing him in a bear hug.
The man looked up at their appearance and his smile began to grow bigger. "Bryan! J'entendu dire que vous est à Paris. Bienvenue, mon ami! (I heard that you were in Paris. Welcome, my friend)"
With that, he threw his arms around Bryan in welcome. "Ah, la belle fille! (Ah, the pretty girl!) You must be Sonya. It is my pleasure to meet you," he declared with a kiss on each cheek. "Bryan is a very lucky man to have such a beautiful woman for his wife."
Bryan was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Sonya, meet Lucien Lalonde!"
So, this was the missing Lucien! There was no doubt at all that he was Sylvain's father. His glossy black hair and dark brown eyes showed Sonya a glimpse of Sylvain as a mature man, and a very handsome man at that.
Sonya snapped out of her analysis of Lucien and smiled brightly. "It is a pleasure to meet Sylvain's father. He looks so very much like you."
A look of pride flashed across Lucien's handsome face. "My son is très joli, is he not?"
Embarrassment burned Sylvain's face red, but his father simply curled his arm around his son's neck and kissed the top of his head. "You will consider this a very good thing when the pretty girls line up to date you, my son!" he smiled.
"Bedtime," Madame Lalonde announced to Sylvain. "You may visit tomorrow. Tonight is a school night!"
Neither Sylvain nor Lucien seemed to even consider arguing with Madame Lalonde. Lucien acquiesced with a shrug of his shoulders to his son. "Sleep well," he smiled, "We talk tomorrow." Sighing, Sylvain turned and trudged towards his bedroom, shoulders drooping and in a definite pout.
"It is difficult to be young, is it not?" Lucien remarked to no one in particular.
"We will leave you to your reunion," Bryan said with a smile. "Good night!"
With that, Sonya and Bryan returned to their room. "You seem to know Lucien quite well," Sonya remarked as they readied for bed. "I thought that he worked in the Middle East for months at a time."
Bryan hesitated for a fraction of a second. "He was home for an extended vacation while I was here," he replied in a somewhat nonchalant manner. "Actually, I met him through Grégoire, but I didn't want to mention it because you dislike him so much."
"I really don't like him --not at all! But Lucien strikes me as a decent sort. He obviously loves his son."
Changing the subject, Sonya asked, "So you know where we are meeting Mike and Steve for lunch tomorrow?"
"Absolutely," he replied immediately. "You will really enjoy this place, it's very Paris!"
"About today," Sonya began.
"I know, I know, Grégoire was an absolute asshole, you were right. I apologize for him. I had no idea that he was such a jerk to women," Bryan stated. "He was even starting to piss me off."
His apology took the wind out of Sonya's sails. She had been prepared to go into a long tirade about all of Grégoire's indiscretions. "Yeah he was! What does crusade mean? And why is he a wizard? And what about Mimi? Does she teach at the university as well?"
If her questions surprised Bryan, he didn't indicate so. Taking a deep breath, he began, "Crusade was a word that he used to describe our project. It was a series of oil paintings, contemporary in style, a bit subdued for my taste, but I was paid for them, and the extra credits were a major bonus. Yeah, I heard the wizard part too! I have no idea, unless of course, he considers himself magical and mythical now. He does have a somewhat over inflated ego! It didn't seem so at the time, but now that I've been away, he is, as you so eloquently put it, an asshole!"
"I've seen Mimi before, but I don't think that she teaches at the Department, at least she didn't when I was there. She could be in another faculty, though."
"At first I thought that she was Grégoire's girlfriend, but at one of the parties, he was all tanked up and crossed way over the line with her. She calmly pulled some slick judo move on him and faster than he could blink, he was flat on his back. After that, she usually showed up with some big, dark haired guy on her arm. Could have been her boyfriend for all I know, but Grégoire kept his hands to himself after that." They turned out the bedside lamp and called it a night.
Dawn coughed out a weak light around the edge of the window covering. As Sonya pulled back the curtains, she was greeted by grey, mist-laden skies. Surprised to find Bryan already gone, she hurriedly cleaned up, dressed and rushed to the kitchen, interrupting what appeared to be a very intense conversation between Lucien and Bryan.
Lucien immediately stood to refill his coffee, and Bryan's smile seemed to light the room when he spied her.
"Morning," he grinned as he got up to kiss his wife. "Coffee?" he challenged with a little snicker.
"I'd love one!" Sonya met his challenge with a lift of her eyebrows and nodded her thanks as Bryan handed her a cup of Madame Lalonde's strong coffee.
"So," Sonya began, "what were you two discussing when I came in? It looked pretty intense."
"Soccer, what else?" Lucien shrugged and lifted his hands in a very Gallic gesture.
While she wasn't about to argue with Lucien, Sony knew very well that Bryan didn't follow soccer. Her radar was fully engaged. Something was off.
Not much conversation took place during breakfast, after which, Bryan confirmed their lunch reservations and busied himself enough with either Lucien or Madame Lalonde, and it prevented Sonya from questioning Bryan about a number of things that were puzzling her.
It was obvious to her that Bryan was aware he would be queried and was avoiding that particular discussion. He had been successful in that regard, as Lucien decided to drive them to the café and dropped them off, instead of their planned walk. Sonya decided that their chat could wait until they were alone in their room that night.
The café was lovely, as Bryan predicted. They were seated, and ordered wine while waiting for their lunch companions to arrive. Sonya found it very amusing to watch the attention of the women in the café zoom in to appreciate her cousin, Mike, as he strode across the floor to greet them. And she couldn't blame them.
He was very blonde, a tall and toned man, dressed in casual clothes that emphasized his body and his good looks. Sonya hadn't had much time to spend with Mike at their wedding, so she was looking forward to catching up on the news with him.
"How's your mother?" she asked politely, knowing that he had just been in Holland to visit his mother. Ilsa had returned to her native Holland after her husband, Mike & John's father, had been killed. "Did you enjoy your visit?"
Mike's face hardened and his smile faded. "Not so much, I'm afraid. Do you remember what John revealed in July about how Steven Hunter's mother had not been truthful with him about his biological father?"
Sonya nodded. That revelation had added a new member to their family. And that man, her newly found cousin, was Steve Hunter, John and Mike's half brother.
"Well, I had a heart-to-heart with my mother while I was there. She had a little secret of her own, which Air Marshall Blackburn was going to let out whether or not she wanted it to, hence her honesty at this time. It seems that while John and I have the same mother, we do not have the same father." He took a swig of his wine, throwing it back without tasting it, his anger obviously bubbling just under the surface.
Trying not to gasp, Sonya placed her hand gently over his. "I am so sorry, Mike! Is there anything that we can do for you?" she asked with compassion.
Shaking his head, Mike took another mouthful of his wine, this time savouring its flavour a little. "I have an extremely good idea of what Steve went through now. It's like the person that you are somehow, has been taken away from you, and you don't know who or what you are."
"No question, our mothers were cut from the same cloth. No small wonder that they have remained friends for so many years. I'm amazed that they kept these secrets for so long, to be honest. But, sadly, there is nothing that anyone else can do."
"So what's the next step?" Sonya inquired kindly. "Do you have any idea who your father is? Could Ilsa at least tell you that?"
An interesting look crossed Mike's face as he answered. "In all probability, it's Steve's stepfather, Air Marshall Blackburn. At least that's what my mother said, not that I believe a word that she says anymore. Steve is going to arrange for us to meet, and we have had DNA testing done. As a matter of fact, the Air Marshall is the reason that all of this has come to light, and why I am in Paris right now."
Almost on cue, Steve Hunter appeared in the doorway of the café, smiling and waving when he spotted them. As he marched across the room towards their table, he was matched step by step by a very handsome and dignified older gentleman, ramrod straight in posture, exuding power and command in his very being.
When Steve reached the table, he embraced Sonya, shook hands with Bryan and then butted his fist against Mike's shoulder in greeting.
Then he took a step back, and placing his hand against the shoulder of his companion he began to speak, his cultured British accent seeming to suit the occasion. "I am very pleased to introduce to you my stepfather, Air Marshall Blackburn. Sir, I would like you to meet several members of my family. My cousin Sonya and her husband, Bryan, and John's brother, Mike."
The elegant gentleman's radar like eyes analyzed the entire group in one sweep, his dark lashed, steel blue eyes resting upon Mike for a millisecond longer than the rest.
"It is my very distinct pleasure to meet you," his upper-crust British accent declared. "Steven has assured me that you would not object to an uninvited guest, but I do apologize for gate crashing your reunion. Unfortunately, my curiosity overtook my sense of decorum. Please forgive me, but I was most anxious to meet you."
Sonya stood and took his hand. "You are so very welcome to join us. Please, sit!" she demanded, as Steve pulled out a chair. The Air Marshall did take his seat next to Sonya.
Mike sat where he was, somewhat mesmerized. So this man, in all probability, was his father! How different he was from the father that he had known all of his life.
What struck him, strangely enough, was how much Sonya had seemed to be so like their Gran. The entire family knew that she was identical to their grandmother in looks, but today, she seemed to be the embodiment of their grandmother's innate sense of grace and ability to read a situation. And he was so impressed. Sonya was the youngest of the many cousins, but today, she took on the air of their matriarch. Sometime when he hadn't been looking, she'd developed into quite a wonderful woman.
"It is a great pleasure to meet you," Mike finally said to Air Marshall Blackburn. "May I ask, what name do we use to address you?"
A huge smile split the older man's face, lighting his eyes until they glowed with mirth. "Dad," he quipped immediately. "Of that, I am convinced," he qualified with certainty. "My family called me Merl, short for Merlyn," he smiled. "But, my nickname is BB, which would be my preference."
While this dissertation was taking place, Steve simply sat in silence and observed as his ingrained MI5 training dictated that he should. He was seeing another side of BB that he hadn't even known to exist. And he was simply floored.
It occurred to him that BB's unusual request to join his family for lunch had been a very rare event. In a flash of insight, he saw that the venerable gentleman might have had some anxieties about meeting for the first time, the man that both he and Steve had no doubt whatsoever was his son.
Bryan broke the silence at the table by lifting his glass. "I would like to propose a toast to family, which we are all aware isn't always clear cut. It's the people that we love and those that we wish to hold dear." Glasses were raised and the lunch continued without any more awkwardness.
From Sonya's perspective, she could see both the profile of the stately BB and that of her cousin Mike, a man that she had known all of her life. With a start, she realized that they not only had the same profile, but identical dark lashed, steel blue eyes. There was no doubt in her mind whatsoever, that these men were father and son.
Her heart bled for Mike, for his pain, for this upheaval in his life, and for the hurt that his mother had heaped upon him without warning. And she was grateful that their new cousin, Steve, had facilitated this meeting. As awkward as it had been, it certainly could have been worse.
On the other side of the coin, he had a father that was sitting in front of him, an obviously patrician man, someone that Steve had described as a rigidly honest and honourable man. Truth be known, he could have done one hell of a lot worse. It could have been tragic. Ilsa could have told him that she didn't know who his father was. That would have hurt much, much more she imagined.
Their lunch lingered for hours. It wasn't forced, it simply was family enjoying each other and in the case of Mike and BB, getting to know each other, at least on a superficial level.
Saying their goodbyes, Sonya and Bryan walked home from the café, reliving some of the nicer moments of their lunch, dissecting just how difficult this had been on Mike. And on BB.
Obviously the stately gentleman appeared to be delighted to meet Mike, and Sonya thought, to be proud of the man that his son had become without him, regretting no doubt, the fact that he had been cheated of a lifetime of knowing him.
Perhaps, they would form a bond of sorts, and hopefully, something more. Mike and Steve were staying at a hotel in Paris and they all planned to connect several more times during their respective visits to the City of Lights.
"Well Sir, what did you think?" Steve asked BB.
BB thought for a few minutes as they drove along the roadway to his home. "Sonya is a stunningly beautiful woman, and she is obviously very obviously in love with her husband. I think they make a well matched pair. I wonder though, if she knows what he was up to a few years ago in Paris."
"You don't mean the Crusade mission do you? I didn't realize that he was the talent that Grégoire used," Steve replied slowly. "Please tell me that he wasn't!"
"I cannot do that Steven. He is an incredibly talented artist, and Grégoire only uses the very best in his operations, as he has his choice of the best of the best at the university. You know that. Fortunately, Grégoire never advises his artists of the end results of their travail."
"Well, shit! Do you honestly believe that the cartel won't know that one of Grégoire's artists is in France? They'll hang him by his balls if they discover that he was even remotely attached to Grégoire! Especially after the stunt that he pulled the last time. It caused them embarrassment!" Steve declared.
"Has Grégoire at least put up some firewalls and protections for him? I would hate to see either him or Sonya caught up with those goons that Grégoire deals with. Not to mention, that bastard, Grégoire, himself."
"It is my understanding that all protections are in place and that they have bodyguards as we speak. I do have to echo your opinion regarding Grégoire. Personally, I have never been able to stomach the smarmy little man. He makes my, how do the Americans say it? He makes my 'spidey sense' tingle. The only problem that we do have, is that Lucien is back."
"Why? Doesn't he know how dangerous it is for him right now? He was the intermediary in the Crusade mission, despite its failure. Hell's bells, both he and Bryan back at the same time? That spells trouble so far as I'm concerned," was Steve's reply. "I can almost smell it."
"His son is here, Steven! I am only now beginning to understand the meaning of that depth of connection, and mine has only been superficial thus far. It is a huge pull! I am only sorry that you were never able to know your father. You would have liked Ivan Toth. Please do not misunderstand. I am not saying that Paul was not a good father to you, because he was. As my best friend, I know that he did everything and anything that he felt he could for you and your mother." BB took a deep breath and exhaled.
"But?" Steve pushed.
Taking in another deep breath, BB continued, "But, I feel such a sense of betrayal, for both Ivan and Paul and as well, for you and Mike. It is a good thing that Paul is no longer here. He would have likely choked Celine. And I would not have blamed him one bit. I could barely be civil to her during our divorce. On the other side of the coin, can you tell me that this state of affairs has not affected you in a number of ways?"
Steve drove along in silence for a few minutes. "Affected. That's an interesting word! How about saying that everything that I believed I was, feels shattered. I'm learning to know an entire family -- my family -- some of whom I have only met for twenty minutes. Emotions run from flat out joy to have a large family, to a desperate search to find some firm ground upon which to re-plant my feet."
"I am so angry at my mother that I find it difficult to be in the same room with her, and that is becoming tougher as time marches on. What is worse, is her firm belief that she and Ilsa did nothing even remotely inappropriate! All they thought about was what they felt and wanted! Not only did they betray you and Ivan, they betrayed both Mike and me."
"It's going to take some time in the gym with the punching bag to get rid of some of the hostility that I feel. And, one look at Mike today, told me that he's feeling the same kind of anger. We'll have a heart to heart later back at the hotel. I think that it will do us both some good."
BB's next statement was cautious. "Given your unique insight into this matter, do you think that his anger will affect whatever relationship that he and I might be able to build?"
"Ah," Steve thought, "that was the million Euro question!" He had to be careful answering this one.
"I can't speak for Mike, only from my own point of view. If he is as angry as I am, it will be his mother with whom he's so livid. He is well aware that you were cheated in the same way that he was. If it were me in his place, I would make it a mission to get to know the man who was my father. Mike has that opportunity. I did not, which is in part, I think, some of the anger that I feel. Have you both done the DNA testing?"
"Yes, several weeks ago. I was expecting the results by now. After seeing Mike, do you really think that there is much doubt about it?" the old man challenged.
"Not in my opinion," Steve replied immediately. "And, that was my opinion back in June in Calgary when I took a really good look at him. My opinion hasn't changed since. As turn about is fair play, how do you feel about this twist of fate?"
"That is something that I have been asking myself since this became an issue. Surprisingly, I am at a loss to explain the plethora of emotions that I am experiencing. Primarily, it is one of pride. He is a fine man. I have done my research. I even have grandchildren, did you know that?"
"If the DNA results are what I believe them to be, I have a great deal to do and say in the short time that I have left here on this good earth. And, I feel a sense of urgency to do and to say it all." BB took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.
"Are you ill?" Steve asked with concern.
"Not to my knowledge," BB responded, "but I am no longer a young man."
Steve was surprised by this uncharacteristic candour. BB had never spoken this personally to him, ever, despite the length of time that BB had been married to his mother. But then again, Steve was the go-between to his son, and as such, the pragmatic side of BB would definitely use that to his advantage.
It was that very pragmatism that had assisted him to climb to the top ranks of the Royal Air Force. His rigid honesty and adherence to the rules, along with his innate intelligence, had stood him in good stead. BB had been instrumental to bring to light the issue of his own parentage when he had observed both Steve and John whilst on a mission to Gibraltar, six months previously. BB's well-honed instincts and rigid sense of honesty had been the catalyst to force his mother and then Mike's, to be honest with their sons.
It had been just after that mission, following the solving of the murders of two retired MI5 operatives when back in England, that Steve learned of BB's elevated status in MI6. Then, many things in his relationship with BB made much more sense.
Theirs had been a somewhat adversarial relationship, particularly when Steve chose to leave the RAF to join MI5. The fact that BB had married Steve's mother shortly after his father had been killed in an air crash many years ago had grated at the time, which he could now admit. There was presently much more of an alliance between them. And it pleased Steve.
Madame Lalonde's house was quiet when they arrived home, which surprised Sonya.
"I wonder where everyone is?" she speculated.
"Lucien said something about talking his mother to the market and having lunch somewhere," Bryan explained. "I think he enjoys those little things that we seem to take for granted, given that he's away so much."
Almost as he spoke, Madame Lalonde and Lucien entered through the door, laden with groceries, which Bryan hastened to retrieve from Madame Lalonde. With a smile, she led them into the kitchen to put groceries away, as Lucien began to brew some coffee. Despite the fact that she was still stuffed from lunch, Sonya sipped on a coffee and sat at the table with the others. Plans were made to do some sightseeing the following day.
Montmartre was agreed upon, and by the time that Bryan and Lucien had finished extolling its wonders, the door slammed and Sylvain rushed in, obviously having run all the way home from school. He sat at the table with them, explaining about his day, munching on some pastry that his grandmother placed in front of him.
Dinner was another wonderful, noisy and enjoyable meal. Lucien and Sylvain departed immediately afterwards, while Madame Lalonde did the dishes with unaccustomed effort.
"Where did they go?" Sonya asked curiously.
"Lucien insists that they must have some men time," Madame Lalonde replied. "In my time, boys did school work and men stayed home with the wives," she declared somewhat sulkily.
"But, since they don't get to spend much time together, isn't it nice that Lucien takes the time to spend with his son?" Sonya remarked rather guilelessly.
"That is true," Madame Lalonde responded. "However, Lucien must not keep Sylvain out late -- tonight is a school night!"
Arching his eyebrows at Sonya, Bryan stood from the table. "Bonsoir, Madame Lalonde, it has been a long day. We will go to our room now."
"Bonsoir," Madame Lalonde replied, deep in her own thoughts.
Once their bedroom door was closed, they readied for bed. "So," Sonya remarked. "You seem to know Lucien very well. Spill it, Bryan, I know you and he are friends. That just doesn't happen on a brief holiday home."
Bryan hesitated for a few seconds. "This isn't public knowledge, Sonya, but I met Lucien while I was painting for Grégoire. He's the agent that brokered the commission to someone in the Middle East. Lucien is the reason that Madame Lalonde allowed me to board here. His only request was that our liaison remained between us. I saw no reason to disagree. It was a win/win situation for me."
His explanation satisfied Sonya and they climbed into bed and as the mood struck, made love in the antique room, in the bijou two-story house in the midst of a quaint neighbourhood in the middle of Paris, the City of Love.
Morning dawned gloriously sunny, and the decision was made to go to Montmartre. Brian had the bus schedule, so they set out early and took the bus through a part of Paris that Sonya had not yet seen. Climbing down from the bus, Bryan led her across a busy road and then up a steep little street, lined with small stores.
They finally reached the top of the street where the hill levelled out somewhat. A big, beautiful church loomed on the top of the hill, but what caught Sonya's attention was a sort of large gondola, set on tracks but with aerial pulleys. Bryan called it a funicular.
Paying their fee, they climbed onto the strange little elevator, as Sonya thought of it, and then climbed the hill on an angle, stepping out at the top to a spectacular view of Paris. The church was immense, with stairs its width climbing from their level to its entrance.
Surrounding the church was a small village, with storefronts lining the narrow streets, and what appeared to be living quarters above the stores. Bryan led her to the left of the funicular landing and into a village square. In the square, artists were everywhere, their art displayed around them, as they showcased their talent by painting while tourists watched.
"This is one of my favourite café's," Bryan announced, leading her into a small restaurant. He ordered without the menu and while they sipped on wine, sat back and took in their unrestricted view of the plaza.
"Well," he asked. "What do you think?"
"I think I could live here!" Sonya smiled. "If I could bring the rest of my life too," she added. "It's just wonderful!
"Even on a rainy day," Bryan added dreamily, "it is one of my favourite places."
Their lunch arrived, and conversation ended for a while. "Oh, look, isn't that the woman from the other night at Le Cavern? What was her name, Mimi, I think," Sonya stated as she sipped on her coffee.
Bryan looked up and waved, beckoning her to join them. "Bonjour, Mimi!" he greeted. "You are a long way from the University."
Mimi looked fabulous as far as Sonya was concerned, the epitome of what she would have thought as Paris chic. From the shining cap of dark hair, big sunglasses, leather jacket and skinny jeans down to the frilly blouse, messenger bag slung across her chest and her high heeled boots, she screamed haute couture.
As she sat, Mimi smiled broadly. "I live here," she declared. "My apartment is several blocks away. I go to the city now."
"We must get back too. May we walk with you to the funicular?" Bryan asked as he took the bill to pay.
"Certainement," was the reply. "Allons-y!"
The trio leisurely walked back through the village towards the funicular, and were shortly afterwards striding down the hill towards the main road. Bryan and Sonya hurried to catch their bus, while Mimi after watching them board the bus, signalled and a car pulled up to the curb. She slid into the front seat and the driver eased into traffic again.
"Well?" The question came from the back of the sedan.
"There are two, one is Grégoire's. The other, I do not know. They are unaware of the shadow. There will be a problem, yes?"
By now, the car had come to a stop beside the curb, and she was being assisted out by a tall sandy-haired man. "We hope not," he replied. "I shall see you later," he murmured quietly into her ear.
And as Mimi walked away, she flashed a brilliant smile over her shoulder. "Do not be late!" was all she said, as she disappeared into the crowd.
"It was a stroke of genius to add Mimi to this operation, Steven. She is perfect. Congratulations on a brilliant idea!"
"Thank you, Sir," was the reply.
"And for what I am? Chop liver?" the voice of the driver joined in. "Without my permission you do not have the beautiful Mimi to help! You need the influence of her brother, even with the persuade of her man!"
"You are absolutely correct, Maurice," the voice from the back of the sedan stated. "And the Wizard graciously thanks you."
There was much joviality in the Lalonde household that night. Lucien and Sylvain had coerced Bryan to assist them to prepare dinner. Madame Lalonde and Sonya sat at the table sipping their wine, giggling and making suggestions. Dinner was edible, and the ladies left the men to clean up the mess that they had made, including warnings to wash the floor.
"That was kind of fun, wasn't it?" Sonya asked that night as they prepared for bed. "I don't think that any of you will make blue ribbon chef status," she teased.
"Nor do I want to," was Bryan's retort. "It's harder than it looks, especially when Madame Lalonde does it. Will you cook like her, oh wife?"
"Not bloody likely," she replied with a toothy grin. "You've heard the stories about how my mom didn't cook at all. And, I work full-time, remember?"
"Oh yeah," he grinned back. "This trip is turning out pretty good, isn't it?" he yawned, turning off the bedside lamp and reaching for his wife.
"It sure is," she agreed snuggling in. "I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings."
There was no school the next morning, and Sylvain took advantage of sleeping in, something his grandmother never allowed on school days. After coffee, Sonya went upstairs to check her email, just as Sylvain arrived for breakfast. Shortly afterwards, she came back into the kitchen.
"Where are the men?" she asked. "I wanted to show Bryan a really funny slideshow my cousin sent."
"They went for walk," Madame Lalonde replied with a smile. You know men like to talk. They think that what they say is most important!" she smirked, some private thought obviously entering into her mind.
"I can see this email?" Sylvain begged, "Please?"
"Sure," Sonya responded, "Come upstairs to our room, the computer's still on." Sylvan quickly followed Sonya to their room to view the email. After it was viewed, Sonya shared a funny picture joke, which sent Sylvain into gales of giggles.
They were still chuckling, when voices were heard on the road below. Sylvain recognized his father's laugh and ran to the open window to wave. Sonya stood beside him, appreciating the youngster's desire to spend as much time as he could with his father.
Lucien and Bryan looked up at the window and with a smile and a wave, began to walk into the house. It was then that a car drove down the street, screeched to a halt, and two really big men forced both Lucien and Bryan into the car. It sped away, leaving Sonya and Sylvain looking down at an empty street.
Both rushed down to the front door and threw it open, frantically looking for any trace of the car that they both had seen.
"What is the trouble?" Madame Lalonde inquired from the doorway. "Why are you on the street?"
"Granmama, men take Papa and Bryan! Ils ne sont pas ici! (They are not here!)" The youngster was almost hysterical.
"What has happen?" she demanded of Sonya, who was standing beside Sylvain, on the verge of tears herself.
"We were looking out of the window, because we heard Lucien and Bryan talking. They waved and were coming into the house, when a car came screeching to a stop, two really big men forced both Lucien and Bryan into the car and then it left! I couldn't see the license number because we were above them. The car was black, wasn't it Sylvain?"
The youngster nodded his head in agreement. "Why men take my Papa away?" he asked in barely a whisper, his eyes brimming with tears and his face glazed in shock.
"We must call the police!" Sonya exclaimed. "They have to look for Bryan and Lucien!"
Madame Lalonde glanced at her sceptically. "You are not a French citizen," she began. "You cannot just call the police and expect them to accommodate you."
Sonya was stunned. "What do you mean?" she demanded. "Your son was just kidnapped! What else would you choose to do?"
Madame Lalonde studied Sonya for what seemed to be hours, which in probability would have been a few seconds, and then took a deep breath. "There are many things to explain -- perhaps it was his company require him to return."
"So, Bryan would be included in this? What kind of company would kidnap him?" Sonya countered with vengeance, her eyes beginning to glow with anger, her body stiffening with antagonism.
"You do have point," Madame Lalonde replied after what appeared to be careful consideration. "My thought, to wait until tomorrow, to see if we hear from them."
"They were taken against their will and forced into a car! What makes you think that they will contact us, when they were taken away against their will?" Sonya replied, trying hard not to snap at Madame Lalonde, not understanding why she wasn't as upset as she and Sylvain.
"Paris is very different from your Calgary," Madame Lalonde replied. "Things happen different here."
"Does that mean that kidnapping is allowed?" Sonya retorted, becoming more and more visibly upset.
"Non, non, Chérie, it is just that you may not have all of the facts, and sometime, things are not as they appear. Of course, we call the police if you wish."
"I wish!" declared Sonya, with a defiant glint in her eye, her back ramrod straight with irritation.
"Then, Chérie, that is what we do!" Madame Lalonde declared, leading them into the house to collect her purse. Once the house was locked, she led the way to the arrondissement of the Police Department, where she calmly explained her situation to the young gendarme at the desk.
They waited in some chairs until summoned. Sonya's French was not up to the rapid fire discussion between Madame Lalonde, the policeman and young Sylvain.
When it appeared that it was her turn to speak, the policeman asked questions which Sylvain translated and then translated her answers back to the policeman in turn.
Immediately, Sonya realized that she was being viewed as a Barbie doll. Her looks had never ever, as far as she knew, been interpreted that she lacked intelligence. But today, her radar reasoned that it appeared as though this was the case. And it pissed her off.
She recalled everything that she had seen from the window, but Sonya felt that the police had dismissed Sylvain as a young kid with an overactive imagination, reading their body language as they listened to him. It appeared that by the time that the interview was over, they believed that both Sonya and Sylvain had exaggerated what they had seen. Sonya's gut feeling was that they saw two young people with an unlikely story and didn't give them any credence. Promising to look into their story, their little group was dismissed and left the arrondissement. Sonya very much doubted that anything would come of this report.
"Why won't they believe us?" Sonya demanded of Madame Lalonde. "I am not imagining this, and Sylvain and I both saw what happened. It's the truth, not some made up story. Why on earth would we make up something like this?" she demanded, beginning to show the panic that had escalated ever since Bryan had been shoved forcefully into the black sedan.
"Chérie," Madame Lalonde soothed as she placed her arm over both Sonya's and Sylvain's shoulder. "It is a most unusual story," she began. "The police have your report, but they have nothing to, how can I say, do. There is no license number, the only description is black sedan. Paris is filled of black sedans. You cannot identify the men except really big."
Sonya's eyes began to tear. "So what do we do now?" she demanded.
"We wait," was Madame Lalonde's reply. "Because there is not much information, does not mean that the police do nothing. Allons!" she demanded and keeping her hold securely on both of them, quickly walked home and locked the door securely upon entering.
"Va etudier, tout de suite! (Go study, now!)" she ordered Sylvain and then disappeared. He obeyed immediately.
Wondering where she went, Sonya discretely followed Madame Lalonde, to find her checking the house thoroughly, efficiently and systematically locking unlocked windows and checking each room completely, even the closets.
Aha! Sonya thought. So, Madame Lalonde wasn't as calm as she pretended to be. Madame Lalonde then sat into a small chair in the corner of an upstairs hallway, looked around, pulled out a cell phone and pushed a button. She spoke for perhaps forty-five seconds, terminated the call and returned the cell into her pocket. The only word that Sonya thought that she recognized was the word, "wizard". Wizard? in the middle of a French conversation? What was with the name wizard. Was this the new buzzword?
Sonya quietly slipped into her bedroom where she found the formerly open window not only closed, but locked from the inside. This was getting scarier and scarier. Where was Bryan and why hadn't he called? Instead of enjoying her honeymoon, she was all alone in a stranger's house, and in a foreign country with no one to rely upon but herself.
Tears began to stream, tears of frustration, of self pity and of fear. Once her tirade was over, Sonya washed her face and engaged her rather prodigious brain.
Taking out a writing tablet from her computer case, she began to write down all the facts that she knew, starting a separate list of the people that they had met since coming to Paris. Two, Grégoire and especially Lucien, were those that would require further investigation. What were Bryan and Lucien discussing in their little tête-à-tête's since he had returned to Paris? And what about Grégoire? Bryan had said he was someone to watch his back? Why would he need someone to watch his back?
It was impossible to stop thinking about the details surrounding the kidnapping. Sonya's mind would not stop whirling. However, it was then that she was able to sort things out, cutting out the extraneous and concentrating on the solid facts.
She would be slipping out of Madame Lalonde's house. Madame Lalonde had not been much help. If the French police wouldn't help her, she knew someone with pull that maybe could. Some forethought was needed, just in case. She dressed in casual, fashionable clothes that would allow her to blend easily into a Paris crowd.
Sonya packed her purse with both of their passports, their airline tickets and itinerary, all of the extra money, the documents envelope that was packed into Bryan's backpack, his camera and her computer. An extra shirt, jeans, underwear, cosmetics and overnight grooming essentials were next. It all fit very easily into a fashionable leather tote-bag, which had been a graduation gift from her sister, Susan.
Carefully hiding it in a corner of the closet and covering it with the navy blazer that she planned to wear, Sonya took a deep breath and stepped outside her room, quietly taking the stairs down to the kitchen.
Madame Lalonde was already there, sipping a coffee. Without a word, she poured a cup for Sonya, handing it to her before she even sat at the table. She looked very little like the chic woman that Sonya had met on her first night in Paris. Dark circles smudged her eyes, which were somewhat bleary.
"Worried?" Sonya asked.
Slowly sitting at the table, Madame Lalonde took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Oui," she replied. "Still, there is no telephone call."
"I was listening for the telephone too. What can we do other than wait?" Sonya replied.
All Madame Lalonde could do was shake her head. "Rien, nothing," was all she said.
At that moment, Sonya knew that her plan was the only option that she had. They partook in a solemn, quiet coffee, with even the usually cheery Sylvain subdued. Madame Lalonde left the room, returning in about twenty minutes, fully made up and elegantly dressed, seemingly to have shed her weariness.
"I have several appointments that I can not cancel ce matin, (this morning)," she explained. "Sylvain, I wish for you to remain home with Sonya this morning. You must promise that you will not open door to anyone. Tu comprend? (Do you understand?)" Sylvain nodded, somewhat shocked at his grandmother's warning.
With that, Madame Lalonde left the house, carefully locking up when she left. Immediately she did, Sonya rushed upstairs, put on her blazer and picked up her tote. She was almost to the door when she was intercepted by Sylvain.
"Where do you go?" he demanded. "We must remain until Granmama return."
Unable to withhold her smile, Sonya looked into the earnest young eyes of her housemate. "I have some business to attend to," she explained, hoping to bounce him off.
"You leave," he replied, his astute eyes having taken in her tote bag. Sonya did mentally note that he had seen her purse, and the tote bag was considerably larger.
"I have to spend some time in town," she replied vaguely.
"Granmama tell me I must be with you ce matin," he countered. Opening a closet, he removed a light jacket, put it on and reaching for his book bag, he dumped its contents on the floor of the closet, tossed a few articles into the bag, closed it and turned. "I am ready."
Astonished, Sonya protested, "I can't take you with me Sylvain! Your grandmother would be very angry with both of us."
"I will follow," he replied stubbornly. "I call Granmama to tell where we are."
This was a dilemma. She couldn't allow Sylvain to follow her, not after the kidnapping. He could be the next victim. And she couldn't trust him to stay and wait for his grandmother. Against her better judgement, she nodded, "Okay. But you must call your grandmother."
Sylvain nodded. "Yes. Where we will go?" he asked.
Sonya told him the name of the hotel to which she was going, and he seemed to understand. "Where can we catch a taxi?" she asked.
"You follow," he replied seriously and they left the house, locking it securely as they did.
Carefully looking around, Sylvain possessively took Sonya's arm and led her down the road a few houses, suddenly ducking into a lane and hurrying along a few hundred feet, where he turned right. Within minutes, they were on a busy roadway, with lots of traffic and pedestrians milling about. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
"What was that all about?" Sonya demanded.
"I do not wish for to be kidnap," he replied in a very grown up manner. "Je comprend ce voisinage très bien. (I know this neighbourhood very well.) We walk one block this way. There we get taxi."
"Please explain to me how two men were kidnap in broad daylight on your watch!" the controlled anger in the voice demanded.
"We believe that we were made, and that the hijackers were aware that their pickup point was our only weakness at that moment. We do not believe that those in the car were working alone. Sir!"
Silencing them with a wave of his finger, he answered his cell phone, listened for a minute and then put the cell down.
"Find them!" he ordered. "Unfortunately, I have been advise that there was no option but to inform les Gendarmes. We have only a short time before explanation must be made to those who must be obey. If my ass get kick, mes amis, yours are chop liver!"
With that, he dismissed them.
Paying for the taxi, Sonya stepped out and analyzed the Hotel Mercure. Sylvain, being a sophisticated urbanite even at his age, took little notice of the lovely building, concentrating instead on Sonya, following her into the lobby.
She picked up a house telephone, and a frown crossed her brow. "Monsieur Steven Hunter, s'il vous plait.(please)" She waited, and then left a brief, terse message before hanging up. "Steve, this is Sonya. I'm in the lobby. Please come when you get this message -- it's vitally important."
Picking up the phone again, she asked for Mike Toth, with the same results. Frustration was becoming apparent, but she left a message, hung up and took a deep breath.
"It looks like my cousins are out," she explained to Sylvain. "We can wait in the restaurant. Do you want a coffee or a hot chocolate? And we should contact your grandmother."
"Yes, we sit in restaurant. I forgot Granmama!" They took a seat at the café and ordered some hot chocolate. Sylvain took out his cell phone, quickly texting a message to his grandmother.
Sonya almost smacked her own forehead. Of course! She could text Steve, and he would receive the message immediately! Both were busy texting, when they heard someone clearing their throat next to their table. Looking up, Sonya was immensely relieved to see Mike. She almost began to cry as she rose to hug him.
"What a surprise to see you here," he began. "Is this your new boyfriend?" he smiled kindly, referring to Sylvain.
Sonya introduced Sylvain, who was eyeing Mike with suspicion. "Mike, this is Sylvain Lalonde. We are staying with him and his grandmother. Sylvain, this is my cousin, Mike Toth. Do you know where Steve is? It's really important!"
Mike's curiosity was piqued. "Where is Bryan?" he asked quietly.
With that, Sonya's eyes began to fill and a tear rolled down her cheek unnoticed. "We don't know," she whispered. "He and Lucien were kidnapped early this morning."
"Kidnapped? Lucien?" Mike repeated in a Desoto voice. "Who is Lucien?"
"Mon Papa," Sylvain solemnly replied, his eyes beginning to fill with tears.
"Sonya?" Another voice interrupted, and Sonya looked up to see that BB had almost materialized beside them. "Why the tears?" he inquired solicitously.
By now the entire situation was beginning to become emotionally overwhelming, and Sonya was finding it more and more difficult to keep the tears from flowing. Immediately, BB took her elbow, Mike paid for their hot chocolates and with Sylvain tagging along behind, they crossed the lobby and stepped into an elevator. Mike led them to his room, opened the door and their little procession stepped inside.
"Perhaps we can help," BB stated. His voice was kind, but his authority was undeniable.
With a little help from Sylvain, Sonya began to describe the kidnapping, including their visit to the police arrondissement, and then she sat somewhat heavily onto the side of the bed. Sylvain sat beside her, rather awkwardly patting her hand in a very sweet gesture to try to comfort her.
Mike was dumbfounded. BB stood at military rest, not saying much, his face inscrutable. As he stood, his cell phone signalled. In one economical motion, he flipped it open and appeared to read a text. He punched a number, listened to whatever was said and tersely ordered, "Galahad home base immediately!" And then in one motion, he flipped the phone closed.
His radar like eyes focussed upon Sonya and Sylvain. "So, young Sylvain, what is your father's name? Do you have any idea why anyone would force your father and Bryan into a car?"
In no way cowed by the obviously powerful older gentleman standing in front of him, Sylvain pulled himself into a straighter position, and still patting the top of Sonya's hand, replied. "Lucien Lalonde est mon papa," as if challenging BB to dispute it.
"Ah, merci," BB replied, his face registering a slight and very sympathetic smile. "And neither you nor your granmamma know why he was kidnapped, I take it?" Still holding onto his composure, the youngster simply shook his head.
"Well," BB continued, "I believe we must ensure that nothing like that happens to either you or Sonya or your grandmamma! I believe that it might not ..."
A knock at the door interrupted him. Mike, who throughout all of this conversation was silently taking it all in, stepped to answer the door, allowing Steve to enter.
"I received a ..." Steve stopped mid-sentence, the moment he viewed the assembly in Mike's now somewhat crowded room.
"It would appear that both Bryan and Lucien have been kidnapped in front of the Lalonde home. Sonya and Sylvain witnessed it from an upstairs window. The police have been informed," BB advised in a matter-of-fact manner.
Steve's face registered a split-second flicker of shock and surprise, returning to normal instantly. "And you have not heard anything from the kidnappers?" he queried.
"No," Sonya replied, "nothing! Madame Lalonde was so sure that someone would call, but nothing. We left while she had some appointments. Maybe someone called when we were out! Sylvain, maybe you should call her instead of texting."
Immediately pulling out his cell, Sylvain hit speed dial for his grandmother. Its ring was not answered. He then dialled her cell. Again, no answer. "She always come home at this time," his worried voice declared. "We go home, Sonya, she be worry."
"If you will give me a moment alone with Steven, I shall drive you both home. My car is downstairs and I am very familiar with Paris as I have called this city my home for decades. Mike, would you be so kind as to accompany them to the elevator? I shall be out momentarily."
Mike nodded and opened the door for the others. Neither Sonya nor Sylvan refused. It occurred to Sonya that BB was accustomed to being obeyed. Then, she remembered that he was retired from the RAF, and thought that he was definitely accustomed to being obeyed.
"How the hell did this happen?" Steve demanded testily, pacing back and forth and rubbing the back of his head. "I thought that Grégoire had taken precautions for his men."
"As did I," BB replied serenely. "He just sent a text to advise about the kidnapping and that he has every eye and ear looking for them. I am not pleased! Grégoire has a great deal to explain."
Steve took a deep breath. "You do realize that this is no longer just an operation. My family is involved, and make no mistake," he stated, looking BB directly in the eye, "I will not look the other way in this instance no matter what MI5 and MI6 wants or needs."
BB inhaled slightly, surprised at Steve's statement and his emotional response, and he obviously considered his next words very carefully. "This is an operation," he replied quietly. "We follow protocol."
"No, it is no longer the same!" Steve rebutted. "A child, a young woman and an elderly lady have been sucked into this! And may I remind you, that Bryan was a temporary stooge who was used without his knowledge. This is non-negotiable. These are not department employees! Department employees are aware of the circumstances in which they work and understand as Lucien understands, the risks. Non-employees do not!" Steve stated with emphasis. His eyes had become burning green embers in his face and his anger was escalating.
BB sucked in another breath, calmly stting, "You do not give the orders here, I do."
"Let us not dicker," Steve countered in a chillingly quiet voice, an inflexible look crossing his face. "I have options. You know that. I am here because our cases intersect into one mission. I can and I will access others if you cross me on this!"
A slow smile filtered across BB's face. "You continue to surprise me, Steven. Were I in your place, I would have said the exact same thing. As it turns out, this is also my family now and because of that, I agree with you."
This took Steve completely by surprise. He had never contradicted his stepfather, not even when he left the RAF and joined MI5, despite considerable opposition from BB. Now he knew that BB was MI6, but at that time he did not. His MI5 training came into play and he waited in silence, allowing it to force more conversation. BB had much more to lose than he did, given that his son was waiting for them at the elevator.
"We shall do whatever we can to make this unfortunate circumstance cease. The case will take second place. Are we agreed?" BB asked.
Steve held out his hand. "We are! Whatever resources I can muster, we will use."
BB shook his hand. "Mine as well. Now, let us make this happen!"
With that, he marched to the door, holding it open for Steve to follow. They joined the group at the elevator and once on the ground floor, BB requested that Mike drive with Steve. He then climbed into his Mercedes with Sonya and Sylvain and gave his chauffeur the address.
Both young people were surprised at their mode of transportation, eyeballing one another and not saying a word. The trip to Madame Lalonde's home was silent. It occurred to Sonya to wonder why BB knew the address, but today had been so strange, she was beginning to believe just about anything could, and would happen.
The Mercedes arrived at Madame Lalonde's home and all was in chaos. Police cars were parked and there were blockades. BB emerged from the Mercedes, assisted Sonya and Sylvain to step out, and then marched up to the gendarme at the blockade, flashing some sort of identification that garnered immediate attention. They were allowed passage without hesitation, Steve and Mike at their heels.
Sylvain was so upset that he ran into his home shouting his grandmother's name. What appeared to be a paramedic stopped him just short of an emergency stretcher. Upon the gurney, Madame Lalonde lay, bandaged and bloodied.
Sonya had never in her life felt more like heaving than at the moment that she saw Sylvain's face when he first spied his injured grandmother.
A firm hand gripped Sylvain's shoulder. BB quietly spoke something into his ear and Sylvain nodded. BB approached the stretcher and then whispered something into Madame Lalonde's ear. She smiled, and when BB held her hand, she visibly squeezed it. He spoke to her again and she called a police officer over.
The three of them spoke for several minutes, after which Madame Lalonde called her grandson over and hugged him as best she was able. She then spoke to him privately, gently wiping the tears from his face.
He then nodded, kissed her cheek and returned to Sonya's side, leaning against her as she encircled him in her arms. He laid his head on her shoulder, bravely watching as his beloved grandmother was loaded into an ambulance and whisked away.
BB and Steve spoke to the police officer in charge after which, they approached Sylvain and requested that he come into the house. Sylvain clasped Sonya's hand and they both entered the house.
It was a disaster. Drawers had been emptied everywhere, cushions had been dumped on the floor and bookcases overturned. Upstairs was no better than downstairs had been. Sonya and Bryan's bedroom had been absolutely trashed. Bryan's backpack had been ripped apart and every drawer and had been dumped. Their suitcases were in shreds as was Sonya's computer case.
Sylvain never let go of Sonya's hand as they went from room to room. He spoke to the officer as they entered each room, unable to tell them if something had been taken. Until the chaos was cleared, it was impossible to tell if anything was gone. His grandmother was the one that would know, and his worry about her was palpable.
Steve and BB seemed to be clearing the way with the police and within minutes, they were sitting back in the Mercedes.
The police officer that seemed to be in charge came to their car and spoke briefly with BB. With a nod of his head to the officer, BB spoke momentarily to his chauffeur and the Mercedes glided away from the nice street upon which resided the lovely home of Madame Lalonde, and then turned onto a busy road. From there, Sonya had no idea where they were, other than the fact that Steve's car was almost stuck to their bumper.
The interior of the Mercedes was silent and BB was seated in front with the chauffeur. Sonya could see his ramrod straight back and part of his profile. He said not a word, even when his cell phone rang. He simply listened and then hung up.
It broke Sonya's heart to see young Sylvain's face. He was doing his utmost to be brave, but every now and then, Sonya could almost feel him relive the vision of his injured grandmother.
"Where will they take Madame Lalonde?" Sonya asked.
"To the hospital," was BB's minimal reply.
"I would hope so!" Sonya retorted somewhat sarcastically. "Sylvain is entitled to know which hospital. She is his grandmother and his guardian! Are we going to the hospital to see her?"
Sylvain's teary eyes looked up at Sonya in what seemed to be thanks, and she squeezed his hand. Given his age, she felt that he was holding up very well. First his father's kidnapping, then his grandmother's injury and then the trashing of their home, were happenings that individually were difficult, but clustered together were a major blow.
"Was Madame Lalonde badly hurt?" Sonya continued relentlessly.
"Not too badly, she was bruised, her nose bloodied, but she was not seriously hurt otherwise. She will be checked out by a doctor and then placed in a safe house, where she will be free from fear of another attack," BB replied with what seemed to Sonya, some emphasis. Sylvain seemed to sigh in relief.
A safe house, Sonya thought. Somehow, it seemed like everyday business to BB. Truthfully, she had expected Steve to be the one taking over, given that he was MI5. Of course, she reasoned, they were in France and he was British interior intelligence and probably had no pull here. However, whatever the identification that BB had shown to the police at the Lalonde house had received immediate recognition. It was puzzling.
"So, where are we going? To see Madame Lalonde?"
"No. We are going to the safe house. She will be escorted to join us as soon as she is cleared by a doctor," BB replied, somewhat preoccupied.
Well, at least they now had an answer of sorts. A slight smile crossed Sylvain's face, and he silently let out a sigh of relief. It was then that Sonya allowed herself to actually look out of the car and view the scenery. The sun lit the lovely city of Paris, with its architecture and green boulevards. It literally glowed in the bright light of late morning.
Their little caravan continued to drive, turning here and there, and Sonya had not a clue where they were, or where they were headed. They passed through some gates and down a pretty road. Sonya felt that perhaps they were in a residential neighbourhood. Finally, their car entered a driveway and the garage door automatically lifted. The Mercedes drove in and Steve pulled his sporty little car beside the Mercedes. He and Mike climbed out and the garage door closed almost silently behind them.
The chauffeur was immediately out of his seat and around the car to open BB's door, while Sonya and Sylvain joined Steve and Mike. Then, the chauffeur opened the house door and glanced around the hallway as their little group followed him, finally arriving at a living room.
"Please make yourselves comfortable," BB requested. "Steve and I need to talk for a few minutes, but we shall be right back." With that they both left the room, step in step.
Mike sat in an armchair and watched their retreating backs. "Well, today is turning out very differently than I thought it would!" he announced. "Are you two all right?" he asked Sonya and Sylvain.
Sylvain silently nodded and Sonya was certain that he was just as confused as she was. "I'm not so sure, Mike. We still haven't heard from Bryan and Lucien. They will call the house, and there is no one there to answer," her voice wavered a bit.
"Calls are being transferred, it is all arranged," Steve reported as he entered the room. "If they attempt to contact any of you, the call will not go unanswered."
BB interrupted. "Lunch will be served in about half an hour. Maurice can show you to your rooms and you have time to freshen up."
With that, Maurice stood and walked down the hallway, obviously expecting them to follow him, which they did. He climbed a set of stairs at the end of the hallway and opened bedroom doors, indicating which one had been earmarked for each of them.
Thanking him, Sonya stepped into her room, which although small, was really most charming. It's seamlessly mismatched furniture and warm colours made it welcome and cosy.
So, she mused, the chauffeur's name was Maurice. He was a very good looking man, his dark hair and hazel eyes giving him a somewhat exotic look. He reminded her of Steve the first time that she had met him. It had been at John and Sara's, the day that the family learned that Steve was really Johnny and Mike's half brother. He had the same feline grace, and although slim, appeared to have a strength and athleticism that was not normal day to day.
Immensely relieved that she had covered all possibilities when packing her tote bag, Sonya mentally thanked her sister, Susan the world traveller, for her lessons in packing. Sonya removed the shirt and jeans from the tote bag and hung them up in the closet. She placed her tote bag under the bed, her computer upon the dresser and her overnight essentials and makeup upon the adjoining bathroom's counter, where she splashed cold water on her face.
The reflection looking back at her from the mirror seemed to be the same as it was yesterday, but today's vision held the tension of the gut wrenching worry that she held for Bryan, and for the situation that she and Sylvain were now enduring. Pulling her hair out of its ponytail, she brushed it loose, threw on some lip gloss, squared her shoulders and stepped out of her bedroom.
Sylvain appeared out of his room at the same time and they both walked down the stairs and into the living room together, surprised to find it empty. Before they could sit down, someone walked slowly and painfully into the room, with one arm in a sling.
The joy on Sylvain's face was undeniable. He ran to give his grandmother a bear hug, stopping halfway, afraid to hurt her. Realizing his dilemma, she hugged him and kissed both cheeks, leaning her forehead against his.
He then led her to the sofa, where he helped her to ease into a sitting position and then sat beside her. Not a word had yet been spoken. Watching from her spot in the hall, Sonya knew that Sylvain was having difficulty keeping in his tears.
One look at Madame Lalonde and she knew why. The stately, stylish lady had a large cut on her forehead that had been dressed with steri-strips and which was beginning to bloom in shades of blue, maroon and purple. She had bruises around her neck and moved as if in great pain.
"Madame Lalonde," Sonya exclaimed, walked over to her and knelt to take her hand. "I am so sorry that this has happened to you. Who did this?" she demanded.
"Perhaps," BB stated as he walked into the room, "we can spare Madame Lalonde from reliving this disturbing occurrence more than once and wait until everyone else is here to reveal her story. Is that satisfactory, Lise?" he asked very gently, almost as if he and she knew one another.
"Absolument," Madame Lalonde replied. "One time, c'est bien!"
With that, BB handed her a drink. What it was, Sonya had no idea, but she nodded thanks and took a mouthful, tossing it back into her throat and swallowing with what seemed to be appreciation and surprisingly, anger.
Within seconds of each other, Mike and Steve walked into the room and Maurice simply seemed to materialize out of nowhere.
As they had lunch, Sonya analyzed the people in the room around her. They were having a very civilized lunch upon the heels of the Lalonde home having been vandalized, its owner injured and two of its inhabitants having been kidnapped. What was not wrong with this picture?
"Perhaps, Lise, you would allow me to tell some of the story, the story that the police have told me. That might be less stressful for you. Is that acceptable?" BB asked. Madame Lalonde simply nodded.
BB began. "From what we know, whoever kidnapped Lucien and Bryan were looking for some data that they believed was in their possession. Obviously, it wasn't upon their person, so they came to the house to look for it. Unfortunately, Lise came into the house as they were searching for whatever it is that they were after. They tried to force her to tell them where it was, but she had no knowledge of what that was or where it was. The neighbours called the police because they heard noises and once the sirens were heard the thugs took off. Am I missing anything, Lise?" he asked solicitously.
"That is what happen," Madame Lalonde agreed, taking another somewhat indelicate slug of her drink, obviously alcohol of some sort.
"Do you know what they wanted?" Mike asked.
"Non, not for certain! I think it was memory card. We have no such thing, n'est-ce pas, Sylvain?" she asked her grandson.
"Only in my camera, Granmama," he replied. "And remember, I lend to my friend, Gerard, to take to his holiday. The card, it was empty when I give to him."
BB continued. "It was so very fortunate that Sonya and Sylvain left the house when they did as they, in all probability, would have also been injured. I am pleased beyond belief that Sonya made the decision to seek out help from Steven and Mike."
Sonya just listened. BB called Madame Lalonde by her first name, definitely not their first encounter in her opinion. The people that took Bryan wanted something, something that wasn't on his person. A memory card?
Okay, they had several memory cards with them. One was in the computer, simply stored there as a backup to the one in Bryan's camera. Perhaps, she would be doing some research after lunch in her room.
The minute that Sonya was in her bedroom, she quietly locked the door behind her and rushed over to the bureau to boot up her computer. To her surprise, her WiFi found and logged onto an unsecured network with decent strength, something that had been an issue at Madame Lalonde's. Bryan had explained to her that most folks in France used their cells for communication versus having a computer.
The first website that Sonya checked was her email. There was nothing from Bryan and other than checking for family news, she quickly exited.
Then she opened the memory card already stored in the computer. To her utter shock, it was filled with photographs that she had not previously seen. It held photos of paintings, beautiful paintings that had been shot from every possible angle.
She was certain that these were Bryan's, despite the fact that his usual work was much more contemporary and edgy. These were in a much different style of painting, still contemporary but with a familiar feel and look. Otherwise, why would he have documented them in the same way that he documented all of his paintings? Perhaps these were the paintings that he had made for Grégoire.
There were also photos of people. The only one that she recognized was Grégoire. Perhaps the other people were his fellow students and friends.
What gnawed at the back of her mind more than anything was the lack of knowledge that she had about Bryan's time in Paris. Certainly she had been more than preoccupied at the time with her grandmother's death and her parents' murders. No small wonder she hadn't kept up to date with Bryan's happenings and friends in Paris during that period. They had been in constant touch by email, but in hindsight, very little had been said about his day to day life during that time.
However, she was here now, and some instinct led her to believe that what she had in hand was the one piece of information that might be the key to Bryan's freedom. The question was what to do with it? Did she trust anyone enough to share this information? This was, after all, Bryan's life that she was dealing with.
Steve was MI5, that she knew. But he was in France. Did MI5 have any pull here? He had just been introduced as her cousin and therefore family, but she barely knew him. Was he someone that she could trust?
Sonya mulled over what she should do. Her cousin Mike was a possibility. He and his brother, John, seemed to know Steve much better than the rest of the family. But, if BB was indeed his father, would there be a pull towards him and not to her? Maybe at dinner, she would pump him for information. Maybe.
In the meantime, she would have to be careful. Certainly if all her instincts were wrong, she was no match for Maurice or Steve, should they be the enemy. Even the older BB struck her as a formidable foe.
Mike, Sylvain and Madame Lalonde were in the same position as she was, except perhaps for maybe Madame Lalonde. She obviously knew BB previously and that might be a difficulty, given that he was a dark horse, no matter how accommodating. The bottom line was that if it came down to a choice, Sylvain would side with his grandmother. Understanding the closeness she had held with her own grandmother she deduced that she was on her own.
Added to that, she had no idea whatsoever where she was. Sonya had chosen not to add the outrageously expensive roaming option to her cell phone when they left, deciding that they didn't need it on their honeymoon, especially since Bryan knew Paris so well. She certainly could have used a Google GPS map pinpointing her location right about now. If need be, she still might use it, no matter the expense.
In a flash of insight, she pulled out her cell and composed a text message to Bryan. Without disclosing anything that she knew or what had happened, she simply asked how he was and where he was, suggesting they should fly home ASAP. It couldn't hurt to try.
Now, what to do about the memory card? It was too tiny to try to hide anywhere on her person, it would be lost or damaged if out of its plastic sleeve. Pacing the floor didn't help much. It was a small room.
Finally, an idea! Before Sonya pulled the tiny memory card that held her mp3's in her cell phone, she copied the one in the computer and saved it in a folder named Art. She placed the art card into her cell phone, and put the MP3 card from the cell into the plastic sleeve and slipped that back into her computer.
Changing into her jeans and dark, long sleeved shirt, she French braided her hair out of the way and then washed her face. The cell phone was slid into her jeans pocket. It was snug enough that she would know if it moved or buzzed.
Next the passports, and then their money. Undecided about the bulky airline tickets, she made note of their retrieval code, the flight times and flight numbers on a sheet of paper, and then slipped it into the passports in her back pocket. If she and Bryan needed to leave in a hurry, she would be prepared.
A knock on her door surprised her. It was Madame Lalonde.
Ushering her into the room, Sonya helped her to sit in the bedside chair.
"Madame Lalonde, are you all right?" she asked.
"Oui! I wish to thank you for take care of Sylvain. He is just baby," she declared as tears formed in her eyes. "If he was at the house..."
Sonya knelt to hug her landlady. "He wasn't there," she stated. "But you were, and I'm so sorry that you were hurt. Is your arm broken?"
"Non! They dislocate to find memory card. I do not know where is. Mon pauvre Sylvain! If they find him..." the older lady dissolved into tears. Sonya embraced her until she was over her emotional outburst. There was absolutely nothing that she could do to help her, other than allow her to release the awful pressure and pain that she obviously felt.
"Can I get you a cup of tea?" Sonya asked.
"Non, Chérie, merci! We both are in same situation. The men that we love son perdu, lost! It is a pain that no one else can feel."
A large sigh escaped and Sonya nodded. "Yes, we are alone, I agree."
"Ah, not alone, Chérie, but in mind, there is solidarite with pain we feel. We must do something, but it is something that I do not know. Help me up, and I go to my room. We will talk at dinner."
With that Sonya assisted Madame Lalonde out of the chair and watched as she gingerly walked across the room, out the door and across the hall to her room.
Dinner was very civilized and under other circumstances, would have been absolutely divine. The dining table was perfect, the china obviously expensive and the crystal exquisite.
"Is this your house?" Sonya couldn't resist asking.
"It is," replied BB. "Is it to your liking?" he asked, swirling his wine casually.
"Most definitely!" Sonya replied lifting her wine glass in salute. "It is absolutely perfect. Thank you for taking us into your home, especially under these circumstances."
BB appeared surprised by her statement. "The pleasure is mine," he replied graciously. "My home is greatly enhanced by her guests."
Steve took a deep breath and began what Sonya believed to be a somewhat rehearsed speech. "Sonya, I need to ask, as difficult as it might be, if you can perhaps give us some insight into the people that you have met since you and Bryan have been in Paris. Of course, other than Madame Lalonde, Sylvain and Lucien."
Sonya thought for a few minutes. "The only person that immediately comes to mind is Bryan's professor while he was studying here, Grégoire. I don't even know his last name to be honest."
"So where did you meet Grégoire," Steve continued.
"At the university, just after we arrived in Paris. We met again later that day, at a bar called Le Cavern. To be brutally honest, in my opinion Grégoire is a total asshole!" Realizing that she had sworn unintentionally, Sonya blushed.
"I apologize for using rude language, but that guy really, really is a pig! Can you believe that he hit on me, not only at the university, but again at the bar? He also made some comment about Crusader and being a wizard. I dislike him so intensely, and I cannot give you a reason why. I can't understand why Bryan even gives him the time of day!"
Several eyebrows at the table rose in surprise at the mention of Crusader and wizard, but no one remarked.
"This is the only person you have met here?" Steve continued.
Sonya thought for a second. "There was a woman, Mimi. She was at the bar when we were there with Grégoire. We saw her again at Montmartre. I liked her! According to Bryan, she really rang Grégoire's bell at some party when he got totally gross with her. Flipped him flat on his back! I'll raise a glass to that lady -- she is A-okay in my book!"
Steve grinned at her. Obviously, he liked what she said. BB flitted a glance at Steve and all Maurice did was nod and take a swallow of his wine.
"You met no one else?" BB prompted.
Sonya shook her head. "Not that I can remember. We have been playing tourist, we haven't met many people other than those two. There were others at the bar, but they were just students kissing Grégoire's ass. I labelled them Grégoire's Groupies."
Maurice choked a bit on his wine, his hazel eyes sparkling in a face handsome enough that it could have been in the movies, and then he seemed to try to hide his rather large grin.
After dinner, they retreated to their rooms. Sonya checked her email and her text messages. Nothing! Damn.
Hanging her blazer on the doorknob and placing her shoes beside the bed, she lay upon the bed fully clothed, pulled the bedspread around her and closed her eyes, hoping for at least an hour or two of downtime.
Sonya woke with a start. The room was dark, and the clock read 10:30. The cell buzzed again -- a text message! Sonya fumbled to retrieve it, but she was forced to light the bedside lamp to orient herself. The message was from Bryan!
"M ok. Need 2 C U 2nite. 2:30 @ Eiffel Twr. No 1 else. Brng camra. Tak Taxi"
Okay! He was healthy enough to send a text. But, this wasn't his usual text, and he hadn't signed it with the silly little symbols that he usually did, so someone else had written it. It was, however, her only lifeline.
What now? Obviously, she would require assistance to leave this home. It was guarded by Maurice, perhaps even by others outside. What had BB called it? Ah yes, a safe house. But safe from whom? And there wasn't much time to waste.
Sonya slipped on her shoes and jacket, said a quick prayer and silently unlocked the bedroom door. A night light at the end of the hall provided enough illumination to allow her to find the stairs. Closing the door again, she pulled out the cell phone and gritting her teeth at the expense, pulled up Google maps, waiting impatiently until it pinpointed her location. Carefully writing her coordinates and the surrounding streets, she exited the map. There was no point in incurring the national debt. She could always reconnect once she left.
They weren't as far away from downtown as she had imagined. The question now, was how to get a taxi. She was definitely too far to walk. There were two cars downstairs. Steve's was a small one, it was late at night and perhaps she could navigate that one to the Eiffel Tower. It was likely her best option.
Opening the door again, Sonya quietly closed it behind her and began to tiptoe to the stairway. A hand gripped her arm. Inhaling a scream, she turned to assess her assailant, ready to do battle. Instead, she let out a deep breath. It was Madame Lalonde.
"Where you go?" she asked in a whisper. "You have hear, ne c'est pas?" she demanded.
"I'm just going downstairs," Sonya lied.
"And out of door," Madame Lalonde finished. "I smell lies very well," she stated.
Opening her bedroom door and steering Madame Lalonde into her room, Sonya closed the door and took a deep breath. "Yes, I did hear from Bryan, a text message. I don't think it was from him, to be honest, but I have no choice but to go."
"You can tell the others," Madame Lalonde suggested.
"I don't know who can be trusted," Sonya admitted somewhat tearily.
"Chérie," Madame Lalonde took in a deep breath and began, "you must trust someone. You cannot go alone! The men that take Lucien and Bryan, they are bad people. You are but a girl. If you must go, I go too. He is my son."
Tears stung Sonya's eyes as she studied the older woman standing in her room. Her forehead was swollen, discoloured and held together with steri-strips and her arm was in a sling. She most probably had bruised ribs or worse and was in a great deal of pain. Yet, there she stood, ready to do battle and to help her.
"Madame Lalonde," Sonya began. "You are hurt! You must stay here. You can't come with me!"
"How do you leave here?" the older lady demanded quietly. "You cannot walk. You do not know Paris. Do you know where we are?" she asked.
Sonya just shook her head. They were very good questions and she had no answers.
"Chérie," Madame Lalonde heaved a great sigh. "You give me one half of one hour? I find some way to have car keys and direct you to where we must go. I cannot drive, but you can. What time we meet them?"
Reluctantly, Sonya agreed. She did have to trust someone, and it might as well be Madame Lalonde. She could always ditch her if the going got tough. Madame Lalonde had been through enough physical violence already.
"Okay. Only thirty minutes and then I'm leaving, even if I have to walk. They said 2:30 at the Eiffel Tower."
"I be back in twenty minute, maybe less. I go to my room to take medicine first. I know where are auto keys. Be ready when I knock on door, oui?"
"Oui!"
"You are very certain?"
"Absuloment I am certain! Why else do I tell you? She will leave alone and you know what will happen. I must have car key and you must let us go! 2:30 at le Eiffel. I trust you to make a net for us." Madame Lalonde hung up her cell phone and crossed the bedroom to take her pain killers. Bed looked pretty inviting at this juncture.
However, old habits did die hard, and she had dealt with both pain and midnight ops before. She changed into black pants, turtleneck and cardigan. In a drawer of the bureau, she found a balaclava and stuck it inside her sling, beside the gun already resident there. It could come in handy, she presumed. On impulse, she reached into the drawer and pulled out another balaclava. Sonya's blonde hair would glow like a beacon in the dark, which would put them all in danger.
"That's exactly what the monitors recorded," Maurice reported. "The only contact points that were compromised are those two bedroom doors. "We move?"
"Yes. Advise the others, we move in fifteen minutes or less," BB ordered, already dressed in black, he stowed his handgun into its shoulder holster and covered it with a lightweight windbreaker.
"I sent Steven to back his car into the driveway. Those are the car keys that I gave to Lise. I don't want her to go, but she overruled me. If Sonya insists on going, Lise insists that she will have protection and experience on her side. It is difficult to argue with Lise once her mind has been made up."
Maurice shook his head. "She is quite the woman, Lise, non?"
"Quite the woman, indeed. But an injured one, nonetheless. I pity the men that caught her by surprise if she spies them. No doubt she inflicted some injuries of her own at the time that she was attacked, which is likely why she was injured. Even injured, she will deal them physical distress if she sees them again. It might be entertaining to watch. Just because she is retired does not mean that she is not effective," BB smiled somewhat proudly.
"Oh, by the way, I cannot stop Mike from joining our little party tonight. He is insisting, so Steve is instructing him. He has sworn to follow orders and stay out of the way. We cannot leave him here alone, he will just try to follow and screw things up. It is best to keep him close at hand. I shall get him and Sonya out of the way soonest."
"I had a call from our Slovenian friend a few minutes ago. Apparently, there is a shipment in the basement of the art department that we need to check out, rumoured to be Crusaders. By the way, do not be surprised if Igor shows up. We do owe him."
Maurice's eyebrows shot up as he holstered his gun. "Why is he interest enough to share information?"
"I suspect that Steve asked for his assistance. Igor owes him and John Toth from the Azores incident. Despite the fact that he really does not like many people, Igor has readily admitted that he does like the Toths. I am not certain if he knows anything about my relationship in the mix, but Igor's information can usually be relied upon. Ready?" Maurice nodded. "Let us roll!"
A soft knock, barely heard, caused Sonya to start. She opened the door cautiously. Madame Lalonde was standing in the hallway, all in black and looking rather chic for an injured woman. Using her good arm, she beckoned Sonya to follow her.
Immediately, they quietly descended the stairs. Madame Lalonde led the way to a side door, sliding something plastic over a spot near the top of the door, ushered them through, closed the door and pulled the piece of plastic away. It was a credit card! Sonya's brow furrowed, but Madame Lalonde placed her fingers to her lips and Sonya's question went unasked.
Handing her car keys, Madame Lalonde pointed to Steve's car, sitting innocently on the driveway. Sonya unlocked it, helped to ease Madame Lalonde into the passenger side and then took the driver's seat. It was a sweet little stick shift, and Sonya felt right at home. The engine purred quietly when she started it, shifted into reverse and backed out of the driveway. She didn't turn on the headlights until they were well clear of BB's house.
"She handles a stick shift rather well," Steve remarked to Mike, sitting behind him on the motorcycle. Both were clad in black and wearing windbreakers. When the women were far enough away, Steve booted up the bike and slid away from the house, not following Sonya and Lise, but taking a more direct path to the rendezvous. He had operatives to deploy, and Lise was going to use a lengthier route and perhaps get them lost a few times, just to delay their arrival until all was in place.
Seconds later, the garage door opened and the Mercedes emerged, taking yet another route to the Tower. The Crusaders were on the move.
Madame Lalonde directed Sonya as they made their way into central Paris and instructed her to pull into an empty parking spot in the row of parked cars along the side of the road within view of the Tower.
"It is too early," Madame Lalonde stated. "If we must play the game the way they direct, we control what we can control."
Sonya's jaw almost dropped open. "You aren't new to this are you?" she asked, realizing that this was true. "Do you work for Steve?"
With a serene smile, Madame Lalonde patted Sonya's hand, still on the stick shift. "I am retire. But, tonight, I work for Wizard, the superior to Steven. These men have take my son and invade my home!" Anger flashed in her bruised eyes. "There is no forgiveness for them! Jamais (Never)! You can trust all in the house," she continued. "We will be surround and if there is danger, you will be pull away."
Sonya began to protest, and Madame Lalonde raised her hand to stop her. "If you do not agree, we leave. You have pas de choix. Simplement!"
Oh wow, thought Sonya. Obviously Madame Lalonde wasn't nearly as calm about the kidnapping as she had assumed. What had she gotten herself into? What the hell had Bryan gotten them into? Surrounded? Steve was involved? Who the hell was Wizard? Hadn't Grégoire said that he was a wizard? She couldn't imagine that BB, Steve and Maurice were aligned with Grégoire, by their reactions at dinner alone.
Madame Lalonde touched her arm and pointed, then put her finger to her lips. A motorcycle slid quietly by with two men aboard, Steve and Mike! Following them was a Mercedes, which turned the corner and disappeared.
Now that Sonya's eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, she began to see some detail. A dark figure walked quietly past the other parked cars directly to their car and climbed in. "I'm to stay here in this car," Mike stated, "Word will be given when you can walk across towards the tower."
"How will we know, it's getting towards two o'clock," Sonya exclaimed. "I can't be late!"
Madame Lalonde pulled a cell out of her pocket. "The captors will wait for you," she declared confidently.
Sonya watched as a dark clad figure approached their position and was joined by someone with a familiar look. Steve! The figure beside him was that of a woman, dressed in what looked to be a cat suit. Mimi! They spoke for a few seconds. Steve bent to kiss her, and with a smile and a wave, she pulled on a balaclava and disappeared into the darkness. Steve pulled on a balaclava and disappeared in the opposite direction.
Maurice materialized, as did BB, who opened the car door on Sonya's side and handed something to her. "I take it that Lise explained our stipulations to you?" he asked. Sonya nodded mutely.
"This is an earpiece," he explained, handing her a small electronic device. Then, he handed her another small electronic device. "Put this into your bra. It is a receiver. Should anything go wrong, we will know where you are. If you are ordered to run, follow orders and get the hell out immediately! Return here and hide. Understood? This is for your protection."
Sonya gulped silently and nodded, taking the electronics. When she looked up again, both Maurice and BB were gone. Silently, she slid the receiver into her bra and put the earpiece into place.
"You will slowly cross the street and stand just outside the circle of light from the street lamp directly across from your present location," BB's voice was quiet.
Taking in a deep breath, Sonya received a heads up sign from Madame Lalonde and with a nod to Mike, she quietly left the car and slowly made her way across the street, hesitatingly stopping just outside the bright circle of light thrown by the street lamp.
"Well done, Sonya! Fear not, young lady, you shall be kept safe," BB's reassuring voice was heard. "Do not look quickly, but you are being approached to your left. We have allowed the contact to come to you."
As he spoke, Sonya noticed a slight movement to her left and turned to find Grégoire standing in front of her.
"The look on your face is just priceless, Darlin'! What are you doing out by yourself on such a dark night? Are you solicitin'?" With that, he laughed and rubbed himself suggestively. "I wonder what I will tell them that you charge."
BB's reassuring voice came across the ear piece. "Stay calm, Sonya. He is spouting rubbish! We want him to tell us what he wants in exchange for Bryan and Lucien and where they are being held, before we beat the shit out of him."
"Why did you lie to get me here? Bryan didn't send that text! Where is Bryan?" Sonya demanded, at a loss to think of anything else to say.
"Aw, Honey, you're gonna give me a complex! Bryan, Bryan, Bryan! You're gonna have to forget about Bryan. My friend in the Middle East has a real likin' for pretty little blonde things and he's willing to pay me big bucks to tickle his fancy. Welcome to your new home, Sugar!" he smiled and pulled out a gun.
"Turn around, and start walkin'!" The gun jabbed into her back and she reluctantly began to walk.
"We are right here," BB's calm voice reassured. "As soon as you get to the lamp post, turn right and run as fast as you can back across the street to the car. We shall deal with that SOB ourselves at this juncture."
"Four. Three. Two. One," Sonya mentally counted as they approached the lamp post. Taking in a deep breath, she suddenly veered right and without a backward glance, ran for her life.
Fear lent speed to her feet, and Sonya moved faster than she had ever believed possible. As she approached the line up of parked cars, a large man in black clothing wearing a balaclava, literally lifted her off her feet from her dead run, and continuing to run, he carried her behind the cars and into a lane between two buildings.
She was placed on her feet and before she could regain her balance, a balaclava was pulled over her head. The shock wore off, and she turned to attack. Someone grabbed her arms and stopped her. It was Mike! Or she thought it was him, his balaclava made it difficult to be certain. Was this reality, or was this a really, really bad movie?
Another balaclava-clad person with a sling patted her hand and whispered into her ear. "Your hair is bright like sunlight. We must not be see." Ah, that was why! Sonya understood now.
Then the woman pointed. Sonya looked back towards the lamp post that she had left what was merely seconds ago.
A really, really big man was standing over Grégoire, who was crumpled on the ground and appeared to be unconscious. He was arguing with someone dressed in black and balaclava clad.
"I can't let you do that!" her earpiece almost exploded.
"You vant information? I can be do! You be have no alternate. You don't vant be go to confession -- no be vatch!"
BB's quiet voice interrupted. "Galahad, might I suggest that you step aside and check on our Bride, if you would? This information is vital, and since our friend has been so very generous with his assistance, it would be unappreciative for us to deny him the information that he requires. However, I must insist that it be understood that we wish no physical harm to come to the traitor. That is not negotiable. Even we cannot dispense that justice."
"Affirmative!"
There was a short exchange between the two men. The big man then picked up Grégoire as though he was a matchstick, and slung him over his shoulder. They disappeared into the dark as the other man approached their position.
"Galahad."
"Affirmative."
With that, the man seemed to materialize beside them. "Are you okay, Sonya," he asked. She nodded and the man in the balaclava smiled. "Good! Soon, we'll know where Bryan and Lucien are being held."
About ten minutes later, BB's voice addressed them again. "We now have information about the location of the Crusaders. Galahad and la Parisienne will coordinate rescue with the Sorcerer and the Wizard. The Bonmarche group will haul that traitor's ass into custody. According to my source, he is ready to sing like a canary. You know what to do. Thank you all for a successful operation."
Madame Lalonde spiked her fist into the air. "Bien!" she grinned, pulling off her balaclava. "We have first step!"
Obviously, she was wearing an earpiece as well. "We shall meet at 0400 hours outside the University. We shall convene at the usual location. A warehouse is the target. The Bride, the Family Man and La Belle will join us."
So they had code names! If this situation wasn't so grave, it would be seriously cool. La Belle, she could see that would suit Madame Lalonde, especially as a young woman. Obviously she was the Bride and Mike was the Family Man.
It appeared that the big man with the accent had extracted some information from that little weasel, Grégoire. What had BB called him, the traitor? Hopefully, they would hang the SOB. Preferably by some tender part of his body.
Steve and Mike shed their balaclavas and climbed into the car, relegating Madame Lalonde and Sonya to the back seat. Sonya took a deep breath. This was the stuff that you saw in movies, not real life.
Wasn't that what both Sara and Susan had said about their encounters with the darker side? Extraordinary things happened to ordinary people. Here she was, this ordinary person, driving through Paris with an MI5 operative obviously working here, and a retired operative from some similar agency on a mission to find the kidnapped Bryan and Lucien. Wow, this was about as un-ordinary as it could get!
Sonya recognized the university as they approached. The car was parked and Steve ushered them out of the vehicle and into a pool of dark shadow. By the time that Sonya's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she realized that they were not alone.
BB was issuing orders, while Maurice directed their troops in various directions. Waving Steve and Mimi over, BB said something privately to them. Steve came back to their group and stood quietly for a second.
He spoke to Mike and Sonya directly. "We have information that we hope will lead us to Bryan and Lucien. La Belle will remain here to ensure your safety. You realize Lise, that you cannot come along because of your condition?" Madame Lalonde nodded. "Your assistance in ensuring that Sonya and Mike remain safe is essential. You and Sonya are here as a courtesy," Steve continued. "Please don't make me regret your presence here."
"You won't," Mike promised. "You have my word." He raised his eyebrows at Sonya.
"I'm not going anywhere," Sonya replied. "I've had enough excitement for one night. Please come back with Bryan and Lucien."
"We shall do our best," Steve promised, turned and disappeared.
"This is not how I envisioned these past few days would unfold," Mike stated casually, leaning against the building. "It sure makes life in Calgary seem pretty dull."
Sonya chuckled. "It's going to seem even duller now!" She stopped abruptly as her earpiece took life.
BB's quiet voice broke the silence. "We have information that there are two guards, one outside the door, one inside. There are no windows to breach. All action will take place at the door. The first guard will be taken silently. He has the keys to the door. Please advise when this is done." Then there was silence.
"Excellent! The inside guard is armed. If the Crusaders are indeed inside, the inside guard is to be made impotent. The Crusaders are priority."
Sonya and Madame Lalonde held their breath.
"Ah, another traitor, we are cleaning house tonight! We need to know where the Crusaders are. If not, allow our friend to speak to him -- alone."
More silence. Sonya and Madame Lalonde looked at each other both in hope and in horror. Where were Bryan and Lucien if they weren't with the guards?
Holding their breath, they waited for another broadcast on their ear pieces. They didn't wait long.
"The Crusaders are in another room and our experts believe that it is booby trapped. Our informant states that within are stored some works of art, earmarked for the Middle East."
Loud noise was heard, echoing into the earpieces. Both Sonya and Madame Lalonde winced and covered their ears. This did not bode well! Silence ensued.
BB's calm voice was heard, "It occurred to me that you would show up."
Laughter, and then another voice. "The Wizard and his Sorcerer together in one time! My plan has work. My employers will be very please! Gentlemen, shall we? Oh, and do not think that you can call your squad back from building. They do not get out alive."
"A detonator, how very original," BB's voice was acerbic. "What makes you believe that my squad is in the building?"
"Video camera, old man, video! Before they can enter to back room, we will be long past city limits." Obviously, they had begun to walk. Silence again!
Madame Lalonde's eyes grew wide and tears began to flow. Sonya slid her arms around her shoulders. There was nothing else that they could do.
Mimi and Steve materialized, rushed to the car and jumped in. Madame Lalonde tried to join them, but Steve said something to her and she dropped back, sinking to her haunches. Both Mike and Sonya helped her up, and they sat in the grass in the dark under a tree, all three leaning against its rough, aged bark.
The earpieces sprung to life. "Where are we going?" BB's voice began.
"Nowhere that you will like," the other voice replied. "My superior wish your knowledge of name and place. The van over there, walk to side door and open."
They heard a van door slide open. "Entrez!" the voice demanded. Then there was silence. Again.
At that moment, they heard a gun shot. Both Madame Lalonde and Sonya jumped, while Mike, without an earpiece viewed them with wariness. Finally, Sonya shared her earpiece with him and his eyes opened wide at what they heard. Someone then screamed. Silence again. It was chilling to hear, and terrifying not to know what was happening.
"That was very close," Maurice stated dryly. "Closer than I expect."
"It was, indeed," BB agreed. "All stations, the Black Crusader is in hand. Continue according to plan. Priority, the Artistic Crusader."
"Galahad and Parisienne, please return to our original location. Thank you for your part in flushing and capturing our enemy."
Obviously, Steve and Mimi left. "Maurice, would you mind supervising the security of the transfer and give me a moment, please?" Obviously, Maurice left.
"I thank you for your invaluable assistance," BB continued, to someone that wasn't Maurice.
"Be velcome! Vas be owe Hunter and Toth, now pay!" Sonya could almost hear the smile in the man's voice.
She could hear BB take a deep breath. "Your services, as usual, Igor, have been outstanding. Thank you. If at any time you have need of our services, you will call?"
"I vill. I be like have Vizard to be owe Igor."
Sonya thought she could hear BB chuckling. Then the earpiece went silent.
Steve and Mimi screeched to a stop, parked the car and at a dead run, headed towards the building where everyone believed that Bryan was being held captive.
"The detonator has been disarmed," Steve's voice came through the earpiece. "Usual precautions."
By now, Sonya and Mike were holding their breaths, hoping that Bryan was in that sealed room and that he would be found unharmed.
"Bring the lights over," Steve ordered. "We search every square inch, every crate."
Silence again. Sonya wasn't sure that she could hold her breath any longer. Just when she thought that she would disintegrate into tiny little pieces, the earpiece sprang to life again.
"Easy," Steve's voice was soft. "Success! The Artistic Crusader is in hand. Stand by for update."
Sonya was unaware that she had exhaled. Madame Lalonde gave her a one-handed hug. "Bien! Très bien!" She smiled, despite the fact that tears still streamed down her cheeks, which Sonya couldn't understand.
Out of the now semi-darkness, Steve materialized. "I wondered where you three had disappeared! Bryan is alive, first and foremost," he assured, giving Sonya a hug. "We are having him checked by a doctor and he will be brought to BB's place when the doctor allows. I must return. Mimi will be here shortly to drive you back."
"Who's the big guy with the accent?" Sonya was curious.
"How do you know there was a man with an accent?" Steve demanded, and then took in a sharp breath. "The ear piece!"
BB's voice came through on her earpiece. "It is unfortunate that things evolved much too quickly to remove the earpiece before you heard all that happened. I do apologize, Sonya. That was my error. Please give Steven your earpiece."
She had no option but to comply. Steve stuffed the earpiece into his pocket and with a wave, disappeared.
The little group under the tree waited for what seemed to be hours for Mimi to arrive, when in actuality it was only twenty minutes. She smiled broadly at them, assisted Madame Lalonde into the front seat of the car and then climbed into the car to drive them to BB's.
It was a silent trip. Sonya had no room in her thoughts other than that Bryan was obviously alive and possibly harmed, but alive nonetheless.
Mike's mind was all over the place. His father (and he had no doubt since he first met BB that this was the case) was an intelligence agent - a spy, and obviously, one with considerable authority. Well hell! It was going to be interesting to get to know him, to say the least.
Madame Lalonde said not a word all the way to BB's home. She sat, somewhat stoically in the car, neither looking left nor right, occasionally taking a deep breath and then exhaling, as if she were practicing yoga to control her breathing.
As they turned into the driveway, the garage door automatically rose and immediately closed behind them. The instant that they began to walk into the hallway, Sylvain ran to meet his grandmother, and with his arm around her waist, he walked step by step with her down the hallway into the living room.
He assisted her to sit onto the couch and sat beside her. He left momentarily and brought her some water, for which he earned a weak smile and a merci. Mike and Sonya took side by side armchairs and almost the moment that they sat down, a matronly looking woman appeared with what looked like a tea trolley. She handed everyone, including Sylvain a glass of amber liquid and with a smile, left the room.
Mimi raised her glass. "With thanks for the help this night. We have achieve our mission." She took a sip of her brandy and swallowed, as did almost everyone in the room. Save Madame Lalonde.
"After our brandy, we have been request to retire. The Wizard and his Sorcerer have much left to do, and will meet us here at 10:00 in the morning after breakfast." With a smile, she downed the rest of her brandy and left the room.
The remainder of the group climbed the stairs to their rooms. After everyone had enough time to get to their rooms and close their doors, Sonya quietly knocked on Madame Lalonde's door.
To her complete surprise, the door was opened by Mimi. Madame Lalonde waved her in from her seat on the edge of the bed.
"Are you all right?" Sonya asked, walking over to stand beside her landlady. For the first time, she viewed Madame Lalonde in full light, not in shadows. She appeared to have aged twenty years over the past few hours. Her swollen face was dead white against the violence of her bruises, and her eyes were rimmed red and puffy from tears.
Sonya's glance slid to Mimi, almost in accusation. "Is there anything that I can do to help you?" she asked quietly.
Madame Lalonde just shook her head. "Rien, Chérie. Merci. There is nothing that anyone can do!"
"Lucien?" Sonya stated, suddenly realizing that no one had mentioned him, and feeling guilty for her immense relief about Bryan and her selfishness in not having asked about Lucien.
"Lucien is dead, mort!" Tears began to slide down her face again, and Sonya held her as she sobbed.
Finally, Mimi patted Sonya on the shoulder. "I can assist Lise," she said, obviously picking her words carefully. "Go to bed, Sonya, you need to sleep. You will see Bryan in the morning. Bonne nuit. (Good night)" It was almost as if Mimi was kicking her out.
As Sonya exited the room, she glanced over her shoulder to see Madame Lalonde lean against Mimi and put her head upon her shoulder. Relieved that theirs was not an adversarial relationship, she closed the door. The lock clicked seconds later.
Tempted to fall into bed, Sonya took the time to take off her clothes, fold them and put them on the chair beside the bathroom. Despite her fatigue, the events of the last few hours kept rewinding in her mind. She kept trying to remember when anyone had mentioned that Lucien was dead, but she was certain that no one had. Perhaps Madame Lalonde had been signalled separately.
Exhaustion won, and Sonya was able to fall into a fitful sleep. She woke at 8:00, hurriedly hit the shower and dressed. If she was to see Bryan this morning, she would be looking her best. Taking special care with her makeup, blowing her hair dry and leaving it loose the way he liked it, she walked hopefully down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Mike was already there, sipping on his coffee and being fussed over by the matronly housekeeper, who immediately poured coffee for Sonya. Taking the coffee with thanks, Sonya sat beside her cousin.
"Some interesting night, wasn't it?" Mike stated without preamble.
"Yeah, it was pretty surreal!" Sonya admitted. "I thought stuff like that only happened in movies."
"Me too," Mike admitted. "Now I sort of understand what John and Sara went through when her dad was killed, and that guy held Sara and Ivan captive in their own house. Boy, this makes that seem kind of tame!"
Sonya reached for a piece of toast and began to butter it with strawberry jam. "It does seem like some sort of a movie -- not quite real, but definitely in 3D. I wonder how Bryan is doing? It seems to be taking a long time to be cleared by a doctor. By the way, did you hear anything last night about Lucien?" she asked as casually as she could.
"Now that you mention it, no I didn't. Have you heard anything about him?" Mike asked through a mouthful of his own toast.
Sonya nodded. "Madame Lalonde said last night after we went upstairs that he was dead! I don't know who told her that, but she was so upset. Mimi was there too."
"Oh, I didn't know! I'm so sorry for her, especially after my happiness that Bryan was found all right," Mike replied sincerely. "No wonder she was so upset last night. Does Sylvain know?"
"Oh my God, I am so selfish!" Sonya exclaimed. "All I could think about was how happy and grateful that I was about Bryan, I never gave anyone else a second thought. That poor kid!"
They both looked up as Steve walked into the kitchen. "You two look somewhat dejected," he stated as he took his coffee and thanked the housekeeper.
"Sonya just told me that Lucien was dead. Madame Lalonde told her," Mike enlightened him. "I feel so bad for her and Sylvain, given that this has a happy ending for us."
Steve raised his eyebrows. "Dead, she told you?"
Sonya nodded, her eyes tearing. "She was so very upset. I don't know what I can do for her."
"Why don't we wait until we meet with BB? I know he's home, and it's only another half an hour," Steve suggested. "He'll give you as much background as possible that isn't classified. Can you wait?" he asked pointedly.
Both nodded affirmatively.
Mimi, Madame Lalonde and Sylvain walked into the kitchen. Madame Lalonde seemed to be in better control of her emotions than the previous evening, and she sipped her coffee, smiling at Sylvain's silly banter.
Breakfast was over and the group headed to the living room, looking forward to what BB had to say. It surprised them to find the living room had been turned into a meeting room. Chairs had been added, and a screen had been pulled down from the ceiling somewhere.
Mike and Sonya were directed to seats to the right in the first row, followed by Madame Lalonde, Mimi and Steve. Maurice sat at the far left. Sylvain had been sent to do schoolwork in the library under the watchful eye of the housekeeper.
People began to file in, ordinary looking people, some young and some old, others everywhere in between. There was no one in black clothing with balaclavas. It could have been an ordinary business meeting. But Sonya knew better. Now.
BB strode in, very much in charge. "Thank you all for attending. I know how difficult it is sometimes to get away. First, allow me to say mission accomplished, thanks to the brave, hard working men and women in this room! We are all grateful! MI6, MI5 and Interpol have proven that we can work together to achieve a common goal."
"For the benefit of our guests, I shall give a brief overview and then ask them to leave while I debrief our team with the classified information. Is that satisfactory?" He raised his eyebrows at Mike and Sonya and received their affirmative nods.
"Very well then, I shall begin. We had two goals last night. One was to rescue kidnapped citizens and the second, to flush out a traitor in our midst that has eluded us until now. We were successful in both respects. When you leave this meeting, Sonya and Mike, a driver will be at your disposal to take you to the hospital where Bryan is being cared for. Do not panic, my dear, he will be fine. Our operation was successful in rescuing him from his captors."
"Secondly, we succeeded in flushing out a traitor who has eluded us in the past. He and his second in command, as well as several of their soldiers, also associated with us until now, are incarcerated as we speak. We spent some time last night debriefing them and will continue same after this meeting."
BB took a deep breath and his laser like eyes locked upon Madame Lalonde. She met his stare and locked onto it with the same intensity. "C'est nécessaire, (It is necessary)" was all she said.
"Understood," BB replied in a quiet voice, his eyes still holding hers. "But, it is my profound sorrow to cut you this deeply. You have been loyal, brave and a wonderful example to those of us in this room for decades. You make me proud to be your associate."
Madame Lalonde's eyes filled with tears and she nodded gracefully, not saying a word.
BB turned his glance towards the room. "The rogue in our ranks, the traitor that has endangered all of us and the Crusade mission, made his move last night. There is no question, there is absolutely no doubt. That traitor is Lucien Lalonde. And his lieutenant is Grégoire Benoit."
Utter silence pervaded the room. Not a sound was heard save the shocked intake of breath. And then the buzz of whispers began.
"Please," BB requested, raising his hand for a second. "We have much information to cover and if there are questions before we leave to continue our interrogation of the traitors, either Maurice or I will answer them. Acceptable?"
As there were no objections, BB continued and activating a laptop, he brought up a file. A large, contemporary painting sprang to life on the large screen in the front of the meeting.
"This is one of a series of paintings associated with the Crusade. It was part of the shipment that was intercepted. We knew that someone in our midst had leaked information to the cartel, and the mission was declared a failure."
Sonya took in a deep breath. She knew that painting! It was one of the series that had been on the memory card from their computer. Another example of the same series of paintings showed up on the screen. Slowly, her hand went to her mouth.
BB's laser gaze noted her reaction. "Sonya," he began. "Do these paintings mean anything to you?" he asked.
"May I speak to you privately for a second?" she whispered.
"Maurice, would you please continue the debriefing?" he requested, walked over to Sonya and holding her elbow, escorted her out of the room and down the hall into what seemed to be an office. He sat her down in a chair and pulled another to sit directly opposite her.
"What do you know about these paintings?" he asked, hoping not to appear too threatening.
"Nothing! Other than this," Sonya replied, pulling out her cell phone from her pocket and popping the memory card. "This was our extra memory card! Bryan put it into my computer in case we ran out of memory on the camera. The painting you showed is on this card. Others too! And people as well. Grégoire was the only one that I recognized." She said all of this without taking a breath, stopping only because she had no choice but to breathe.
BB's eyes literally gleamed like two ice diamonds. "May I?" he asked politely, holding his hand out for the card. Sonya gave it to him without hesitation. While he was loading it into his notebook, he casually spoke again. "What prompted you to put this card into your cell phone?"
"Well," Sonya replied honestly, "I had no idea that it existed, but when Bryan was kidnapped, I was looking for any clue where he might be, and opened the card in the computer. The paintings weren't his usual type, but they were his style. Then I got the text that said to bring the camera. The people at Madame Lalonde's were looking for a memory card. So I thought it was probably what they were after and it could be a bargaining chip."
"Ah," remarked BB impassively. "Did it ever occur to you to come to Steven or to me?"
Sonya shook her head. "I didn't know who I could trust by then, so I trusted me."
BB actually threw back his head and laughed. "I find no fault with your logic," he admitted. "Very interesting," he remarked, viewing the now opened card. "This will help a great deal with our interviews," he finished. "Is this the only copy?"
"No, it's not," Sonya admitted. "I made a backup copy on my computer. In case."
"In case what?" BB was still smiling.
"I don't really know. It just seemed like a good idea at the time, in case the card got lost or damaged," Sonya was honest.
"Very valid thinking," BB replied. "Are you certain that you don't want to become a spy and save the world?"
Sonya's shocked look spoke volumes and BB burst out laughing again. "May we erase the copy on your computer?" he requested. "I shall ask Steven to do it."
"Sure," Sonya replied, "I don't need or want it. But can we ask Bryan first? It is his work and photos."
"Monsieur," someone interrupted from the doorway. "The car is here."
"Thank you. Sonya, I shall send Mike out to join you. Thank you, and give our regards to Bryan." BB ejected the memory card, slipped it into a plastic sleeve and left to return to his meeting.
She met Mike as she exited the office. "I need my purse," Sonya declared, running up the stairs to her room. She was going to see Bryan. He was alive, and hopefully not too badly hurt. And, she was a happy woman.
In the back of the car on route to the hospital, Sonya thought about all that had happened in the past few days. What had begun as an exciting honeymoon trip to the City of Love had turned into something far different. Mike was quiet as well, seeming to be brooding about something.
It was with great anticipation that Sonya approached the door to Bryan's room. A man who appeared to be guarding the room, smiled and nodded as she and Mike stood at the doorway. It was exciting to finally see him again, but not knowing his condition was frightening. BB said he'd be all right. And from what she could tell, he didn't lie. Much. Unless it was a secret.
Finally, she summoned up the courage to walk into the room. Bryan was asleep, for which, Sonya was grateful. His face was bruised and cut, one eye was almost swollen shut and he had a cast on his right hand. An IV dripped into his left arm and it seemed like he'd lost weight. He had several days' worth of unshaven beard and his glasses were nowhere to be seen.
Softly, she kissed his cheek. A smile crossed his face. Sonya," he whispered. "Are you really here?"
"Open your eyes and find out," she answered, doing her best to keep her voice light and her eyes tearless.
"Hey, Babe," he smiled, having trouble to keep his eyes open. "Did they get those SOB's Grégoire and Lucien? Bastards!"
"Yeah, they did, last night. They're in jail. BB and Maurice are going back to question them again this later this morning," Sonya answered.
"BB? Mike's father? Why?" Bryan asked.
Before Mike could answer, Bryan yawned. "Dunno what they put in that IV but it sure puts me under." With that he fell asleep.
It was then, that Sonya put her head upon Mike's shoulder and let her tears fall. Bryan had been beaten, he'd been abused and there was nothing that she could do about it. It made her so very angry and yet so sad for him all at the same time.
"He will be all right," a woman's voice stated. "It will take time, but it will happen. We are grateful to find him alive."
Both Mike and Sonya turned as one, surprise only one of the emotions they portrayed. Standing before them, was a woman they would have sworn was Mimi. But it couldn't be! She was still at the debriefing! A second look confirmed that it wasn't Mimi, but someone considerably older.
The woman laughed at their reaction and pulled out a chart. "I believe you have meet my daughter, Mimi. I am Joselyn Dupont. Bryan doctor. Mimi call me last night when they find him. It was good they find him when they did. He was very dehydrate and as you can see, abuse. Two finger was broke in the right hand but they will heal very good, the break was clean."
Sonya thought she would pass out. Never had she thought that Bryan was in such grave danger. The could have's began to race through her mind.
The doctor took her shoulders and gave them a small squeeze. "Think of what is good now, not what is bad before. He will be healthy. Only a little time, that is all. He has medication to sleep. There is no pain in sleep, n'est-ce pas? He will sleep until tomorrow. Then I allow him to go with you."
Sonya gave the doctor a weak smile. "Thank you," she stuttered.
The doctor smiled brightly. "Mimi tell me that you are the cousins of Steven. Almost famille. I take care of ton mari, Chérie. Promis!" With that, she patted Sonya's shoulder and walked out of the room and down the hallway.
"There's no point in staying, Sonya, much as I understand how much you want to. The doctor is keeping Bryan under to shield him from the pain. Obviously, he had enough pain while he was kidnapped. Why don't we let him sleep? You've been through enough too. Let's go back to BB's and get some sleep. You can't do anything here."
Mike put his arm around Sonya's shoulders and manoeuvred her out of the room. The guard nodded as they left, and took up his position at the door of Bryan's hospital room. The car was waiting for them and they returned to BB's in silence.
Sonya immediately went to her room, throwing herself onto the bed, uncertain whether to laugh or to cry. Bryan looked so hurt, so bruised. And his hand, his painting hand! Broken! What would he do? Thankfully, his job directing the art gallery in Calgary didn't rely on him painting.
In the middle of having her little pity-party, there was a soft knock at the door. It opened, and Madame Lalonde came in to sit beside her on the bed.
"How is Bryan?" she asked, although, somehow, Sonya felt that she already knew.
"Bruised and broken, but Doctor Dupont assures me that he'll be just fine. They have him sedated. He may be able to come home tomorrow. I forgot to ask when he could travel back to Canada. I can do that tomorrow."
Sonya took a deep breath. "How are you?" she asked Madame Lalonde. "I cannot imagine how difficult this has been for you. I'm really sorry that things turned out this way for you."
Patting her hand, Madame Lalonde sighed. "It is a very bad dream, non? I did not know, Chérie, I did not know what it was Lucien do. To betray, to lie, to hurt a friend, to hurt me..." tears began to well in her puffy eyes. Immediately, Sonya put her arms around her landlady and they both had a little cry.
"I am very sorry," Madame Lalonde mopped her red eyes. "Lucien hurt Bryan. Can you forgive me?"
Sonya's eyes snapped open wide. "Forgive you? Why? You have been nothing but to be kind to us!"
"But, Lucien... he does bad things! He is my son," she replied.
"And he did bad things to you, as well. You cannot control someone else's actions, especially an adult, child or not! Lucien allowed those men to hurt you, his own mother! Now that is unforgivable. You were a wonderful example for him. It was his choice to follow another path!"
Madame Lalonde gave her a weak smile. "You sound just like Merl. I am very happy that you do not blame me. Thank you." With that, she kissed Sonya on both cheeks and left the room.
That conversation gave Sonya a great deal to think about. It was difficult to understand why Madame Lalonde would have blamed herself for this whole absurd scenario. Now that her shock was beginning to wear off, her curiosity was beginning to want some more answers. Shedding her pity party, she splashed cold water on her face, squared her shoulders and strode to the door.
She reached the living room to find it had been put back into place, as if the meeting had never taken place. Retracing her steps to BB's office, she found the office door locked, and no one replied to her knock. Next she tried the kitchen, where she found Mike drinking a coffee and attacking an immense sandwich.
"That looks good!" Sonya remarked, beginning to feel hunger pangs after her meagre breakfast. "Is there any more?"
Mike opened the fridge to reveal an array of sandwiches and goodies, obviously left over from the after meeting. Sonya chose a sandwich the same size as Mike's and after pouring a glass of milk, sat at the table across from him.
"So, Mike, what has you in such a funk?" she asked bluntly, knowing that something was gnawing away at him.
"Aw, a lot of things Sonya. I'm still wrapping my head around last night's happenings. Here," he handed her an envelope that had been in his shirt pocket. "Sara emailed this to me this morning. I asked her to open the envelope and send me the results if it arrived while I was here. John has the keys to my condo."
"The DNA results?" Sonya asked. He nodded. She unfolded the paper and read the verdict. "Well, what will you do now? Does BB know?"
"Things have been pretty hectic around here. I'm not sure," he replied cautiously.
"How do you feel about the results?" she asked.
Mike took a deep breath. "I'm not at all surprised. I don't think that anyone is. We have a lot of ground to cover, BB and I. The problem is, I have no idea how we will accomplish that on two different continents."
"You will find a way," Sonya reassured between mouthfuls. "If it's what you both want, and somehow, I think that it is."
She paused for a moment, carefully choosing her words. "How much of a leave did you take from your job? Can you extend it? I imagine that BB will be tied up for another couple of days with interrogating Lucien and Grégoire."
"Actually not," BB's voice interjected. "We have them dead to rights. With very little negotiation, Grégoire is singing like a canary. You are right, my dear, he really is a disgusting little slime ball. And, they are French citizens, arrested in France, so Interpol has them now."
He took a deep breath and addressed Mike. "I presume you have heard the DNA results?" Mike nodded. "We have many things to discuss, you and I. Sonya, would you mind terribly allowing my son and I to talk for a while?"
"Not at all," she smiled. "But, is it possible to get some of our things from Madame Lalonde's? Or should we move back there?"
"It would be my preference, if I may request, that you remain here. It is your choice, of course. I have asked Lise to remain here; I do not think that she is ready to be alone, even with her grandson as company," BB explained. "I have been advised that Bryan will be released tomorrow morning. It will be easier to look after him here than at Lise's home."
Sonya smiled brilliantly. "Then it's settled!"
"Excellent! After Mike and I speak, I shall drive you and Lise to the house to pack your belongings," BB declared with a smile.
Leaving the kitchen, Sonya tried not to listen to the discussion between BB and Mike. From the few words that she heard, it sounded like it would be to both their liking.
Sonya spent some time in her room, checking email and the weather at home, simply wasting time. She knew that Mike and BB required some private space, something that had been in short supply since their arrival at BB's home. In all honesty, he had been more than accommodating to them. She barely knew him and already, she had been a welcome guest in his gracious home.
The telephone at her bedside table rang. Hurriedly, she answered, wondering who would be calling her here, especially because she was somewhere that she didn't know and no one else knew where she was.
"Hello."
Bryan's voice was slurred but he was there nonetheless. "Sonya?" he mumbled.
"Hey Babe!" she replied as brightly as was possible. "I thought that you were asleep."
"Yeah, but the pretty doc said that you were here and I couldn't remember and I didn't believe her. Were you here?"
"I did indeed visit you, but you were asleep. Your doctor said that if you could sleep until tomorrow, then you could come home to me. So, sweetie, you need to sleep!" Sonya said in her brightest voice. "But, if you need me to come back to the hospital, I can be there within half an hour."
"Naw," Bryan replied, "I'm so tired I can't seem to stay awake. Nite, sweetie."
"Good night, sweetie," Sonya replied in her most positive voice.
"Nite, Darlin", Bryan replied beginning to slur his words.
Another voice came on the line. "Madame Mylowsky, this is Doctor Dupont. Bryan have fight his medication to speak with you. I will increase his dosage, but he is more calm to have speak to you already. I see you tomorrow morning. Au revoir."
Somehow, the phone call calmed her too. Bryan was coming back to her, and they were staying in a really lovely home, something that previously had totally gone without notice. BB had been a very gracious host. She would make a point to thank him when they drove to Madame Lalonde's.
A brisk knock at the door had her hopping. "Ready?" Mike asked. With a smile, Sonya picked up her purse and followed Mike down the stairs. They climbed into BB's Mercedes, and this time, he was driving.
"So, you do drive yourself!" Sonya stated.
"Oh, most definitely!" BB laughed. "Maurice was part of our cover. He is at his desk at Interpol as we speak, writing up reams of reports. I was brought in from retirement for this operation. Thus, I am now free as a bird from the paperwork. That was always the downside of a mission."
"About reports," Sonya began a little cautiously. "I have a lot of questions about all of what has happened. Will I get some answers to my questions?"
BB hesitated briefly. "Some questions can and must be answered. What is classified will remain so. I would like to wait until Bryan is home, so that we can carry on a round table and discuss it together. Is that satisfactory?"
"Absolutely!"
Madame Lalonde said nothing as they approached her pretty home. The police tape was gone, the police cars were gone, and it looked as it had before all of the craziness had begun. She pulled out her keys and opened the door, hesitant to step in. BB held her elbow and it seemed to give her the courage to walk through into her own home, the home in which she had been attacked, the home into which her son would never again be free to visit.
The mess had been tidied. No doubt, not all was in its proper place, but it probably wasn't quite as painful for Madame Lalonde to walk into a home no longer torn apart.
Sonya immediately climbed the stairs to their room. It was also tidied, but their suitcases, her computer case and Bryan's backpack were in shreds. Obviously they had been looking for the memory card. Without a word, Madame Lalonde left the room, and returned with a large suitcase.
"This will be suitable," she declared and disappeared into her own room to attend to packing her and Sylvain's immediate necessities.
Sonya finally finished packing their possessions into Madame Lalonde's suitcase and Mike hauled it out to the Mercedes, returning for the rest of the luggage.
Within an hour, they were on their way. BB parked his car and motioned for them to follow him. They were in front of a charming rural inn. About ninety minutes were spent over a pleasant late lunch and by the time they returned to the house and unpacked their bags, it was quite dark.
The telephone rang and Sonya was advised that cocktails were being served in the living room. After freshening up, she sailed down the stairs, and the moodiness and feeling of malaise were gone. She was beginning to become the happy person she had been several days previous. Had it only been a few days since all of this had begun?
The scene in the living room was a surprise. Not only were Steve and Mimi present, but so was Maurice and several others that she didn't know -- obviously without balaclavas. Seriously pleased with her decision to freshen up, soon Sonya was sipping on a wonderful Bordeaux and mingling with the other guests. It was most civilized.
The dining room was splendidly laid out, and the meal fit for a king. Course after course was served and Sonya was seriously stuffed with the fine food. Before dessert, BB asked for everyone's attention and lifting his glass in toast, he began.
"Early last spring, a mission involving my stepson, Steven Hunter, terminated in Gibraltar, where I witnessed him and his co-pilot, John Toth, in a number of unguarded moments. As a result of that encounter and a great deal of research, I had a heart to heart talk with my then wife, Celine. She revealed a truth that has been over four decades coming to light."
"The pilots in Gibraltar were half-brothers in reality, and yet total strangers until then. Steven's father was Ivan Toth, not Paul Hunter as we had all believed since his birth."
"Another part of that secret also came to light at the same time. The man who John Toth believed to be his brother for his lifetime, Mike Toth, is in reality my son. I wish to raise a toast my son, and to declare my absolute delight that this fine man is my family. I am looking forward towards getting to know him much, much better."
Stretching, Sonya gazed around her bedroom and luxuriated in the knowledge that Bryan would be joining her here, this very day. Checking the time, she quickly hurried to her attached bathroom, cranked up the shower and prepared for a very exciting day.
After dinner the previous evening, Maurice had spoken to her privately, requesting her permission to attend their round table discussion with BB. They had not been able to speak to Bryan given his poor condition when he was rescued, and both he and BB were hoping that he could answer a few questions for them.
Sonya had no problem whatsoever granting his request. She wanted the skunks that had hurt Bryan to pay and pay big time, and if this would put a few nails into their coffins, then she would be happy to provide the hammer. Hopefully, it would be a sledge hammer. But first, Bryan had to be released from the hospital. Mimi had reported that her mother was very pleased with his progress and he would indeed be released the following morning.
It had been interesting to watch Mimi and Steve in a casual situation, after their business-like mission that fateful night that Bryan had been rescued. They were, in Sonya's mind, two halves of a whole. She was aware that her cousin John's wife, Sara, had very much liked Steve and had wanted to set him up because she wished him to have a happy life. Sara needn't have worried, Steve was doing just fine by himself. And, in her very humble opinion, Mimi was perfect for him.
Extremely curious after seeing Mimi at the bar with Grégoire that night that she and Bryan had joined them, she finally gained enough courage to ask Mimi what she did, at least when she wasn't being a spy.
Mimi had laughed. "I come from un famille that was in La Résistance during the Second World War," she admitted. "We joke that it is the family business. My brother, Maurice, he ask me on some occasions to help. How I can I say non? I meet Steven on mission and I enjoy the, how do you say in English, l'excitement. It is a good complement to my business. Je suis un décorateur d'intérieur. (I am an interior decorator) I may go many place and because I have degree from la Université, I can watch Grégoire."
Ah, thought Sonya, no wonder Mimi seemed to be on the cutting edge of fashion -- or perhaps it was because she was a native Parisian. It did seem to be something that came naturally to most of the women that she had seen.
Maurice was her brother? Wow! Now that she knew, there was a family resemblance. Nonetheless, it came as a surprise, but Mimi asking Doctor Dupont to see to Bryan in the middle of the night now made perfect sense. Maybe after the round table more things would make sense as well.
Ensuring her makeup was perfect, her hair behaved properly and her outfit was not too over the top but not too drab, Sonya finally stepped out of her room. She hadn't been this nervous since the first date that she and Bryan had planned, many years previous.
"Sonya!" Sylvain's happy voice greeted her as she entered the kitchen. "I go to school today!" he exclaimed, as he tucked into his cereal. It was obvious; he was dressed in a school uniform and his school bag was sitting by the back door.
"Your school isn't close to here, is it?" Sonya asked.
"Non, now I go to new school not old one! It is premier, best in all of Paris!" He was genuinely excited, and Sonya wondered if he even knew about his father and the trouble that he was in. Somehow, she doubted it. The closeness that she had witnessed between them told her that he was blissfully unaware of the latest happenings regarding his father.
Madame Lalonde smiled softly at her grandson. "Cinq minutes, Chéri, cinq, (Five minutes, sweetie, five minutes.)" she warned, as she stood, "I meet you in front of garage." She raised her hand in a goodbye gesture and left the kitchen.
So, Sylvain was enrolled in another school, obviously private by the look of his uniform. Was this to protect him? Perhaps this was a question that could be asked at their meeting later this morning.
Inhaling her breakfast, Sonya rushed upstairs to grab her purse. BB would be her driver this morning, escorting her to the hospital and both she and Bryan back to his home. And, she reasoned, act as their protector should something go amiss.
The fact that no one in the mission, Crusades, Sonya believed was their code name, had spoken to Bryan was a little worrisome. Sonya had noticed that occasionally, like Steve, BB wore a gun under his jacket. The thought occurred to her to wonder if today would be one of those days.
BB's arrival in the foyer precluded any more pondering. They were on their way and Sonya's heart soared with joy. Today, Bryan came home and they would finally be together. Today, she and her husband would finally return to their long planned honeymoon.
BB was somewhat quiet on their drive to the hospital.
"I thought that Mike would come with us," Sonya remarked, trying to draw him into a conversation. "I have to say that, personally, I'm very pleased that you turned out to be Mike's father. His dad was dead by the time that I was born, but I have heard a lot about him through the years."
"My cousin, John, is an absolutely wonderful man and everyone says that he's just like his dad. But everyone in the family also says that Mike isn't. Although he and John look like brothers, Mike's personality is totally different -- great, but different." Sonya was beginning to feel like she was putting her foot into her mouth big time.
"I guess what I'm trying to say," Sonya attempted to clarify, "is that you and Mike are a perfect fit and I think it's just wonderful that you are in his life."
"Shut up now," Sonya silently reprimanded herself. "Just shut up!"
"How very gracious of you, Sonya," BB replied. "I have so many different emotions about the revelation that Mike is my son. The prevalent one is joy, the second is pride. He is a very fine man. I intend to get to know him much better, as much as the time I have left will allow."
"Are you sick?" Sonya asked in a panic.
BB smiled benevolently. "No, my Dear, I am in very good health for my age. But given my age, I have fewer years left than I would wish."
They walked side by side into the hospital, up the stairs and along the hallway to Bryan's room. The man that had stood guard at the doorway was no longer there. BB stopped immediately, throwing his arm out to stop Sonya.
"We have a problem," he whispered. "The guard is no longer in evidence. This is wrong. We are walking into a trap of some sort." With that, his hand clamped upon Sonya's arm and he turned abruptly into the room before Bryan's. The folks in the room looked up in surprise.
"Quel joli petit enfant!(what a beautiful baby)" BB enthused about the red-faced infant squalling in its mother's arms. "Excusez-nous, ça ce n'est pas la chambre propre," he declared. "Je les ai appellez pour le numéro propre pour nos famille. Est-ce que ça c'est acceptable avec vous? (Excuse us, this is the wrong room. I will call for the correct room for our family. Is that acceptable with you?)
"Absolument!" the young father smiled, beaming at BB's complement about his child. The people in the room, obviously proud grandparents, smiled back as if on cue.
BB never let go of Sonya's arm. He flipped his cell phone open and hit a number with his thumb. "Worst case scenario," he declared. "Instant response!" He closed his phone with a snap.
"Merci," he declared to the young people with the baby. "Bonjour!" he stated as he was guiding Sonya out of the room.
A cell phone sounded and was answered by one of the grandfathers. He said something that she didn't understand, and to Sonya's absolute surprise, almost all of the people in the room seemed to mobilize, changing from gentle grandparents into soldiers, in what seemed to be the blink of an eye.
One of the grandmothers pulled out a cell phone and after punching a few keys, brought up a picture and shared it with BB. Another grandparent closed the door to the room. The apparent father of the infant pulled out a laptop from a case on the floor and within minutes, he had acquired a video of the room next door, Bryan's room.
Sonya's joy about this day turned into a nightmare. Weren't the bad guys in jail? Why would Bryan be in jeopardy - again?
BB seemed to understand her questions despite the fact that she had not voiced them. "They want me, not Bryan. We did not realize just how much," he stated very calmly. "Obviously, I have some knowledge that they want."
Who were 'they'? More bad guys, Sonya presumed.
BB studied the video of the room in which Bryan was hospitalized. There was a man in the bed, similar in coloring and height but it was not Bryan! Sonya's eyes almost bulged, but a slight pressure from BB, whose hand was still around her arm kept her from saying a word. Her eyes questioned him, but his steady stare was enough to silence her.
"Call them," he ordered. Sonya hadn't noticed that others had joined those in the room, Maurice, Steve and Doctor Dupont as well. The mother and child had disappeared.
It was Doctor Dupont that took her hand and handed her a note. It read, "All is well. He is safe."
Sonya handed the note to BB. He quickly scanned it and returned it to her with a quick nod. "Okay," she told herself. "Take a deep breath." He was the one that she trusted now. She felt that Bryan's life depended upon it.
Then an image appeared that surprised them all. Madame Lalonde, dressed in the black outfit that was worn during the night operation, stepped into the video of the room in which Bryan had been treated. She held a gun. And it was pointed directly at Mike's head.
She said something to the man in the bed pretending to be Bryan, and he slowly stood up, backed up to the door and left the room. Immediately upon the door closing behind him, there was a knock at their door. He entered, shaking his head, his gun still holstered.
BB appeared to be absolutely in shock. His normally unreadable face was painful to watch. Maurice stepped up and touched him on the shoulder. "C'est pour moi, maintenant," he stated with empathy. "C'est pour nous autres." (This is mine This is ours.)
"I must be the one to answer her threat," BB replied. "This is about what she believes is my betrayal." BB took a deep breath. "She has always believed that Lucien was my son. He is not. DNA has proven that. She is grieving about what he has done and is looking for payback. She has chosen to extract it from me. I can give that to her. Mike should not be the one to pay for what happened so long ago."
He stepped back from the video as if to acknowledge Maurice's command. "She is not thinking clearly. This has been very difficult for her. Let me talk to her, please."
"Mon ami," Maurice began with a very soft voice. "You have very good heart, which have make you so good with your task. You think of what is best for everyone. Lise is in terrible pain, this I know. But, we cannot allow her to hurt a civilian. This is not acceptable!
"Agreed!" BB replied instantly. "But, let me negotiate with her, we have a lot of background."
"No!" Sonya stepped up. "Let me! We have been simpatico since this all began. She has no reason to hurt me. She is guilty that Lucien hurt Bryan. Maybe I can reason with her," she pleaded both for Mike and for BB.
"I have another thought," Doctor Dumont interjected quietly. "We use her grandson. No other in la monde (the world) she love more."
"I think you are correct Mama, it is good thinking. BB?" Maurice raised his eyebrows.
BB took a deep breath, trying not to look at the video of Mike with a gun to his head. He had only just met his son, and there was that much he needed and wanted to say to him before one of them died. And until now, BB believed that he would be the first one that passed away.
However, he was and always had been, a very practical and resourceful man. Had he been in charge, this would have been his choice. He had to stop thinking that the man in the other room was his son. If this situation were to be resolved without bloodshed, he had to start thinking with his head and not his heart. It had never before been a choice that he had been forced to make, and it was the most difficult one that he had ever faced.
"Your choice?" he demanded of Maurice.
"The boy," was the immediate reply. "I have send for him."
Letting out a deep breath, BB placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Were I in charge, I would decide the same thing," he agreed. "We wish for no one to be hurt, including Lise."
Nodding, Maurice picked up the telephone. It rang for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, they watched as Madame Lalonde picked up the receiver.
"Oui?" was all she said.
Maurice spoke quietly. "Lise, we wish to speak to you quietly and with our hearts."
"What heart?" she asked bitterly. "You throw one of your own in jail? You have no heart! I speak to Merl, no one else." And she hung up the receiver with a slam.
"Set up video," Maurice ordered as he answered his cell. He handed it to BB and a call was placed to the room next door, the room in which Madame Lalonde held his son hostage. The price for his freedom was still unknown.
Taking a deep breath, BB faced the screen and spoke. "Lise, I understand that you wish to speak to me."
A terrible look of anguish crossed her beautiful face. "You betrayed me, not once but twice. You do not deserve to be happy." She poked Mike with the gun. He stood absolutely still, looking straight ahead.
"Lise," BB continued. "Please look at the monitor in your room." She looked quickly around, instantly focussing upon the monitor.
"It is blank," she sneered, but the sneer turned to a look of horror, for on the monitor before her stood Sylvain and Mimi, standing in front of the hospital.
"Why is he here?" she demanded with hostility. "He is not a part of this. You promise when you sign papers that you look after him!"
"And I shall," BB stated. "But, Lise, if you continue with this and if any harm comes to Mike, Sylvain will be told the entire story, both of his father's traitorous deeds and of his grandmother's. This I promise you. And you know very well, lise, that I always keep my promises."
Lise's face seemed to crumple a little. "You would not hurt a child."
"But you will if this continues."
"He is a child, an innocent child!" she almost shouted, appearing to become hysterical.
BB was choosing his words carefully. "And for him to remain innocent about what Lucien has become is your choice! He can believe that Lucien died a hero in the Middle East or he can learn the truth. You have only these choices. Will you choose to indulge your wish to hurt me, or hurt your own grandson? It is that simple."
"Ce n'est pas simple! (It is not simple!)" Lise virtually shouted. Sonya could hear her shout through the walls from their vantage point in the room next door. Lise was becoming somewhat hysterical. She paced to and fro, never allowing her eyes or gun off of Mike.
"Lise," BB's voice could be heard. "Please put down the gun. We can talk this out between us."
For some reason, this angered her and she aimed the gun at the monitor. In a lightening fast move, Mike body checked her into the wall, her injured shoulder connecting first. Her scream of pain and the gunshot pierced the air at the same time. The gunshot went errant and buried into the wall, sending shards of plaster bursting like points of starlight over the floor.
Within seconds, the room was filled with people with guns. Lise was slumped against the wall holding her shoulder and Doctor Dupont was crouching down beside her. Someone was rolling up the sleeve on Lise's shirt and Doctor Dupont quickly cleaned a spot and inserted a hypodermic needle, dispensing some medicine. It took a few minutes, but eventually Madame Lalonde became placid, smiling at the room as if nothing had taken place.
"Are you all right?" BB asked Mike. "That was a very interesting disarming move."
"The body check? I have never body checked a woman in my life, but then again, I have never had a woman hold a gun to my head before either. She's very fragile, BB. I think that she's just snapped. All that she talked about all the way over was how her son was gone and that she had nothing left. How all of her friends had deserted her, and that she had no reason to live."
BB sighed. "She has so much more! She simply cannot see that right now. She will have no choice but to explore these feelings with professionals now. Perhaps this has happened for the best. You are certain that you are all right? Possibly, sometime, you can describe to me what a body check is?"
With a smile, Mike put his arm over BB's shoulder. "I'm fine, really I am. You do look a little pale, though" he commented. BB's laugh was somewhat hollow.
Once Madame Lalonde was placed upon a stretcher and taken away by people in white lab coats, Sonya approached Doctor Dumont. "What will happen to her?" she asked.
"We take Lise for psychiatric testing. After that, it depend on what the psychiatrists recommend. Perhaps she can be treat, perhaps not. That is not my spécialité." With a smile and a nod, she turned and began to walk away.
"Wait!" Sonya demanded. "Where is Bryan?"
Doctor Dumont stopped in mid-step. "I was not told," she admitted honestly, as she turned. "Need to know! Secret! Mes enfants (my children) are both the same, they like little secret!" Obviously, she was somewhat annoyed with them, and with the entire incident that had disrupted her hospital.
"Ask Maurice!" she declared somewhat angrily over her shoulder, as she stomped down a corridor and through some swinging doors.
Sonya was beginning to get a little pissed off. She'd had enough of being shoved into the background while grown men and women played games with their lives. She marched into the room in which Bryan had been treated, the room where Madame Lalonde had held Mike at gunpoint. The first person that she spied was indeed Maurice.
"Where is Bryan?" she demanded without ceremony. "And don't simply tell me that he is safe!"
Maurice raised his eyebrows a little. "He is safe," he replied with a Gallic shrug.
"I have been patient until now," Sonya stiffened, her eyes beginning to flash with the anger that had begun to build within her. "But, I have become very angry. I am not a chess piece in one of your hide and seek games! Neither is Bryan! As you French say, c'est fini!" With that, she sliced her arms across each other in the air with a karate type motion.
Sonya heard Mike snicker. It was a peculiar sound that he alone made, and had done so for as long as she could remember. She turned to give him a piece of her mind as well, when BB came forward to touch her arm.
"He is at the house. The sooner we leave here, the sooner we shall see him."
"Why didn't you say so?" she demanded, turned on her heel and walked out of the room. "Do I take a taxi or are you driving?"
Maurice motioned his chin towards Mike. "She always have temper like this?" he asked.
"Only when she's really pissed off, and I'd say that she has very good reason, wouldn't you?" Mike answered, beginning to follow his cousin out of the room.
"I wish to speak to you," Maurice stepped up to stop him.
"Of course, as long it's either at BB's or in my hotel room. Sonya's right, this has gone on long enough!" Mike was already on his way down the hallway behind Sonya before Maurice was able to bring his jaw back into place.
"Your relative, they have no patience," Maurice sulked. "We were almost finish."
BB's smile was broad and proud. "I do so enjoy a good bout of anger letting at times. It is so invigorating! I shall hold off on the round table until after lunch. No later. Mike is right. This has dragged on for too long already." And he was out of the door striding down the hall before Maurice could reply.
True to his word, BB marched directly to his car and they proceed to his home, stepping out of the Mercedes as the garage door closed behind them. Sonya was first through the door into the hallway and quickly stepped down the hall into the living room. It was empty.
Turning to leave, she stopped in her tracks. Walking out of the kitchen was Bryan. He was walking slowly but walking on his own. His face was an explosion of greens, purples, yellows and blues, but it was smiling at her and for her alone.
All of the anger dissipated instantly, as her arms surrounded her husband. He winced a bit and she loosened her grip slightly, but never again would she let go of him, certainly not in France! His arms surrounded her and he exhaled a long sigh.
"Hey Babe!" he whispered.
"Hey yourself!" Sonya replied. "Are you okay?"
"I am now! And I'm starved! You should smell what's cooking in the kitchen!" he smiled his crooked little grin. That sounded much more like the Bryan that she knew and loved. He was okay.
"Lunch will be in approximately forty minutes, if you wish to freshen up," BB declared.
Within minutes, the room was empty. BB walked over to a cabinet, opened it, and poured himself a stiff scotch. He swallowed it in one gulp, closing his eyes and sighing. He never again wanted to spend another morning of his life feeling the panic that he had experienced earlier. Never!
And never before, had he felt such helplessness. His entire life and career he had been in charge, the man of action, the one with his finger on the pulse of what was happening or the one making things happen.
But today, he had handed over control to someone else, someone to whom it rightfully belonged, someone who was impartial and capable of making decisions based on facts and not on feelings. It had been the most difficult thing that he had ever done in his many-storied career. And there had been many stories, most of which he wanted to share with his son over a glass of beer, or even a coffee. He felt a primeval need to share every bit of experience and advice that could be shared.
Just how to accomplish some time with his son, would be the problem. Mike had a job that could not be left indefinitely and although his grandsons were in university, it felt imperative for BB to meet them, to speak to them and to somehow include them in his life, and he in theirs.
Thirty minutes later, Mike sauntered down the stairs towards the kitchen. His mind was wandering all over the place. Usually, his mind concentrated on exactly what he dictated that it should. But since the confirmation that BB was his father, it took the greatest of concentration for him to keep his mind from wandering where it willed.
Mike liked BB as a person. He enjoyed and admired his razor sharp mind, his wit and even his sophisticated sarcasm. He was an accomplished man, obviously ruthless when need be, but with a very kind heart. He had seen that this morning, when he knew without a shadow of a doubt, that BB would have traded places with him in a heartbeat.
Not that Mike felt that it would have been necessary. He had felt strangely calm and confident that he could handle the situation. Lise was falling apart. He was aware that she had been a trained spy, and therefore probably schooled in the martial arts, but she was hurt physically, she was hurt emotionally, and she was fighting a war in her mind to justify her son's actions. It was easier to blame someone else than to face actual facts.
That, he got. These past few months of uncertainty and the trip to meet BB had been an emotional journey. It relieved his mind that he actually liked the man. Otherwise, this would have been so very difficult. The problem was to get to know him, to spend time, even if it was just to enjoy having a beer over a barbequed steak. He had to get home sometime soon, and most of the visit had been spent with spy stuff.
His father was a spy! Had he been fourteen, he'd probably have raised his fist in the air and shouted Kewel! But he wasn't. His sons were already older than that. His sons. He did need to have them meet their grandfather. Of course, they had heard stories about Ivan Toth, about his bravery, his intelligence and his good looks. All of which were true. But their biological grandfather had all of those qualities as well.
Mike's revelry was cut short, as he walked into the living room to witness BB down a shot and almost choke on it. Upon seeing Mike, BB smiled, took out another shot glass and poured two.
"I want to drink a toast to my son. You stood up so well today, you were so calm, so very in charge. I have to admit, watching was the most difficult thing that I have ever done. Someone else was in command today, and all I wanted to do was charge in and save the day. I wanted you to view me as the hero. Petty, I admit, but I wanted it anyway."
Mike laughed and threw back his shot. "Not petty. I didn't want to disappoint you! I guess that we have a great deal to learn about each other."
BB poured them each another shot. "I have a plan," he declared.
Before BB could share his 'plan', the dining room began to fill with everyone else in the house and then some. Steve and Mimi arrived, as did Maurice.
They sat to lunch and it was truly charming. It appeared that worries were forgotten, all that seemed to matter was the superb food, which Sonya vowed she would research with the housekeeper, and the good company. Everyone at the table was an interesting person. Each had great wit, and each had stories to tell. Their lunch was over in what seemed to be seconds.
Their host stood. "Unfortunately, we have business to conduct. Please join me in the living room."
The living room was different than it had been in the previous meeting. It now housed a round table, with a chair for everyone present.
"Given that this is my house and my dollar," BB stated, "I shall chair this meeting." No one objected.
"I think it is best that we begin with what Maurice requires for his investigation. Agreed?" There were no objections. I hand this meeting over to you, Maurice."
Maurice seemed stunned, but he smiled and took the lead. "We wish only to obtain whatever information we need to complete our investigation. We have proof to put Grégoire and Lucien into jail, or to the gallows. That is not our judgment. We provide the information, the court make verdict.'
Hearing it in those words made Sonya ill. Death was a consequence of treason and what those men had done was considered treason. It was horrific enough that they had beaten Bryan for information which had yet to be disclosed, but they had betrayed their country and their fellow operatives. There was no forgiveness for that, especially amongst spies. It was her understanding that they had all taken an oath to their countries. And it was binding upon death.
"Bryan, I ask you, when you were kidnap, what happen?"
"It was so sudden," Bryan answered. "We were shoved into a car, and I thought it was a joke that Lucien played on me because it was my honeymoon. It was not! It became apparent immediately that Lucien was in charge, and he began to demand answers to questions that I didn't know. Strangely enough, someone he called Serge kept prompting him. Then, he went on and on about photographs of a party. He never said where or when, just photographs that apparently I had. My hands were tied behind my back. That was when Grégoire broke my fingers."
"We drove for what seemed to be hours. They kept going on about a memory card. I asked Lucien why he hadn't just looked for himself. We were staying in his mother's house. He said that we were always gone with the camera. He did check the computer, but all the photos on it were of family and the wedding. He had almost been caught coming out of our room by his mother, so he decided to simply get the card from me. Finally, we parked, and I was dragged from the car. By then I was blindfolded and gagged. I had absolutely no idea where were."
"When we got wherever their destination was, I was thrown into a chair and a hood was put over my head. I heard Grégoire laugh. It's not something that I'd forget, as we did spend a year together and I had heard him laugh many times."
"Then I felt pain. Someone, or something hit me, I can't even tell you where, all I know is that when I woke, I was on a cold, damp floor and I heard voices. I'm sure that I passed out again, because there was no one there when I woke again. The hood was still on, but everything around me was so silent. I couldn't hear a bird, not even a cricket. I was certain that I was underground, somewhere."
By now, Sonya was in tears. Hearing about how Bryan had been so abused was more than upsetting, it was to say the least, totally offensive. Bryan took her hand and squeezed it, and then smiled at her. "It's okay, Babe, it's over now. Maybe you should go, while I continue."
"No fuckin way," was her response.
"That's my sweetie," he smiled back.
Only Mike seemed to understand their banter, everyone else almost gasped in surprise. "It's okay guys, Sonya's used the word before," Bryan smiled through his bruises.
"It was a long time before anyone came back, and I had no way to know how much time passed. There was a hood on my head and my hands were still tied behind my back, so I couldn't even look at my watch. It was probably as dark as my hood was, so I played mind games. I counted, I made up crosswords, I visualized paintings that I would paint if I lived. That kind of stuff."
"Finally, there was a sound of the door unlocking. Guys were talking and laughing. No one seemed to know that I was even there. There was a lot of scraping and the sound of dollies being unloaded."
"Then, there was silence again. It was as if I wasn't there. I must have passed out again, because it seems like I came to and drifted off a couple of times."
"The next thing I remember was a guy saying, 'Easy' and waking up to lots of lights. Then, it was lights out again." Bryan sighed. "And, that's all that I know."
Silence pervaded the room. It was a horrific story. Finally, Maurice spoke. "These people were looking for a memory card. Do you know why?"
Bryan shrugged his shoulders. "Not really! The only record that I have of my time in Paris at the University is the photos of my paintings for the Crusade project as Grégoire called it, and a party that we had at the end of the project."
"What did you do with the memory card from those photos?" Maurice asked casually.
"I have no idea," Bryan replied. "It's probably somewhere in my office at the art gallery. I have literally dozens of cards. I photograph all of my paintings from various angles. I did take one of the memory cards and put it into Sonya's computer as a backup in case we took too many photos in Paris. It is so very beautiful. Come to think of it, the card said Paris, so it seemed perfect," he smiled amid his brilliant bruises.
"Does this look familiar?" Maurice asked, turning his laptop to face Bryan.
"Yes! That is one of the paintings that I did for Grégoire. He said we had a client from the Middle East that was paying rather handsomely for a series of contemporary, original paintings. As I was a scholarship student, any extra money was a big bonus. I photographed the paintings when they were done as I would any that I sold."
"And the party?" Maurice continued.
"Just a bunch of the guys that were there when we had the wind up party. The only one that I knew was Grégoire. I was leaving for home the next morning, so I didn't party hearty like they did. I left early, maybe nine o'clock. My flight left at about six the next morning. I barely had time to grab my luggage and head for the airport. I checked in, went through security and crashed out in the waiting area."
BB stepped in. "What about Lise?" he asked. "How did today happen?"
Mike took a deep breath. "It seems rather fuzzy, to be honest. After she took Sylvain to school, she came back into the house and went to her room. I was in the library, looking up what tourists normally do in Paris, when she came in all dressed in black. She took one look at me, and it's like her eyes glazed. She left and came back with a gun. After that, we got into her car, and she told me how to drive to the hospital. She knew the room number and kept the gun on me till we got there. We entered the hospital room, then, you know what happened."
"You spoke of your manoeuvre as a 'body check'. Would you care to describe this move?" asked Maurice curiously.
"A body check?" Mike repeated, somewhat surprised. "It is a basic hockey move against an opponent, not something that I would normally use in real life, unless my life was in jeopardy. I knew that Madame Lalonde's shoulder was hurting, so I just shoved her into the wall against the shoulder that hurt. Normally, if I full body checked someone her size into a wall, they couldn't get up. My intention was not to hurt her, but to disable her gun."
"Ah," replied Maurice. "This move is involve in a sport? Le hockey, oui?"
"Yes," Mike smiled. "I coach little league hockey. I played in the minors for years, as I'm not good enough for the big leagues. But, I do know the game, and I am a very good coach."
"I have a question, many in fact," Sonya piped in. "Why were these people after Bryan for his paintings? He created them, was paid, and then left. Why the backlash?"
"It is confidential but not classified," BB began cautiously. "A mission called the Crusades was developed to help a pro-democratic movement in one of the Middle Eastern countries to access modern age technology. These paintings held in their frames, micro-thin wafers which held technology that could be used to usher this country into the modern age. The embargo on these countries denied them this technology through the open market."
"What Grégoire and Lucien did, was to also include space-age weapons technology for a terrorist faction. The mission was declared a disaster but Lucien and Grégoire continued, despite the order to abort the mission. They wanted the memory card for the photos of the people at the party. We have it now, and have used it to advantage against both of them."
"The paintings that you did, Bryan, were loaded with weapons technology, in wafers hidden between the canvas and the inside of the stretchers. The shipment was intercepted, but, they had only sent half. The other half were in the storage room that you were kept prisoner. No one knew that you were there except for Grégoire and Lucien. You would have died if Steve and his crew had not found you."
"Thank you," was all that Bryan could say as emotions took over. Sonya took his hand and they both sat in silence, grateful that he was alive.
"Why was there someone else in Bryan's bed in the hospital?" Sonya requested.
Maurice's face flushed a little and he sighed. "We sent him back to BB house with his guard. We think perhaps we can flush out some of other soldiers in Lucien gang. We did not know that you and BB were come to get him. It was gap in communication."
Maurice stood. "Thank you all. I have what is need to finish case. Merci! Un mot, BB? (Thank you! A word, BB?)" he requested. BB rose from his chair and left the room.
He was back before anyone else had left. "A moment please. I would like to make a proposal."
BB had their undivided attention. "Sonya and Bryan are in Paris to celebrate their honeymoon and Mike is here so that we can get to know one another better. The unfortunate circumstances of the past few days, has put all of that on hold."
"Steven is here because our missions crossed, and he is considering a transfer to MI6. As of this morning, I am back to retirement status, which is where I wish to remain. This creates a position for him to fill here." Mimi's smile grew with every word that BB said.
"I would like to suggest that while Bryan is recovering from his injuries and until Doctor Dupont gives him the okay to travel home, that they take the opportunity to enjoy what Paris has to offer. I have Steve on loan for another week, and I am suggesting he would be the appropriate tour guide. Mimi may wish to join you if her schedule permits."
"In the meantime, if Mike agrees, I have a villa in Tuscany that I'd like to show him. The train ride at this time of year is lovely, and is comfortable enough to allow us some privacy to converse. The villa has a car to provide us with whatever transportation needs that we might have once in Italy"
"Doctor Dupont has assured me that Bryan will be cleared to travel in a week's time. Steven has agreed to extend his leave for another week. In one week's time, Steven and I can fly you back to Calgary, if you so wish. I have a small jet that does not see nearly enough air time. Mimi has agreed to join us. Does this plan sound agreeable to everyone?" BB concluded. There was resounding agreement!
"I have one question," Sonya posed. "What happens to Sylvain?"
"He remains at his school while we are away, something that he is excited about. His grandmother had the foresight to put him into a boarding school near here. She also signed over guardianship to me, in case Lucien was able to somehow wiggle out of his charges. It would make things more difficult for him to kidnap his son. They have a good relationship and the boy loves his father, which is as it should be."
"Those in charge at the school are aware of our fear of a kidnapping, and precautions have been taken. When I return from Canada, I shall have him live here. I was sent to a boarding school as a child and it is not an ideal situation. It was a matter of out of sight, out of mind, and it would be cruel to leave him alone with his father's very life in question and with his grandmother's breakdown." A cloud of bad memories passed over his face.
"If Mike has no objection, we can leave for Italy in two and a half hours. The dining car has exceptional food," he declared.
"Well then," Mike smiled, "I will get packed! I'm looking forward to the trip. "
He left the dining room and climbed the stairs to his room. A villa in Tuscany? A private jet? He and his father did indeed, have a great deal to get to know about one another he thought, as he threw clothes into his suitcase. Was that not why he had taken this trip to Paris? Presumably, they would be returning to the house, but in case they didn't, he packed everything.
Sonya helped Bryan up the stairs at a pace that he could handle. He was physically tired, that she could easily see. Manoeuvring him into bed, she pulled the covers over him and smiled. "Get some sleep!" she ordered, kissing his cheek. "Do you have any pain medication to take?"
"Yeah," he grunted as he struggled to retrieve a pill bottle from his pants pocket with his left hand.
Reading the label, Sonya took out two pills, placed them in Bryan's hand and poured a glass of water. "Take them," she demanded. "I'll stay here until you fall asleep. Then I'll be in the library with my computer, so don't panic if I'm not here. I'll check in on you after two hours."
Bryan smiled sweetly. "Thanks, Babe. Love you." His eyes began to close.
"Love you too," Sonya replied, kissing his forehead. He was already asleep.
Collecting her laptop and a note pad, Sonya closed the bedroom door and went downstairs to the library. It was such a wonderful room! She though that perhaps it was her favourite in the entire house, all of which was in her humble opinion, exquisite.
The library was lined with dark cherry wood bookshelves, which displayed leather bound books and objet d'art from all over the world. Overstuffed chairs were set into conversation groups and a round oak table was surrounded by maroon leather chairs, at the ready for a meeting or a poker game.
Surprisingly, Sonya found the library already occupied. "Sorry," she spoke when she noted that Mimi was already ensconced in one of the overstuffed chairs.
"Come in," Mimi smiled. "I am kill time. BB and Steven 'talk!'" She rolled her eyes.
Sonya laughed. It felt good to laugh again. "Yes, they all seem to be the same. You and Steve seem to be close. Have you been friends a long time?" she asked curiously.
A slow smile spread across Mimi's pretty face. "Almost long. We meet many times because BB and Maurice have business and Steven come sometime. We begin to date, maybe three or four month ago, when he return from Canada, the first time. His brother, John and wife, Sara, they make big impression on him. He say that is time that he live life for himself, like Sara tell him. Me, I am happy what he decide."
"It looks to me like he is a happy man as well," Sonya declared. "You must be very pleased that he will move to Paris."
Mimi shrugged. "Yes that he will be here, non that at time, the business can be dangerous."
"But you were part of that operation!" Sonya declared. "You are not a spy?"
Laughter tinkled. "Moi? Non non! Sometime, I gather information, and help with a mission, but I have my own business. La joie de vivre, I like more! These people, they are too serious all the time! Maurice and Steven as well."
"So what happens when Steve begins to work here in Paris? Will he work for Maurice?"
"No," Steve's voice interjected as he walked into the room. "I am pursuing other options. Somehow, I don't think cloak and dagger is an ideal mix for good family relationships."
"I thought that BB said that you would be here because he's retiring," Sonya stated.
Steve took a deep breath. "We have had several heart-to-hearts over the past few days. There are many options here in Paris, but MI6 isn't, I'm afraid, one that I will choose. BB knows that. It was a bit of wishful thinking on his part, and his way of putting in his seal of approval."
Bryan and Sonya dined in the kitchen that night. Steve and Mimi had gone to do whatever it was that they had planned, and BB and Mike had set off on their train trip to Italy. It seemed strange to be all alone after being completely surrounded by people for the past few days.
"This is nice, don't you think?" Sonya reflected as she sipped on her glass of wine. "Who would have thought three days ago, that we'd be sitting in this kitchen having a romantic dinner in BB's beautiful home?"
"Not me!" Bryan declared immediately. "I certainly didn't think so before I was rescued. It was the scariest time of my life. I didn't know where I was, and there was absolutely no light at all. I could think about was I wouldn't see you again."
He took a sip of his wine and then twirled his glass thoughtfully. "When I was conscious, it gave me lots of time to think. It's interesting what comes to mind. It sure made me clear the clutter out of my thoughts and concentrate on what was most important to me."
"Sonya, I'm so sorry to have gotten you into all of this. I thought that Paris would be a really romantic and memorable honeymoon. It certainly is unforgettable, but not in the way that I had intended."
This statement took Sonya by surprise. "Honey, you had no idea whatsoever, that this would happen! And I thought that Paris would be a wonderful place for our honeymoon as well. Do you remember when Sara and Ivan were held hostage by that guy named Igor? OMG! Igor!"
"What's an Igor?" Bryan asked completely befuddled by his wife's reaction.
"Boy, we have a lot to catch up on! When you were kidnapped, Sylvain and I were almost hysterical. We went rushing out onto the road and Madame Lalonde came out to see what we were doing. I insisted in reporting it to the police, which we finally did, but she was very reluctant."
"Now, I know that she was going to report it to BB, but at the time, I was so pissed that she wasn't as upset as I was. When we got back from the arrondissement, she checked out every corner of the house and then called someone on her cell. The only word that I recognized was 'wizard'. She was probably calling BB or Maurice now that I think about it in retrospect."
"So, I packed up the computer, our passports, your camera and a few essentials into my tote bag, and when Madame Lalonde went out to do some errands, I tried to slip out. Sylvain caught me and insisted on coming along as well."
"It was a really good thing that he did, because Madame Lalonde returned home to find two men pulling her house apart looking for a memory card! They roughed her up and dislocated her arm looking for this damn card! And she has spy training! Sylvain and I would have been no match for them."
"In the meantime, Sylvain and I took a taxi to the Mercure where Mike and Steve were staying, because I didn't think that the police believed us. BB was there and before we knew it, he drove us back to Madame Lalonde's, where the police were already investigating the break in. After being treated at the hospital, Madame Lalonde joined us here, at BB's."
"By us, you mean everyone? Mike included?" Bryan qualified.
"Yes, everyone! BB was being chauffeured by Maurice! That was their cover, can you believe it? We became part of a cloak and dagger operation which involved three spy agencies! Anyway, I was frantic to find you, so when I was looking for clues, I opened the memory card in the computer. I knew they were your paintings, even if they weren't your usual style. I thought it might be important, so I substituted it for the mp3 card in my cell phone to keep it safe."
"I sent you a text asking how you were and finally got an answer. It wasn't you texting, I was sure about that because it just didn't sound like you, so I tried to sneak out of the house to get to the Eiffel Tower, ostensibly to meet you. Madame Lalonde caught me, but she convinced me to let her come too because Lucien was also kidnapped! It seems like I'm a failure at sneaking out of anywhere!" By now Sonya was on a roll, and took another swallow of her wine.
"Madame Lalonde went too?" Bryan asked. "She was injured, what could she do?"
"For one, she got Steve's car keys. In hindsight, she told them all what was going on, because she is one of them -- a retired one of them!" Sonya replied. "Can you believe that? I sure did when I saw her in action."
"Whoa, hold on now! Madame Lalonde was a spy? So how come Lucien was a bad guy, or do you know?" Bryan asked, rubbing his bruised chin.
Swizzling her wine, Sonya hesitated. "No idea why. At least, BB and Maurice didn't say why. He was working for Maurice too, but somehow his loyalty shifted. Money perhaps, I don't know. They never told us."
Bryan was sitting back, listening and sipping on his wine now, interested in learning the rest of what had happened while he had been all alone in the dark. His wife didn't disappoint him.
"Anyway, Madame Lalonde directed me and I drove to the tower and parked. Then, it seemed all hell broke loose. Along came Steve and Mike on a motorbike, both of them dressed in black. BB's Mercedes went by and before I knew it, BB was handing me an earpiece and a receiver and demanding that I obey his orders to run if he issued them. Well, I wasn't going to refuse! Steve and Mimi went off in different directions, both in black and wearing balaclavas."
"I approached the position that BB directed, and lo and behold, just as he advised, that swine Grégoire, materialized out of the dark. What a gross pig! Anyway, he pulled a gun on me, and BB told me in my earpiece that I was covered and that when I got to the lamp post, I was to turn right and run as fast as possible to the car."
"And I did! I ran as fast as I have ever run in my entire life. Mid-stride, some big guy picked me up and continued running and then and took me between two buildings. He put me down and someone pulled a balaclava over my head. I was so mad! I was ready to nail them, or at least land a judo chop or two! Mike and Madame Lalonde stopped me and advised me that my hair was too bright and that we had to remain unseen and to keep the balaclava on my head.
"It was then, that we looked back at the lamp post. Grégoire was on the ground and a really, really big guy was standing over him, arguing with Steve. I could hear them because I still had the earpiece. Finally, BB asked Steve to come over to where we were, and the big guy picked up Grégoire like he was nothing, which he is, and walked away with him."
"Within ten minutes they had a location where you were being held. The guy's name was Igor! I think it's the same one that was in Johnny and Sara's house, because he told BB that he owed Hunter and Toth and that now his debt was paid."
"We all rushed to the university, and I heard all of the activity on the earpiece, which BB forgot I still had. The first guard was taken out and when they got the second guard, they figured the second door was booby trapped."
"Something happened that made a huge noise and it was then, that both Madame Lalonde who also had an earpiece, and I heard Lucien say that his employers would be delighted to have both The Wizard and his Sorcerer captive. BB and Maurice! That's when Madame Lalonde started to cry. I didn't recognize Maurice's voice, but she did!"
Sonya paused for a sip of wine and to reflect on how shocked Madame Lalonde had been.
"So what happened then?" Bryan asked. This was all such a revelation to him. He had no idea that all of this had happened while he had been captive.
Sonya took a deep breath. "Then Igor stepped in again to help Maurice and BB. I don't know what he did to Lucien, but it was effective. They all rushed back to the university to get the door open. By then, they knew that it was only you in there. Steve ordered lights and every corner searched. When I heard him say that they had found you, I thought my heart would stop."
The horror of those last few moments came crashing back on Sonya, and tears began to spill. "It was awful hearing all that was going on, and not being able to do anything about it. Steve came and said that you were alive, and being checked out by a doctor. We were rushed back here. I was driven to the hospital the next morning. And the rest, you know."
Bryan stood and hugged his wife as tightly as his bruised body would allow. "Thanks for coming to save me," was all he was able to articulate, as his emotions overcame him.
BB had been absolutely correct; the train car was luxurious, the food was excellent and although each had a private sleeping room/sitting room, it was a good place to begin to get to know each other.
At first it had been incredibly awkward. During the 'cloak and dagger' stuff as Mike had begun to think of the past few days, they had been surrounded by people. First, at their initial lunch meeting and until they left BB's lovely home in Paris. They didn't know one another, and finding some common ground other than the 'stuff' was uncomfortable. They were essentially strangers. What did one say to a stranger that was your father? What did one say to a stranger that was your son?
"I believe that there is a rather large elephant in this very small room," BB declared as he pulled out an expensive bottle of old scotch. "Perhaps, we need some help to loosen up our interactive skills." He poured them each a glass and lifted his in toast.
"I am looking forward to learning as much as I can about you and your lifetime in this short trip. I am not a young man. I do not have the luxury of decades in which to embrace the fact that I have a son, even though that thought gives me a great deal of joy." He took a sip of his scotch and continued. "The truth is, Mike, that I have rehearsed these first few words countless times, and I do not seem to be able to express myself very eloquently."
Mike took a sip of the wonderful old scotch and listened. BB's revelation surprised him. It never occurred to him that the self-assured, accomplished man in front of him could be nervous. He took a deep breath.
"I will be honest," he began, "I have been debating what and how I would say what I think that we both need to discuss. The truth is I'm not even certain what that is, or should be. I am very happy not only to meet you, but to get to know you."
"And yet, I am so angry! I'm angry with my mother, with her little secrets, and with the way that she and Steve's mother screwed around with our lives. It is as though we, the men that we became, were inconsequential. What they did has changed a great deal inside of me, and I'm not even certain that I know what it is yet."
"A good point to begin," BB stated as he sat back into his chair and swirled his drink. "I will admit that I have a tremendous amount of anger towards your mother as well. She knew very well how much I have always wanted a family of my own. I was one of those British children that was raised by nanny's and trotted out to company in Sunday dress, and then trotted back to the children's wing to be unseen and unheard."
"I was shipped off to boarding school at a very young age. Perhaps, that is where I learned self-discipline and to never show emotion. In that situation, it stood me in good stead. It certainly did in the Air Force," he smiled at that thought.
"The first time that my father even acknowledged my existence, was the night that I worked up enough courage to tell him that the RAF was where I wanted to be. He was furious! First, that I would do something so 'rash' without his permission, and secondly, that I chose not to go into the family firm of barristers. Since I was not of the age of majority, a compromise was struck."
"I would continue my education and once graduated, the discussion would take place again regarding the RAF. In retrospect, my father acted and argued the same as he would have a court case, which was what he knew. He had no idea how to reach out emotionally. Unfortunately, that was the height of emotion that our relationship ever took. Sad, really."
Mike sighed, "That really is sad. Why did they even have children if they didn't want them?"
"Appearances, my boy, appearances. Those in a certain socio-economic class did things that way. My mother was not a cold woman, she simply had no idea how to deal with us. It was easier to go with the flow as they say, and hire staff to raise my brother and I. I did finish university, and I did join the RAF! The war had broken out by then, and there was no arguing my choice. I was sent to a training school in Brandon, Manitoba in Canada to learn to fly. It was the safest place from the Germans."
"My uncle Stefan taught flying in Brandon at that time!" Mike exclaimed. "You must have run into him!"
"Ivan said the same thing, and apparently, I was there after he was injured training a young pilot that crashed their aircraft. I must say that I'm sorry to never have had the opportunity to meet him," BB answered.
"Unfortunately, my brother, your uncle, was killed in France on an operation. It was my mother's undoing. Sadly, she was never the same again. My father wanted to fly her to Canada for the duration of the war, but she wouldn't hear of it. To her credit, she worked for the Red Cross during the war, helping those that were injured."
With that he pulled out some photos from a briefcase. "These, Mike are your grandparents and my brother," he said, handing Mike the photos. His grandparents were handsome people. His grandmother was a stunning brunette, superbly dressed and posed as was done in old photographs of this vintage. His grandfather was blonde, and had his hand resting possessively on his wife's shoulder. Beside them, were two young men. BB, he recognized immediately, the brother was slightly different, but their family resemblance rested in the eyes. His grandfather, BB, and his uncle had the very same eyes. As did he. It was uncanny.
"It was after the war, when I was stationed in Germany, that I met Ivan Toth. My lifelong friend from boarding school, Paul Hunter, was also stationed there. Paul, Ivan and I were, for lack of a better word, gadabouts! We definitely sowed our wild oats. Then we met your mother and Steven's."
"I often wonder, what would have happened if they had been honest with the three of us, instead of taking matters into their own hands. We shall never know, shall we? So, my son, as a result of their actions, here we sit on a train, trying to assimilate a lifetime's worth of knowledge about each other." BB took a long drink, sat back and swallowed his scotch.
"It's in my court now," thought Mike. "What do I say? How do I say it? Where do I start?" Deciding to take a page out of BB's book, Mike pulled out his computer. "I sifted through a bunch of family photos and made a file for you to see and to have, if you wish."
Once the computer was up and running, he selected the file and shifted his chair closer to BB's to show him the pictorial, which began with a baby picture, taken at his christening. In the photograph, were his grandparents, Maria and Mikael and his parents, Ivan and Ilsa.
"Sonya has an extremely strong resemblance to her grandmother," BB remarked as he put on his glasses. "You are as blonde as I imagined that you would have been as an infant." They progressed through the slideshow, with BB remarking on each in his own indomitable way.
"Ah, so this is your uniform for the game of hockey," he declared at a little league photo. "You were tall for your age. All Blackburns have been tall at this age. Why did you choose to play and what age did you begin?"
Interesting questions, Mike mused. "I was about five, which was when I learned to skate. My father coached pee-wee league hockey, so it was almost a given that I would play. John did too, but he was better than I was. He even played hockey in University. I imagine that hockey is a bit like cricket or soccer in England; if you're a boy, you're expected to play. Did you?"
"For the honour of my school, I most certainly did play! There were great rivalries between school sports teams at the time. I suppose, today, things might be different. The world is so different now, even though we believe that we keep up."
They continued through the slideshow, and when it was done, BB did request a copy. Mike took a DVD out of his computer bag. "I made one in case you were interested," he replied with a grin.
Then they rose, walked out the door and proceeded to the dining car, spending a truly enjoyable evening of good food, good wine and good conversation.
Lights glimmered, candles glowed, crystal clinked and silver sparkled. BB's beautiful home was alight with music, merriment and the stuff of which memories were made.
Never, in all of her dreams, had Sonya envisioned attending a party so elegant. Hell, a week ago, she feared that her honeymoon would end in her husband's premature death! Now, they were standing in BB's beautiful home, dressed in chic clothing, drinking superb wine and feasting on fine French food. They had gone from one extreme to another.
Bryan was attired in a beautiful suit, silk tie and hand tailored shirt. The crisp white of the shirt did, however, tend to emphasize his beginning to fade bruises, but Sonya felt that he looked dashing nonetheless and that the bruises lent him a rakish air.
Standing by her husband's side, resplendent in a royal blue silk sheath, Sonya surveyed the people mingling around the living and dining rooms. Some she knew, others were total strangers. It did her heart good to see the comfortable relationship that had seemed to have developed between BB and Mike on their sojourn to Tuscany. They both seemed relaxed and happy. Mike had raved about the villa in Tuscany, and BB had promised a family reunion there. She was looking forward to that party already, and this one was not yet over!
Steve and Mimi wandered over to visit. They were a good pair, Sonya decided, and hoped that their relationship would deepen and flourish. Both would be making the trip to Calgary with them, as Steven would pilot and BB co-pilot the jet that he owned.
What a way to travel! Sonya loved the little jet that John's company owned, and commercial travel really did suck by comparison. Not that she could afford a private jet, but at least she could say that she'd been a passenger a few times.
"Daydreaming?" Bryan asked quietly whispering in her ear.
"Not really, just taking count," Sonya replied. "Much as I'm loving this place, it's time to get home. I got an email from Linda today and there are some projects to which I really need to give some attention. Not to mention, Linda can go back to part-time, when I am back on the job. We've already extended our vacation by a week, so that you could get back on your feet."
"Are we going to tell the family what happened here?" Bryan asked.
"I can't see how we can avoid it! You're still pretty bruised and that alone would be hard to hide," Sonya replied. "Do you have reservations about telling them?"
Bryan grinned. "Naw, it's kinda cool now that it's all over and done with. But, I've decided something. When they dragged me out of the car after the kidnapping, my glasses fell on the ground. Grégoire, the bastard, took great pains to grind them with his heel. He knew how little I could see without them."
"The hood was for intimidation. I couldn't see the guys I didn't know without my glasses and he knew it. I'm going to have laser eye surgery when we return home. I've always been going to, but never got around to it. Is that okay with you?"
Sonya slid her arm around her husband's waist. "How absolutely terrifying that must have been for you! I'm so sorry that you had to go through that. Laser surgery sounds like a great option."
Finally, the party ended, people left, and all that remained were those living in the house and Steve and Mimi, who were staying overnight to keep things simple.
"I believe that was a successful soirée," BB exclaimed. "I very much wanted to introduce my son to those that matter, and also to provide Sonya and Bryan with a pleasant memory to take home with them. Santé!" he saluted. "We shall leave from the garage at nine in the morning, is that acceptable? Good! Bonsoir!" he exclaimed.
"BB sure is different than he seemed when we first met him, isn't he?" Sonya asked as they prepared for bed.
"Yeah, a lot looser than I thought he could be. I think that he and Mike are getting along okay, don't you?" Bryan replied, stifling a yawn.
"I agree! "Turning out the bedside lamp, Sonya snuggled into her husband, smiled and without a worry, spent her last night on French soil.
###
Nancy Maralyn Popovich
A native of Montreal, Nancy has lived with her husband in the Canadian Western Provinces for the past forty years. Creating art and reading voraciously since childhood, purebred dogs became a passion in early adulthood. Her career required writing skills, but it has been since retirement and the availability of more time that the passion for writing has been satisfied. You can contact Nancy and preview her other novels at:
www.nancypopovoch.com.
Here is a glimpse of the continuing story of the Toth Cousins in the next book in the Spy Series, BACKLASH. Will Sonya and Bryan be able to recover from their ordeal? Will Mike and BB establish a connection? Will Steve and Mimi's relationship become something special? Take a peek at this preview of
BACKLASH
It seemed, Sonya thought, that most of the important occasions in her large family took place in the restored Victorian home belonging to her sister, Susan. She and her husband, Kevin, had the largest home of all of the Calgary cousins, and it was where they tended to congregate when everyone was in town for a celebration. Or a funeral, which was not as uncommon as one might think, given the size of the Toth family.
It was also where she and her husband, Bryan, were living until they could accumulate enough money to buy their own home. They paid only expenses for their homey little third floor apartment, which allowed them to salt away both of their salaries for a down payment on a home of their own. Susan and Kevin's many kindnesses to them were something that Sonya would appreciate forever.
Tonight's occasion was somewhat uncommon, but not the first of its type that the family had attended over this past year. She was grateful that their family were close knit enough that these small bumps in the road could be taken in stride. More or less. To be honest, these bumps had been more like landslides it seemed at times, tumbling and changing family relationships like dice rolling in a cup.
As the youngest of the cousins, Sonya was not yet born when Susan, James and John were dubbed the "Terrifying Trio" by the family. The closest of friends, they had been constantly in trouble together as children, and their fast friendship still remained all these years later. James and his wife, Martine had flown in from Toronto for this special occasion, and they were, of course, staying with Susan.
The living room, dining room and great room were filled with cousins, spouses and children of various ages. Even their elderly aunt and uncle, Willi and Jake, had made the trip from the family's origins in the Creston Valley in British Columbia. This was as important an occasion that the family could imagine.
The family were doing their best to get to know two new family members. Steve Hunter had been introduced as John and Mike's half brother several months ago, and most of the family had seen him again at Sonya's wedding eight weeks later. Steve's addition to the family had caused another domino to drop, and changed that particular branch of the family dynamic yet again.
On this occasion, however, they were being introduced to Air Marshall (Ret.) Merlyn Blackburn, who had just been revealed as Mike's biological father. So as it stood now, John and Steve Hunter had the same father and John and Mike had the same mother. Brothers still, but now with some differences.
The stranger in their midst, Air Marshall (Ret.) Merlyn Blackburn, or BB as he preferred to be called, apparently had no difficulty remembering who belonged to whom and where each of the many cousins fit in. The family, accustomed to strangers being confused by their numbers, were duly impressed with the patrician British gentleman with the impeccable manners, regal bearing and prodigious memory.
The story surrounding the revelations of these family ties was somewhat convoluted.
Last winter, an incident had occurred at her cousin John's home. His wife, Sara and their son Ivan, had been taken hostage after receiving delivery of an old desk inherited from Sara's father. This happened after her father and his best friend had been murdered. Both of whom, they later found out, had been operatives for MI5 in England. In other words, they were spies.
The man who held them captive, Igor Kovaszic, had been looking for information rumoured to be in the infamous old desk in one of its numerous hidden compartments. One thing led to another, which resulted in John teaming up with Steve Hunter, the MI5 operative who had been working on solving the murders of their old employees.
Since John owned the major portion of an air rental company called Airlimo, he had access to and control of a small jet. He was able to fly Igor out of the country as requested by Canadian Security and Intelligence Services, with as little red tape as negotiations between governmental spy agencies was possible. Steve Hunter had flown as his co-pilot at that time. After a difficult flight they finally landed in Gibraltar, surprised to see Air Marshall Blackburn, Steve's stepfather. The Air Marshall, who the family now knew as BB, was at the time married to Steve Hunter's mother.
He confronted her with a truth that he witnessed, and a decades old deceit was revealed. Steve Hunter was in reality John's half brother, which had been announced to the family in June. At that time, John's older brother, Mike, had demanded that his mother be honest with him about his parentage as well.
The three men involved in this triangle, BB, Ivan Toth and Paul Hunter had been great friends as young men in various Air Force units posted at the same base in Germany. At the time, they had sown their wild oats with absolute abandon. What no one knew at the time, was that the women that married Ivan Toth and Paul Hunter were already pregnant when they married. And the men that they married, were not the biological fathers of their unborn children, a fact of which both women were most definitely aware. This deceit had now all come to light.
So, while the family was aware that Steve Hunter was John's half brother, what they were now digesting, was that Mike was in reality, BB's biological son. Despite positive DNA testing, there was no denying that Mike and BB were related. They had the same height, build, profile and identical, laser-like steel blue, dark lashed eyes. BB's hair was now pristine white, a foreshadow of what Mike's honey blonde locks would become.
Sonya and Bryan had carefully planned their honeymoon trip to Paris, where Bryan had spent a year on a post graduate scholarship for his Doctorate in Art. They had anticipated a romantic honeymoon in the city of love, but unfortunately, that had not come to be. Mike made the trip as well, intent on meeting BB, the man that at the time he believed would prove to be his father. Steve had been essential in acting as intermediary, using his knowledge of both men to ease their meeting. All had gone as planned.
Until. Until Bryan had been kidnapped and badly abused. And then everyone around Sonya turned out to be spies; honest-to-goodness, black wearing, judo kicking, electronics using, gun totting, working for various governmental agencies spies.
And this was not some sort of "B" movie. They actually had clout with the local police. And several of them were now socializing and interacting with her solid, boring and oh, so very ordinary family. It was somewhat bizarre.
"Hey, Babe!" Bryan grinned as he slung his arm around his wife's shoulders. The bright cast on his last two fingers and part of his hand was covered with graffiti-like signatures and little drawings in felt pen. In his uninjured hand he held a beer. Dressed in jeans and a Picasso Rocks theme tee-shirt, he didn't look at all like the director of a prestigious art gallery, but rather an art student. The black and blue of his bruises had turned into a hideous shade of yellow and maroon, which didn't help the image at all. However, his young looks belied his age, education and talent.
"Hey, yourself!" Sonya smiled back at him, noting the healing bruises and again saying a prayer of thanks that he was home and healthy. "It looks like everyone is enjoying themselves," she remarked, leaning against her husband. "BB seems to be fitting in quite well."
"Yeah, he's a bit of a chameleon. He seems to be able to blend everywhere that he goes. Maybe it's a skill that served him well in his career as a spy. But I have to admit that I don't think anyone would point at him and declare him to be one. He just seems too..."
"Stately?" Susan interjected as she walked by. "He looks like the quintessential English gentleman. Just how much did you tell everyone about what happened in Paris? And about BB, except for the fact that he's Mike's father?" she asked curiously.
"Only that he was able to pull some strings that helped us to get Bryan released from Grégoire and his band of thugs. We also mentioned that Madame Lalonde was our landlady and her grandson, Sylvain, was about the same age as Ivan," Sonya replied, twirling a lock of golden blonde hair around her finger, something she usually did when she was stressed or thinking. "But much of what went on is and will remain confidential. We discussed the entire thing on the flight home from Paris and we all agreed that too much information is just that, too much information. This is need to know."
"So how did you explain the kidnapping?"
Susan could be relentless, Sonya grumbled to herself, but that was a part of the reason for her success in business.
"A case of mistaken identity," Bryan sighed, rolling his dark brown eyes skyward. "It just seemed to be the most expedient way to avoid all kinds of questions. Mimi, Steve and BB were easily explained. BB owns the jet that we flew home in and he's here to meet his grandsons and to get to know Mike better. Steve is a pilot and a brother and Mimi is his girlfriend, so it made sense to come home to Calgary together."
Susan shrugged her shoulders. "Sounds perfectly logical to me! The entire story would be too much I think, and sometimes it's better not to know every detail. I had nightmares the first night after you told us the complete story."
"You asked!" Sonya retorted to her sister. "Just spreading the wealth," she shrugged her shoulders and laughed, her china blue eyes twinkling in mirth.
"Yeah, yeah," Susan murmured. "Look! Sara's grilling Mimi. You'd think that she was Steve's sister not his sister-in-law. I know that she liked him when they first met, before they even knew that he was John's half brother." John's wife, Sara, was one of Susan's best friends and they had discussed this in detail several times.
Their little group gazed across the room where Mimi was gracefully leaning against a counter, sipping on her wine, while Sara stood beside her, a serious look across her pretty face, tucking a lock of dark brown hair behind her ear as she normally did when she was concentrating.
They were an interesting study in brunettes, Susan thought. Mimi's hair was a short, shining, stylish bob, her heavily lashed, hazel eyes luminous in an animated face. Sara on the other hand, was all peaches and cream complexion, soft brown eyes and straight, fine, almost shoulder length hair. They were two beautiful women, yet so very different from one another, both in appearance and in personality. And, Susan supposed, if Mimi and Steve were in a serious relationship, they could ultimately become sisters-in-law. What was that saying about degrees of separation?
Susan's revelry was interrupted. "So, how is Sonya really doing?" a voice beside her asked. She turned with a smile. "As well as I think she can, given the circumstances. She was pretty shaken after it was all over."
Peter, their oldest cousin and Sonya's employer, nodded knowingly. He was one of the few that knew the entire story of what happened in Paris.
"She's been different since they got back." Noting the look of alarm on Susan's face, he quickly continued. "Not anything you'd notice, if you didn't know her well. She's quieter, more intense and for lack of a better word, she seems more mature for her twenty-two years than when she left for Paris. She's always been stubborn, as you well know." He noted Susan's knowing grimace.
"It's not in a rebellious way. It's in a quietly serious and more determined way. The older clients that once seemed to intimidate her are no longer an issue. She handles them like a seasoned professional now."
Peter managed the company for which Sonya worked, and in which she owned twenty percent of the shares, shares that had been bequeathed to her by Peter's father. He, along with John and Steven's father, his brother Jake and their grandparents' best friend had founded the company many years ago. They named it Snytytza, Inc, an homage of sorts to the family's Ukrainian roots.
"I understand what you mean," Susan replied thoughtfully. "I've seen it myself. It's subtle, but the incidents in Paris really did change her. I hope there are no long-term problems ahead for her. Do you think that she needs to speak to someone about it?"
China blue eyes, the same eyes as Sonya's, crinkled in a face encompassing smile. "Naw, I think she's fine. Just saying, that's all. If she feels the need, she'll do it. You know how independent she is."
Susan's red-gold eyebrows rose over navy blue eyes. "No kidding!" she replied. "According to everyone, not only is she the spitting image of Gran, she's almost like Gran was -- quiet, but a force when she needs to be. She'll be okay."
Their attention was diverted towards a burst of laughter. Apparently John had, as was his habit, played a little joke on Sonya and her reaction had caused the laughter.
All of the cousins looked like family, unusual for so many relatives, but John and Sonya looked more like brother and sister than cousins. Both had inherited their grandmother's coloring; hair the color of ripe golden wheat and brilliant china blue eyes. There was no denying that they were related.
BB's eyes glittered with mirth and memory. "Ah, yes," he recalled, swirling his glass of scotch. "Ivan frequently spoke of the farm upon which he grew up. He told me that you were the 'magic mechanic', if I can remember the term correctly. He said your hands were magic around any kind of engine. I could have used someone with your talents in the RAF," he laughed.
Jake shook his head, his white hair glistening. "Ivan's been gone for so long," he reflected, "that I never thought anyone other than his family would remember him. It is such a treat to talk to someone that knew him. Thanks for that!" Then he paused, as if deciding how to phrase his next words.
"I don't know what to say to either you or to Mike. Ivan didn't know the truth that you were Mike's father. That I know for fact. It wasn't in his nature to lie or to accept a lie, especially about something so important. He truly believed that Mike was his son, please believe that. And he had no idea that Steven's mother was carrying his child."
BB smiled, his angular face softening. "Ivan was an honourable man, I know that for fact. There is no question in my mind that he believed that Mike was his son. He and I were victims of a lie told by Mike and John's mother, aided and abetted by Steve's mother, something for which I cannot ever forgive either of them. Obviously, they had their reasons."
"At least, I have the advantage to get to know my son, despite the lost years. Alas, I cannot say the same for Steven. Paul was a wonderful man and a very good father. But, Steven will never have the opportunity to meet his biological father, Ivan, and my heart bleeds for him. All he has is the family that knew his father. Fortunately, John has embraced him into the family and I feel that he will try to fill in the blanks."
"I can help!" Jake exclaimed. "No one knew Ivan better than I! We were two farm kids without anyone else around. There wasn't much that we didn't know about each other. Where is Steve? He and I need to talk!" With that, Jake got up from his seat and strode across the room.
"Is he always that decisive?" BB asked with a lift of one white eyebrow.
"Oh yes," his wife of fifty plus years declared. "It's one of the reasons that I fell in love with him! Mind you, I decided that we would marry when I was about eight, so I had to have a great deal of patience!" Willi giggled and lifted her wine in a salute to BB, and perhaps to all of them.
"Are you intimidated?" a soft voice asked in her ear.
"Absolument non! C'est charment," Mimi replied quietly, hazel eyes sparkling as she surveyed the room. "Such a big family, Steven! What you will do with all of them?" she asked.
Steve heaved a big sigh. "I still don't know," he replied honestly. "This is the third 'family' gathering that I have attended and I still have no idea. I belong, I guess."
He lifted his hand before Mimi spoke. "It's not their fault. Absolutely everyone has welcomed me with open arms. I am the one holding back, and I don't know why. Maybe it's because I'm having trouble believing in what appears to be the truth after being lied to all of my life. Maybe, it's because my father is dead and I can't speak to him. I really don't know."
Mimi slid her hand softly across his cheek. "You will come to understand. Time, Chéri, time."
"Perhaps, I can help a little," Jake interrupted. "Ivan was my only brother. I am going to hijack Steve from you for a few minutes, Mimi, if I may. I'd like to help him get to know his father from the person that knew him the very best."
Mimi smiled as Steve lifted his eyebrows and followed his uncle out of the room. She had encountered many different people in many different situations during her life as a spy and this was as interesting an array of personalities as she had encountered.
Of course, when Steven had confided in her the results of his and John's DNA tests, she had done her research. She felt that she was almost intimately knowledgeable about every person in this house. Being a spy did have its privileges, she admitted to herself, as she glanced around the room.
The oldest female cousin, Susan, came into her vision. Small and curvy, with golden red curly hair, a savvy business-woman, successfully in business with her husband. An ex-federal employee with all the diplomatic clearances that had been required for the Department of Foreign Affairs. She had a young daughter. Check.
Susan's husband came along and gave her a sneaky little butt embrace. Happily married, she thought. Same diplomatic clearances as his wife when they both worked for the government. Check.
Next the cousin, James and his wife Martine, here from Ontario specifically to meet BB and to connect with Steven. Both were accountants with a chartered, bonded firm. Check.
Ah, Peter and his wife, Linda. They ran the family firm together until recently, when Sonya had joined the company full time after earning her degree in Business. Linda now chose to work part time if needed. All references indicated an above board, well run-company. Check.
Sara and John. Investigation unnecessary. This had already been done by both Steven and BB. Check.
Sonya and Bryan had both proven their worth in Paris. Hell of a way to honeymoon, she thought.
The elderly aunt and uncle, Willi and Jake. Salt of the earth people, who had earned their way in the world. She had to admire them. They had succeeded in a tough world and come through the other side. Obviously, Jake wanted and needed his brother's son to understand and to know his father. This man had her undivided admiration. Check.
"A penny for your thoughts," Sonya whispered into Mimi's ear. They had gotten to know each other somewhat better in Paris, and on the trip from Paris to Calgary in BB's jet.
"A penny?" Mimi asked, her brow furrowing in puzzlement.
Sonya's laughter tinkled. "Not a French saying?" she continued. "It means, what are you thinking?"
"Ah," Mimi smiled. "Not much, Chérie. I was think that your Uncle Jake is very nice man. He take Steven to talk about his father."
"Uncle Jake is one of a kind. If anyone can help Steve understand his father, he can. That was very nice of him, but very typical," Sonya declared. "So, are you a little intimidated with all of the cousins?"
Mimi's laugh was almost as musical as her Parisian accent. "Not at all! I have face many difficult people, and your family are very nice."
"Yeah, we are," thought Sonya. But it was lovely to hear.
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