Crusader's Gold

TWENTY FIVE

As the day passed, Alicia found solitude increasingly demanding. Another walk along the Seine, another coffee in a café, one more hour behind a desk trying to chart the future course of her life. One more sheet of blank paper. A distant study of “normal” people, and of how they went about their daily lives. It all seemed so alien to her. It had been said time and time again that career soldiers could never adapt to a regular life. Looking at typical habits and routines, Alicia could easily understand why.

The first man who beat her to the last bottle of milk on the shelf would end up crushed at her feet. The pushy woman who barged past her in the street would find her head in a handbag, still attached of course. The idiot wandering along in the flow of human traffic, obliviously texting or flicking at his cell screen as he walked, would run right into the point of her elbow.

As her thoughts turned darker, Alicia knew it was time to seek some company. First she rang Russo and thought, What the hell, why not make it a threesome?

Russo and Healey turned up together. Alicia suspected they’d met some time earlier, but said nothing. Russo sat down on the bench beside her and stared at the huge Egyptian obelisk at the center of the Place de la Concorde.

“They all seem so… unaware,” he said, referring to the people. “Carefree.”

“They’re not,” Alicia said. “But for today, and because of people like us, they can be.

“Do you think we’ll ever get to do that?” Russo said.

Alicia stared at him, surprised how close he was to her way of thinking. Silently, she shook her head. Healey voiced an objective of one day becoming a model civilian but Russo pointed out the fact that he was barely out of pre-school.

The hours passed. The day wore on. The soldiers took stock of their surroundings and ensured all was safe. It was what they did. Sentinels watching over the living, as those who had gone before watched over them. Uncles, brothers, fathers, mothers, sons and daughters forever lost but never forgotten.

Memory preserves them all.

Darkness fell for the second night and Alicia was looking forward to an early start the next morning. Crouch had texted to explain what they had found, but demonstrated no headway yet. She said her goodbyes to Russo last after forcing Healey away an hour earlier and topping her quota of the expected “time you were in bed” wisecracks, then took a steady walk back to her hotel. Even before she entered the room she knew it was occupied.

Call it sixth sense, SAS training, perception by a woman at the top of her game. Call it luck. She knew. And when the door opened inwards and the figure loomed she was ready.

Lightning quick, she jabbed to the throat, poked at the eyes, kicked at the knees. The figure danced back, staggering as the lower blow struck home. Alicia followed it up with another blitz attack, slamming her knee in hard — once, twice, three times — but each blow was blocked by a raised elbow. No words were passed.

The figure rolled away, a jacket left in its wake. Alicia bounded forward, felt brief contact with the bridge of her nose, and stopped, tears blinding her eyes. The next blow struck her sternum, causing her to gasp, ripping her T-shirt. She retaliated in a second, fast blows to the body, digging her fingers into the figure’s own clothing and ripping a good chunk of it away. Hard, hairless muscles were revealed. The man attacked in a blur, all darkness and distorted silhouette, spinning around her body in a full circle and ripping the rest of her T-shirt away. Alicia didn’t let up; there was no modesty in this kind of battle.

A feint to the groin and a punch up into a falling chin made her opponent see stars. She stepped in and tore the man’s black clothing down from the chest to the waist. He recovered fast, dropping to one hand and kicking with both feet. The strikes took Alicia by surprise, made her fall flat on her ass. Before she could move, both her shoes were ripped from her feet. Alicia couldn’t help but mutter in surprise.

How the hell. ?

But he wouldn’t get the better of her, she was determined. She knew where certain vulnerabilities lay. As the man ducked in again she rose powerfully and then dropped quickly to her knees, shredding the rest of the material that covered his body.

The man paused in shock.

“Be careful, Beau,” she breathed. “If I manage to get hold of that thing I’m gonna use it to twirl you above my head like a whirlycopter.”

The man kicked at her shoulder. Alicia forced herself to concentrate but found it hard to avert her eyes. “Oh wow, I’ve so missed—”

In a move too fast for her to comprehend, Beauregard spun her around so that her back was pressed into his body and then launched her onto the hotel room’s bed. Two seconds later he’d ripped her trousers off. Alicia, panting, lay still, then slowly turned her head to look coyly over her golden shoulder.

“So? You waiting for an invite or are you gonna pound that?”

Beauregard needed no second request. Falling atop her he put his lips close to her ear. “Are you ready for me?”

“Fighting my boyfriend always turns me on.”

“That is what I thought.”

Alicia propped a cushion under her hips. “For fuck’s sake, be careful.”

“Ah, if only I had a franc for every girl who asked me that.”

“Fuck you.”

“No.” Beauregard pressed into her hips. “I think you have that backward.”

Later, bruised and spent, Alicia rolled over to create some space between herself and the Frenchman. What had promised to be a spectacularly boring evening had turned into something far more satisfying, but there were still questions to be asked.

“Beau? What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” The master assassin thrust his hips at her.

“Quit that. I’m serious. Who are you working for, Beau. And why are you in Paris?”

Beauregard pulled the sheet across his body, giving Alicia a moment’s regret. He plumped the pillows behind his head and sat up. “Look, Alicia, I cannot answer your questions yet.”

“Yet?”

“Yes. The time is soon, but it is not my decision.”

“Shit Beau, you had better be working for the good guys. If you turn out to be working for those asshole Pythians I’m really gonna have to kill ya.”

“Your patience will be worth it.”

“Now you sound like one of those business answering machines.” She switched to a tinny accent. “We appreciate your call. It is important to us. You are fifth in the queue. We are currently servicing Trevor. Please bend over and let us take you—”

“Look.” Beauregard interrupted her and leaned forward. “I have never been this far on the inside, undercover. Every moment I remain with you my life is in danger, but I did remain.”

“In danger?” Alicia repeated. “Is that why you finished so quickly?”

Beauregard turned away, frustration flashing across his features. Alicia relented and reached out to him. “So tell me this then. What are the Pythians up to now?”

“Nothing but their usual megalomaniacal bullshit. Tyler Webb’s incessant needs center around ghost ships and Saint Germain. I fear if he does not get what he wants then he will turn our world to ashes. And his needs — they’re demonic to put it mildly.”

“Demonic?”

“Subjugation. Domination. Societies in chains. Death squads. I could go on.”

“Please don’t.”

“And if he becomes frustrated…” Beauregard let it hang.

“So you’re the inside man. And you won’t tell me who you work for. All right. I can live with that but only for a short while, Beau. You get me?”

Beau nodded, his powerful body shifting slightly beneath the sheets and drawing Alicia’s attention. “Already, the Pythians are recruiting new primary members. I have only two names so far — Julian Marsh and Zoe Sheers. But it is a start. The names have been… passed on.”

Alicia sensed that her lover wished to tell her more. Wanted to. Her intuition was rarely wrong and she truly believed Beauregard was genuine. Despite the fact that whenever they met she always seemed to end up with a set of fresh bruises.

“And now to a more serious issue,” she said, leaning forward. “Never, ever, try to cover yourself up when we’re alone again. I like you naked.”

Beauregard gave an exaggerated sigh. “Of course.”

Alicia hesitated. “And just so we’re clear this time. You wanna fight first or fuck?”

“It is up to you.”

Alicia laughed. “Oh, I know that, Beau. I really do.”

She climbed on top.