The Timekeeper Conspiracy

13

Neither Lucas nor Andre even bothered trying to get any sleep. The situation was extremely volatile. At four o'clock in the morning, someone knocked softly at their door.

There had been no warning over the comset telling them to expect visitors. Both of them drew their rapiers and slowly approached the door, ready for anything. In French, Lucas asked who was there, affecting a sleepy sounding voice. The reply was scarcely above a whisper, but they recognized that it was Athos. Lucas opened the door.

"Good, I see you are both still dressed," said the musketeer, quietly. "I could not get to sleep in this pestilential hole, either. Planchet has seen strangers about. We'd best quit this place and be on our way. Ah, here comes D'Artagnan and Planchet. Softly, now, let us be off. Planchet, did you tell Grimaud to saddle the horses?"

"Yes, Monsieur Athos. I told him to move with stealth, just as you said."

"Excellent," said Athos. "I do not much care for running away like a thief in the night, but it would be the prudent thing to do. I did not like the look of our innkeeper. He was a shade too friendly for having been wakened in the middle of the night."

Moving on tiptoe, they crept down the stairs and out the door, heading for the stables. Their horses were all saddled and awaiting them, but there was no sign of Grimaud. Athos glanced about him, searching for his servant.

"Grimaud!" he called, softly.

There was no reply.

"Grimaud, damn you for a laggard, where the devil are you?"

An answering moan came from within a pile of straw, from which a boot could be seen sticking out. Athos rushed over to the straw pile and, pulling by the foot, dragged out Grimaud, who appeared to have been bashed over the head. He was semiconscious and bleeding profusely from the scalp. At that very moment, they were attacked.

A group of men dressed as peasants, yet betrayed by the fine rapiers which they brandished, leapt out at them from all corners of the stable. One appeared over the stall behind D'Artagnan, stabbing down viciously with a dagger. The quick-witted Gascon ducked aside and caught the man's arm, dragging him over the stall and flipping him down onto the ground. He twisted the dagger out of the would-be assassin's hand and stabbed him with his own weapon, plunging the blade into the man's chest. He sidestepped a lunge from another and dropped him with a right across the jaw, then swung into the saddle and yanked free his rapier.

Lucas and Andre both drew their swords and daggers and met the men who charged them. Lucas turned a sword away from his attacker and booted its wielder in the groin. He quickly slashed his dagger across the man's face, then turned to meet his next opponent. D'Artagnan came riding up at that moment, rearing his horse and interposing it between Lucas and two swordsmen, giving him time to swing up into the saddle. The stables became filled with the sounds of ringing steel.

Andre parried one sword-thrust with her dagger and engaged another with her blade. She executed a quick beat and disengage, then quickly thrust the point of her rapier into her opponent's eye. The second swordsman lunged again and she twisted her body, feeling the blade ripping through her cloak and passing perilously close to her ribs. She moved into the thrust, trapping the man's blade and stabbing her dagger deep into his abdomen. The man fell, clutching at her and dragging her off balance, taking her down with him. She fought free and started to get up, turning in time to see another man bearing down on her. D'Artagnan ran him down with his horse and she took four running steps and leaped over the hindquarters of her horse and into the saddle.

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

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

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

"One for all-" D'Artagnan shouted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was no reply.

"Hawk One!"

Silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And where shall I find him?"

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

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

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

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

"But we have no such permission!"

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

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

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

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

"What happens now?" said Andre.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jesus…" Finn whispered.

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

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

Cobra walked out alone.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded.

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

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

“Well? Did you get them?' '

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

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

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

"What about Mongoose?" Finn said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finn did not respond.

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

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

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

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

"Delaney-" Mongoose croaked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lucas frowned, remembering something.

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

"Milady!" Lucas said.

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

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

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

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

The agent frowned. "Yes, but-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They would have become increasingly anxious as the journey of the musketeers progressed. They would have had to watch closely every attempt made by Richelieu's men to stop the musketeers to see if it could be a cover for a terrorist ploy. Their anxiety could easily have already triggered needless interference with the cardinal's men. That would have worked for Taylor. He knew that Mensinger's "Fate Factor" tended to compensate for the deaths of people who were historically insignificant, but in this case, such minor disruptions would only place added strain upon temporal continuity. There had simply been too many small disruptions with too inadequate compensations in too short a span of time. With the final act, the scenario would have been irreversibly disrupted and a temporal split would have been inevitable.

Milady rode in her carriage toward the palace. If the agents were sharp, and if they were right on top of D'Artagnan all the way, then they would have noticed the historical discrepancy of all twelve diamond studs still being in Buckingham's possession. Perhaps Buckingham might even have told them that Milady had "visited" with him. In such a case, the agents would have undoubtedly devised some ploy to detain D'Artagnan while they frantically examined all twelve diamond studs in order to make certain that they were nothing but twelve diamond studs.

Otherwise, they would follow D'Artagnan straight back to the palace, watching while he delivered the studs to the queen and all the while wondering when Taylor would make his move. An enemy on edge, nervous and ridden with anxiety, was an enemy off guard.

The ball would take place as scheduled. The agents would have undoubtedly infiltrated en masse, since with the ride of the musketeers safely and successfully completed, they would have deduced that the planned disruption would occur during the ball. They would all have been there, waiting, watching, when Richelieu gave the king the two studs that Milady had supposedly stolen from Buckingham. Richelieu would tell Louis that he doubted that the queen still possessed the diamond studs, but if she wore them, then in that case the king should count them. If the king found only ten, he was to ask her who could have stolen from her the two studs Richelieu had given him.

Taylor was to have been at Richelieu's side then. While he was with the cardinal and under his protection, the agents would have been powerless to move against him. They would have only been able to watch and wait. They would have been helpless to do anything when the queen arrived, wearing her diamond studs, and the king and Richelieu, with Milady by his side, went over to her to count the studs and to confront her with the two "missing" studs in case she had only ten of them. In that moment, when they were all together, Taylor would have pressed a tiny button.

Taylor had known for quite some time, or at least some rational part of him had known, that he was going insane. He had known that his personality was fragmenting. Before the mission had begun, he was already aware of at least two other personalities within him. Personalities that, at times, he could not control. The condition was not beyond a cure, but there was no way that he could risk obtaining therapy. He had been living underground for years and seeking help would have resulted in his almost certain apprehension. So Taylor had decided to "retire" at his peak. Quite literally, he had intended to go out with a bang. Two factors had prevented him from seeing his plan through as he had intended. There had been no way of knowing that the agents would somehow find the terrorists. He must have judged Mongoose incorrectly. Also, he had not counted on Milady. Since he had assumed her character, she had developed within him quickly. She had entirely taken over or eradicated his other personalities and she had grown very strong, indeed. Moreover, she did not want to die.

"You were a suicidal fool, Adrian," she said, as he listened somewhere, helplessly. "You never knew what you really wanted. You were clever, Adrian, but you were weak. Weak where it really mattered. Anger is not strength. Egotism is not strength. Strength lies in knowing who you are. I know who I am, Adrian. I am what you were always meant to be."

She chuckled. "You wanted to die. That doesn't surprise me. You were always self-destructive. Well, you're going to get your wish, though not quite in the manner you intended. I'm afraid that I do not share your sense of theater. You see, I intend to survive this little episode. You, on the other hand, will die. You will have made your grand and final gesture, so in a way, it will all end more or less as you had planned."

Taylor battled his way back to the surface. Almost at once, his face became flushed with perspiration, his breath came in irregular gasps.

"Control, control," he said through gritted teeth. "Don't lose it now, not yet, stay in control-"

He was interrupted by a throaty, rippling, feminine laugh that burst forth from his lips even as the upper half of his face remained twisted in a concentrated frown, eyes staring wildly, beginning to glaze.

"No! No!"

"We've reached the palace, Milady," said the coachman, opening the door.

"Thank you, Maurice," she said, sweetly. "Will you assist me?"