Chapter 1.37

 

It was early morning. The sun had just risen, but the dense fog left the sky dark gray. It was dark in the bedroom, as the windows were tightly curtained, and the lone night lamp provided weak illumination. Louie de Brenyi, by that surname he was in this house, was buttoning his shirt, trying not to make any noise. When he had finished with his shirt, he looked at the bed.

On the bed, Janine de Wolfe slept sweetly, barely covered by the thin bedspread. They spent a wonderful evening and night together. Janine proved to be a very passionate and capable woman. Louie hoped that their fruitful collaboration would last as long as possible.

Janine's hair stayed scattered in disarray on the pillow. Louie's gaze wandered over the soft skin on her back, slowly descending to the bedspread. Once he finished dressing, he walked over to the bed and leaned over. He pulled a strand of her hair away from her cheek with his hand and kissed her gently. Janine mumbled in her sleep without waking up. Louie could only make out his own name, and a smile appeared on his face. Janine turned on her other side and continued her sweet sleep. Her beautiful breasts appeared before Louie's gaze and he fought the urge to stay for a few seconds. Finally, duty overcame it and with a sigh, he left the bedroom.

The apartment he was in belongs to Janine. There was no one else in the apartment except the two of them. She didn't even let her servants in here. The evidence of last night's feast was still on the table in the dining room. Louis took a quick bite of the leftovers and went downstairs.

A horse-drawn carriage was waiting for him outside. The morning fog was thick. The visibility was no more than ten meters. The street lamps looked like huge glowing orbs, beyond which an impenetrable gray haze began.

"Good morning, boss," his man greeted him.

"Morning," he replied, "All prepared?"

"Yes, boss. Your orders have been carried out. All the men are in place."

"Good, then let's go," he nodded in satisfaction and got into the carriage.

 

Mike knocked on the door of the ward, and without waiting for an answer, went inside. Stan's ward turned out to be considerably larger, with four beds. Mike immediately noticed his friend. He was lying on the far bed, his arm folded, bandaged, and pressed to his chest. Sitting beside Stan on a small chair was a visitor, a man in the uniform of the captain of the city guard.

While he was figuring out what to do, Stan spotted him.

"Mike!" He shouted, startling the others a little. "You're alive!"

Mike walked over to his bed.

"Hi, Stan. As you can see, I'm alive. Spent a couple of nights in your southeastern department," Mike said hello, then nodded at his friend bandaged arm. "What happened to you?"

Stan sighed and sat back comfortably on the bed.

"I met Colonel Tirel's men."

"Huh," Mike wondered. "Unexpected. And what did they want from you?"

"I don't know," Stan shrugged and immediately grimaced in pain. "And now we're not likely to find out. I heard about your exploits yesterday."

"The whole town probably knows about it by now," Mike sighed.

Yesterday Catherine de Graaf did not say a word to him about it. But he well knew that he could not avoid an unpleasant conversation with her. But what frightened him most of all was Lady Anabelle…

"Indeed!" The captain entered into the conversation. "All of today's newspapers came out with sensational headlines. It's been a long time since something like this happened in the capital."

Mike looked questioningly at Stan, silently reminding him to introduce them to each other. Stan understood his look and coughed a couple of times.

"Mike let me introduce you to Captain Arsène Sénier of the central district," the captain made a small bow. "And this is Major Michael de Graaf from the Ministry of Foreign Intelligence."

Mike bowed back.

"Captain," Mike addressed him, "you must be here because of what happened to Stan?"

Captain Sénier shook his head in the negative.

"No. I'm here about something else," he said. "But I think you'll find it interesting, too, since it concerns your ministry."

"Yes?" Surprised Mike. "Interesting to hear."

According to the captain, he and his group had been raiding the local community yesterday. At one of the addresses, they apprehended a curious couple. A bald, older healer was having fun with a young underage boy. But the funniest thing started next. The drunk healer got pretty freaked out at the sight of the officers. He mistook them for people from foreign intelligence and thought they were after him. The healer immediately began to repent and tell interesting things. Well, the city guards wrote everything down in detail.

It turns out that the healer is involved in gray organ contraband. His latest order was a girl from the Ministry of Foreign Intelligence. His assignment was to prepare her for sale for donor organs.

"So, she's alive!" exclaimed Mike. "Do we know where they're keeping her?"

He couldn't wait to go there.

"She's in bad shape, Major," the captain grieved him. " It looks like she's tortured. And it's only thanks to the doctor that she's still alive. He named the place, but only after we gave him a guarantee of his immunity."

"So, all the more reason for us to hurry!" said Mike, unable to bear it.

"Mike, calm down," Stan told him. "Our men are now preparing for a raid on the Lone Star Bar where they're holding her."

"I have to be part of that raid," Mike said.

Stan sighed and looked at Captain Sénier. He knew it was impossible to stop Mike now. The captain immediately understood Stan's look.

"We sent a man to your ministry this morning with a dispatch, but…"

"Bureaucracy," Mike sighed. "That's why it's better that I handle this from the Ministry of Foreign Intelligence. Besides, I'm in charge of Lieutenant Sylvie Meyer's case. That's the one who's gone missing."

"Whatever you say, Major," the captain shrugged. "But I think you need to check it out with your boss."

"The boss is dead," Mike joked grimly.

Captain Sénier stared at him with rounded eyes, clearly not appreciating the joke. Stan only shook his head disapprovingly.

"Not funny, Mike," Stan said.

"But it's true," he replied. "But you're right, Captain. I need to have a word with my superiors. What about the raid on the bar, has it started?"

The captain looked at his wristwatch and then answered:

"Not yet. The assault will be in two hours and ten minutes."

Mike mentally estimated the time and distance. It worked out that if he hurried, he would make it in time for the start of the attack.

"Captain, how would you feel about the offer to ride with me to the Ministry of Foreign Intelligence? You're on the service carriage, I hope?"

Captain Sénier thought for a moment. He was probably also figuring out the time and distance in his mind.

"I don't mind Major," he finally replied, "but we're running out of time. Delays will not be acceptable."

"Mike. I'm asking you. Be careful," Stan added.

"I know," Mike replied.

 

Five minutes later they were already sitting in the horse-drawn carriage. Mike quickly returned to his room and changed into yesterday's captain's uniform. A nurse met him on the way. He kindly informed her of urgent matters of national importance. Her pleas he simply ignored, and the poor girl ran to find the chief healer. Mike, meanwhile, left the hospital.

The weather was uncommonly sunny, which is not often seen in the capital city. Though just an hour ago it was still foggy. The warm rays warmed Mike's skin pleasantly on this chilly morning.

"To the ministry?" Captain Sénier asked.

"Yes, like we discussed," confirmed Mike. "Aren't they going to flee there, while you prepare the operation?"

Quite often it happens that criminals get away from a raid conducted by the city guard. It seemed as if someone had warned them in advance. Mike really didn't want that to happen this time. He needed Lieutenant Selvi Meyer to be alive.

"Major, I'm afraid you don't understand," the captain took offense, "this isn't a small operation with one city guard patrol. There's a large force at work here. The whole block around the bar is already under lockdown. No one's getting away."

Mike didn't argue with him. It was hard to judge the sufficiency of the forces assigned without knowing their numbers. And even more so, not knowing what forces they might be up against. A lot could go wrong in two hours, unfortunately.

They rode on in silence. Neither of them wanted to continue the conversation. Normally Mike would try to sit with his back to the coachman and control the road behind them. This time, however, he could not do so. His usual place took the captain. So, Mike sat down as they rode and shifted a little to the right so that he could see ahead of them.

They rode pretty fast, but the dense capital traffic didn't allow them to speed up any more. At one of the intersections, another carriage moved in front of them. The maneuver was quite dangerous. The carriage driver even swore profanely but had to slow his horses down a little to avoid hitting the carriage in front of them.

For a minute or so they followed the slower carriage. Mike got a good look at it. It looked plain, roofed for four passengers. Painted black, as was fashionable these days, but without any fancy decoration. There was no emblem on it, either.

"Get ahead of them," the captain couldn't bear it, "we're running out of time. They're not blind, they should notice we're city guards."

"Yes, sir," replied the coachman, who was also from the city guard and in a lieutenant's uniform.

He struck the reins at the horses, speeding them up and shifting slightly to the left, preparing to outrun them. Their maneuver got noticed and they also shifted to the left side. The coachman cursed loudly again.

"What the hell," thought Mike, standing up a little to get a better look at what was going on up in the front.

The horse-drawn carriage was clearly not going to let them pass. Mike inwardly prepared himself for another attack. Unfortunately, his armor and weapons remained at home. All he had on him was a bracelet given to him by Efi, a protective ring, and glasses. The glasses were also a gift from Effie, but their usefulness was about zero right now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something round and shiny fall out from under the horse-drawn carriage and right onto the road in their path. Before he had fully realized what he had seen, he had already shouted out.

"Shield! To the Side!"

Mike immediately activated the shield in his bracelet to protect against magic. Additionally, he channeled the energy from the protection ring as well.

The captain looked at him in surprise, but followed his lead and activated his shield. Mike felt the carriage turn sharply to the right.

A blinding flash followed in the same second.