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Styx pushed the Lobby button once they were all in the elevator and stiffened his shoulders slightly when he stood before Nick and Diamond, in the manner of a bodyguard.

None of them had said a word when the elevator stopped with a soft ding on the lobby.

“Ladies first.” Styx moved aside and gestured the way for Di, who flashed a flirtatious smile and stepped out.

“I think we should head to Germany,” Nick piped up thoughtfully, once they were all out of the elevator. “That Jess Nelson took the flight there, and it’s strong enough evidence where the next crime will happen.”

Diamond scratched her head and threw her sleek, black hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know, Nick. I don’t have any idea where we should go next.” She sighed slowly, as her eyes wandered around the lobby. “It’s like we’re all blindfolded, with a stick in our hands, trying to hit the piñata. We know we hit something whenever there’s a clue, but it never explodes.”

Nick insisted. “I know it’s Germany this time. The girl left very clear evidence, named herself Jess Nelson, and took the flight to Munich. It’s a lead we wouldn’t want to miss. And we don’t even know where else to go, anyway, do we?”

“How can you be so sure that it’s really the actual lead and not a trap? Maybe she just wants us to go to Munich when she’s on the other side of the world?” Styx argued. “No offense, man, but I think it’s a very vague lead when you consider the enormity of this mission. She’s travelling all over the world, dawg; it’s ridiculous!”

Nick shrugged. “I just know it. And we have to start from somewhere, especially before the Feds bust our asses. What better place to start than the one with the stronger lead?”

“I still think it’s hardly evidence-”

“That’s why I’m a 008 and you’re a rookie, Styx,” Nick replied curtly, looking annoyed at the young agent’s forwardness. “It comes with experience and learning to trust your instincts, which you lack and I have plenty of. So watch closely and observe, rookie. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from the master.”

Styx rolled his eyes significantly when Nick turned his back to walk outside the hotel and mumbled under his breath, “And that comes from someone who’s been on a six-month hiatus for blowing an agent up.”

“I’ve heard that, Styx!” Nick hissed over his shoulder. “You better watch where your words are going, unless you want K to read an extensive and possibly not-very-positive report about you during the mission.”

Sending an apologetic smile to Styx, Diamond paced to catch Nick just as they all made it outside the hotel.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh to Styx?” she questioned, following him towards the car.

Nick eyed the agent who was strolling behind them without hurry. “I like the kid, but he’s too arrogant and thinks he has it all figured out. He can’t learn if he doesn’t observe and listen; that’s how I learned, and that’s how I’ll teach,” Nick stated matter-of-factly. “I’m Obi-Wan to his Anakin. Jedi to his Padawan.”

“Kinda reminds me of someone in his early days.” She poked Nick playfully in the side as they got into the car. “There you go,” she said, when a small smile appeared on his lips. “Just give him time; he’ll learn.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, starting the engine, as Styx took his place in the back seat.


± ± ±


Di glared up from the magazine she was reading. “Would you please stop doing that? It’s annoying.”

Nick stopped in the midst of his tapping on the wooden table. “Stop what?” he asked innocently, the melodies of the song still playing in his head.

“Stop that.” Di placed her hand on his. “The tapping. And humming ‘Mambo No. 5.’”

Nick grinned. “I’m bored!”

They’d been sitting at the airport pub for the past hour and a half, waiting to board their flight to Germany. It was all a mystery to him that it took this long to fly from one European city to another, but unfortunately, the next available flight to Munich wasn’t going to take off for another hour. And it didn’t really make the wait easier when they knew a bunch of Feds were on their tails.

Puffing, he leaned against the chair. “My bum went numb.” He searched through the pub for the sights of Styx. “How long could it take a person to grab two beers?”

“Give the kid a break, Nick,” Diamond mumbled, without looking up from the magazine.

“He’s slow!” Nick hissed, when he saw Styx coming out from the corner with two large glasses of beer. “May the Force be with us if he’s be THAT slow in an actual combat.”

“He’s so new, and he’s just learning.” Diamond rolled her eyes. “If you let him, of course. Even K wasn’t that harsh on you when you first started, and you’re just pushing him too hard, unnecessarily.”

Nick opened his mouth to argue, when the ringing of his phone cut him short. Just about at the same time, Styx placed the cold beer in front of him and plopped down onto the chair next to Nick.

Nick groaned when he saw the caller ID flashing on the screen. Just what he needed.

“00Carter,” he answered huskily, which took Diamond’s attention from what she was reading. She raised an eyebrow to Nick questioningly, only to receive a shrug.

“We got the next clue solved, Carter,” Leo’s voice was heard on the other line. “The plane ticket to Germany is a set-up. The clue leads to France.”

“France?” Nick asked doubtfully. “Are you sure about that, Di-Crapio?”

“Look, dumbass, I really have no time to deal with you, alright? Just do as I say, and go to France.”

“We have stronger evidence, let me tell ya. I hardly think she’d just plot the whole scheme and NOT go to Germany. How can we know that your clue isn’t the trap and the lead we discovered is? Can you prove it?”

He heard Leo sigh exasperatedly on the other end. “We’re working on the same side, Carter! Shocking news huh? We’ve been racking our brains here to figure out a bunch of fucking gibberish on a piece of paper that is encrypted in some old World War I code-”

“What’s he saying?” Diamond wondered, when Nick kept listening silently. Being silent and listening were not exactly his best skills. Especially not at the same time.

“France,” Nick mouthed slowly.

“Is she going to France?” Styx questioned.

Nick gave his attention back to Leo, who was still explaining on the other line. “You should remember the first clue that we found in the Library of Congress, a bunch of words encrypted in a weird code. Opal figures out the code, and there comes another bunch of words in some unknown language. Thanks to Opal, we figure out it’s Scottish Gaelic, and we translate it to English, and voila, there comes the meaningful text – or, should I say, a part from a well-known book in literature, none other than the Harry Potter-”

“Harry Potter?!” Nick cut him off in mid-sentence, only to confuse Diamond and Styx more.

“Shut up and listen. So we figure out it’s Harry Potter, and the passage is actually pointing to somewhere in London. So we go there, only to find a new piece of paper with another set of meaningless words written in another code. Like I said, we’ve been racking our brains all day to find out what it was. And the ever-genius Opal figures it’s Übchi – an old, World War I era cipher, used by the Germans in the war. So next we have to find out what was used as the key word and whether the duplicates numbered forwards or backwards. And here Jay has the brilliant idea that since everything she does involves books, the key word must be about books – or about literature, anyway-”

Nick let out a snort. “Wake me up when you start talking English again.”

“Would you be serious for a minute?” Leo sniped. “This may sound like a joke to you, but we actually take what we do seriously-”

“I don’t need a lecture from you for what to take seriously or not.”

“Whatever. You want to hear the rest or not? Because, seriously, I’ve had enough with your crap.” When Nick was silent, Leo continued. “Okay, what was I saying? Yeah, about literature. Jay thought the key could somehow have a link to literature. But I also thought that it had something to do with World War I, so we started trying all the famous novelists that have written something about World War I. We tried Barbusse, Rebecca West, Rolland, Stallings… you name it. Finally, we found out Remarque – Eriche Maria Remarque, that is; of course you wouldn’t know – was the key. He was a German author who wrote ‘All Quiet on the Western Front,’ the most popular anti-war book of the World War I period. Ring a bell?”

To be honest, it didn’t. Everything Leo was babbling on the phone was too detailed for Nick’s taste, too much unnecessary information.

“What’s going on, Nick?” Diamond couldn’t hold herself back anymore. “I want to hear what he’s saying; put him on speaker!”

Nick ignored her request. “It doesn’t, and I don’t give a shitball,” he spoke finally. “While you bookworms have got your noses buried deep in the history of literature, we’re the ones trying to catch a felon here AND run away from the FBI all at the same time! So I don’t have time to dwell on the details. And frankly, nothing you just said made a damn bit of sense to me, and I still can’t see how this could be stronger evidence than a flat-out plane itinerary to Germany, where we know she’s heading!”

Leo’s patience was growing thin. “Because it fucking makes sense! There’s a pattern there! She steals books, she leaves clues from books, and she’s pointing out where she’s gonna be stealing from next! Her first clue lead to London, and she stole Beowulf. Does your brain function at all, or did you lose it on a plane ride somewhere? The text we deciphered was in fucking FRENCH. Do you care at all what it says?!”

“Fine.” Nick heard the rustling sound of the papers on the background.

“So here it goes: Is a prison the fitting place to talk to me about power, grandeur, and even royalty? You wish to make me believe in splendor, and we are lying hidden in night; you boast of glory, and we are smothering our words in the curtains of this miserable bed; you give me glimpses of absolute power, and I hear the step of the jailer in the corridor,- that step which, after all, makes you tremble more than it does me. To render me somewhat less incredulous, free me from the Bastille; give air to my lungs, spurs to my feet, a sword to my arm, and we shall begin to understand each other.

“So according to your theory, what book is that from?”

The Man In The Iron Mask,” Leo replied. “It was talking about Bastille, and I read the book a while ago, so I could remember it easily. Do you know anything about the book at all?”

“I’ve seen the movie.” Nick shrugged and then snickered, as his face lit up. “Speaking of which, that dude looks kinda like you with long hair. Though, I have to admit, he was better looking than you, even with that iron mask on.”

“Okay, do you have any idea what those two are talking about?” Styx muttered to Diamond, who shook her head, causing her new raven locks to dance around her shoulder.

“Fuck you, Carter. Just cancel the flight to Germany, and go to France, alright? The next plane to Paris takes off in half an hour, so you better rush. And that’s a direct order coming from Jay, if you’re interested to know.” With that, Leo hung up.

“Finally!” Diamond let out a hiss when Nick put the phone down. “What the hell is going on, Nick?”

Nick got up from his seat, taking a big gulp from his now warm beer. “I got a bad feeling about this. It doesn’t feel right,” he muttered. “Come on, I’ll tell you on the way. We have a plane to catch.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were all buckled up in the comfortable first class of Air France.

“I still don’t get why you have a bad feeling about going to France,” Diamond wondered, as she watched Nick tense up on her right, grabbing the sides of the seat tightly. She smiled and put her hand on his arm, in hopes of soothing him. His fear of flying… she’d always found it cute. “I think Vitruvian has a very strong lead that could take us to the thief. We should follow that instead of Germany. Why don’t you trust his clue?”

Oh, don’t you start using his fake stupid alias. Because I hate his guts, and he’s always trying to get his way around you, and you’re falling for it, and it’s just annoying to see that, to top it off, you believe him now, Nick thought inwardly. “I just don’t,” he replied dryly, as plane took to full throttle.

Diamond looked across the aisle. Styx had his headphones on and eyes closed, tapping his feet along to whatever he was listening to.

“Don’t be such a whiny baby, you,” she teased Nick. “We’re trying to catch this woman and we’re all trying to do our best here, I believe Vitruvian has the same intentions that you do. Give people more credit, will you?”

Nick shrugged and closed his eyes, as he felt the wheels of the plane left the ground. He could use a nap.


± ± ±


Federal Agents Tom and Hank stood in the now-vacant hotel room in Beijing, looking around for any clues as to where the insufferable Carter and Ms. Desai were headed.

“I need answers!” Tom barked. “C'mon, gentlemen!”

“Tom, give them a break. They knew agents were coming. Someone warned them, and-” Hank was unable to finish his statement.

“Warning, warning!” Tom shouted. “If they’d taken what I told them seriously, the field agents would have them in custody, and we would be taking them home.” He glared at the two agents who had been sent out from the FBI’s office at the American Embassy in Beijing to apprehend the culprits while they were still on the flight to China.

“The only thing going our way is the fact that that pompous Carter called us,” Tom grumbled, as he walked away and punched some numbers into his cell phone. “Carl.” The Boston accent was stronger than usual. “The only lead we have that is Desai is with Carter. Get this: he said he'd call later.” He paused for Carl to respond. “Yeah, I got it.”

Tom hung up the phone and punched more numbers into it. He looked over at Hank, who gave him a questioning look. “Littrell!” Tom barked into the phone. “It seems you might be holding out on us. Carter called us and told us they were together. We need to know what you know now, or else this is going to turn out very bad for you in the end.”

Hank watched as Tom listened, presumably, to Brian Littrell on the other end. Hank did not know the words that were being said, but he could tell it was not what Tom wanted to hear.

“We wait for the Carter kid to call us,” Tom growled and threw himself into the nearest chair.


± ± ±


“00Prick better be on his way here,” grumbled Leo, as he stuffed his cell phone into his pocket. “So help me, if he takes the other team to Germany instead…”

“Chill, dude; they’ll come,” Jay assured him. “Nick may not like you, but he’s got enough respect for me to haul his ass here if I tell him to. And hey, if he doesn’t, we can always get K on the line to chew him out.”

The two men chuckled knowingly.

Opal didn’t even smile. She stood apart from them, frowning down at the piece of paper in her hand, then looking up and around the square. She did this several times before she asked, “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Jay consulted the map of Paris he’d picked up at the airport. “I think so. This is Place de la Bastille.”

“Well, then, where’s the Bastille? I mean, I know it’s been demolished, but I thought there would be something here, some ruins or… something.” Her eyes scanned the modern buildings that surrounded them: an opera house, a subway station, numerous cafés and bars. The only thing that looked historical was the monument in the center of the square, a tall column she’d thought for sure would have something to do with the Bastille. It had stood out like a beacon, drawing her straight to it, but the plaque on its base revealed that it had been built to commemorate the July Revolution of 1830 instead. “Do either of you see anything even related to the prison?”

They all looked around, puzzling for a few minutes. “It has to be somewhere in this square,” Leo said assuredly. He was the one who had led them here. “This is where the Bastille used to stand.”

Maybe we should ask someone,” Opal suggested.

Jay scowled. “We don’t need to ask for directions. It’s a clue; it’s for us to figure out. We can do it; we did with the last one.”

“Yeah, but the last one led to a pretty specific place…”

“If you’re a Harry Potter nerd like Jay,” Leo interjected, flashing Jay a teasing grin.

“… This one just points us to the Bastille, which no longer exists,” Opal continued smoothly. “The next clue has to be here somewhere, but look around – this square is huge! It’s going to be like finding a needle in a haystack unless we know where to look. We need to ask someone who’s familiar with the area where there might be some remnant or reference to the actual Bastille.”

“Alright, fine. You’re the woman; you go get the directions,” said Jay flatly.

Opal looked to Leo, who nodded in agreement, still grinning. “Fine,” she sighed, and set off to find someone who didn’t look like a tourist. She spotted an old man, leisurely sipping coffee outside a sidewalk café, and approached him hesitantly, self-conscious of her hot pink hair and crazy, Europunk outfit. She was too old to dress this way; she looked like a rebellious teenager. Then again, it was Jay who had picked out her new wardrobe, and he wore eyeliner and painted his fingernails black, so she shouldn’t have been too surprised. “Excuse me, sir?” she asked the man politely in French.

He looked up from his drink. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m here studying the Bastille, and I was hoping you could point me in the direction of any relics of it that might be preserved here.”


The old man frowned, scratching his whiskery chin. Finally, he replied, “All that’s left of the prison is a pile of stones from one of the towers. They were excavated from underneath the subway at the turn of the last century. They’re in the Square Henri Galli now, down Boulevard Henri IV.” With his gnarled index finger, he pointed down a nearby street.

“Thank you!” Opal thanked him profusely and hurried back to Jay and Leo. “This way!” she said excitedly, leading them in the direction the man had pointed. They clipped along Boulevard Henri IV at a brisk walk, not realizing how many blocks they’d gone until they could see the Seine River up ahead. Just before it, they came to a small park, the square the old man had named, and it was there that they found the circle of large, stone bricks that had been part of the Bastille.

The small monument was unimpressive compared to the massive July Tower, but it was surrounded by beautiful flowers. Opal picked her way carefully through them, Leo on her heels, and squatted down to read a small plaque at the base of the stones.

VESTIGES DES FONDATIONS
DE LA BASTILLE
LA TOUR DE LA LIBERT…
D…COUVERTS EN 1899
ET TRANSPORT…S SUR CET EMPLACEMENT


The plaque was in French, but she translated into English as she read it out loud. “Remains of the foundation of the Bastille, the Liberty Tower, discovered in 1899 and transported to this location.”

“This is it,” Leo said confidently. “Start looking. Check all the cracks; it’s probably wedged between two stones.”

They split apart, working their way slowly around the pile of rubble, running their hands over every stone, poking fingers into every crevasse. Jay and Leo even had small flashlights, which they shined into the cracks too tiny to reach, but they found nothing.

“It’s gotta be around here somewhere!” cried Jay in frustration, kicking at one of the stones. “Where else could it be?”

“Maybe we were right the first time,” said Leo. “Maybe it is back in the other square, where the Bastille actually was.”

They’d been so sure they would find the clue in the pile of stones, none of them wanted to admit they were wrong. They searched the monument one more time, but still came up empty-handed. Admitting defeat, they turned and headed back to Place de la Bastille. The long walk took even longer than it had the first time; they trudged along, slowly and silently, deep in thought.

Opal stared down at her feet, watching the sidewalk give way to cobblestones as they entered the large square. She noticed large white paving stones set into the smaller, gray cobblestones, forming a sort of pattern – an almost-complete circle that veered off into perpendicular lines stretching off in two different directions. A corner, she thought, and it was then that she noticed a small plaque on the wall of a nearby building. Leaving the men, she scurried over to read it.

PLAN DE LA BASTILLE • COMMENC…E EN 1370
PRISE PAR LE PEUPLE LE 14 JUILLET 1789
ET D…MOLIE LA MÊME ANN…E.

LE P…RIMÈTRE DE LA FORTERESSE
EST TRAC… SUR LE SOL DE CETTE PLACE
14 JUILLET 1880.


“Guys!” she shouted, running back to Jay and Leo. “This could be it! Look down… these white stones, they mark the perimeter of the building; they show where the Bastille stood! Maybe the clue’s under one of these!”

The two men glanced down skeptically. The flat stones seemed firmly embedded into the ground. But Opal was convinced she was right. “We just need to find one that looks like it’s been disturbed,” she said confidently.

They set off, walking the “wall” of the Bastille as if it were a balance beam. They followed the perimeter across streets and around buildings that it seemed to cut right through. Even to the crowds of tourists, they must have looked odd – two grown men and a pink-haired woman, walking in a single file line with their heads down, eyes fixed firmly on the ground.

Even her careful attention did not prevent Opal, who was in the lead, from catching the toe of her Chuck Taylors on one of the stones and tripping. She stumbled forward, arms outstretched, and managed to catch her balance before she fell. Far from being embarrassed, she whipped around to look at the stone she’d tripped on. Jay and Leo were already squatting on the ground.

“This one’s been messed with,” said Jay, his brown eyes large and gleaming. “It’s uneven. Someone’s pried it up and tried to wedge it back in again, but it’s not a perfect fit. This is it, kids. Help me get it up.”

Opal stood back out of the way as Leo and Jay strained to pull the heavy stone out of the ground. With a lot of grunting, they finally managed, flipping it over onto the cobblestone. Leo’s hand shot out to snatch a small, plastic baggie that had been flattened beneath the stone. Opal’s heart began to race with excitement as she saw the white piece of paper folded inside.

She and Jay crowded around Leo as he opened the bag and pulled out the next clue.


± ± ±


When Nick, Diamond, and Styx arrived in Paris, they took a cab straight to the location they’d been asked to meet, a little sidewalk café that overlooked a marina. Nick eyed the boats wistfully, but there was no time to dawdle; Leo, Jay, and Opal were waiting for them. As the two teams greeted each other and gathered around a pair of tables they’d pushed together, Nick noticed Leo being quiet, avoiding the new arrivals’ gazes. Something was up. Nick could feel it.

“Alright, pretty boy,” Nick shot out to Leo. “What's next?”

“Well, the good news,” Opal started, “is that we found another clue. The clue is written in a pictogram language that I am sure I can crack.” She whipped out a piece of paper to show the second team the new clue.



Everyone looked at the most recent clue. “Looks like the little men are dancing to me,” Styx chuckled to himself

Opal stared at Styx for a moment, lost in thought. “Dancing men,” she repeated. “There is a code that uses...” She got up and wandered away from the group, concentrating on the page with the encrypted clue in her hand.

“She said that was the good. That means there's bad?” Nick asked, glaring at Leo. Whatever it was, he was sure it was his fault.

Jay slid into Opal’s seat, putting himself between Nick and Leo, and turned towards Carter. “There's been some news,” he started. Jay looked serious, and Nick knew he wasn't going to like the news.

“Have the Feds caught up to us?” Nick scowled. He saw the group shake their heads. “Brian isn't in any more trouble?” He was just starting to like that guy; he didn't want to see him lose his job or, worse, end up in a federal prison.

“No, according to our sources, the Feds are still running around like chickens with their heads cut off back in China.” Jay looked from Leo back to Nick. “We just got word that another book was stolen.”

“From France? Do you think there's still some time to catch her here?” Nick looked around, half-expecting to see the woman standing around watching them.

“The book was not stolen from here,” Leo interjected. “It was stolen from the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek.”

“The what?” Nick, Diamond, and Styx said at once.

“The Bavarian State Library, sometimes referred to as BSB,” Leo continued. “It’s one of the best research libraries in the world.”

“One of the forty-eight remaining copies of the Gutenberg Bible was stolen from the library. It was a perfect copy on paper and one of the only two copies with an index of rubices,” Opal explained, dropping back into an empty chair across the table from Nick.

“So we were on our way to Germany, and this 'agent’-” Nick sarcastically emphasized the last word. “-tells us to come to France, that we were wasting our time going to Germany, and…” Nick finished his statement by yelling in aggravation, “You know what, Di-Craprio, it seems to me that you’re sabotaging us on purpose!”

“Me, sabotaging? And where exactly is Drums right now?” Leo shot back.

The two agents rose from their seats and stood almost nose to nose, staring each other down. “Don't test me,” growled Nick. “You question my skills, and this is what you get! A chance to catch the thief, ruined by this growing pain!”

“Chill,” Jay interjected, moving between them again.

“Nick, take it easy. It was an honest mistake.” Diamond stood up beside Nick and placed her hand on his shoulder, attempting to calm him down.

Leo smirked briefly at Nick, giving him a look that seemed to say, Ha, she's defending me.

Still glaring at Leo, Nick slipped his arm around Diamond's waist and smiled broadly. “Come on, sexy. We have a plane to catch.”


± ± ±