Chapter 01. Prologue - Down in the Deep Blue
It was now a few minutes since the Inspector Javert stood staring at the dark wooden door behind which had disappeared just before 24601, no, Valjean, his personal nemesis, the fugitive, the saint ... The man whose capture had become his lifetime goal.
Javert had encountered him a little more than an hour earlier, at the exit of the sewers, covered in mud (and something else, judging by the sickening stench that his body emanated) carrying on his shoulders the seemingly lifeless body of one of those kids of the barricade; there the man had begged the inspector to leave just another hour of freedom to him for a chance to rescue the wounded boy, to find him a doctor or other assistance.
He surprised himself to accept Valjean's heartfelt request without many problems, even (incredibly enough) he had helped the ex con, calling a cab passing there and accompanying him to the home of the boy's grandfather, where he had been left in the care of servants ,and then escort him to his quarters, in Rue de l'Homme Armée no. 7.
Here he had allowed the older man to enter, to attend the last formalities pending and (probably) to say goodbye to his adopted daughter, saying that he would wait outside, to arrest him officially.
With every passing minute, however, his conviction to what the law, and his own moral, required him to do was crumbling like sand: how could he stop now Valjean? If he had placed the dilemma just a day before, he would certainly laugh; arresting finally, after all these years, that thug was his DUTY, and would certainly have also brought a good deal of personal pleasure!
But now ...?
In just a few hours that day, his beliefs and certainties were finished upside down: he had witnessed acts of courage of that man, who arrived at the barricade with the specific aim of saving at any cost, and succeeding, the life of the beloved of his young daughter with no regard for his own safety; furthermore he reluctantly also found to have to the former criminal even a life debt, because Valjean after having requested and obtained permission to execute him personally to be a spy, had instead permitted him to escape through a hidden area of the barricade, without asking nothing in return from the inspector and indeed, covering even the flight with a shot in the air.
As he was so brooding, a slight noise roused him from his thoughts, making him look up: at the window of the first floor, lit by the dim light of a candle, appeared the unmistakable profile of Jean Valjean, apparently busy tinkering with something on a shelf in front of him. Javert found himself staring at the other man dazed for a moment, then as if he had been slapped, he spun on his heels and walked away almost running from the house, his face contorted in a painful grimace.
Those who had seen him at that time, would have struggled just to recognize in that curled and tormented figure the austere and irreproachable Inspector Javert, that with a pale face walked along dreamily, almost haphazardly directed towards the banks of the Seine.
Javert not noticed, however, that with its rapid movement he made a rather loud scraping noise by his foot on the pavement, and that at the ajar window Jean Valjean, surprised, raised his gaze and noted with concern the sudden departure of the policeman.
For a moment he dismissed the scene answering himself that probably Javert was going to call for reinforcements, but then he observed better the other man and noticed the strange way in which he moved, shoulders down and broken up steps, almost as if he was running away.
He asked himself why.
He stood at the window to observe the figure in rapid removal of the inspector for a while, then with no particular reason he felt invaded by a sudden sense of alarm, like a punch in the stomach that made him almost doubled over. He raised his eyes again towards Javert, now almost disappeared down the street.
"I must be crazy ..." He muttered to himself, before quickly racing down the stairs in pursuit of the man who was supposed to arrest him.
Meanwhile Javert found himself crossing a bridge over the Seine, and lost in thought stopped himself about halfway, leaning his elbows on the stone parapet, sighing and closing his blue/gray eyes for a moment. What he should do now? How could he handle that dilemma? With a shudder he huddled on himself, slamming his forehead and his fists on the parapet, in a sudden gesture of anger and despair.
"What should I do?!" He exclaimed in a choked voice.
He raised his face to the sky, as if to ask for advice to the stars, but found himself staring only to a dark and cold void... His eyes widened as a shock, and seemed to him to have received the answer on what was to be his solution.
Stifling a gasp of fear and putting down his hat at his side, he climbed over the stone wall, finding himself sitting on it with his legs hanging over the dark and noisy waters of the Seine, his tarnished look staring at everything and nothing at the same time.
Jean Valjean for a while had lost sight of the inspector, and he feared that he could not reach it. He started running without bothering to do more or less noise with his feet on the pavement to avoid being noticed, and finally sighed with a relief that surprised even himself at the sight of Javert stopped on a bridge.
Approaching to him, he then realized immediately that something was wrong: the other man in fact was not only stood leaning against the parapet, but he was strangely sitting above it, remaining dangerously poised just above the deepest part of the river.
He wondered briefly what the inspector was doing, but approaching he noticed the restless expression of Javert, his knuckles resting narrow his hips ... Overall the desolate air that all his figure emanated. He then made a more handful of steps, cautious.
Javert then seemed to be collected from his thoughts, jerked his chin for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, then he let himself simply fall forward.
Valjean's eyes widened and he runs immediately to the bank of the river, reaching it in a couple of strides and without even realizing the cry that automatically escaped from his lips. He heard the noise of the body that collided with water, then, with his heart pounding in his ears furiously, he lunged also among the current.
Javert had already made his decision. He closed his eyes briefly murmuring in his head a prayer (even if he knew that for him there wouldn't be a place in Heaven after the act) and slipped off the bridge without a sound, resigned.
"Javert! NO!"
That scream suddenly made him open his eyes shooting, just a moment before touching the surface of the Seine.
The violent dip in the chilling river did leak from him out immediately all the air that he held inside the lungs, leaving him breathless to squirm while the dark waters closed again above him, shoved in a corner of his first instinct to reach the surface at all costs while his hands feverishly went to tighten the neck, trying to keep himself from trying to breathe and swallow so the water.
Vain attempt.
While the cold and brackish water filled his lungs and stung his eyes, he found himself thinking vaguely that he did not expect to die that way, in fact, he hoped to beat maybe some rocks with his head and lose consciousness immediately...
Oh, and it was ironic that even now, at the end of his life, the ghost of Jean Valjean appeared before him, hand outstretched toward him as if to give him eternal salvation. He allowed himself a small smile before everything became black, finally.
Valjean had not thought twice about resolutely confront the murky waters of the Seine, plunging blindly and stretching his hands trying to find the inspector disappeared beneath them.
Finally after a few frantic minutes he believed to glimpse Javert's form and taking a breath he disappeared too, swimming fast in that direction, extending an arm and grabbing with a grip of steel a flap of the sleeve of Javert, and then returning up to the surface immediately.
Resurfaced with a hoarse breath, he pulled the limp body of the policeman upward too, turning to look at him worried; when the other man did not react at all, keeping his eyes closed and gently bowing his head back against Valjean's arm, the older man prayed in his heart hoping that he was only unconscious and trudged with difficulty swimming to the shore trying to keep the Inspector's head out of the water.
Finally he managed to reach the shore, and with a great effort he rolled Javert outside the river, then he dragged himself close to him with a groan.
For a moment he found himself prone on the ground gasping and trying to regain his breath, but then he shook himself rising to his knees beside the body lying of the inspector; noticing that he was not breathing, but simply laying motionless on the sand, while his lips were acquiring a worrying bluish color.
"Don't you dare to die now!" He shouted, starting to push Javert's ribcage trying to revive him, his eyes wild "Do not even try! Damn!"
It had passed few more minutes, and Valjean was about to enter into a panic, but just in that moment Javert shook suddenly, raising his head and spitting a large amount of water, gasping and coughing violently, then sink back again groaning and losing again immediately senses.
Valjean, still kneeling, found himself staring slightly lifted the man on the ground beside him, now that he had finally started to breathe on his own, although a little hoarse.
He noticed then the conditions in which both were: wet as chicks to the core, Javert with his hair slightly loose and scattered on the ground, himself without a shoe and with his shirt torn... He wondered what he should do now to solve the situation.
For a while, the only sound besides the quiet lapping of the river was the intersection of their gasps.
END CHAPTER ONE