THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY LOVE POTION

By Andamogirl

WWW

ACT ONE

A week later

New-York railroad yard

The Wanderer, parlor suite

Marmalade peeked over the rim of the cup of coffee, sniffed, and let out a raspy meow.

Sitting on a stool, in front of the table, Artie chuckled and said, "You're such a curious cat, Marmalade. You already know that you don't like coffee." He took a sip of the black, hot, beverage and then stroked his cat, under its chin and the feline closed her eyes in pleasure and purred.

Marmalade butted her head against Artie's hand and she purred again, louder. Then lay on the table, sphinx style, observing her owner's every move.

Using a small brush, Artemus put some transparent liquid glue onto his cheeks and then he placed a fake sideburn on each one. They completed his disguise of phony moustache, his fake eyebrows and wig – all the fake hair being white. To complete his character's appearance, he put a pair of glasses on his nose. He turned toward Jim, seated on the couch, reading the report Colonel Armstrong had given them one hour earlier, and asked, with a French accent, "How do I look?"

Marmie moved on her hind legs and let out a scratchy sound in displeasure. She reached out with a white and orange paw to touch Artie's bearded cheek.

Artie picked her up, setting her on the floor and said, "I'm not asking you how I look, Marmie, because I know that you don't like me changing my face, it disturbs you. I'm still here, I'm still me."

She sat there, tail curled around her and let out a disgruntled meow.

Artemus sighed and scooped her, setting her on his lap. "Be nice!" he said, waving a stern finger. Looking at his partner, "So how do I look?"

Jim smiled. "Mmmm… Old. You have to look like a grumpy old man, so you should add a small goatee and clip a pince-nez to your nose instead of wearing regular glasses."

Looking at his reflection in the portable mirror set on the table, beside the box containing all his fake beards, fake moustaches, fake eyebrows, etc. Artie said, "You're right," and looked again at his partner. "Is there something interesting in the report? Something the Colonel didn't tell us?"

Closing the report, Jim shook his head. "Mmmm… the three men were kidnapped from their beds, in the middle of the night, in their hotel room, at 24-hour intervals. Nobody saw anything or heard anything. The only things the police found were two pairs of footprints, one small-sized and the other large-sized, on the carpet beside the bed and a chloroform-soaked handkerchief on the floor, in Professor Maccione's room." He suddenly frowned and added, "Wait a minute!" he re-read a passage again and added, "Armstrong forgot to tell us that: from the description of this handkerchief it corresponds to a woman's one! Then a woman was there, small-sized footprints, a handkerchief… She's one of the kidnappers."

Flicking her tail playfully, Marmalade lifted a paw and touched Artemus's goatee. Artie frowned at her and tsked twice. "It's not a toy," he said.

Marmie stopped, nuzzled against her owner's chin, and meowed. Artie petted her head.

Puuuurrrr….

Placing pince-nez glasses on his nose, Artemus replied, "It would seem, yes. We don't know who kidnapped the other scientists though. They didn't leave any trace of their presence. They could be the same persons, or not. But they were obviously more careful."

Jim stood and moving toward the table, he said, "You should also add lots of wrinkles."

Glancing at his face again in the mirror, Artie nodded. "You're right, Jim. I have to look ancient. I found a name for my character, Hippolyte Rochefort. I like the sound of it." He smiled and taking the quavering voice of a very old man, he added, "Help me to stand, young man, I need to go to the galley to prepare dinner…"

Surprised, Jim raised one eyebrow. "There will be a grand buffet at the reception ... I know that you're always hungry, but…"

Faux-old Artemus nodded, "For you, not for me."

Meow! Meow!

He sighed looking down at Marmalade curled on his lap, her big eyes demanding. "And for her. She's always hungry too." He suddenly snapped his fingers, twice. "I almost forgot…I have something for you, Jim." He pulled out a silver box from the pocket of his black jacket. He opened it, revealing a dozen of cigarillos and explained, "The ones with the blue paper ring are genuine cigarillos, your favorites. The ones with the green paper ring are dynamite-like explosive cigarillos, and those with the red paper ring are mini-bomb-like cigarillos. You throw them and when they hit something, they explode. I placed them in a box made with a special indestructible alloy, just in case, to be safe."

Smiling, Jim took the silver cigarillo box, and said, "I like your latest invention very much, Artie. Thank you." And he slid it into the inner pocket of his blue bolero jacket.

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Two hours later

Excelsior Hotel, reception hall

Shoulders hunched, face scrunched, with a pair of pince-nez clipped to his nose, Professor Hippolyte Rochefort (Artemus Gordon) moved toward the large buffet.

He met an old woman there, wearing a blue dress with matching necklace and earrings.

His character was grumpy, but not with women, he thought. French men highly respected women. Their gallantry was legendary, he added in his mind.

She looked at Artie and said, "It's the first time I've seen you, Professor…"

He bowed lightly. "Professor Hippolyte Rochefort from the Faculté des Sciences de l'Université de Paris, Sorbonne, Madame. I just arrived. And you are ?"

She smiled, batting her eyelashes seductively. "I am enchantée to meet you. My name is Elizabeth Covington, from the London University, I'm a botanical specialist in exotic plants …"

He smiled, both pleased and proud to see that his perfect disguise could attract a woman. But he didn't have time to flirt, he thought. 'Mission first, old boy', he mused. He said, "I have always loved plants. My wife, Danielle is persuaded that I have the green thumb, but everything green I touch, dies shortly after…" He chuckled softly.

Miss Covington pouted. "You're married?"

Faux Rochefort nodded. "Yes, for 50 years. I still love her like the first day I saw her. It was in Paris, in front of the cathédrale Notre-Dame…"

Miss Covington was visibly disappointed – but for a few seconds only, as she spotted another interesting mustached male beside the large fireplace. 'There are plenty of fish in the sea', she thought. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Professor Rochefort," she said, and left.

Sighing in relief, the special agent took a plate and surveyed the various large presentation platters containing meat, fish, vegetables and desserts… "Oh, yes, mmmm… desserts," and the habitual gourmand Artemus Gordon started to pile petits fours on it.

He was reaching out towards a mini tarte aux pommes, when his hand collided with someone else's.

He looked up at the man who had snatched the tartelet and narrowed his eyes, upset. "It's very impolite, Monsieur," he said with a thick French accent.

The other man, tall, bulky and red-haired, dressed in a badly-made tweed suit just said, "I can't resist apple pies. I saw it first, it's mine."

Hippolyte Rochefort huffed contemptuously – taking in the other man in a flash, and his gaze stopped for a split second on the suspicious bump the brute had under his left armpit – a holster with a gun, he deduced. 'Interesting! Bandit or policeman?' He knew that policemen in civilian clothes, incognito, were mingling with the scientists, to protect them, but people who were 'interested in kidnapping scientists' could be here too, posing as scientists trying to spot a possible target, he thought. 'Okay Artie, it's time for you to let everyone here know who you are and draw attention to yourself – you need to be the next kidnapped scientist!' He raised his chin. "This is not an apple pie, Sir, it's a mini tarte aux pommes! It's different. You see an apple pie is like a tourte with…" He stopped when the red-haired man engulfed the petit four, not chewing it once. He frowned said, scornfully, "Americans!" then he took a mini lemon pie and raised his voice. "You are all big rude, brutes with a pea in the head!" He touchd his chest and added, "French people are well-behaved, polite and intelligent! You are not, Sir."

Immediately the thug moved into Artemus's personal space in a menacing way and glared at Artie, their noses almost touching. "Are you insulting me, little man?" Then he growled, grizzly-like, in an intimidating way. "I could break your old bones like twigs!" He said.

Discreetly, Artie glanced around him and pleased, he noticed that everyone was looking at him. 'Good!' he thought.

He puffed out his chest. "I, Hippolyte Rochefort, chemist-extraordinaire, the best in France! I have never been intimidated by anyone! You're not scaring me – you big mammoth!"

The brute growled, baring his teeth.

Artie heard someone clear his throat, loudly, in the audience and spotted a tall man, dressed in black, with a long scar on his face, staring at the brute and shaking his head reproachfully, brow furrowed in displeasure.

His sixth sense kicked in. The man wasn't a scientist and didn't look like a policeman either – more like a bandit and he was obviously the brute's boss – or partner.

Instantly the thug calmed down, moved back and said, "I'm sorry, old man, I mean Sir. I apologize… I lose my temper easily. Please forgive me," and on that, he left.

He joined the man in black and they both disappeared into the crowd of people gathered there.

He glanced at his best friend standing near the bottom of the stairs and gave him a short nod. Jim immediately followed the two men.

Still in his grumpy old French character, Artemus continued to pile as many petits fours as possible on his plate, salivating hungrily in front of chocolate-covered meringues. 'Mmmm…"

He was suddenly joined by a small, pot-bellied man, almost bald with a thick black beard. "Professor Rochefort? My name is Gunther Eckhardt. I'm a German archeologist. The most famous one…" He said with a thick German accent.

Faux Rochefort nodded. "I have heard about you, Professor Eckhardt… You discovered something very important last month in a remote part of Greece… I read it in the newspaper, a sword…"

Eckhardt nodded with enthusiasm, "Ya, ya, a sword, a plain gold sword! Does archeology interest you, Professor Rochefort?"

Smiling, Artemus nodded, "Yes, I find it fascinating."

Eckhardt grinned. "Really? I'm so glad to find someone who's interested by this new science! And take my work and me seriously." He paused to eat a piece of chocolate cake, and then continued, "That sword belonged to the legendary king of Phrygia, King Midas," he said. "It was a simple sword before he transformed it into a gold sword. It will be the major component of the exhibition on kings and legendary queens of the Antiquity to be held in Washington in a month." He smiled and then added, "Midas's father was King Gordias, the maker of the legendary Gordian Knot. He founded the ancient capital of Phrygia, Gordium, or in Greek, Górdion…"

'Close to Gordon', Artemus thought, hiding a smile. He nodded, "Yes, King Midas… who had the ability to turn everything he touched into gold."

Eckhardt nodded. "Ya, with the 'golden touch'… This sword here is much less famous that its owner, but it is legendary too, because it can turn anything or anyone, like Midas, into gold… But before that, it is necessary to be able to lift it and brandish it twice over the head and nobody was able to achieve it after the death of the king… A lot of people tried since Antiquity – me included - and nobody was successful. Perhaps, one day… "

Artie said, "Midas could transform anything or anyone he touched into gold, but it was more a curse than a blessing. He couldn't eat, couldn't drink, and couldn't touch the people he loved without turning them into gold statues…" He trailed his fingertips on the handle of the sword, totally fascinated. "But this 'power' disappeared when he washed his hands in the waters of the Pactolus, and the sand turned into gold…."

The German archaeologist beamed, impressed by the old man's knowledge. "Very good Herr Rochefort, and who offered that 'power' to King Midas?"

Eying a couple of chous à la crème Chantilly, Artemus responded, "While he was drunk, Silène got lost in the lands of Midas. Midas offered him hospitality, taking care of him. When Dionysus learnt it, he thanked Midas for having taken care of Silène, who had raised him, by granting him a wish. Midas asked the God then for the power to transform everything he touched into gold."

Eckhardt applauded, "Bravo! I didn't know that a chemist could be so interested in mythology. Can I offer you a glass of Champagne, Herr Professor?"

Professor Rochefort smiled. "Mit Vergnügen, Professor."

Eckhardt grinned, pleased to hear the other man speak German." Sie sprechen gut deutsch für einen Franzosen," he said.

Artie smiled. "Thank you. Danke."

Eckhardt gestured toward a waiter holding a tray containing glasses of Champagne. He took two and offered one to Artemus. He raised his. "I propose a toast, to archeology!" he said, smiling. "May that science develop in the future!"

Faux Rochefort lifted his glass. "I agree, and to chemistry!"

They took a sip.

WWW

Discreetly, Jim West followed the tall man in black and the brute into the main street, and watched them enter a house located 20 minutes away from the hotel, in a less populated street.

He climbed the back wall, as the gate was guarded by two men armed with rifles and once inside, he slalomed from trees to bushes, to trees, until he reached the rear entrance of the two storied red brick house. He tried to open the door but it was locked.

He took the lock pick he kept hidden under the lapel of his blue bolero jacket and easily opened the door a few seconds later.

He cautiously entered a vast kitchen, fortunately deserted, and hearing voices coming from the adjacent room, he padded toward the door. He half opened it, slowly, silently and spotted the men he had followed there in a living room decorated all in gold. They were standing beside a large white marble fireplace. Their backs were turned toward him, and he couldn't see the man they were talking to.

But it wasn't necessary. He had recognized Miguelito Loveless's voice.

The little man was saying, "Professor Rochefort you say? A famous French chemist…" He turned toward a man seated in a wheelchair. "I think he would be a great addition to our project."

Focusing on the person seated in the wheelchair, dressed in a black topcoat with a large hood keeping his face in the shadow, Jim heard a croak and then a raspy, broken, voice, said, "Yes… bring… him… here."

Loveless nodded. "It is as if it was already done." Then he looked up at the tall man in black. "Simmons, tell Miss Rodriguez to send her girls to kidnap Professor Rochefort…."

Surprised Jim breathed, "Girls?"

Loveless continued, "They will bring him here after that." He looked up at the brute then, and added, "Brickley, I'm counting on you to make a diversion – that hotel is full of policemen dressed in civilian clothes – divert their attention outside to facilitate the work of Dr. Rodriguez's girls. If you need help, take some men with you."

Brickley nodded. "Yes, Doctor. I just need one man. I'm going to take Oswald, he's clumsy and he's an idiot, and for what I have in mind, he'll be perfect."

Loveless nodded. "Good! Now go! You have work to do." And he watched his two henchmen move toward the door.

Once the two men were gone, he said to the man seated in the wheelchair, "I'll prepare everything for the operation tonight, and I will remove Monsieur Rochefort's brain later."

Jim felt his blood turn to ice in his veins. 'What? Operation? Remove Artie's brain?... my God! Artie!'

Seeing another of his henchmen head toward them, Loveless snapped his fingers. "Bennett, take the Doctor to his room. He needs to rest."

Bennett moved behind the 'Doctor's chair and wheeled it through the door.

Padding back toward the rear door, Jim thought, 'I have to help Artie! Stop his kidnapping, it's useless now that I know where Loveless, his mysterious accomplice and the scientist are. We'll arrest them together with the help of the police and put them behind bars.'

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Excelsior Hotel

In Artie's hotel room

Holding the New-York Herald, Artemus moved on top of the bed, leaned against the sculpted wooden headboard, and glanced at the door.

He was convinced that someone would kidnap him in the middle of the night, and, he was waiting, a pile of all the newspapers he had collected from the lobby settled on the bedside table.

It was 3 AM when he heard someone pick the lock of the door and he closed his eyes – feigning sleep. He heard the floorboard crack and a cloth with chloroform on it was suddenly pressed hard against his nose and mouth.

He felt someone hold his wrists tight, in a vice-like grip.

Playing Professor Rochefort, Artemus abruptly opened his eyes and gasped, looking both surprised and terrified. He struggled weakly, like an old man would, taking deep breaths as if panicking, while trying to break free from a massive woman who was wearing a black leather mask that covered her upper head, down to her lips. She looked like a female wrestler and she was now pinning him on top of the bed.

A second woman, petite, slender, dressed in black like the other one, a mask covering half of her head too, pulled Artie's head back and held the cloth firmly in place.

Soon the chloroform did its job and faux Hippolyte Rochefort found himself unable to move his muscles as if he was really very tired.

Artemus's head started to spin. His eyes closing, Artie ceased struggling and lay on the bedspread, completely unconscious.

The petite woman waited for several more seconds, holding the cloth in place against Artie's nose and mouth to ensure the drug had taken effect before pulling it away, and tucking it back into her jacket pocket beside the bottle of chloroform.

She smiled. "He's out! Let's go!"

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Later

Two gunshots resounded when James West arrived in front of the Excelsior Hotel. There was a dead man lying in the middle of the street, and a second man, as big as Brickley, holding a smoldering gun, without any doubt the shooter was fighting with four policemen in uniform, who were trying to arrest him. Other policemen, in civilian clothes were coming to help their colleagues.

Oswald! Jim immediately thought, and he paled. He had just killed a man at random, to make a Diversion. "Artie's being kidnapped right now!" he said to himself.

Suddenly other gunshots made everyone jump and take cover wherever they could. Two policemen were killed and Oswald too. They collapsed in the street.

Pointing at a man fleeing – whom Jim recognized as Brickley – a policeman in uniform let out, "Let's catch that man over there! He's the one who fired!"

The plain-clothes policemen joined their colleagues.

In a flash, Jim sprang into action: he cleared his gun of its holster and sprinted through the mêlée, rushing inside the hotel.

Outside, the angry policemen were now running after Brickley who had almost reached the end of the main street.

Climbing the staircase at top speed, Jim reached the first floor a few seconds later, ran in the corridor and entered room 14 without knocking… to find himself face to face with two women standing close to the opened window, one petite and slender and one built like a tall bulky man, both wearing black jumps suits and black masks.

The hulky one had an unconscious Artemus hanging over her large shoulder.

In a flash, Jim remembered the footprints left on the carpet during the last kidnapping and knew that it wasn't a man with big feet that had left them. "But a woman! And what woman! A woman built like a mountain!" He thought.

He remembered too Loveless saying, "Dr. Rodriguez's girls."

More like henchwomen.

He would find out who Dr. Rodrigiuez was, later. 'First, I must save Artie', he thought.

His face as if carved in granite, Jim immediately ordered, "Put that man down, now, or I'm going to shoot! Don't make me repeat myself!"

But instead, the petite woman pulled out a gun from behind her back and pointed it at Artie's white head. "Drop your gun or he dies." And to show that she was serious, she cocked back the hammer and placed the barrel against the temple of the unconscious man. "Do it!"

Not hesitating for a split second, Jim lowered his gun and placed it on the floor, to keep Artie safe and because he knew where the two women would take Artemus, the same place Loveless was. It was something the two women had overlooked, he thought.

He hadn't any plan yet, but he would find one in due time, he mused.

He took a step back and raised his hands. "Done."

The petite masked woman nodded. "Don't follow us, or I will kill him. Understood?"

Jim nodded too. "Yes."

The two kidnappers were moving backward toward the window, when the petite woman stopped. "Something tells me that you won't do that, call it feminine intuition," she said. She took a couple of steps forward and pointed her gun at Jim again.

She fired at close range, aiming at Jim's heart.

He had no chance to dive for cover.

Letting out a cry more of surprise than of pain, Jim was propelled backward by the impact and collapsed heavily against the wall.

He groaned in pain and clasped his hands to his burning chest. His vision tunneled and everything faded away.

He went limp.

The big woman chuckled. "Nice shot, Erika, straight to his heart," she said.

Looking at her partner, Erika said, "I didn't trust that policeman. Now he's dead. Let's move out before his friends come here." She looked down the empty street and in front of the hotel, along the facade, she saw a hay wagon with its cargo. "Perfect! You go first Sam."

Holding Artemus still chloroformed tightly against her, Sam stepped over the windowsill and let herself drop into space.

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Loveless's hideout

Operating room

Later

Dr. Miguelito Loveless moved closer to the old man lying on the operating table and rubbed his gloved hands gleefully. "Perfect! We'll have a fourth brain soon."

Looking up at the man assisting him, he said, "You have to shave his head before I can cut his skull." Ready for use was a bottle of disinfectant and a flannel, and his surgical instruments beginning with the saw.

The henchman grabbed a handful of white hair and using a pair of scissors, he began to cut the white hair… and after a couple of minutes, he frowned, puzzled. He had reached some kind of cap of fine fabric… covering a mass of dark hair flattened using a kind of gel. "Doctor, you should see this…" he removed the 'scalped' wig and showed it to Loveless. "It's a wig."

Loveless turned around and blinked twice, very surprised. "What? A wig?" he said, before frowning and groaning angrily. He pulled off one fake goatee, and then removed all the fake hairs from Artemus's face as well as the phony wrinkled skin. "Artemus Gordon!"

Loveless had just said that when the 'Doctor with the black topcoat' entered the operation room, Bennett pushing his wheelchair. "Artemus… Gordon?" he rasped.

Loveless nodded. "Yes, Artemus Gordon. He's a pesky special agent from the Secret Service… and his inseparable partner James West is probably not far." He looked at Simmons standing next to the door and ordered, "You saw James West in San Francisco last month, find him and bring him here. He and Gordon have a private train. Start there."

Simmons nodded. "Yes Doctor." And he left.

The black-hooded man let out a throaty growl and stared at Artermus's unconscious body with a look filled with hatred. "Kill… him. Now," he rasped, speaking slowly.

Loveless shook his head. "He will die, along with his partner, but not now. I have to think about a creative way to get rid of them…"

Suddenly the black-clad doctor grabbed Bennett's gun and pointed it at Artemus's unconscious form, cocking the hammer back. "He… will… die!" he said with a gravelly voice.

Loveless nodded to his henchman and Bennett disarmed the other Doctor in a flash. "No one is going to shoot Mr. Gordon, he's mine."

Suddenly a brunette woman dressed in a flamboyant red dress entered the room in her turn. "No, he's not. He broke into my house, uninvited, and so he's mine." She headed toward the operating table and looked down at the man lying on it. She smiled, appreciating his face. "Mmm… He's handsome…"

Upset, Loveless frowned. "He's special agent from the Secret Service, he's dangerous and he's an old enemy of mine, Dr. Rodriguez. I claim him."

Dr. Rodriguez trailed a finger along Artie's jawline. "He's mine," she repeated. "Your claim is denied, Dr. Loveless. I have plans for Mr. Federal agent here…" Then, she grinned coldly, brushing Artemus's lower lip with her fingertip.

Loveless rolled his eyes. "Women!" he muttered.

Carlotta Rodriguez smiled. "Don't worry, Dr. Loveless, he won't be a threat to us, to our big common project – I'm going to give him a potion of mine and soon he'll be obedient to me like a faithful dog." She turned around and gestured toward her trusted henchwoman, Sam. "Come here, Sam!"

Sam moved her massive and muscular body toward Dr. Rodriguez and stopped beside Artemus, surprised to see his face. "It's not the man Erika and I brought here," she said.

Loveless nodded. "Yes, it is. It's him, but he was disguised. He looked like a very old man. Meet Artemus Gordon, one of the two best special agents for the US Secret Service… the other one is his inseparable partner, James West. By the way, tell me, did you see him? He's medium in size, with broad shoulders and slender hips. He has short dark chestnut hair, a square jaw, green eyes and he is usually dressed in a blue suit with a black hat. He has a black gun belt, black boots… He has a black horse too. He loves black."

Sam nodded. "That man was his partner? Erika and I thought he was a policeman. He tried to stop us at the hotel, and Erika killed him."

Loveless froze, opened his eyes wide and paled in shock. He gulped audibly. "She… what?" he asked the blond henchwoman.

The black-clad Doctor gasped in surprise and let out a strangled noise. "What?"

Surprised to see that the two men were incredulous, Sam repeated. "Erika killed him. She shot him, right in his heart in that hotel room. He's dead."

Completely bewildered, the diminutive man blinked a few times, slowly. "What? James West is dead ? That's… that's impossible. I tried to kill him dozens of times and he survived my elaborate plans each time … He's invincible."

The hooded Doctor rasped, "I… wanted… to… kill… him… myself. He's… responsible… for… what… happened… to… me."

Both Loveless and Rodriguez looked at him in total surprise.

Loveless was the first to ask, "How so?"

The black-clad, hooded man sighed. "It's… a… long… story… let's… just….say…that… because… of… him… I…was… badly burnt… my… whole… body… was… engulfed… in… flames…I…almost…lost… my… voice. It's… a… miracle… I… survived, … but… I… still… suffer… like… hell. Each… second… is… atrocious… torture."

Dr. Rodriguez nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that, but you won't kill this man either. Like I said earlier, he's mine and mine only." She looked at Loveless, with a small smirk on her lips. "Your plans failed, obviously, Doctor Loveless. Nothing beats a bullet in the heart. It's not elaborate but efficient. He's dead, good riddance." She pointed at Artie, still unconscious. "Bring this man to my laboratory Sam, and tie him to a chair."

The henchwoman nodded. "Yes, Doctor." She released Artie from the straps immobilizing him on the operating table and took him in her arms, effortlessly. Then, holding the special agent bride-style, she headed toward the door.

Loveless shook his head in disbelief. "I will believe that James West is dead when I see his corpse, not before. I am going to send one of my men to look for him."

Carlotta Rodriguez nodded. "As you wish, but he's dead, believe me, Erika is one of the best female gunslingers in the West," she said, and then she headed toward the door in her turn.

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Excelsior Hotel at the same time

Professor Rochefort's room

Lying on a bed, James West slowly opened his eyes, shifted and instantly winced at the sudden flare of pain in his chest.

He immediately touched where it hurt and grimaced. "Aaah!" and then he blinked twice, amazed to find himself still alive. "I'm still alive! But-but… how?"

He noticed a man moving in his direction, holding a glass of amber liquid. "Yes, you are still alive, Jim, and you are very lucky."

Moving into a sitting position, hand placed on his aching ribs, Jim smiled broadly, recognizing his friend and colleague Jeremy Pike. "Hi Jeremy!"

Pulling up a chair beside the couch, special agent Jeremy Pike sat on it and offered the glass of whiskey he was holding to Jim. "It's whiskey, I think you need it," he said.

Now puzzled, Jim frowned. "Why am I not dead?" he asked before downing the liquor in one gulp.

Pulling out a silver box from the pocket of his jacket, Jeremy said, "That cigarillos box you had in your pocket diverted the bullet – shot at point blank range, right? But the force of the impact knocked you out – and left you a big bruise. I checked. I found you lying on the floor, half an hour ago, passed out." He took back the now empty glass. "No broken ribs?"

Taking the box, Jim said, "No, it would hurt a lot more. Artie made that box for me, it's indestructible…" and he observed it. There was no trace left by the bullet. "I was keeping it in my jacket…It's saved my life." He abruptly paled. "Artie! Those two women, they kidnapped him!" He stood up, swayed on his feet and grimaced in pain. "I need to find him, he's in great danger!… I hope it's not too late! I know where he is."

Pike nodded. "We'll find him. We. I'm going to help you, Jim."

Intrigued, Jim frowned. "Why are you here? Did Colonel Richmond send you to help us?" Then he slid his cigarillos box back into his inside pocket.

Smiling Jeremy shook his head. "No, I was here in New York for an assignment. I completed it and I was going to leave the city to head back to Washington when I spotted your horse in the street." He furrowed his brow, worried. "Are you sure you're in shape to move?" He saw Jim nod and added, "What happened to Artemus? And to you? What was your assignment?"

Glancing at his gun, again at his side, Jim said, "I'll tell you everything en route Jeremy. We need to stop Loveless and the others…"

Pike cringed. "Loveless, again."

Jim nodded. "Yes, again. But first we need reinforcements. You go to the police station and then you meet me at the house with some policemen."

Then Jim headed toward the door, Pike in tow.

Simmons hiding in a dark corner of the railroad station watched the two men leave the train and discreetly followed them.

A few minutes later Jim and Jeremy separated.

Lovelesss's henchman chose to follow West and he was very surprised to find him head toward Dr. Rodriguez's house.

Tbc.