Opening A/N: HEY GUYS, I'M BAaaackahackhack (falls over coughing) ARGH OKAY I'M FINE. But yeah, over the weekend I contracted a DEADLY DISEASE (the common cold) and was also ABDUCTED (had to work). I am still sick and working but hopefully you can expect more regular updates for now! And remember, I've actually already written most of this story, so I'm trying hard to make sure that the update times aren't so far apart.
Also, you can all go shower smaller with love, because she's like 90% of the reason I kicked my butt into gear and updated the story TODAY! She sent me a review specifically asking about updates THIS WEEKEND and as I sat on the couch with my Puffs Plus and my laptop, I said "yeah this weekend sounds good and reasonable especially since I can't exactly remember when I last updated." (Showers smaller with appreciation) GOOD JOB
Side Note: aaahhhh this was meant to be up an hour ago but the Internet cut out for no good reason aaaahh
Disclaimer: If I owned Les Mis I wouldn't be trying to make money in retail aarrrghh. Or at all, come to think of it. I would be able to afford to BATHE in money. Which would be awesome. Kind of wasteful, but PRETTY AWESOME all the same.
As a well-known and respected member of the community, Valjean had been permitted into the group of policemen and reporters gathered in the street near the bank. For an hour he had been trying to find out what was going on, but no one was telling him anything.
Finally, one of the reporters – the popular woman from the local news channel – came over to where he was sitting and looking distressed. "Hello, sir," she greeted him politely. "My name is Chanel Burke. I'm with the local news channel – perhaps you've seen me on TV."
"Yes, I've seen you," Valjean said with a sigh that was aimed more at the general situation than her, standing up to shake her hand. "My name is Jean Valjean."
"I've noticed you going around and asking a lot of questions. Are you somehow related to what's going on?"
"Yes, I am. The – the inspector, who's in there – he is a very close friend of mine."
"Oh, really!" Mlle. Burke's voice held only sympathy, though her expression betrayed the greatest interest. She moved closer. "Would you – would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"
Valjean knew that she wasn't trying to be insensitive; she was simply doing her job. And it wasn't as though he was doing anything else at the moment.
"Go right ahead."
Rendalt seized enough loot from the vault boxes to fill six large bags. Javert did not point out that this was far too much for Rendalt to escape with, nor did he complain when Rendalt forced him to carry them all out to the lobby. Javert did not see the purpose of this; the best reason for it that he could come up with was that Rendalt somehow planned to walk out of the front doors with the bags.
"I want to know what's going on out there," Rendalt muttered, walking over to the plasma-screen television in the waiting area of the lobby. Picking up the remote from a nearby table, he turned it on.
"…Jean Valjean, who claims to be very close friends with the trapped Inspector Javert. Do you know why he would have chased the criminal into the bank?"
"I should imagine that he thought once he was in the bank, he could corner the man and overpower him."
"But clearly that plan didn't work," Mlle. Burke pressed, "since Javert has now been imprisoned and disarmed."
"Disarmed?" Valjean's brow furrowed in a concerned frown. "When did -"
"Oh, you must be really uninformed. The Chief of Police called the bank to ask what was going on and whether or not the criminal had any demands, and Inspector Javert answered the phone. He said that everyone was fine but that the criminal had disarmed him."
"I… I see," Valjean said faintly, still looking concerned.
Rendalt had turned away from the television and was now glowering at Javert, who was standing by the bags and looking tired.
"Who is that man?" he demanded. Javert sighed.
"That man is a friend of mine, as you heard the reporter say. He's the one who called earlier."
Rendalt frowned. "I don't like it." He leveled the pistol at Javert, Cosette watching them anxiously. "I want you to tell him to go away."
And here was what Javert had been waiting for. Though it was impossible for him to stand any straighter, he took one step forward and stopped short. "No."
Rendalt's expression registered no little surprise. As Javert had anticipated, Rendalt had not known what to do in the face of a direct refusal and challenge to his authority; however, this window would be very small, as Rendalt was a man under stress in a situation that he had neither the abilities nor resources to handle. Already his surprise was segueing into anger at Javert's direct disobedience; he knew, and Javert knew, that if he lost control even for an instant, it would be lost to him forever.
"What do you mean, no?" he demanded, his fingers tightening on the gun.
"I mean that I am not going to do anything further that you tell me to do until you release your hostage as well as the people in the vault," Javert informed him, nodding in Cosette's direction as he spoke. Rendalt's expression turned nasty as he aimed the gun at the young woman.
"You will do everything I tell you to do," he threatened, "or I'll shoot her."
The gaze with which Javert matched Rendalt's glare was entirely cool and void of emotion. "No, you won't," he said firmly, "for several reasons, chief of which being that you will not be able to turn that gun from her to myself quickly enough in order to prevent me from crossing this room and breaking your neck for ever daring to threaten her in the first place. But if you do as I say, your situation will at the least have less problems attached to it."
Rendalt went rather pale, his gaze darting between the terrified Cosette, who was now standing with her back pressed against the wall as if she could disappear through it, and Javert, who was still imposing and even threatening, despite the fact that he was injured and Rendalt held both guns and practically all the cards.
Finally, after a long pause, the thief spat out a single word. "Fine."
The doors of the bank swung open without preamble, catching everyone waiting outside by surprise. Instantly a copious amount of guns were pointed at the entrance, but despite the sudden opening of the doors, no one made an appearance until about a minute later, when Javert stepped into clear view of the weapons.
"Everyone is fine," Javert announced before anyone could say anything. His voice, though loud, was calm and controlled, and Valjean permitted himself a modicum of relaxation. "M. Rendalt has agreed to let the captives go. He is releasing the captives now. Please wait until they reach the street to approach them."
He stepped out of sight, and then a group of people came filing out of the doors, several of them crying. There were about 30 people in total, and Valjean scanned the group anxiously, looking for Cosette amongst them. When he didn't see her, his anxiety levels began to skyrocket.
Then Javert reappeared. "M. Rendalt has agreed to let the hostage go as well, on the condition that an unmarked vehicle of sufficient holding capacity for six large canvas bags will be delivered to the back door of the bank, and he will be permitted to leave in this vehicle and not be followed. He also -"
Javert stopped abruptly and whirled about. "NO!"
In a flash he was gone from the door, leaving it open. There was a gunshot, a scream, and then silence that didn't last very long at all as the police rushed into the building.
- I did actually notice just now, while posting this, that JVJ introduces himself as Jean Valjean rather than as M. Fauchelevent. ...shhh that never happened okay. IF YOU DON'T THINK ABOUT IT TOO MUCH, YOU DON'T NEED TO WORRY ABOUT IT. Alright, and now back to your regularly scheduled programming!
A3: Why are these chapters so short THEY DON'T LOOK THIS SHORT IN WORD, I SWEAR
Gavroche: EXCUSE ME
A3: Oh man, what is it NOW? Dude, there are NO MORE TWIZZLERS. You ate them all. Like, ALL.
Gav: No, no, look. Someone calling themselves... Gavroche T wants to know why you were so mean to me in the last chapter! Since they share my name, I think they have a valid point! They have a valid point PERIOD!
A3: Uhhh. Er. Mmmm. How can I explain this... it was for the sake of... humor.
Gav: WHAT
A3: Yes. Ah. Somewhere, far far away, someone was sitting in front of a computer screen laughing because you ran out of the room crying and I felt bad about it.
Gav: ...
A3: I SAID I FELT BAD
Gav: YOU'RE A HORRIBLE PERSON
A3: Oh come on you don't mean that OW alright FINE maybe you did THAT WAS MY ONLY LEFT FOOT OW
Gav: E'rryone! Review and tell Triple A to stop being mean to me!
A3: (Falls onto sofa) ARGH I THINK YOU BROKE MY IRON MAN SOCKS. Also dude, I'm SORRY! I'm used to ENJOLRAS! I can't handle all this childish sensitivity NOPE DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH MY OTHER FOOT GET AWAY