A. N. Fasten your seat belts everyone... and please, please leave me a word as to what you think. You know how happy it makes me. Although I doubt you'll be happy with me after this chapter...

Chapter 24

BBC News

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Erik moved silently past the open bedroom door and listened to the even, rhythmic breathing of the sleeping Volchok and his wife. He mentally cursed his own stubborn insistence at making the raid himself. Micheil had argued vehemently against it, saying it was far too dangerous for Erik to undertake personally, especially knowing as they did that Volchok and Domaslav were actively hunting him. He had allowed Micheil's men to proceed him to disable the security system, which had been surprisingly basic and out-dated. He was glad now that they had also provided him with the layout of Volchok's cramped apartment, making it somewhat easier to navigate the tiny rooms and narrow hall. Volchok lived simply in the same apartment he and his wife had occupied since their marriage, and before his rise to power in the Russian mafia. He chose not to flaunt his wealth, although Erik knew of at least two large estates that he owned far beyond the prying eyes of Moscow.

Though he hated to admit it, Erik was feeling the effects of fatigue that night, having spent the previous two weeks playing a cat and mouse game across Europe with his pursuers, strategically picking the times and places to be seen. Wearing identical clothing including the telltale mask, he and Micheil had, on more than one occasion, made it appear as if he was in two places at once by registering in hotels in different cities under Erik's name. He had also been in and out of Moscow a couple of times, going so far as to flagrantly meet with an old friend whom he knew to be an enemy of Volchok.

Stealing from Volchok had originally been Micheil's idea, although Erik doubted the mobster kept much of value in the modest Moscow apartment, and besides, both he and Volchok were wealthy enough that gaining or losing monetarily meant little more than the principle. However, the surveillance photos had revealed a glass display case hung in a prominent place in the living room, and Erik felt sure that he knew what it contained.

He was halfway across the room to his objective when he heard the bedsprings creak as someone shifted and moved. Erik froze, praying that the Volchoks would remain asleep. A moment later, he heard footsteps shuffling out into the hall and knew his prayer wasn't going to be answered. Soundlessly, he flattened himself against the wall, partially hidden by a large china cabinet.

He heard someone use the lavatory, run water, and then silence. A moment later, the door to the small bathroom opened, briefly spilling light out into the hall. Footsteps started in his direction, and hardly daring to breathe, Erik grasped the lasso hidden inside of his jacket, ready in case whoever it was decided to come past him into the kitchen. He cursed his luck; he didn't want this to turn into a bloody confrontation. Erik's purpose was purely intimidation, to throw down enough of a challenge to force Volchok come after him personally.

After what seemed like eternity to Erik, the nocturnal Volchok changed his mind and decided to return to bed. Erik held his position for almost another hour until he was sure that the pair was sleeping soundly again.

The display case wasn't locked, and Erik risked turning on a small penlight to examine its contents and confirm his theory. A bonanza as far as his plan was concerned as it held Volchok's military medals. Quickly grabbing the three that would mean the most to Volchok, he carefully wrapped them in a handkerchief and stowed them in an inner, zipped pocket of his jacket for safe keeping. Before shutting the display case and disappearing down the fire escape, Erik removed the mask from his face and carefully placed it where the medals had rested.

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Christine exited the House of Guerlain and strolled down the Champs Elysees, on her way to meet up with Kevin at one of the several picturesque cafes found on the famous Parisian avenue. She had treated herself to a bottle of one of Guerlain's iconic perfumes as well as one of their newer offerings, still unable to believe that she no longer had to worry about money and pinching pennies. Between the inheritance from Raoul, and what she now earned with Expanded Edge, Christine was wealthier than she ever dreamed she'd be.

Paris was the third stop of the European tour following London and Amsterdam, and Expanded Edge's concert the night before had been hugely successful. Christine was only sorry that she hadn't been able to talk to Erik about it. In fact, she hadn't spoken with him at all since she'd arrived in Europe; she could only assume that the business he had alluded to must be keeping him tied up. Still, there was a part of her that hoped that she would get to see him while they were both in Europe.

She entered the busy cafe, and not seeing Kevin yet, she found a table and on a whim, decided to try Erik's cell while she waited. While Erik and Raoul were as different as night and day, her feelings for Erik had grown steadily over the past year. Now that she realized and accepted how she felt about him, she prayed that he would also be able to accept being loved. So far, he had done a pretty good job at keeping her at arm's length, and she knew she would have to work at overcoming his insecurities and past traumas.

Christine was jolted from her reverie by the obnoxious beep that preceded the recorded announcement, "The number you have called is no longer a working number. If you feel that you have reached..." She ended the call, shaking her head at her inattention while dialing and tried again. Once again, the loud beep sounded, signaling the same recording, but Christine quickly turned it off. She felt tendrils of fear curling around her heart as she thought about what she had overheard of Erik's conversation with his brother - the question about someone finding him, of not wanting to abandon everything. Dear God, had he been found by whomever was looking for him? Or, had he fled ahead of them, abandoning everything as his brother had evidently suggested he do that day on the phone? Christine was suddenly sick with worry considering the equally horrible alternatives.

She jumped when she felt a hand on her back as Kevin leaned down and placed an affectionate kiss on the top of her head before taking his seat.

"What's wrong, babe? It's not like you to be so jumpy and you look pretty upset for someone who's just performed three sold out concerts," he asked, looking concerned.

Although Kevin knew of her growing relationship with Erik, Christine was hesitant to talk to him about Erik's whereabouts, especially given the current situation. Added to that, they were in a very public place, so she tried to play it off.

"Oh, it's nothing - just a bit lonesome. I haven't heard from Erik in a while and I miss the cantankerous old grouch," she kidded in an effort avoid Kevin's questions.

Kevin narrowed his eyes, appraising her. He wasn't convinced by her performance, but he knew Christine would open up to him when she was ready.

"I don't know him well, Christine, but I do know the guy is crazy about you," Kevin told her. "He's awfully intense; he' probably just wrapped up in a project and forgotten to eat, sleep or call you."

"You're probably right," she agreed with a smile, although Kevin noticed that it didn't quite reach her eyes. He was silent while the waiter set down their coffees, a cream pitcher and a basket of croissants.

"I have an idea," he said enthusiastically when the waiter had left, "Since this is our last night in Paris, why don't we get everyone together and go out on the town for a five-star meal? Our flight to Munich isn't until almost lunchtime, so you can sleep in in the morning."

Christine appreciated Kevin's concern and his attempt to cheer her up, but she wasn't sure she was up for an evening of socializing with the band in her current state of mind.

Kevin immediately saw the indecision in her eyes, and renewed his effort. "Come on Christine, it will do you good to get out. How often are we in Paris? Besides, if you're worried about not hearing from Erik, I can tell you this: that man is probably better equipped to take care of himself than anyone I know, so go relax and enjoy yourself."

Realizing that Kevin was probably right and if nothing else, going out might help to keep her mind off of the situation, Christine agreed to go.

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Erik pulled off of the rutted farm road and slid the small car into the ancient stone and timber barn. He had driven non-stop for almost two days from Moscow to this location about 48 kilometers outside of Vienna, changing vehicles and his identity three different times along the way. He laid his head against his forearm on the steering wheel in exhaustion, allowing himself a brief few minutes of rest.

He was meeting Josef Moser here just after sunset. The caretaker of his apartment in Vienna, Josef would play a much more important role now as the bomb expert on the team. It had been Josef who had suggested the unused farm for their meeting. The location was perfect as it was both secluded and had no connection with either Erik or any of his associates or employees, making it virtually untraceable. This was Erik's final stop before moving on to Germany to set the stage for his showdown with Volchok and he didn't want any surprises or ambushes until he was ready to be found.

When he wasn't running through the myriad details of the plan while he drove, his mind had drifted time and time again to Christine. She was the main reason he had decided to run, as by staying, he would have endangered her life as well, and he wasn't willing to take that risk. It had broken his heart to hurl his cell phone, the one for which she had the number, off of a bridge, thus severing his last link with her. The number of the disposable phone he now carried was known by only three individuals - his brother, Josef and one other man on the team.

Erik forced himself out of his reverie and left the car to do a quick reconnaissance of the small farm and the surrounding woods before taking up a position that allowed him an unobstructed view of both the farm lane and the country road leading to it. He hadn't waited more than ten minutes when he spotted a lone figure walking down the road and turn onto the farm lane. Erik waited until Josef was almost upon him before stepping out to reveal himself.

"You didn't walk all the way from Vienna, did you Josef?" He asked incredulously.

Josef shook his head. "No, I took the bus to a village about eight kilometers south of here and then walked back. You said to make sure I wasn't followed."

"Good man. Come - the car is hidden in the barn, we'll wait there until it is fully dark before leaving. I'll brief you on what kind of explosion we need, and you can decide how you want to accomplish it." Skirting the perimeter of the farm and blending into the lengthening shadows, Erik and Josef returned to the old barn.

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Christine flopped down on one of the love seats in the sitting room of her suite and pulled off her boots. She was tired after three hard weeks on the road, and it was already after two in the morning, but it had been a great performance. She felt that she was singing better than ever, and from the reaction of the crowd tonight, they agreed with her. After the concert tonight in Rome, she had gone out with her band to get something to eat and to relax. That was the best part of playing Europe – restaurants, bars and clubs stayed open much later than they did in the States. She still hadn't heard from Erik and she continued to miss and worry about him, but Kevin had been a steadfast friend, and had done his best to allay her fears.

She stretched her legs out and put her bare feet up on the coffee table in front of her, clicking on the television in the hope of finding an old Cary Grant movie playing on satellite, although she'd settle for Fred Astaire. She had mindlessly flipped through dozens of channels without luck when she caught the tale end of a late breaking BBC News report that made her finger pause on the remote, "...entertainment mogul Erik Remondet, after the break."

What in the world was that about, Christine wondered, bolting upright. Erik was never on television, never in the news. He avoided publicity with a single minded determination that was astonishing in its ferocity. With impatience and panic building in equal measures, Christine had to wait through commercials for a jeweler, frozen food, two different drugs, a wireless service, a luxury SUV, and bathroom cleaner. Finally the newscaster reappeared, this time with a shot behind him from the grainy video of Erik on stage taken in the instant that Devon Rhine's friend Mark had shone a spotlight on him.

"Reuters News Service confirmed tonight that the three bodies found last week in the burned out residence of entertainment mogul, Erik Remondet, located just outside of Amberg, Germany, have now been positively identified. One is the body of Remondet himself, and the other two men are known Russian underworld figures, Andrei Georgiev Volchok and a son, Dimitri. The house suffered extensive damage due to a massive explosion and subsequent fire causing the delay in identification of the bodies. Volchok and his son were identified through DNA testing while Remondet was positively identified from dental records. No word yet on why Remondet was meeting with the Russian men. FSB headquarters in Moscow has issued a 'no comment' statement while it conducts its own investigation into the incident. Geoffrey Riggs, CEO of the conglomerate, Shadow Entertainment, with which Redmondet may have been connected, said a statement would be forthcoming in the next day or so. In other news tonight..."

Christine managed to hit the power switch on the remote, but it felt like her entire body had shut down with it. She didn't know how long she sat there, numb and disbelieving. There had been a fire and explosion in one of Erik's houses a week ago and Geoffrey hadn't called her? Geoffrey's concern obviously had been only for the sold out concert tour, the mercenary bastard. Oh God! So this is why she hadn't heard from Erik since she'd been in Europe. Her worst fears of the past few weeks had just been confirmed. She had known all along that even if he was extremely busy, Erik would have found some way to contact her on tour, if only to send his signature ivory rose. With that thought, Christine's emotions finally burst the dam, and she sobbed uncontrollably, her world shattered irreparably.