It was a bright, sunny, day. The sounds of voices and cars filled the streets as Ciel walked onward, stepping past cafes, shops, and apartment buildings all built with all of the charm and appeal of French architecture. People rode past on their bicycles, walked by with briefcases on their way to work or shopping bags on their way home, and waited patiently for traffic signals. A group of older women stood around gossiping while one of their tiny dogs barked at everyone who walked past, including Ciel. The city was bustling and alive. People were going places and doing things, all completely autonomous to Ciel and his mission. They existed there before he arrived and they would be there after he left, oblivious as to what dealings went on in the supernatural world.
Yet, he couldn't enjoy it. He had to pretend, but he couldn't. He had to focus. His senses needed to be sharp. At any moment, someone could be watching him, whether they be human or supernatural. After getting nearer to the site, his first obstacle appeared to be in the prior category. Rather, it wasn't necessarily an obstacle—more of an annoyance.
An American woman—at least, that's what Ciel gathered from the large lettering on her shirt—stood with a group, looking up and around at the scenery. It was a lovely park, indeed, so she should have definitely looked around, but she was oblivious to the young local standing close to her, trying to open her purse. Now, it wasn't any of Ciel's business and he certainly didn't want to make it his business, rolling his eyes at the poorly-hidden scene. Surely, any criminal who made their money by picking the pockets of tourists knew better. An accomplice to block the view of outsiders was a must for a novice, but perhaps the man didn't want to split the profits that day. Who knows? Ciel didn't and he didn't care. Yet, his mind wandered against his will, thinking of all of the things that might be in that woman's purse that she might need. Her phone, her money, and her passport? Definately. It would be a serious problem if she were stranded in a foreign country without any of those things. With a sigh, the Watchdog shook his head.
"Excuse me, madam." he called out, capturing the woman's attention. "That young man has his hand in your purse."
He did get a bit of satisfaction in watching the pickpockets eyes go wide as Ciel pointed at him. The young man ripped his hand out of the woman's bag as both she and what appeared to be her husband turned to see him there with angry expressions. There was a bit of an uproar after that, but Ciel didn't stay to witness it. He wasn't supposed to be noticed, after all. Quickly, he made his escape, venturing further until the irate tourist group was nowhere to be seen.
Making his way to a clearing, he climbed a few steps and found a fountain. It was sculptural with images of women and nautical symbolism, but the water poured from the mouths of lions. They had sad expressions on their faces, but the corner of the Watchdog's mouth turned slightly upward. Taking out his cellphone, he snapped a photograph, thinking his husband might like it before carrying onward. Stepping around to the other side of the fountain, he found what he came for.
Rather, he found "who." Seated on a bench was a bespectacled man wearing a dark suit and a green tie. His long, black, hair was pulled back into a ponytail so that it was out of his face and didn't obscure the ever-present stern expression he wore. He and Ciel had met before, several years ago. It was he who trailed the demons on their honeymoon, back when the beginning of the end for Iscariot's occupation of the country started, allowing for the trip to occur.
"Mister Bretodeau." Ciel greeted as he stood over the man. Tipping his hat and pointing to the other man's tie, he added: "Bulldogs hate green."
"But French ones do." Dominique replied. "You got it right this time, Earl."
"No need to make business harder with pranks." the demon said, sitting down on the bench beside him. "What is the latest progress on Operation Beekeeper?"
"Slow, that's what it is, but, that's bureaucracy for you. It's being prioritised due to Mister Quincampoix's orders, but we still haven't got all of the paperwork in order. Johnathan's ordered expulsion from the country should be finalised by this afternoon, though, if everything goes smoothly. We'll be staying late to make sure it goes through."
"He had his people disguised as police officers at the dock when we arrived." Ciel replied. "The ministers are going to have to do something about that."
"I'll inform my boss. Report it to your people and have them contact him as well for good measure, though."
"Will do. His reach is farther than I hoped. Be careful on your way back."
"Oh, I absolutely will." Pausing, Mister Bretodeau took a package of cigarettes out of his pocket. He held one between his lips and took a puff, letting out smoke as he sighed. "Minister Munier hasn't reported to work in person."
"What?"
"It's true. She's still sending e-mails, though, which we're trying to analyse, and reporting via video conference from an unknown location. A proxy is being used, though, so her ip address is hidden. We suspect your man has gotten to her."
"Damn..." the Watchdog scowled, reaching up to rub his chin in thought. "It would be advantageous for him to go after her… It certainly explains how he's able to post his people on such short notice… It also makes him far more dangerous than I hoped..."
"We have a few locations where she could be, but none of our people are able to get access inside. We suspect that Johnathan would be immediately suspicious if we started poking our noses around ORSAP headquarters."
"What about the other locations?"
"The former owner of the Honeycutt Private Military Group, Mister Honeycutt, has recently and very suddenly sold the company to Johnathan. We suspect he might have gotten to him."
"So, where he is staying, then?"
"Exactly."
"What makes the sale suspicious? Other than the fact that it's Johnathan, of course..."
"No one has seen Honeycutt recently, either." Dominique replied. "He's still renting the same hotel suite, however. Additionally, while no one has seen him, one of the workers at the hotel reported hearing him. He spoke with a British accent. He was American, before."
"I see..." Ciel answered. "Probably a supernatural impostor. He has his own people apart from Honeycutt, I've been told. Well… This news is problematic..."
"Think it can still be done?"
"Yes, but we'll have to be more careful. Leave before I do. I'll wait fifteen minutes before I leave."
"Understood." With that, Dominique let out a sigh. "Listen… I may not like you very much, especially after everything you and your husband pulled the last time you were here, but… I really hope that you're right. It's in your hands, now. Goodbye, Earl."
Without looking at the other man, Mister Bretodeau checked his watch and stood up, walking far out of the Phantomhive's sight until he could no longer be sensed. Ciel stayed behind, staring at the fountain and watching as people walked by. It was peaceful. France was a nice country when it was peaceful. He hoped that it stayed that way.
He could remember when enemy soldiers freely walked the streets, forcing people to stay indoors or worse, try to go about their business as normal. At any moment, any asshole in a uniform could decide they didn't like the look of you and have you hauled away to be beaten or killed. Businesses lot money because of all of the niceties they had to provide the scum out of fear of harm coming to them or their families. Ciel didn't want that to happen again. Knowing Johnathan, he would try and for what? Just to provoke the Phantomhive? That was what really got under his skin about the other demon. He was wasteful. If you're going to destroy the world, then at least do it for something worthwhile.
Ciel's mood was soured so he decided to get up and start walking again. Now the prettiness of the park only annoyed him. He walked past flowers and greenery, spotting the tour group huddled around a statue as the person guiding them spoke. The demon walked past them, realising that he had captured some attention.
"Excuse me!" called out a voice, prompting the man to look in the direction it came from. The American woman from before approached him smiling brightly and waving. "Mister… British man!"
Good job, Phantomhive. Fantastic job, doing undercover. No one would ever know he was there.
"Yes?" he answered anyway, knowing that being rude would only worsen the problem. "Can I help you?"
"You already did!" the woman replied. Loudly. "I just wanted to thank you for earlier! I don't know what I would have done if the guy had stolen my stuff!"
"It was no trouble at all. I'm glad you got away fine." Ciel nodded with a polite smile. His expression faltered slightly and his body tensed as she began digging in her purse. He watched her like a hawk, expecting some kind of weapon, but to his surprise, the woman simply pulled out a small bottle.
"I wanted to give you this." she said, prompting the man to take it. "It's holy water. I got it when we went to Noter-Dayme."
"Nnotre dame
otre Dame?"
"Yes! We simply had to go. Have you gone yet? It's beautiful! Absolutely gorgeous!"
"I've been a few times." he replied, still holding the small bottle in his palm. "Are you sure that you want me to take this? You came all the way to Paris for it, didn't you?"
"Don't worry about it. Consider it my good deed for the day. God wants me to give this to you. It might come in handy! You don't know what's out there! Besides, I already have another bottle and I don't think I can take both on the plane. Just take it. It'll help protect you."
She had no idea just how right she was. If it was the real deal and not bought from some scam artist near the cathedral, then it may very well come in handy. With a smile, the demon placed it in his pocket.
"Well, thank you very much." he said. "I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy your trip. Try the Louvre, sometime."
With that, he made his way back to he hotel, picking up a few more supplies along the way. Chiefly, it was food so their new, mortal, coworker didn't die. Humans are so fragile. They're sort of a pain to take care of. Then again, under these circumstances, it was difficult for Damien to be as self-sufficient as Finny or Revy. The revenant was not human, but he still needed to eat.
After reaching his destination, having made sure that he wasn't followed, Ciel relayed the information to the others. None of them were quite sure as to what to do about Munier, but if Johnathan had her, that complicated things. As the minister of defense, she was able to rally troops that ordinarily, ORSAP would have no authority or need to call, but with Johnathan running the show, he had them wrapped around his finger. If he knew that they were there, it was unlikely that they were going to get back out of the country as easily as they snuck in.
Thus, before they could start their mission, they needed to make a few adjustments. They had to find Munier and make sure she was no longer a threat. Then, they would find Johnathan and kill him.
A/N: Greetings, degenerates. This is a short chapter, I know, but it didn't make sense to not make the next thing it's own chapter. At least, in my brain, it didn't. I'm going to try and get it done quick, but my teachers have decided that online classes mean that it's okay to tell me about the existence of major assignments the day before they're due, so we'll see how that goes.
Until the next chapter, my duckies~!
