Chapter 20: "Cheese mends all ills."

By the time Juliet descended the stairs, the team was gathered in the dining room. Being the only guests, they had been allowed to eat together there provided they supplied the food and cleaned the rubbish away afterwards. Admittedly, the plates were limited to paper ones, and the cutlery was plastic, but the great thing about pizza was that it didn't need cutlery. In the case of Nikko, it didn't appear to need a plate either. Juliet laughed a little at the Professor fussing over his son's blatant lack of manners, and those with their back to her turned round.

"Hey, Juliet, come grab some of this before my bottomless pit of a son devours the lot!" Solomon called, waving a paper plate at Nikko who, reluctantly, rolled his eyes and took it. "Didn't know what you felt like so there's pepperoni, three cheese, four seasons – Maggie insisted – and a Hawaiian."

"Pineapple does not belong on pizza!" Nikko insisted, grabbing another slice of pepperoni. "And I don't even know what half the stuff on the four seasons one is!"

"I'll half a slice with you and you can find out," laughed Maggie. She looked round to Juliet. "Any preferences?"

"Cheese mends all ills," grinned Juliet, sitting down opposite a silent Cal, who hadn't taken his eyes off her from the moment she entered the room. She looked up at him and smiled then looked down the table to the others. "I've broken up with Tony, Anthony," she corrected herself. "But I think at least some of us should return as soon as possible and take a look at that parchment Cal and I brought back from Syria. I, we, think Tony might be Dorna, and that Dorna might be after that parchment."

An icy silence settled on the group, all laughter suddenly frozen in place. Professor Zond put down the slice of pizza he had just lifted. "Are you sure?"

"Well, no," Juliet shrugged, "but if we're wrong there's an awful lot of coincidences piling up around that parchment."

"We think," said Calvin, leaning forward, "that when Dorna nearly caught up with us in those catacombs, it wasn't because they were following us: they were after the parchment."

"And Anthony knows we have the parchment?" Vincent asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

"Yes," Juliet nodded. "I told him about it. Well, not really about it. Not much, anyway: just that it was one of the finds on that trip and that we hadn't been able to decipher it yet. And we talked about how frustrated I was that I couldn't figure it out on my own and I'd agreed to wait on Cal because we found it together, but then when I was there, he was gone and when he was there, I was busy with my PhD! I say we 'talked' but really it was more a case of I vented and he listened. I had no idea, at the time, that the scroll was important, or that Anthony was Dorna. I'm still not sure if he's Dorna! I'm so sorry, Professor!"

"And you put this all together when, exactly?" Professor Zond enquired, choosing each word carefully.

Cal looked at Juliet. She nodded and shrugged in one eloquent gesture.

"Last night in the garden," he answered. "We wanted to talk to Tony first, though."

"What? You wanted to give the guy a heads up or something, Calvin?" Professor Zond shot back, the reins on his temper visibly loosening.

"No, not like that, I…"

"I wanted to see if he would lie to me," Juliet cut in, her voice rising to match the Professor's. "And I wanted to tell him we're through!"

"And give him a reason not to bother waiting around for an easy way in with you!"

"I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't!" Solomon pushed his plate away and stood up. "I'll go call the airfield. Start packing as soon as you're done here!"

Vincent, who had barely moved when Solomon stormed off, carefully folded one hand over the other on the table before him. "Does Anthony have any reason to suspect you think he is working for Dorna?"

Juliet relaxed a little and shook her head. "I told him I was in love with someone else."

Vincent nodded once, as if Juliet had just said her favourite colour was blue. "Direct. Clear. I take it this was after you asked him about his little visit the other day?"

"How?" Cal blinked and frowned.

"What else would Juliet expect him to lie about," explained Vincent smoothly. "Well?"

"It was after," Juliet nodded. "I hope you don't mind, but I said you were still trying to work out how he got in."

Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Then we had better hope he is as ignorant of my identity as I am of his! What was his answer?"

"He said the door hadn't quite latched," replied Juliet, picking at the crust of her pizza. "I knew that was a lie because…"

"Because I've trained you all to close it properly, and set the system to alert us if you don't," finished Vincent. He nodded again. "Very well. I do not believe you would have alerted him to your suspicions. Indeed, he may be more likely to use this as an excuse to pay you more visits and attentions to try and 'win you back'. Excuse me, I will go speak with Solomon. Finish your meal."

Pepperoni abseiled down from the slice of pizza Nikko had frozen holding, its cheese rope pooling around it on the paper plate. His mouth was still open and his eyes darted between Cal and Juliet.

"Do you think Vincent will get him to calm down?" Juliet asked Maggie, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Probably," Maggie smiled. "I wouldn't worry too much about it: what's done is done. Besides: you know what Vincent's security is like when we're away. Tony has only seen it when we've been home, and that was before this new upgrade his 'little visit' instigated!"

"I'm sorry, I'm still stuck on 'you told Tony what?'" Nikko finally managed from the far end of the table.

Juliet rolled her eyes, but she couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face.

"Nicholas, why don't you take that pizza up to your room and start packing," Maggie chastised him.

"You did not just send me to my room!" Nikko gawped.

"Hey," Maggie shot back, raising a warning finger. "At least I let you take your dinner!"

"But!" Nikko tried, but was cut off by a glare from Maggie. He rolled his eyes, picked up the remainder of the pepperoni pizza and, of course, his plate, and skulked off in the direction of the stairs.

"And I think I'll just take this up to Solomon's room for him for when he gets a time out," Maggie added, picking up the four seasons and one of the three cheese pizzas. "I'll be making a start on my own packing after that, so you two take your time."

In the now empty, but for them, dining room, Cal and Juliet looked at each other across the table. Juliet laughed sheepishly and looked down at the demolition of her pizza crust.

"Not exactly what I had in mind for our first date," Cal quipped. "Want me to get you a knife and fork for that?"

"Who eats pizza with a knife and fork?" Juliet laughed back.

"People who destroy the bit you're meant to hold it by!" Cal retorted.

XXXX

"What did the airfield say?" Vincent enquired, radiating a calm that threw Solomon's agitated pacing into stark relief.

"He'll be ready to leave by the time we get there, and something that was probably an insult," ranted Solomon. The pacing continued. "I cannot believe Juliet would discuss something like…"

"She didn't discuss the parchment, merely her frustrations with it," Vincent pointed out. "And Anthony has no reason to believe we are suspicious of him. She told him she was in love with Calvin."

"She told Tony what?" Solomon stopped pacing.

"Exactly," smiled Vincent. "So pay up: you owe me ten bucks."

XXXX

Anthony Blake ran his bloody fist under cool clear water, the basin of the kitchen sink flushing pink with the result. At least it was just a few scratches. One or two fragments of plaster still protruded from his skin. Who knew they could be so sharp? She would have to be told, of course. Not about the fist, or the accusing hole in the wall it had left behind: about the girl. That little witch! How dare she end their relationship! Over the phone, too! She had left him – him – for that oaf! What imbecile manages to seriously injure himself twice in the space of half a year? Nevertheless, the girl had decided the nerd was a better prospect than a successful businessman, and the news would have to be passed on to his employer. She would not be pleased. First, just as he had everything in place, the girl and her colleagues jet off somewhere and leave their building locked up tighter than a…

The sound of Anthony's phone cut through his thoughts like a hot knife through brains. He cursed and grabbed the nearest towel, wrapping it round his hand as he stormed into the next room in search of the device.

"Blake!" Anthony barked out. "Who is this?"

"Someone it would behove you to treat with a modicum of respect, Mister Blake," growled a voice Anthony was not familiar with. "My sources tell me our plan is being delayed again?"

Ah, so that was who they were, Anthony thought. "They left suddenly," he replied, his brain laying down words on his tongue like a cartoon character laying down railroad tracks before the train they were trapped on. "Possibly a few days, possibly a week. That was all she would tell me."

"Really? All?" The voice seemed to be both threatening and wheedling all at once. "That does not seem to provide sufficient motivation to put one's hand through a cheap apartment wall. I do hope you can get that fixed before the landlord finds out."

Anthony frowned, glancing at the ragged hole in the wall. Suddenly he stood straighter, his shoulders pulling back and down, his eyes no longer angry but alert. He scanned the room. There was nothing new here. But they were watching him – they must be – so there had to be something. Something added to something old then.

"Oh, my dear Mister Blake," sighed the voice, disappointment mingling with boredom. "I thought you were supposed to be good at this! There really is no point searching every little trinket in that room: you will not find what you are looking for."

"Do you really expect me to take your word for that?" Blake shot back, silently cursing the fear that made the words sound like a challenge.

The voice laughed. "Heavens forbid! Turn around Mister Blake."

Anthony turned, slowly. When he was facing the window the voice instructed him to stop, to look down. He knew what he would see before he saw it. The tiny red dot hovered over his sternum.

"I can still get in there!" Anthony argued. "The plan is delayed, not done for! Just wait for them to return! Once they're back…"

"Once they are back you will be persona non grata," the voice pointed out, dripping ennui. "Do you really think we would only ensure we had eyes on you? You were supposed to deal with your competition, not hand the girl over to him!"

"I thought I had!" Anthony retorted. "I did exactly…"

"Clearly you did not," pointed out the voice. "Otherwise we would not be having this conversation."

"It doesn't matter," he spat back. "It just gives me a reason to be around even more than previously. It even gives me a reason to test their security systems! Everything I do from here on out can be made to look like I'm just trying to win the little witch back!"

"An interesting choice of words for someone with your background, Mister Blake," purred the voice. "Very well: you will have two days once the Professor and his little band of acolytes return. You will retrieve the scroll in these two days or we shall have no further use for you."

"I swear, I will not let you down," gasped Anthony, finally releasing the gust of stale air that had been trapped in his lungs.

"Look on the bright side, Mister Blake," a smile seemed to lace an undercurrent of sweetness in the voice. "If you fail us in this, I can at least guarantee you that you will never fail another soul again."