The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.
The Cabbala.
"When you were young and your heart was an open book
You used to say live and let live
(You know you did, you know you did, you know you did)
But if this ever-changing world in which we're livin'
Makes you give in and cry, say live and let die
Live and let die, live and let die, live and let die
What does it matter to ya
When you've got a job to do, you gotta do it well
You gotta give the other fella hell. (…) – The Wings "Live and Let Die"
Warning: Violence, explicit language, possibly gore.
Timing: 2015, for particular timing of the characters original universes, see footnote of their respective chapters.
Rating: M, possibly MA.
Pairings: Wilhelmina and Allan (past). Wilhelmina and Orlando (friends with benefits).
Disclaimer: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen original comic books © Allan Moore and Kevin O'Neill. Neverwhere (in character of Lady Door) © Neil Gaiman. Atomic Robo © Brian Clevinger and Scott Wegner. Stargate Atlantis (in character of Spike the Wraith) © MGM Studios. Hellboy (in character of Karl Ruprecht Kroenen) © Michael Mignola. Slenderman © Eric Knudsen (as Victor Surge). The story © Czarna Archer.
Dracula (in character of Wilhelmina Murray) by Bram Stoker. Allan Quatermain by sir Henry Rider Haggard. Orlando (or his/hers alike) by Virgina Woolf.
Seek and Destroy.
"(…) There is no escape and that's for sure
This is the end, we won't take anymore
Say goodbye to the world you live in
You've always been taking and now you're giving
Running on our way, hiding you will pay
Dying one thousand deaths
Running on our way, hiding you will pay
Dying one thousand deaths
Searching, seek and destroy
Searching, seek and destroy
Searching, seek and destroy
Searching, seek and destroy (…)." – Metallica "Seek and Destroy".
oOo
Paris. The late morning two days later.
Door sat in a café watching the people walking past the window, each minding their own business. She and Kroenen have spent the previous day achieving absolutely nothing despite their best efforts. They knew that the Jihadists were in Paris and that they left after a week, it meant that they found something here. But finding out what it was and where it was, was another thing entirely. She only hoped they wouldn't have to spend a whole week searching for a needle in a haystack.
She sighed and rested her chin on her hand. She and Kroenen split after leaving their hotel. Previous day he spotted a military shop and went to get himself a gas mask for spare part to his own, unique mask while she went to the café to eat some breakfast. They were to meet there at 10 o'clock but she was expecting him to be late since the shop seemed to be rather well supplied and Kroenen was probably spending some really happy time there surrounded with all things gas mask related. She even feared that she would have to go and extract him from his little heaven should he not show up until 11-ish.
"Excuse me, Mademoiselle?" She heard a voice next to her table and lifted her eyes to see a young and handsome man with wide, charming smile. He was speaking English with French accent that softened it gently, it actually sounded very pleasant. "I see you are sitting here alone, waiting for someone… perhaps a man?"
"And if I do?" She asked pretty sure what he was trying to do.
"I could not help but notice that you are waiting here for a long moment now." He continued. "The chance may be that he will not arrive."
"It depends." Door replied, the man was rather confident of what he was saying and that was rather unnerving. She was not accustomed to people from Above being able to notice her or focus on her long enough to strike a conversation, especially young men assuming they know better about her appointments. "Do you know the exact hour when I am to meet my companion?"
"Of course not, my apologies." The man's charming smile turned into a bit troubled one. "But would you mind if I would monopolise you until your friend will arrive?" He momentarily regained his composure. "My name is Adrien Daupin 1)." He bowed.
"Your presence will not be required, Herr Daupin." A dark figure appeared behind the charming young man. "I am here already."
"You came early." Door leaned a bit to get a better sight of Kroenen.
"The seller was very competent." Kroenen focused his attention on Door. "She was also very helpful, aiding me in choosing the correct accessories."
"Delightful." Door smiled knowing that competent help made shopping much more pleasant experience. "But do not be rude, this young gentleman was just being friendly."
"Too friendly perhaps?" Kroenen came closer and gave Monsieur what could only be a suspicious lens (and probably a suspicious eye underneath it).
"I assure, Monseigneur, that I had no ill intentions." Young Mr Daupin replied with hint of offend.
"Of course not, Monsieur Daupin, you were just friendly. I am Lady Door of House Portico." She gave Daupin her hand which is immediately kissed. "And I seem to recognise your name."
"Yes, indeed, my Great-great grandfather was Chevalier Auguste Daupin. Some members of our family inherited his love of solving mysteries, myself included. I am a private investigator." Daupin explained with smile. "Though I am yet to make a name for myself."
"And this is Dr Kroenen." Door gestured at Kroenen.
Kroenen snapped his heels together and nodded but did not stretch his hand to Daupin. Daupin in turn nodded to Kroenen and didn't made any gestures indicating that he was eager to shake the other man's hand either.
"Now, let's sit. A moment of friendly conversation won't do us any harm." Door decided and both men sat. "You seem to be familiar with my companion, Monsieur Daupin?"
"His name is familiar." Daupin admitted. "You understand that because of my family interest I have some knowledge of… unusual matters. Matters of the kind that most people do not take interest in."
"I am guessing that the familiarity of Dr Kroenen's name is not of the favourable sort?" Door asked pinning Daupin with sharp stare.
"It is not, but I am troubled now. I do not understand what someone like you, clearly an English noblewoman, would do with war criminal."
"I am not a war criminal." Kroenen protested. "I was never sentenced as one."
"Monseigneur, I have seen photographs of you wearing an SS uniform, your mask is very characteristic, quite hard to be mistaken for, say Doctor Caligari's, especially that the madman was an old man at the time." Daupin gave Kroenen cold stare. "I find it hard to believe that every time a picture of you was taken you were participating in masquerade, you would have to be partying through the entire war non-stop."
"I have worn the uniform, I have performed many duties but I have ever only served one master, and it wasn't the Fuhrer." Kroenen took a deep breath; he was beginning to get tired of explaining himself to everyone. "And that is as much as I am willing to explain."
"Regardless, I do not understand how an English Lady would end in company of a German ex-Waffen SS officer." Daupin returned to his previous inquiry giving Kroenen a stare but the other man did not protest. "Unless there is a reason for your presence other than social interaction."
"I will not deny that. But your presence is a nice surprise to us, or at least it is to me." Door smiled warmly to Daupin. "As a private investigator you have extent knowledge of Paris without a doubt and I would love to take advantage of that."
"Mademoiselle, you can take advantage of my in any way you please." Daupin replied with smile of his own, only his was much less innocent.
"Doctor Kroenen and I are investigating something… Something that I am not at liberty to reveal, but it is of importance to everyone in Europe." Door proceeded to explain, she knew that she was threading on a thin ice here, she needed to reveal as little and gain as much as possible. "It would be safe for you to assume that we're dealing with international security here, we require information from someone who knows where to look for certain types of people in Paris."
"International security? This would explain why you found yourself in company of someone like Doctor Kroenen." Daupin leaned back in his chair. "Ask Mademoiselle and let us find if I can be of any help."
"We need to find a Rabbi, a Cabbalist or someone with historical knowledge of Jewish folklore." Door explained. "But not official one, we need someone… Someone with arcane knowledge that is not revealed publically…"
"You ask me a difficult question… Paris is a large city and it has large population, finding such a person is a challenge that most would not be able to face." Daupin tapped his chin in thought. "I must say that personally I do not know anyone like that. But my father who taught me, he walked streets of Paris his entire life and knows many of its secrets. He should know." Daupin pulled a mobile phone and called someone, presumably his father. After a moment he started to speak in French, the conversation didn't last very long though and after a moment he put his phone back into his pocket. "Well, I was right."
"And?" Door looked at him with anticipation.
"You're in luck. My father knew few such people, I don't think they're still alive but one had a son and I can direct you to him." Daupin took a paper napkin and started to write an address on it. "Now, there's the matter of payment."
"I do have funds at my disposal for such occasions." Door nodded.
"Oh no no no, Mademoiselle, I do not want money." Daupin shook his head. "I was hoping to obtain your phone number."
"Phone?" Door eyes grew round. "Ah, but I do not own a phone, I rarely need to use one."
"That is a terrible shame, because I'd love to call you sometimes." Daupin pulled disappointed face and handed her the napkin. "I hope you do not blame me for trying, you are a beautiful woman."
"I wouldn't mind but I really do not have a phone." Door took the napkin. "But there's nothing in the way of you giving me yours."
"Naturally!" Daupin started to scribble something on another napkin. "I do understand that you are bound by this case but after you are free you can call me any time." He gave her the second napkin.
"Thank you Monsieur Daupin." Door stood up and Daupin jumped to his feet to shake her hand. "And until we, hopefully, hear each other again."
"Yes, Mademoiselle Door, and bon voyage, I wish you best of luck." He kissed her hand.
Kroenen didn't say anything; he just snapped his heels again and nodded to the young man who replied him with not very vigorous nod of his own. The walked out of the café leaving the Frenchman behind.
oOo
Kroenen parked their car at the address given them by Daupin. The house looked unassuming; four stores high, not too pretty but not devastated either. Door checked the address again but it looked like this was the place.
"Are you certain you have the address well?" Kroenen asked.
"I do, are you sure you drove us in the right place?" She replied with question of her own.
"Yes."
"Then it is the place. Let's go." Door opened the door and got out of the car. Kroenen followed her closely.
The flat they were looking for was on the third floor. The building was old and there was no elevator, they had to climb old wooden stairs that cracked mercilessly when stepped on. It was only Door who generated any noises though, Kroenen managed to stay soundless by walking near the wall where the old wood didn't make any unholy noises sounding like a coffin being opened.
Finally they found themselves in front of the door they were looking for. Neat paintwork announced anyone who would care enough that this was, indeed, number 9. Other than that there was no indication of who could live here. There was no electric doorbell whatsoever but Kroenen spotted something he thought he would never see again in his life. Just under the flat's number and above the spyhole was a contraption not unlike a key sticking from a tiny dome-shaped metal bowl. He reached it and turned – it made a noise. Door looked surprised at what happened with the device.
"It is a mechanical doorbell.2)" Kroenen explained.
There was some shuffling behind the door, someone probably took a good look at them through the spyhole and decided to see what is going on because a moment later there was some loud noises of locks being opened. The door opened a bit but there was a solid looking door chain securing them so they could not be opened any further without the owner's will.
"Who is it?" A voice of elderly man asked in French.
"We're looking for Rabbi Isaac Apfelbaum." Door answered. "My companion and I are in need of assistance."
"I did not ask who you look for or what you need." The voice took a shape of a man in his fifties or at least a head of a man in his fifties. "I asked who you are!"
"I am Door and this is Karl." Door decided to omit Karl's surname.
"Your names mean nothing to me!"
"Sir, most people's names will mean nothing to you, probably because you do not know them." Door said in as gentle voice as she could, the man was starting to work on her nerves.
"I like it to stay that way." The man growled unfriendly.
"Sir, we come to you for help, we're looking for someone or something and we need your knowledge of the subject." Door tried again. "You were recommended to us by Monsieur Daupin."
"Daupin… that name I do know." The man admitted and his voice changed into less hostile tone. "But you I still don't know."
"Open them and let them in, for mercy's sake." Another voice called from behind the door, this one even more elderly than the voice of the man that was at the door. "You do not need to dispute everything on the doorstep where all neighbours can hear it."
The man they were talking to growled under his breath, closed the door shut and then opened it again, this time there was no chain.
"Come in, take your shoes off, I will give you carpet slippers." He said letting them in.
They both looked at their legs – both had knee high boots only Door was lucky enough to have laces while Kroenen had jackboots that were harder to take off.
The man vanished for a second, returning with pair of comfy looking slippers and watched them taking their boots off. Door managed without many problems by simply unlacing her boots while Kroenen was forced to perform rather undignified series of jumps while attempting to take each of his boots off.
After Kroenen was finally freed of his dreaded footwear they were graced by their slippers.
"At least that was amusing." He said without so much as hint of smile.
"Thank you, Rabbi Isaac." Door accepted the slippers she was given – which by no means were feminine or her size.
"I am not Isaac, that's my father, I am Aaron." The man said.
"I'm sorry." Door apologised. "Rabbi Aaron."
"I am not a Rabbi, at least not officially." The man sighed. "You're probably looking for my father."
"Can he be bothered?" Door asked.
"We will ask him." Man named Aaron gestured to a room on his left. "He rarely has visitors and rarely speaks with people these times; he doesn't get out anymore because of his legs and age, so be quick."
"Of course, we do not wish to disturb you but are forced by circumstances." Door explained walking into the room.
The room was not too large but bright and tidy though it was clear that two men live here. One wall was covered with books resting on thick wooden shelves, all the books looked old and used. There were no pot plants of the window but there was white, delicate lacy curtain flanked by heavy, plush looking drapes in shade of honey.
"Now that my son got you in, I want to know your full names."
Door and Kroenen's heads snapped to an arm chair containing a man that looked old enough to remember the Versal Treaty.
"I am Lady Door of House Portico." Door introduced herself and then looked at Kroenen not certain if she should tell his actual name.
"You sound English, young lady." Rabbi Isaac moved his eyes from Door to Kroenen. "Go ahead. I might be an old man but I still have relatively good eyes and your friend doesn't look English to me. No." He said and his eyes narrowed, they looked surprisingly young in his wrinkled face. "Not at all. In fact, he looks very German to me. Am I right?"
"I am Doctor Karl Ruprecht Kroenen." Kroenen spoke calmly in the lowest voice he could with his damaged throat.
"And you have the nerve to come here!" Aaron shouted. "You good for nothing Nazi murderer!" The man reached for a walking cane. "Why are you here, you came to finish what you and your kind started? I'll show you!" He took a swing as if to throw the cane at the ex-Nazi."
"Leave the man, boy." Rabbi gestured at his son who immediately lowered the cane. "The war is over, it ended long time ago. I have survived."
"Only because you escaped." Aaron reminded his father.
"It doesn't matter."
"You seem to recognise me yet I do not remember ever meeting you." Kroenen patiently ignored Aaron in favour of his father.
"I remember you from the war, we lived in Lyon when you and another SS-man came with soldiers, you have ordered us to be taken away." Isaac explained. "I remember your mask, although you seemed much taller back then. I remember you looking through my father's books. I know your name because one of the soldiers called you by it. It has been over seventy years but I remember it well. You were strict and allowed no disobedience."
"It is possible; I was in Lyon, but only for a week." Kroenen admitted. "I was called back to Berlin to resume my other duties3)."
"And now for some odd reason I meet you again. I was but a boy and you were an adult4) back then but today I am an old man and you don't seem to have had aged a single day even though you should be dead long time ago." Isaac made a short break to catch his breath after his short speech. "Whatever caused it, there is a reason for you being alive still, be it for greater good or for greater evil, I have no other choice but to respect the will of forces behind it. And not only one question begs for answer: what brings you, Karl Ruprecht Kroenen, here?"
"Orders." Kroenen answered plainly. "Her orders." Kroenen turned his head to Door.
"We have spent the entire previous day looking for two men, dangerous men, and today we were directed to you, Rabbi." Door took out two pictures and stepped closer to the old man in chair. "They are dangerous and were seeking for something in Paris. They have left the city and headed west, we must stop them."
"There were two young men who came to us." The Rabbi nodded. "Not long ago, but you have to give these pictures to my son, he was the one who spoke to them."
Door turned away and gave the photographs to Aaron who took them and stared at them for a long moment.
"Yes, these are the two. They came to us looking for help. They said that they're two Jews from Israel who were studying in London."
"They weren't studying in London and they're not Jews from Israel. They're ISIS Jihadists." Door revealed in hope that telling the truth would make their hosts more helpful.
"Like the ones who shot people in that malign magazine?" Isaac asked with shock clear in his voice.
"Yes. Only we fear that these two are planning something big, much bigger than just shooting people." Door nodded.
"They have said that they were cousins and that their grandfather came to Israel from Europe some years after the war. They were looking for their ancestors who were migrating all over Europe and that their last trace led them to Paris." Aaron explained. "I couldn't help them much because many Jews left for Israel after the war, but they asked if I could direct them to places where there have been larger Jewish communities in the past so they could try to pick their loose threads there."
"And?" Door eyes widened, they finally had a trace to follow.
"I have directed them west, many Jews migrated from Spain in the middle ages and I knew of few places where they could look. Of course assuming their ancestor was from this part of Europe. I also told them that should they not find anything they might look in Eastern Europe."
"Thanks you, could you tell us the places you directed them to?" Door asked.
"What proof I have that you're not the ones working for ISIS?" Aaron asked defensively.
"That would happen to be because we work for British Intelligence." Door took out and presented her temporary documents. "And these two are being MI6s former archivists who defected to the ISIS."
Aaron glared at the documents for a moment. They were in English but he spoke it a little and had no problem reading what was written there. Of course it could be fake, but these two looked crazy enough for it to be real, an impostor would do their best to look like an actual agent. Also there was a fact that the girl spoke with English accent and that the man spoke with heavy German one and his father identified him. Anyone could cross- dress as some ex-Nazi goon, but Aaron Apfelbaum trusted his father – an impostor could not know if his father even met Kroenen or remembered him.
"I will write you the names of the places." Aaron walked out of the room.
The process of putting the boots back went much more smooth than taking them off and soon they were walking down the croaking stairs with addresses of places where they could find the Jihadists.
oOo
Random service station south-east of Paris. The same time.
Two thirds of the second team waited in a minivan at a service station for Robo to finally be done with paying for the gas. Spike and Slenderman were sitting in silence; neither of them felt any need to contact with the other man.
Spike glanced at the clock on the dashboard and considered strolling into the store where Robo vanished moments ago to drag the robot back to the car but he was spared the need to do so when Robo finally emerged from the store and marched to the car.
"Took you long enough." Spike noted sourly when the robotic man entered the car and closed the door.
"There was a line." Robo replied. "You know I can't just push myself before other people just because I am famous, that's cheat… "Robo was interrupted by his communication array pinging. "Hold on, someone's calling..." He pressed a single digit to where his ear would be if he was a human. "Yeah, Robo… Kroenen! Why I am not surprised, hold on, how come it is you who's calling? What does it mean that phones work funny with Door? I know she can use phones… oh, wireless phones won't do… but you're calling from a pay phone. Oh, yeah, I forgot that mine is wireless… Why do you… what do you have? Okay, spill it." Robo listened for a moment ignoring Spike staring holes in him and Slenderman poking his head above his shoulder, clearly with curiosity. "Nah, we've passed that one yesterday and the other was not on our way. It'll do, we'll be there in two hours, meet you there then. You will have a chance to see why I hate when Door is doing her… That many? We'll have to get there before them; sure, we can decide when we'll meet." Robo nodded even though neither Kroenen nor Door could see him. "Have fun with Door's idea of transportation." He added and disconnected.
"What happened?" Spike asked for both himself and Slenderman.
"They have it, an entire list of villages and towns. We're meeting in two hours." He said starting the engine and driving off. "We'll have to see where we can set a trap at out two birdies. If we can outrun them that is."
TBC
OK. Since while LoEG fic, the LoEG is in itself a crossover, so do not worry if you won't be familiar with any of the characters, if the need will arise it will be explain and if you will have any additional questions or something won't be clear, you can also contact me and ask and I will answer you to the best of my abilities.
1) Oh yes, of these Daupins. I couldn't help myself.
2) Yes, these things were real. I remember having such thing at my door when I was but a child. It made awful noise that made my teeth itch.
3) Project Ragna Rok. Kroenen was hunting for any occult books obviously.
4) Karl Ruprecht Kroenen was born in 1897, in 1940 he was 43. Rabbi Isaac was a boy, so assuming he was, say, 9 in 1940, then Kroenen is 34 years older.
