I walk up to the Salencia estate, dressed in an outfit not too different from my Credit Dauphine attire. Black suit, low heels, silver-rimmed glasses and hair tied back in a tight bun. The heavy briefcase matches my suit. I walk up to the enormous carved oak front door and press the bell. It's answered by someone to beefy to be the butler. He looks me up and down, disapproving.
"Hello, I'm Elena Meredith, with Weymouth International." I proffer a business card. He doesn't take it.
"You late, Ms. Meredith."
"My flight was delayed. I'd like to begin as soon as possible." He nods and moves aside to let me enter. Inside the giant entryway, I can hear a jazz band and the sound of voices filtering through from a room nearby.
"Most of the guests have arrived. Mr. Salencia will be with you as soon as he can tear himself away. Would you like to start with the gallery?"
"No. I'd like to inspect the artifact first."
"Very well, right this way."
He veers off to the left, away from the din of the cavernous ballroom I glimpse down the other hall. Vaughn must be here already. I follow a couple steps behind him as we walk, pretending to adjust my collar as I activate my comm button. I'm rewarded with Weiss' voice on the other end.
"You're live, Sydney. We've intercepted the feed from the internal security cameras. We've got you on the hall cam and Vaughn in the ballroom." I wait for it.
"As a matter of fact, we have a lot of Vaughn in the ballroom." There it is. I duck my head to hide the smile. They really shouldn't let Weiss have the microphone.
"I heard that." Vaughn's voice is a little crackly from the connection. "Next mission, you're bait."
Beefy guy (he never did tell me his name -- cheap intimidation tactic) opens the fifth nine-foot, carved oak door I've seen since I've been here and ushers me into a large, round room. On a pedestal in the very center sits a cube draped in red silk. A few other security types are scattered around the place, along with some rather nervous-looking suits. The suits are sipping champagne and the bouncers are watching me. I stride up to the pedestal and kneel down, flipping open the slender top compartment of my briefcase. I pull out a cell phone-sized device and run it up the pedestal, pretending to take readings. The size of the room and the pedestal provide me a little privacy.
"I'm with the artifact," I murmur.
"Good, they should send Salencia in to meet you in just a minute. Vaughn, that's him with that large group over by the fountain. Go make yourself available." Ok, they really shouldn't give Weiss a microphone.
"Working on it."
"You're working slowly."
"Remind me why didn't they get you to do this?"
"You're prettier than me."
"Don't call me pretty."
"Please, Mike, you're prettier than your girlfriend."
"Hey!"
"Sorry, Syd, I meant his ex-girlfriend. And can I mention how much it scares me that you two are already speaking in unison?"
Vaughn must have reached the group, because he doesn't have a retort for that one. I switch between different instruments and keep taking fake readings, trying not to make any large movements. Dad and Weiss will be recording this and looping it through the security camera in a few minutes when we make the switch.
The large door opens a minute later. The man who escorted me in enters behind a man I recognize as Salencia. He extends his hand.
"Ms. Meredith, I take it you're finding everything in order?"
I frown. "Your alarm measures seem to be adequate, but it disturbs me you keep fifteen people in the room during a security inspection."
He stares at me for a moment, as if he's deciding whether to suspect me or placate me. He raises his head and addresses the room.
"Friends, I need to speak with my associate for a moment. Please, take advantage of the champagne and Franco's food. I'll meet you all in the ballroom in just a moment."
The suits file out. They're used to taking orders form this guy. The beefy guys follow more slowly, looking to the man who led me in here for confirmation. He inclines his head toward the door, and they all file out.
"Is that better, Ms. Meredith?"
"Thank you, Mr. Salencia. As you can understand, my company is quite concerned about this piece."
He smiles. "Yes, I can understand. It took me a number of years to locate such a magnificent artifact. Would you like to see it?"
"Please."
He whips the cover off with a flourish. Under the glass cube is a perfect replica of the statue I inspected this morning.
"It's beautiful."
"That it is. My guests are quite anxious for its unveiling."
"I hope to have it out for them soon. You won't object to a few more readings? The immediate-area security measures are the most important."
"Not at all, Ms. Meredith."
As I start to take more readings of the glass cover, a figure appears in the half-open door. It's Vaughn, dressed in a charcoal-gray suit and slightly iridescent cobalt-blue shirt, with a couple less buttons than I'm used to. Beefy guy jumps toward him. Vaughn steps backward and rakes his hand through his hair.
"Sorry, I must've gotten lost. I was looking for the Impressionists."
Beefy guy takes another step forward, but Salencia raises a hand, and he pauses. Salencia rather blatantly looks Vaughn up and down.
"The impressionists, you say?"
"Yes," Vaughn takes a half-step forward into the room. "I was told your collection was," he does an exact repeat of the once-over Salencia gave him, "rather impressive."
"Mike, you are the straightest gay man I have ever seen." I nearly choke.
"Well, you're in the wrong wing. I keep them next to the pre-Raphaelites."
"A fitting place."
"I thought so." At this, Vaughn gives him a half-grin that I know all too well. It's no less effective on Salencia. He turns back to me.
"Ms. Meredith, what else do you need here?"
"Nothing until it's time for the unveiling. I'd like to accompany the artifact to the floor."
"Very well." He turns back to Vaughn. "Mister…"
"It's Berrei, Marcus Berrei." He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. "My friends call me Marc."
"Marc, I can show you back to the gallery."
Vaughn grins. "I'd like that." Salencia walks to the door and offers Vaughn his arm. Vaughn actually takes it, and the two walk out.
Unfortunately, they leave Beefy behind.
I make a big show of the readings and mutter to Weiss. "We need that guy out of here."
"Did you say something, Ms. Meredith?"
I laugh. "Oh, no, I was just muttering at this meter. The new layout gives me trouble."
He accepts this and goes back to his menacing stare.
"Vaughn, Sydney's going to have some trouble. Deactivate that thing soon and keep Salencia occupied as long as you can."
There's a long pause, I imagine Vaughn can't risk speaking yet. After a minute, Weiss pipes up again.
"Good work. Syd, the alarm is down. The cameras will loop in about thirty seconds. And Vaughn, if his hand moves an inch lower, we're sending in the team. I'm here to protect your dignity."
I start packing up my things, giving Weiss forty seconds before I move toward the door. Beefy moves to intercept me.
"I thought you wanted to stay here until the unveiling."
In response, he gets a kick to the gut. He's fast; he grabs my ankle and starts to twist, but instead of fighting to keep my balance I go with the motion, twisting my body to put my full weight behind the briefcase, which I swing into the side of his head. He's not expecting the weight of the marble inside, and slumps to the ground, unconscious.
"Sydney, great, you've got two minutes. I'm coming around." I hear the crackle of Weiss' mike being passed off to someone else.
I run back to the statue and lift off the cover in one smooth motion. I lift the statue carefully and place it on the floor, opening the main compartment of my briefcase to reveal the fake. I hear voices in the hall. Damn.
I lift the two halves and fit them together as quickly as I can, twisting the base to secure them. I place the replica carefully on the pedestal and lift the glass cover over it. A hand reaches for the edge of the door. With nowhere to go, I slip just behind the door. Two of the suits are back, and the first one freezes when he sees the bodyguard crumpled on the floor. Before he can cry out, I jab him across the back of the neck with the flat of my forearm, and follow it with a kick to the side. He crumples on top of the bodyguard.
I whirl around the half-open door, bringing the full force of my leg against the second suit. He staggers backward a step, and I follow with a kick from my left leg to his opposite side. He crumples, making a guttural sound, and I don't wait to see if he's unconscious. I run across the room, grabbing the statue and my briefcase without bothering to put the remaining instruments back in. I run toward a door on the opposite side of the room. It opens to a dark-paneled hallway, and I run down it, looking for the servant's entrance. The statue in one hand and the briefcase in the other slow me down. I whisper into the comm.
"Dad, are you there?"
"Yes, Sydney, follow the next hallway to your right. Weiss is in place. Vaughn, Sydney's run into trouble. Get out of there as soon as you can without calling attention to yourself."
I veer down the next hall, which is much less decorative, and see a door at the other end. I can also hear voices coming from what I presume is the kitchen just ahead. I slow down and creep toward the entrance. A careful glance reveals a crowded industrial kitchen, with everyone too busy to notice me. I run past the entrance and grasp the door handle. I open it and step into the cool evening air. I quietly shut it behind me and glance around. There's no sign of Weiss.
Before I can react, a figure jumps from the shadows and kicks me across the chest. I reel backward, losing my balance and my grip on both the statue and the briefcase. The figure, who is wearing something like a ski mask, reaches for something on his belt. Before I have the chance to find out what, I kick across the ground in a sweeping motion at his feet. It's not enough to make him fall, but he stumbles and it gives me the time to reach a crouching position. He kicks toward my head and I duck, rolling right into the side of the statute. I ignore the sharp pain in my forehead and put one hand underneath me, enough to spring halfway up. I grab his ankle as it comes around again, bring my other hand up to grab it, and use my weight to fall back and pull him off-balance. I roll to the other side, and he grabs at me as soon as he hits the ground. I put one forearm up in defense and with the other grab whatever I can, which at this point happens to be the facemask. As soon as I do, he lets out a strangled cry, places one hand over the mask, and rolls away, getting a bruise from the statute in the process. As soon as he's out of my reach, he climbs to his feet and takes off running.
It's not worth it to give chase. I get up, grab the statue and start running in the direction of the van. As soon as I round the corner of the house, I freeze. Weiss is slumped against the brick wall, unmoving.
"Oh, please, not again."
"Sydney? What is it? What's wrong?"
"It's Weiss, I need some help--" I reach for his neck, feeling for a pulse. It's steady. I push him down toward the ground, looking for blood. He grunts a little, and I notice a dark, shiny patch on his hair. I can feel a small bump on his head, with a laceration running the length of it. It doesn't seem large, and given how easily head wounds bleed, it probably isn't deep, either. I slap his cheek.
"Weiss, Eric, wake up. Come on, wake up." He moans a little and picks up his head, which promptly lolls over to one side. I hear a sound behind us and whip around -- it's my father.
"What happened?"
"I don't know, we were attacked. He's got a cut on his head, but I don't see any other damage."
"Help me lift him, and we can carry him back to the van." Between us, we manage to lift Weiss up and slowly work our way across the lawn. I'm glad for the cover of darkness. The CIA van is emblazoned with a florist's logo and the driver jumps the curb when he sees up approaching. We open the back and lift Weiss in. My heart freezes at what I don't see.
"Where's Vaughn?"