The old nag trotted up to the grand stairs of the old museum, followed a few seconds later by its partner. Tom Sawyer looked out the grimy glass portal. Only an American could be bored within ten minutes of arrival. His own country had not bored him so much. I guess it's called the 'Old World' for a reason…A yawn accidentally escaped him.
"Are you alright, Agent Sawyer?" Mina queried. Her blue eyes shifted quickly to him, her pale face followed.
He did not return the look, still staring at the massive building, counting the steps by twos. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired, is all." Tired of something…
The woman arched an eyebrow and directed it toward Dr Henry Jekyll as if asking what he knew of the young man's malady. He looked in Sawyer's direction, to see if his actions were being watched, and returned his gaze back to her with a subtle shrug as his diagnosis.
The little man had vacated the second carriage and was walking briskly towards them. The passengers rounded up their belongings as the lacquered door swung open, the cool rain dropped the temperature a bit as it rushed into the carriage. Sawyer was the first out, putting on his duster in the rain. Mrs Harker exited next, assisted by the man in the twill suit and opened her umbrella, accidentally hitting the doctor in the face as it swung behind her. She turned around and grimaced a bit in apology, but was waved off by him.
Nemo and Skinner met them as they all ascended the steps, sixteen on each level as was noted by Sawyer. The museum was one the largest building in London, apart from the Exchange and Buckingham, of course. The gargoyles that kept watch bared their teeth, frightening off pigeons for the most part. The doors were just massive, protecting the treasures within like a vault. Inside the floors were of carefully polished marble, the veins in it sprawled across the floor up into the walls. What little sunlight there was shone through the high windows. Glass cases housed curious artifacts, a wide brimmed hat and whip here. A section of wood with a golden coin hammered into it and the head of a spear of some kind, ruddy with blood sat across the floor in another case. The place never ceased to amaze, even the squat benefactor looked humbly at the collection.
"You mind telling us who you are now?" The thief blurted out suddenly, causing a cavernous echo. Jekyll, correcting the time on his watch, jumped and snapped it shut. Nemo stood near a display of swords, and silently sized up the man.
He removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped his brow. "Oh, yes, I'm sorry. My name is John H. Watson, Doctor of Medicine. I am the Head of the", he cleared his throat authoritatively here, "organization known as the 'League of Extraordinary Gentlemen' and curator of this wing."
"So how was Moriarty able to infiltrate and lure us all here?" the Indian captain asked, narrowing his eyes slightly. He had already taken the bait once with the promise of amnesty and would not fall in again so easily.
Watson shook his head. "I was away in Afghanistan on business, when Professor Moriarty was able to come up with a new identity, M as you knew him. He managed to forge documents attesting to this and bribed those involved in the forgery to the same when questioned."
"Is that all it takes to get into this place?" Sawyer huffed, staring down the curator. Watson chose to ignore the comment and motioned for the rest to follow him. They did cautiously, wondering if his credentials were as solid as the man who first brought them together. The stairwell down into the secret library lay before them, like the cave to Hell.
"Abandon all hope, Henry," came the guttural voice from inside. He had to control himself from flicking the pocket watch open and dug his hands into his pockets instead.
Watson produced a ring of keys of all shapes. A rather sturdy-looking one slid into the keyhole and turned the bolt with a low rumble and the door creaked open. The shadowy bookcases towered over them like sentries of the most holy caliber. The paintings of members shone in the lamplight. Watson went around turning up the lights as the members seated themselves around the large reading table. Mina and Nemo sat next to each other under a portrait of a knight on the left. Watson handed each of the members a leather-bound ledger as he began.
"Even though I do know of Moriarty's death, I should like to know what became of the base."
"It was destroyed," said Mina, pushing the ledger away. "Anything else?"
"What's all this, Watson?" Skinner yawned flipping through the ledger boredly.
"That is your new mission, sir."
"New mission? What kind of wild goose chase will this be? Who are going to be working for now?" Sawyer snapped, slamming the file shut. Jekyll put up a finger to politely warn him and quickly looked away when he saw the lad's arms cross. His temper had been ignited and showed his American defiance by putting his wet boots on the table and leaned back in the chair.
"I understand your reticence, Agent Sawyer. The loss of Mr Quartermain is tragic, but the world does not stop turning for one man, try as you may. Believe me." There was a shared wince among the group at the mention of Quartermain, but they held their peace.
"Now, if you will please look over this." A photograph was the first page. The rubble of a house in the countryside, it seemed. There was one figure, a woman, face unseen, who was presumably weeping into her skirts. "This was taken in France, a small hamlet outside of Lyon. Locals there believed the house was 'taken' by some supernatural force. Rumors of evil magic and nonsense brought about the destruction of the house. Burned to the ground in the middle of the night." He turned the page quickly and the others followed his example.
It was another photograph. "This is Richard Gevaudan." The image seemed to be snarling, like the man objected to having his likeness taken. He was wearing a dark suit and bowler, carrying a stick. "His family was driven out of that house the night it was burned when he was a child someone decades ago. He has taken up new residence in Paris. He is the one you are after, lady and gentlemen."
Skinner laughed a little. "I'd be a bit cranky, too if someone torched my flat. What's he done in gay ol' Paris?"
"Perhaps the following pictures will explain," Watson gravely uttered. He did not look down at the dossier. Mina gasped and attention turned toward her. She was returning to the last page, not wanting to look. The men at the table knew she was nigh unflappable, so what ever it was must have been truly horrific.
"I'll take your word for it," Skinner said knitting whited eyebrows.
"What you saw, Mrs Harker, is -was- what was found left of one family. Papers found in the home declare them as the Valois. The house was also destroyed quite beyond repair as well, some sort of airborne toxin prevented further inspection. There are pictures of the outcome of that if you have the stomach for it." Not one of them did since none of them had moved. "You will rendezvous with another member of the League, a Mr Henry Clerval. He should have more information for you."
"When do we leave?" the doctor asked, sorrow tingeing his words. He hadn't seen London in some time and was feeling a bit put off about being shipped back to Paris so quickly.
"As soon as possible," declared Watson. Jekyll mouth tightened into a forced smile and glared at the dossier. That's what I was afraid of, he sighed to himself. Edward was too busy laughing to come up with some grotesque remark.
"I will need to have you things brought back to you rooms, it seems," Nemo declared at length. The re-instated League stood wary of the new mission.
"Please, you must see that he is stopped," the rotund curator implored. "There is no telling how far this will go." They looked among themselves and left, climbing the flight back to the main floor.
"Well, he seems like a barrel of laughs. Perhaps just a barrel," Skinner quipped. No one laughed. Sawyer rolled his eyes.
The large doors opened once again. It had stopped raining for the moment. The buildings facing them were smeared in wet ash from smoke brought down by the rain. It looked like they were oozing bile. This was home of industry now. The old ways were beginning to break under the mechanized weight of the new. Nemo's auto-mobile was not the only one of its kind anymore. "It's probably just some silly fashion," Sawyer drawled, crawling into the carriage. He didn't see Nemo's narrowing eyes as he strolled toward the other. Mina and Jekyll exchanged exasperated glances as he allowed her to board. She sat opposite the volatile youth, and turned toward the window. It was obvious she did not want to deal with his attitude at the moment. The doctor was glued to the window, trying to take in what scenery there was. Just a few more days in Paris, then I came come back. It's not so bad as all that.
"Isn't it?" Hyde whispered in the reflection. Jekyll sighed and turned, his limited sight-seeing ruined by his alter-ego. Sawyer, whom he sat next to, was picking at his fingernails with his Secret Service badge moodily. He wrinkled his nose disapprovingly and saw out of the corner of his eye, Mrs Harker was wearing the same expression. Jekyll thought he saw the woman's eye began to burn that terrifying red they all feared. He cleared his throat audibly to distract her from ripping the boy's heart out. She blinked and her eyes had chilled blue again, rage swallowed down. I couldn't say I blame her. She must be famished. The boy never looked up.
The hacks made it back to the wharf within a quarter of an hour, held up slightly by the bustle of city streets. The drivers were tipped and sent on their way. Nemo ordered the bags and trunks returned to the respective rooms. A couple of crew members muttered something in Hindu as they grabbed the cases.
"We'll serve dinner presently," said the captain. "I believe lobster thermadore tonight. I'll send for you all at the proper time."
Nina held her head up. "I don't think I shall join you for supper, Captain. My apologies." The others knew this common excuse from their female compatriot. She was "dining out", as Skinner put it crudely. Captain Nemo bowed in understanding wordlessly and retired as did the rest.
She was left standing at the pier as she watched them board the Nautilus. She admired her host for such an achievement. How could one man have come up with this; so luxurious, so meticulous? Mina had never seen the plans for it, but they must have been magnificent.
It was almost four o'clock, post meridian. The sun had another three hours in the sky before she would be able to feed unobserved. She wondered if seeing the estate would be too much for her today. Mina put a hand to her neck and winced a little at the memory. No, perhaps not today. There will a time for that later.
The thought stayed with her as she made her way toward the center of the city, the park. It was quite a hike, but Mrs Harker enjoyed not staring at the sloping inner wall of the nearly empty ship. She never imagined how much she would miss the dull roar of London. A small dog started to follow her along the way, yapping alongside. Its coat was yellow, like old lace that was white once upon a time but now faded. Mina smiled briefly and kept walking.
"Watch out, Lady!" A shrill voice called out. She turned just in time to see a rag ball come flying inches from her nose. A little boy with sandy hair and a cap came running up to claim it. "Sorry, Missus."
"Be more careful next time," she warned. She thought about doing the boy a grievous harm, but she wasn't that bad inside, she didn't think. The boy scampered off to the other side of the street to resume the game with his friend.
It was dark by the time she reached the park. She was slightly out of breath and took a well-needed respite on a bench over looking a gardened area. The colors were muted in the dying light, but she was happy to see something not flowing in a wave. She leaned to one side and picked one, twirling it in a gloved hand. A few of the lamplighters were still at work, making their way ten meters at a time. There was a thump as someone plunked down besides her.
"'Allo, Miss. 'Ow does this evening find you?" She could smell the bourbon on his breath before her eyes fell on him. His eyes were bloodshot and the corpuscles on his nose had almost all burst. He seemed about forty, but the widow was never good at guessing ages.
"Quite well, sir. And yourself?" He put an arm around her casually. She was just another fellow at the pub.
"Better now."
She smiled delicately at him. "I know I am," she hissed as her canines lengthened. The man's reaction time had been slowed significantly, which was a great boon for her and dove for his throat. The vampire was gulping down the spray of blood as it filled her mouth, like water in a long-sought oasis. His arms stopped flailing after a moment or two, allowing her to enjoy her meal. She drank her fill soon and left the body on the bench. Mina pulled out her small hand mirror, calming down after her frenzy. A spot of blood sat taunting her just on the crease of her nose. She dabbed at it with her gloves. The now satiated woman arranged her skirt properly and began the long flight back to the ship.
Aboard the ship, the male faction of the League were coping with their new assignment. Scotch had been brought out by an attendant and set in front of the doctor and the young American. An overturned glass righted itself and the decanter poured itself a drink. "Can I interest you gents in a little after dinner nip?" Jekyll looked up where Skinner would have been and after a moment's deliberation to himself, nodded. "How about you, boy? You want a drink? Help take the edge off."
Sawyer remained despondent, staring at the red leather cover of the file. "No, I'm alright thanks." He forced a smile. "That lobster filled me up pretty good. I'm just a little worn out from today."
"It's been a trying day for all of us." The three looked up from the table to the doorway where Mina stood. The color had come back to her face and she seemed more calm.
"Catch a bite, did ya?" Skinner asked, arching his brow. It made the agent laugh a bit to himself.
"I did, but I always have room for desert, Mr Skinner." She narrowed her eyes but the lazy smile on her face told she meant nothing by it.
Nemo strolled into the doorway quietly. " Your rooms have been prepared to your liking." As an afterthought he added , "Is that alright with everyone?" He was only expecting an answer from one person in particular. "We'll be crossing the channel in about three-quarters of an hour. Tomorrow we begin our hunt." The rest nodded, seeing they didn't really have much of a say in the matter and the Indian left.
"I should like to get some sleep before arriving. France always drains me," the woman said ironically. "I'll say good evening to you, gentlemen."
Sawyer surprisingly, beat Jekyll to his feet this time and bowed deeply. "Good night, Mrs Harker." The doctor looked at the boy's brazen display and blushed. He simply gave an embarrassed smile and poured himself another drink as Mina went off to her apartment.
"Perhaps young Sawyer here has already had a few glasses with dinner, I imagine," Skinner laughed.
The American spy fell back down into his chair with a sigh, "Not nearly enough." He reached for the remaining glass and poured himself what Jekyll had left of the scotch. "Not nearly enough."
"Tom, would you mind if I took a look at that file? I'd rather like to take a crack at it." the doctor did not usually call people by their first names, but it was probably through the effect of the alcohol. As they knew, anything he ingested went to work quickly.
"Sure thing, Doc." He balanced his drink on the cover as he handed it to the older gentleman and removed it when he had a firm grip on it.
"Think you can handle the photos, Henry?" Skinnerasked cooly,"Or should I ring for some more scotch?"
He had already opened the ledger and perused the pages. The burned remains of the house in Lyon. A remaining pillar had evidence of soot and scorch marks, indeed burned to the ground.
"Isn't it lovely, Henry. Such devastation." The doctor almost answered the horrible response, but pressed on. The photograph of Richard Gevaudan stared back at him. What clues can this picture reveal, he wondered. The man, aside from his sour expression, seemed to be in good health. No distinguishing marks on his face or hands. He was not leaning on the stick as a crutch, so possibly no discernable limp.
"Dog," he blurted out randomly, catching his comrades off-guard.
"Pardon?" The agent asked, not quite sure what he heard. He got up from his seat and stood over the doctor's hunched shoulders.
"A dog. Dog's head. On his walking stick. Just there." Jekyll pointed to the flash of silver underneath the man's palm.
"I can't see anything," Sawyer said, gulping down the rest of his scotch. Jekyll turned around and grabbed the empty glass from his hand.
"Perhaps you're in need of an eye examination," he said, putting the glass on top of the picture. The bottom of the empty glass magnified the picture to where a dog's bared teeth were sticking out between the man's fingers. He looked up at the boy's reaction, quite wide-eyed and frowning approvingly.
"Okay, so…what does that mean?"
Jekyll shrugged. "No idea." He paused for a moment. His finger was slowly slipping under the photograph to reveal the next page. Edward was laughing expectantly waiting to see what carnage the Valois family had experienced. Henry begrudgingly allowed, half excited to see himself. "Oh, dear God."
It was horrific. The throats had been ripped out. Clothing torn savagely. Even with the limited coloring of the modern camera, one could still deduce what the large black puddle on the carpet was. And that wasn't the worst of it.
Sawyer's face blanched. "Their faces…" he trailed off.
Skinner piped up. "What about 'em?"
"They're…gone."
Even the evil killer taking up residence inside the mild doctor was impressed."When we get to Paris, I shall have to up the wager," it growled.
The invisible man gave a low whistle. "And what of the investigators?"
"What?" Agent Sawyer paled considerably.
"Well, Watson said they found them dead a'cause of some toxin or something? C'mon then, turn the page."
Jekyll sucked in a breath and hesitantly turned the page. The investigators were indeed very dead, the pictures taken about two days after, he guessed. The eyes slightly bulged from their heads and dried blood trickled from the corners of the mouths.
"Well, that is odd, isn't it?" Skinner said nonchalantly. "Looks like they've been strangulated."
"By something in the air? A excess of carbon monoxide can cause that," the doctor offered, very much puzzled. "But it doesn't cause the skin to blister like this." They stood regarding it in a horrible fascination when the loud whistle came, signaling the departure. The Nautilus rumbled in compliance and began to pull out of the London port.
"Well, I think I'm gonna turn in now. Need some shut eye before we face anything like that," Sawyer coughed.
"Yes, I think it's best we all do," the doctor said getting up from his seat. He braced himself, feeling a bit sick. "I suppose I'll see you all tomorrow then. Gentlemen." With that he made his way out to the passageway.
Skinner turned a literally blank expression to the American. "Well, this looks like it'll be fun, doesn't it?"