Strategy
"I'll do it," Lauren said flatly.
Her words echoed in the dim laboratory. The three musketeers looked amazedly at the dirty, disheveled slip of a girl who had magically appeared in the room. "Do what?" d'Artagnan asked, his words sounding strangely loud in everyone's ears.
"No, you won't," said Siroc, his tone final. He looked down at the girl as she stepped forward. She was too young to be risked in a mission; she didn't know how to fight; and she was wrong in the head! It was out of the question to send Lauren into danger.
"Yes," she shot back quickly, "I will. Even if you don't help, I will go to the man and expose him myself—although if you decide to help me, it will be a lot easier." She stared the inventor right in the eye, not backing down.
"You cannot—I forbid it," Siroc announced, but his resolve was already weakening under that blue stare.
"Yes, I can." She surveyed the expressions of the others. Siroc shook his head in firm disbelief while d'Artagnan gaped at her, probably still wondering how she had appeared without his musketeer reflexes noticing. Jacqueline had a hint of—is it really that?—approval in her eyes. Lauren continued her argument with a story. "Awhile back I had to help my friend Helen escape from an angry stalker. He sent her threatening messages when she refused to go out with him, and we—a group of her friends—finally had to report him and denounce him before the police." She paused to take a deep breath and meet everyone's gaze. "I won't let someone threaten you if I can help it. This mission is too dangerous for Jacqueline to risk—if he's a Cardinal's man, he surely knows her female face—but I can and will do this."
"Why?" asked d'Artagnan, curiosity apparent in his tone. Why would this crazy girl risk her life for them?
"Because maybe I can redeem myself before the Captain and get Gil his post back," Lauren answered honestly. "And it's the very least I can do for you—for what all of you have done for me."
"Well, we have to come up with a plan before you do anything," Siroc said, a little too quickly, turning to his worktable. He needed time to figure out an alternative plan to keep the girl from any involvement.
Lauren cleared her throat loudly. "I already have one."
"You do?" d'Artagnan asked eagerly, with a hint of surprise at her mission planning skills. He was ready to find this spy and take care of him, the sooner the better, and if Jacqueline was not involved, all's the better.
The girl grinned and began to explain her strategy. "Yes, I followed the spy this evening. He met up with two of those Cardinal men and went to this apartment up some stairs—I'm pretty sure I can find it again. The two reds were up there for about half an hour and then left. I waited for him, but he seems to be staying there for the night. So the idea is that I can go up there to distract him, hopefully weasel some secrets out for you to hear, and then you can charge in and arrest him—easy as pie." She, d'Artagnan, and Jacqueline then looked at Siroc, the last one to hold out. Lauren reached out to take his hand in her two, and the inventor looked down at the clasped palms in wonder. "It's the best plan. Give it a chance," she whispered, giving his hand a tight squeeze.
Siroc surprised everyone when he brought the girls hands up and kissed each gently. He told her, "You can't catch a spy looking like that, Tisoeur." Lauren laughed and the knot in her stomach disappeared. With friends like these, she was bound to succeed.
Jacqueline and d'Artagnan left the room for a few minutes, bringing a large wooden trunk back with them. The female musketeer pulled a gold chain out from under her shirt and over her head; on it were strung a golden cross and a dark metal key. She unlocked the trunk to reveal a rainbow of dresses folded neatly inside. D'Artagnan's eyebrows shot up. "I thought my 'cousin' didn't want a dress," he teased her.
She gave him one of her classic 'Oh, d'Artagnan' looks before kneeling next to the younger girl to rifle through the garments. "What exactly are you looking for?"
Lauren frowned at the dresses, but continued to dig her way down the stack. "I was going to play the angle of being another spy for Cardinal Mazarin—so secret that I report only to him. I bet he assumes that a young woman in the garrison would be good at discovering delicate secrets."
Jacqueline thought a moment. "Then you need something that could pass as respectable, since the Cardinal would be paying your bills, but also something that looks maybe a little gaudy and cheap. You're obviously not from the highest of society—no offense," she added quickly.
"None taken," the girl answered automatically as she grabbed a dress and pulled it from the bottom of the trunk. "This should do it."
The gown was blue, but a few shades lighter than the dirty one Lauren wore. Under those hideous puffy shoulders, the low cut bodice was fitted and had a pearly white flowered design that covered it. Long white sleeves covered the entire arm and flared at the cuff for a medieval accent. A thin blue sash fastened around the waist with a small glittering diamond clasp to fasten it. Below the waist, the skirt bloomed out satiny blue with a scattering of the flower motif. "It looks like a prom dress," Lauren sighed.
The men looked amused, but the female musketeer made a face when she saw the gown. "That was the first I bought, right from a shop window. I didn't come from the highest of society either, so it'll do."
"No, wait," Lauren replied. Tossing the skirt across the worktable, she grabbed a small knife and cut into the fabric of one shoulder, ripping off the puffiness and the long sleeves to make it a strapless gown. "Now that'll do."
Spying
Lauren led the three musketeers back to the apartment where she had last seen the Cardinal's spy. She stopped them just around the corner and pointed out the lit windows. "It looks like he's still there." The girl's escorts launched into a string of commentary on Mazarin, most of it details intended to convince the spy that she was on his side. Lauren absorbed as much as she could while in the back of her mind wondering how she missed the fact that the Cardinal was so evil—I always remembered Mazzie as sort of relatively nice guy. She then fleetingly recalled that the musketeers would be disbanded soon and gave a mental sigh. History is written by the victors.
Siroc finished the musketeers' last minute advice with a promise. "We will hang back to give you time to get to him, and then we'll come in closer for the confession and arrest. You have to be quick." He eyed the girl's composed face one last time before giving her one last chance to back out. "Are you sure about this?"
Lauren gave him a small smile as she tightened the large brown cloak around her bare, indecently exposed shoulders. "See you on the other side," she told them, with a last lingering glance to each before she turned. The girl refused to allow any sign of hesitation or fear to change their minds and strode purposely forward to her date with destiny.
The spy leaned back on the settee in his apartment, his feet propped up on the low table in front of him; to keep his hands occupied, he sharpened a dagger lazily. After a long day of musketeer duties, he had shed his grey and blue for a loose black shirt over dark breeches. Now he had to plan his next move—Mazarin was getting impatient. He glanced up sharply as the door silently swung inward and his manservant entered with a shallow bow of deference. "There's a woman at the door, sir," he said in a low voice.
"Just give her coin and send her away," he replied irritably. "I've no time for mindless interruptions tonight."
"She says the cardinal sends her." The servant met his master's eyes with a meaningful look.
The spy's interest was piqued. Was she a messenger? The cardinal always sent uniformed guardsmen with orders. She must be a gift. A cold smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he returned with, "Well, show her in, man, and quickly." The man in black stood with the dagger and stone, storing them in the velvet lined bottom of a set of drawers behind the couch where he had been lounging. He turned eagerly to await his guest
Lauren entered the room nervously, brushing past the manservant who held the door open. Things like this only happen in bad movies or bad novels. When she caught sight of the cold man waiting for her, she anxiously thought, What am I doing here? This was a big mistake! But the servant closed the doors behind her, and she had nowhere to escape.
"I know you," the man said harshly, his expression going from one of eager anticipation to that of deadly disappointment.
"We work for the same side," the girl spit out quickly, sounding shaky. She was frozen to the floor in front of the door.
He had not moved, but became still more intimidating. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Lauren took a quiet deep breath. For my friends. For Gil. "Oh, come on now! The Cardinal has had me playing those four troublesome musketeers from the start! And you almost blew my cover with that silly duel," she said flirtatiously, advancing on him far more bravely than she felt.
The spy's face darkened further. "That foolish boy—"
"Was my cover," she told him, letting the cloak drop to reveal her bare shoulders.
The Cardinal's man recognized this gesture as a ploy and responded in kind. "You seemed rather attached to him. I saw Duval dragging you out of his room just this afternoon—or was that just deep cover?"
She made herself smirk, getting into character. "I admit that getting caught and kicked out wasn't part of the plan, but it serves its purposes." She turned slightly to show the bare back under the laces—she had convinced Jacqueline to forget the corset and tie the dress on with nothing underneath, mostly so the girl would still be able to breathe. It was enough to distract the spy for a moment as she paused in her advance to look about the room casually. "But now that my course has been run, I can help you complete yours."
The spy crossed the now short distance between them and reached out to brush her upper arm with his fingers. "And how could you help me?" he asked in a low voice, looming over her.
Lauren swallowed hard but kept her words airy as she looked up hoping that her eyes did not betray her fear. "Mazarin doesn't tell me other spies plans just like he didn't tell you mine, but I know you have targets and I can help you get to them—they trust me and even try to protect me." She let an ironic grin cross her features as she said the last. "Just tell me what you need."
"I need…" he whispered, bringing his lips to her ear. The spy made a line of rough kisses down her neck quickly while his hand expertly went to the knotted laces.
Lauren, expecting something like this, pushed him away hard and tried to act like a streetwise tough instead of the scared girl that she was. "I'm not here for that. I'm here to help you bring down the musketeers."
The man jerked forward to backhand the girl across her face. Lauren had taken hits before, stray fists in fights with her younger brother and falls from Bud, but never a full blow from a strongly built man. She reeled backwards, landing on a side table which tipped under her weight and sent the girl and assorted objects sprawling across the floor.
"Rest assured that this will help bring down the musketeers," he said as he half-dragged the girl to the sofa. "In fact, it will make killing that slave Siroc all the more pleasurable.'
Siroc? was the last dazed thought before Lauren let out her first scream.
The three waiting musketeers slowly moved closer to the building, taking care to remain hidden so as to not blow Lauren's cover before it was time. Siroc surveyed the dimly lit windows with more anxiety than he had ever felt before a mission. This time it was not just his life in danger. His gaze, however, jumped to the closed door when piercing screams erupted from the other side. The soldiers moved into action.
D'Artagnan wasted no time in kicking down the first door, his rapier point going immediately to the stunned servant's throat as the others filed in behind him. Jacqueline went to inner door and, hearing the noise from within, threw it open without hesitation. She only had eyes for the spy and rushed forward to attack. The man was quicker, leaping over the back of the sofa and pulling the dagger drawer open. The female musketeer was forced to dive for cover as three knives were instantly imbedded in the cushions of the unlucky chair.
Siroc spared a glance to the floor in front of the couch where Lauren lay still before he charged the man himself. The spy pulled a rapier from somewhere, and a frantic duel began. D'Artagnan finally entered the main chamber after dealing with the manservant, heading for the duel too, but a hand on his arm restrained him. "It's his fight," Jacqueline told him, pulling herself up again. "Get her out of here." The legend's son did not argue this time, kneeling to pick Lauren up and carry her to safety.