I N F E R N O
- Dim Aldebaran -
Chapter Four
:i:
Monsieur's tastes had, indeed, changed; his apartment suite was now a marvel of crystal and mirrors, not at all the dark, crimson place of all those years ago. He had the vague feeling of being in America, trying too hard to be modern; it made him uncomfortable.
Monsieur occupied a smudge of darkness by the couch; in the light-filled room, it must have been a difficult feat to manage. He found it difficult to analyze the rest of the room's changes; his eyes were drawn to the shadow like a high-power magnet. He let them be: he had never had any particular fondness for interior design.
Monsieur gestured towards a throne of glass; the shadow followed his arm out. Programming for this effect, at first, was simple; but the more Artemis thought about how every mirrored surface, every opaque obstruction, every light source, every change in position had to be taken into account, the more his admiration grew. He should inquire into its acquisition.
But that was not what he was here for; Artemis slipped into the throne opposite Monsieur, who occupied a similar one of mirrors. Not one face reflected Monsieur's specifics; simply an outline to be colored in by Artemis' imagination.
Of course, his imagination had the most brilliant mind in Europe to use for this purpose. Monsieur's accent came from the more eastern domain, tinged by German—he pictured the bastard child of a Nazi officer and a French showgirl, struggling to survive in the German occupation, accepting her patron's advances until the end of the war, the child. Monsieur's shame for his looks could be explained with persecution as a child for his Aryan looks and suspect father. Not finding sympathy with the government and the better side of the law, he had sought and found more open minds with those who had flourished under Mussolini. Rising through the ranks with his ruthless methods, compliments of a cruel childhood, he had soon been named head of the Irish section to overthrow the Fowl dynasty, and bring Mafia to the Emerald Isle.
It was as best a theory he could come up with it; but he wouldn't bet a single euro on his presumptions. Monsieur remained an enigma, and Artemis didn't mind.
"And what," Monsieur asked in his simmering alto, "brings you to the Hall of Mirrors?" He made a grand gesture; the shadows followed his arms, not even revealing the color of suit he wore.
"Business," Artemis replied. "Alas, I could not resist for long."
Monsieur's tone implied he had raised a brow. "You swore off crime; Junior keeps his promises, no?"
It was a fair assumption on Monsieur's part, but Artemis was a little surprised at this leap of logic. Monsieur was one of the few men that neared his IQ for criminality, though not near his match in other aspects. He had forgotten this.
Artemis had truly enjoyed their time together. The more he thought about their parting of ways, the more he wished it had not been so; though he and Monsieur competed, certainly, as the Mafia had wanted them to, Monsieur had always told him in advance when the Mafia had required an assassination attempt on him, giving him ample time to prepare.
Besides, Artemis owed him his life: Britva had told higher-ups in Italy about Fowl.
Monsieur had kept them from all-out war.
It was for this reason that Artemis let Monsieur call him 'Junior'.
Artemis leaned forward and stared intently into where he thought Monsieur's eyes were. "You didn't warn me."
"I didn't know." Monsieur was intrigued; he could tell by the voice, the shift of the shoulders. Monsieur made another gesture; the woman from the elevator came over with, of all things, Cuban cigars. Artemis declined; Monsieur gave him a look and took one. The shadows enveloped the cigar; gray smoke spiraled upwards into a discreet vent. "You had better tell me, then."
"The plan was perfect, the assassin was not."
"And you think someone had a plan, but didn't want to get their nails broken?"
Artemis nodded; "The attack was five hours ago, if it helps."
"Five and a half."
Artemis laced his fingers and sighed. "Alas," he murmured.
"Offer me money."
"One ton, unmarked ingots."
"Too cumbersome. Offer me power."
"Fowl Corporation."
"I hate legitimacy. Butler, the pretty one."
"With pleasure."
Monsieur leaned forward. The woman at his side drew a gun from her jumpsuit; vaguely, he wondered how it could fit. "Offer me Girl in Solitude."
Artemis smiled; the haze at his side trembled with a memory. "Never. How much did he offer you, by the way?"
"Not enough," Monsieur replied. He made a gesture; the woman slipped into the black hole, the shadows swallowing her up. The gun, presumably, was pointed in a more comfortable direction.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"I suppose you want her name now, too?" Monsieur asked. He made another flippant gesture; Artemis followed those expressive hands, entranced. "Junior, you want too much. Be happy: you have your vow." He made a stabbing movement with his cigar. "I'm not a man for vows, but I know you won't be very happy if you break yours."
Artemis raised a brow with all the delicacy of handling fine china. "I have no intention of breaking my vow," he replied coolly. "Tell me who she is, and I will be sure to get the original back into her hands."
Monsieur gave a sigh; the shadow heaved. "Ah, for a mind like yours."
"Tell me."
"Offer me money."
"We've been through this."
Monsieur cocked his head. "For old times sake, Junior"
"I won't be coming back again, you know."
Another gesture; his arm the black of night. "For me."
"One million euros."
"Tree-killer. Offer me power."
"I rigged the last election."
"Too honest. Offer me—your undying love and gratitude."
"Given," Artemis replied, "with a full heart."
"I'd miss your birthdays." He twirled his cigar. "She calls herself Medea Atreus. Wore a burqa; no features could be made out—" he continued as Artemis began to interrupt "—even with that lovely video enhancement program you gave me, all those years ago." His end was sardonic, bitter, by the flourish of his hands and the edge to his voice.
Artemis got up to leave. "My undying gratitude." He walked to the door; the woman slipped from the darkness and stood before the door.
Artemis raised a brow; Monsieur shrugged. "Stella, dear, what is it?"
"We left something unfinished," she murmured.
Eyes like the mirrors around him met his; she's rather tall, he thought, rather convenient—
Artemis Fowl has been surprised three times in his life. It is mere coincidence that all three have been in the presence of Holly, presumably planned by fate so she could use these occasions for the vilest sorts of blackmail.
Monsieur was amused; the shadows around him rippled, implicating a long, silent roll of laughter across his bulk. Whether his eyes were closed, or whether he was completely aware to the following events, Artemis would never learn.
'Stella' was not a very good multitasker. She didn't get to practice it often; Monsieur felt that ornaments are best kept unstained by stress. This is quite fortunate, since though Stella was a damn good seductress, just like she was a damn good assassin, she could simply not carry out the two at the same time. It took her exactly two second longer to slip the gun from her jumpsuit; the haze saw the flash of black and found it to be suspicious.
Artemis' watch was a present from Foaly; it was a prototype design for him to test. Since then, it had become standard in LEP spy missions belowground. Holly didn't participate much in these, but she stayed on top of Foaly's delightful inventions.
Artemis kept his hands limp by his sides, not being quite sure what to do with them. Holly reached forward and tapped the screen twice.
All rained silver and diamonds; the sonic blast had shattered every mirror and glass surface, virtually the entire apartment. Artemis was tugged into the hallway; alarm bells were ringing, but the elevator still worked. They made a dash for it. The door closed behind them; the world was suddenly very, very quiet.
"You didn't have to do that," Artemis said.
Holly cuffed his shoulder, now visible, and sent the elevator on its way down. The buttons were at a very convenient height for her, after all. "She was trying to kill you, Mud Boy."
"I would have died happy."
Holly laughed; then stopped. "Wait, was that a joke?"
He nodded mutely. "An… attempted joke."
She laughed harder. The door opened before them; as he walked out of the suite, there appeared to be a slight haze besides him.
Juliet was outside, loaded with bags. "I thought you'd be here," she said, pointing to the shattered windows above. "Know anything about our assassin?"
The wail of sirens rose above the city. Artemis began a slow, nonchalant walk back to the parking garage. "She's an idealistic rich Canadian with a fixation on angst."
Juliet's bags bobbed up and down. An ambulance pulled in on the curb behind them. "Wait, she?"
Artemis waved his hand dismissively. "The employer is more dangerous than the employee," he replied. "Pass me your cell phone, won't you? I'm afraid mine's shattered."
Juliet complied, confused but quite used to that state of being.
Artemis punched in several buttons; thirty feet down the street, he slipped the bubblegum pink cellphone into a Victoria's Secret bag.
"What'd you do?" Juliet demanded.
"Our employee has a Yahoo account," Artemis replied.
"Oh," Juliet said; then did a double-take as they entered the garage. "Wait, is that a hickey?"
Artemis touched his bleeding lip. "Oh," he said. "That." He seemed lost in thought.
"Oh, so you've moved on from blackmail to seduction."
More sirens. "Hardly. She was trying to kill me."
"Oooh, black widow."
He turned to Juliet as they reached the car. "She chose an… unusual method to distract me. Holly activated the sonic bomb in my watch; the woman was in a lot of pain."
"Right." Juliet tossed her bags into the back.
Artemis opened her door. "Please, don't tell Father.'
Juliet slid into the driver's seat. "Okay," she said, "I won't."
Artemis touched his bleeding lip again. Really.
:i:
Short chapter, but that was the best place to stop.
Was any of that confusing? There's going to be explanations next chapter when things settle out a bit at Fowl Manor, so if anything's confusing, I'll hopefully cover it then. If not, give me a shout and I'll do something. A lot of things are Artemis!reasoning, which would have otherwise disrupted the flow of the story, and I'm trying to keep this going at a good pace. Next chapter is my time for those, since there's no action, just messing around on computers and the like.
CC, please! I have no beta for this, and I feel like I'm overburdening poor Lily with Descent and all my oneshots. CC's all I got. And, in case you haven't noticed, I can't catch typos at all. Thanks!
