Chapter 5
"So." Napoleon called as he appeared among his men, holding a small dagger that he pointed at Larry, "The little American man, who could not be a tinier short of a mouse, runs into the claws of the giant cat, rawr."
"Wow you're really hung up on the height thing huh?" Larry asked.
"It's not about height." Napoleon denied.
"Yes it is." Larry pressed, "You're saying I'm a little mouse, you're a giant cat."
"I'm the giant, rawr."
"I'm just saying, your Napoleon, there's a complex named after you. You're famous for being little."
But the French General did not looked amused, "Oh, you naïve American man-boy."
"Look it's not like the two of us are going to be jamming anytime soon, so. . . "
"Let me tell you, it's not about height or something, it's a plan! It's a brilliant plan." He smiled gleefully.
"Oh so it was a plan."
"Snazzy maneuver emperor." Amelia commented begrudgingly.
Napoleon turned his smile to her and approached the pilot, "Merci mademoiselle. Now if your boyfriend would kindly come with me."
"Oh I'm not her boyfriend." Larry intervened getting their attention, "Not her boyfriend."
"Just friends." Napoleon commented as he turned to Amelia and she stuttered.
"No-uh-acquaintances – friends."
Napoleon watched her for a moment more before he slid across the polished floor back to Larry and whispered in his ear.
"Wereyoulikefriendsincollegeandnowbothafraidtoruinyourrelationshipbytellingtheotherpersonyou'dliketobemorethenfriends,thatyoulike-likeeachother?"
Larry froze before he turned to Napoleon, "Uh, one more time, I didn't catch –"
"Were you like friends in college and now both afraid to ruin your relationship by telling the other person you'd like to be more then friends, that you like-like each other?"
"Oh." Larry grinned and turned to the general, "No. no."
"I just love the nitty gritty of relationships. All us French do." Napoleon grinned like a child on Christmas.
Amelia smiled, "Ah, yes. Amor."
"Yes – now." His grin turned serious in the blink of an eye, "This way or you die."
"Yes." Larry agreed with a careful nod.
"Amne vous." Napoleon instructed his men, "AMNE VOUS!"
"Wait! I'm coming with you!" Amelia protested.
"No! Our fight is not with you!" the general shouted back as his men flanked Larry and led him off.
Amelia huffed angrily. She hated missing out on the action. Looking around she decided to familiarize herself with the museum, there had to be something in here she could use to go after Mr. Daley and free him. And his companion Anna was also around somewhere. Amelia looked back down the hall hoping to still see Mr. Daley but he and the French were gone. Drat! She wanted to see if Napoleon had taken all his men. If he had then that meant Anna was now safe with no one after her. All Amelia had to do was find her.
Might as well handle two birds with one stone, she decided. She could inspect the exhibits and search for the young lady at the same time. Pivoting on her heel she turned and headed off, fierce with determination.
.
.
Moving in the opposite direction of where they'd seen the French last, Anna and Billy popped into a staircase and headed to the only other floor the building had, the ground floor. Pushing the door open Anna stepped into what looked like a café. Billy closed the door behind them and pulled a chair in front of it just so no one could sneak up on them. Anna led the way forward weaving through tables until she found the hall that led to more exhibitions.
"I hope Larry is okay." Anna muttered peeking into small adjoining rooms and getting frustrated when each one was empty - except for more moving pictures.
"He'll be fine." Billy assured her, as he kept looking over his shoulder while she searched. His hand kept twitching toward his Thunderer like he was expecting to have to draw at any moment.
It wasn't a bad instinct to have. Especially in their predicament.
"That Pharaoh guy wasn't too intimidating." Billy laughed, remembering the debate on whether or not he was wearing a dress. "How did you get mixed up with him anyway?"
"Aside from keeping the tablet he's desperate for away from him?" She asked for clarification and Billy nodded, "He's not too thrilled that Larry and I are friends with his younger brother."
Billy's brows pulled together in slight confusion, "Sibling rivalry?" He guessed.
"Well when you're next in line for the throne and your parents give it to your kid brother, it's a bit understandable." She explained in simple terms what she'd read on the plane to D.C. "But you lose sympathy for the guy when reading how he killed that brother and took the throne."
Billy's expression turned sour and he turned to face forward, "People willin' to kill for power are a mighty displeasure to meet."
He kept staring ahead and Anna got the impression Billy had dug up a bad memory. However, she had a good idea who came to mind when discussing corrupt people who killed for wealth and control of others. "Like Murphy, Dolan and Riley right?"
His blue eyes hardened, that much was clear even though he wasn't looking at her. He gave one stiff nod.
Murphy was the mob boss in control of a business in Lincoln County New Mexico years before Billy ever showed up there. His partners Dolan and Riley had equal stakes in the business so when competition moved into town none of them were happy about it. They hired killers and gangs who did horrible things on their orders. And the law had stock in Murphy's business so they did nothing about it. Billy had shown up in Lincoln and got a job with the competitor Tunstall - without realizing the job meant he'd chosen a side. But for Billy the job was something stable, and given his life had been nothing but unstable for years since the death of his mother, the roof over his head, good pay and good friends was the best he'd ever had it.
Until Murphy ordered the Sheriff to get a posse and put an end to his competition once and for all.
"If it makes you feel any better, anyone who reads about the Lincoln County War knows Murphy was a terrible man. History doesn't remember him fondly."
"That's only bits and pieces." He said still sour, "No book has ever been able to put to print everything that man did, or ordered done." He turned to her, "That's why I'm still outlawed. No one wants to believe I fought on the good side of the war."
She stared at him as their slow footsteps paused. The feeling that she was about to get a piece of history that no one knew about from the Billy the Kid himself felt surreal. And was enough to get her mind off Larry momentarily.
"Most books do mainly focus on Murphy ordering Sheriff Brady to kill your friend John." She agreed softly not wanting to risk breaking Billy from his trip down memory lane.
He scoffed, "There were killings in Lincoln long before that. Anyone who helped supply John, or bought from him ended up on Murphy's hit list. And if he couldn't intimidate them back to his business he'd have 'em killed." Billy looked away from her, his blue eyes drifting to a painting on the wall of a large field with grassy hills. "Bowdre and I were ridin' back one day from George Coe's ranch when we heard shooting. It was over a few hills toward a farm we knew of. Even at full gallop we didn't get there until it was all over. Murphy's hired guns were riding away in the other direction laughing like they'd just had a grand old time. Everyone else was lyin' dead in the grass. The farmer, his wife, their stableboy. . . and their four children. It wasn't just single shots to the head either, some had half a dozen holes in 'em. The wife's skirt was hiked up. The farmer had a fresh black eye and split lip. One of their daughters, she went quick thankfully. Shot in the heart, another one in her head. I remember the blood in her blonde hair, she looked about five. Youngest one killed by a gun I ever saw."
If Anna had just told a story like that her voice would be laced with sadness. But Billy, he'd grown visibly angry. His tone was harsh, his jaw was tense and his teeth were clenched. One hand was on his gun and the other was a white knuckled fist at his side. His eyes were cold blue and he looked murderous. Anna knew that Billy the Kid was known to have a sharp temper. That if you wronged him once, in any way, that was all he needed to feel justified in shooting you dead. That was part of why he was still so controversial. Some believed Billy's killings were provoked while others thought he was simply a psychopath. But looking at him now Anna could see a bit more truth than anyone else.
Injustice is what made Billy enraged.
And if she had to guess, maybe there was a little piece of him deep, deep down that felt powerless to change it. To change the world into something fair and equal. But that didn't stop him from trying. That didn't stop him from pulling out his gun and killing someone he thought was wicked.
And honestly, the idea of Billy killing 21 men who had murdered children or raped women, or both, didn't bother her one bit.
"You said this was before the war?" She asked, he nodded again still looking toward the painting of the hills. "How many people had you killed up til then?"
He paused maybe thinking back that far, "Two. And it was self defense. I never shot first at a man until the day Sheriff Brady died."
He shook his head looking like he was trying to clear it as he turned to her, "There was no justice out there then. We had to make our own."
He stared at her and she stared back. Her expression was blank, processing everything he'd told her. His expression held something in it, something patient but also bracing. Waiting for what her reaction would be. And it was obvious he was expecting to be seen negatively.
Instead, "You're a good person Billy."
Shock overtook his face, like no one ever said that to him. He blinked a few times.
"You look surprised." She pointed out as they started walking down the hall again.
"I don't recall anyone ever coming out and sayin' that to me before." Then he smiled and looked back to her, "Enough about me. Back to you."
"Anything about me will bore you." She said with certainty. In comparison her life was nothing by means of adventure and excitement. She doubted Billy would find her months of studying for the SAT anything special.
"Maybe not. All I know about you so far is you and your friend broke into a museum and are keeping that tablet from fancy pants."
She laughed out loud before slapping her hand over her mouth. There were plenty of Russian and French soldiers and a group of mobsters out looking for her, she didn't need to draw their attention. But at the same time the laugh had been therapeutic, a stress reliever and she didn't realize how much she needed it until now.
The reached the end of the hall where a large room made of white stone lay. Marble cinderblocks made up the walls while a polished black tiled floor shimmered under a long glass roof that must have been illuminated on the other side by electrical lighting. Along the walls were thick stone stands with busts resting on them. Between each bust was a white square planter with a tree giving the black and white room some color. In the center were more stands with full bodied statues made in the same black stone as the floor roughly the size of children. More door less arches led to more display rooms, each arch decked out to look like a roman palace.
"I. . . want to work in a museum." She admitted with a blush when the laugh calmed down. It suddenly felt like a spotlight on her and she stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets, nervously playing with some lint in the bottom as she tried to fight off her anxiety.
"Why's that?"
She shrugged, "I like learning about the past. The way things changed, the different ways people lived."
He gave a scoff-like chuckle and shook his head, but was polite enough to try and hide it behind his hand as he faked scratching his cheek.
She turned to him and he knew he'd been caught.
"Sorry." He apologized, "Just. . . why live in the past? It seems a terrible way to spend your future."
"Well. . . " she began to reply as he faced forward again and mulled about the room, "It is more interesting when the people come to life at night and can tell you their stories for themselves."
She quirked an eyebrow at him and gave him a look that clearly conveyed, 'like you just did'.
He smiled at her and nodded, "Fair enough."
She turned away to hide her smile as they made it to the other side of the long room and entered a space with more paintings on the walls. In the center were two couches pushed back to back so people could sit and admire the exhibits. The pieces of furniture were box-like, like a long navy rectangle.
"So is there anything, or anyone, in particular you've enjoyed studying?" He asked from the left side of the room. Anna was on the right side and when she looked over to him she saw he'd taken out his pistol and had started spinning it as he asked her questions.
She had to think for a moment. There were easy answers, but none that Billy would know of. 9/11 came to mind, seeing as she'd lived through that, though she'd been very young. WWII was another, particularly the Holocaust. But again that was long after Billy's time. There was one thing though that was close enough that there wouldn't be the hurdle of explaining too many technological advancements to him.
"Titanic is one of my favorites." She said. It always felt odd calling a tragedy her 'favorite' but she didn't linger on that.
Billy stopped his gun mid-spin and looked over to her. "What's that?"
She smirked, recalling details about the Titanic - and any other event she had a fondness for - just filled her with joy. Hence why she wanted to dedicate her life to it.
"It was an ocean liner that sailed in 1912. The biggest, most luxurious vessel ever made by mankind." Just thinking about the design on the ship's interior, all the photos she'd seen of the restaurants, the ornate carved woodwork, the designs in even the ceiling. She'd always hoped they'd build another, a hotel version on land so it couldn't sink. Something so exact to the original she could walk around it for hours imaging she was on the ship. Sadly, no one had thought to do that yet.
"So why is it famous?" Billy asked stepping closer to the couches, "Just because it was expensive?"
Anna shook her head at him, walking forward to the couch too. "It was marketed as 'unsinkable', that it was so large it had its own supreme power, that God himself couldn't bring it down. . . but on its maiden voyage it sank. And over a thousand people died."
Billy stared at her and for a moment she wondered if over a thousand people drowning and freezing to death was too macabre of a subject. But then he grinned.
"What?" She asked puzzled.
"You know your eyes light up when you talk like that." He noted. Immediately she looked away, a small smile on her face as she shook her head. "You do like history."
She glanced back to him, her head still tilted away. He was still smiling, like his face never relaxed, instead it defaulted to a happy grin.
Then they heard footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Both their heads snapped to the sound before they rushed to the side of the couch not facing the doorway and crouched down. Anna was on Billy's right but he quickly pulled her over to his left as his right hand perched the barrel of his gun on the arm of the couch. His left arm hugged her waist and kept her secure and down enough that she remained hidden. Anna found she didn't mind, after running from the French earlier, it was nice to have someone helping watch her back. It made the heavy burden of trying to stay alive lighter with a second person to help carry the weight. As the footsteps grew closer she could hear a voice speaking aloud to herself.
"Oh for the love of mother dixie, could they have designed a more convoluted layout for -"
"Amelia!" Anna called as the redhead passed the doorway. Immediately the pilot turned and grinned ear to ear as the pair removed themselves from their hiding place. Anna rushed forward bursting with questions.
"Where's Larry? What happened?"
The pilot stomped her foot and rested her hands on her hips, "The snazzy little emperor took him."
"Napoleon?"
Amelia nodded once.
"And the tablet?"
She nodded again.
Billy stepped up behind her, "So what's the plan now?"
"We're outnumbered." Amelia stated, "I was hoping to recruit some backup here but so far have come up empty."
"And we're outgunned." Billy tacked on and Anna remembered the guns Capone's men carried.
She let out a long breath and ran her hand through her hair as she walked past Amelia and headed back the way they came. The other two followed her but it was Amelia that kept pace with her and walked at her side. Billy hung back again.
"You look like you're carrying a great deal." She pointed out, her curls bouncing as they walked, "Care to share?"
Anna sighed again, "Back at the Smithsonian Castle is the 'Gate of Kahmunrah.' It's supposedly a gate to the Underworld, according to legend. -"
"Not all legends are truthful fact." Billy piped up before Amelia turned and shushed him. But Anna grinned just the tiniest bit. Yes, she knew the legend of Billy the Kid was riddled with false information and exaggerations both good and bad. But she doubted this was myth.
"Kahmunrah bragged to me and Larry that he would use the tablet to unlock the gate and summon his army of the dead. If he does that we're in even bigger trouble. We'll be more outnumbered than we already are."
Billy and Amelia exchanged a worried look.
They made it back to the cafe and Anna pulled out a chair and sat down. Resting her elbows on her knees she put her head in her hands. After a moment needed to collect herself and her thoughts she looked up. Billy was by the stairs peeking out a window in the doors, gun in hand ready to lay down cover fire. Amelia was closer, still standing, but she looked as worried as Anna felt.
"Amelia?" She asked getting the woman's attention. "What if Kahmunrah kills Larry?"
A flash of something that looked like heartache flashed through her normally bright eyes.
"Kahmunrah killed his own brother for power. He won't have any reservations about -"
"No." Amelia said shaking off the negativity and returning to her usual self, "If they wanted him dead, Napoleon would have killed him and taken the tablet. But they brought him along alive. There has to be a reason."
"He probably wants someone to gloat in front of." Billy spoke up now leaning on the doorframe casually and looking to the pair of ladies.
"Murphy and his boys were like that. Rubbin' it in your face before they'd off ya." He grinned, "The advantage is it gives a fella extra time to get away."
Amelia looked back to her, "Either way, the solution won't be found sitting here. We'd better charge on."
Anna appreciated the endless positivity that ran through Amelia and Billy. She was used to the majority of people around her complaining about their anxiety, stress, mental health - herself included. None of those things were easy to grapple with, it just seemed like everyone suffered from the same these days. When had folks lost this bright eyed sense of adventure Amelia and Billy had? They were born decades apart so it couldn't be a generational thing. Maybe it was just a manner of perspective, like Billy had been saying before, looking forward to the future and all that. Not dwelling on the past.
Anna nodded and let Amelia pull her from her chair.
Billy held the door for them like a gentleman, getting a thankful and approving nod from Amelia before they headed back upstairs.
