Chapter Four

Athos didn't remember being cut from the wreckage by the fire crew.

He didn't remember the concerted effort of the ambulance crew to stabilise him at the side of the road.

Nor did he remember the wreckage of his beloved Alpha Romeo being hoisted onto the back of a low loader, or the subsequent blue-light journey to the hospital.

He was not aware of the hi-tech world he now inhabited. He had not met the nurses and doctors who gave him their individual attention. He was not aware of his friends, pacing the waiting room, waiting for permission to visit him.

Hours earlier Treville had been woken at 4.45 a.m by their call service, who had patched in a member of the fire crew, familiar to the Musketeers. The man identified himself and then quickly explained they were currently working to extract one of his men from the wreckage of his car, a black Alpha Romeo. There would CCTV footage, he had said, there were cameras at all angles on this stretch of the road.

"Where are they taking him?" Treville had asked, his blood turning to ice.

"Hospital Saint Louis*," he man had replied, hurriedly. "The medics are waiting for us to finish."

"How long?"

"Just taking the roof off now. I've got to go, Captain. Thought you should know."

"I'm grateful, Saul," Treville and said, before ending the call and stabbing Aramis's number out.

Cutting through formalities, Treville had delivered his brutal message, his operative now wide awake. Aramis had been stunned, the phone call from Porthos a few hours earlier settling uneasily on his shoulders. What if …

And then, Treville's curt order;

"Get Porthos. I want you both back in the office now. I'm on my way."

"Captain ..." Aramis had hissed, "It's Athos," Aramis had hissed, but Treville had cut him off.

"Do as I say, Aramis," he had said, firmly, against Aramis's protests. "Get Porthos and come back here."

He had bluntly refused Aramis's request to go straight to the hospital, for that would serve no purpose. So he had pulled rank, silencing his fierce protests. Saul believed the incident had been captured on CCTV, Treville told him then. All of it. He had pulled rank once more to have the footage sent to his system. There was nothing they could do for Athos, not at the moment, so he had ordered them to get back to the office. In the end, after the line when dead, even he was surprised at the speed they achieved his request.

Treville was waiting for them in his office, the only lit room on the otherwise dark floor.

"Sit," he commanded, as they hurried in, throwing coats on the back of their chairs. They needed direction now. He needed them to focus.

He positioned the monitor so they could see the multiple images displayed on the screen. A tableau of destruction. He had had the time to watch it through once himself while he waited for them and did not relish having to watch it again, particularly with these two next to him.

But watch it they did.

It was stark and brutal.

When it ended, there was silence.

"Mendez," Aramis finally said, his voice startling in the otherwise quiet room.

"What's goin' on, Captain," Porthos ground out as he stood and began to pace around the office. "Why now?"

"You know the background," Treville said, curtly, from behind his desk.

"Only what Athos told me, about the night it happened," Porthos replied, pulling his discarded chair back and sitting, leaning forward and wanting answers. "You know him, he kept it pretty brief," he added.

Treville rubbed his hand over his face, before finally sitting back and pulling open a drawer. He needed a drink. Aramis came forward and took the bottle from him, collecting three glasses from the top of his cabinet. Pouring the brandy, he handed it out, before taking his seat next to Porthos. He knew the tale, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it from the Captain once more if they were to begin an investigation.

"Athos had seen Eduard Mendez only once," Treville began, as he began to tell Porthos.

"He had perceived him to be arrogant and wholly lacking in compassion," he added before settling into the story. "His lawyers were cut from the same cloth."

The Musketeers, he said, had been watching Mendez for some time when word came that an employee of his had sought out one of their under cover agents with information. The employee had been a lowly member of Mendez's house staff in his villa in Nice and had seen Mendez kill a man in cold blood. Shocked by the violence he had witnessed, he had fled, eventually reporting it to the Authorities. The Musketeer's interest had been flagged up and that had led to a meeting being arranged with one of the Musketeer's under-cover agents.

Mendez had been asked to help the Authorities in Nice with their enquiries and Athos, the under cover agent assigned the case, had watched the interview on a monitor in a separate room. Mendez had, of course, denied everything put to him and a search of the villa had revealed nothing. The employee though, in fear of his life and that of his wife, was offered protection in exchange for his testimony, should they find evidence to charge Mendez with the crime. The affair had set off a chain reaction that led to surveillance on Mendez. From that time, it seemed, the interest had sparked a reaction in Mendez that had led him to lead them on a cat and mouse trail of brutal criminality that always saw him avoid arrest. His lawyers were well worth the fortune he paid them. Mendez took the Musketeers to the wire every time, only to leave them frustrated. However, they did not know the depths of his search for vengeance until he made his move on his former employee.

"I promised protection for their continued agreement to testify should Mendez be brought to book," Treville said. "It was the only possibility of such testimony we had. That employee was a very brave man."

"Or very foolish," Aramis conceded.

Treville shot him a look, before taking another hard swallow of his brandy.

"However, Mendez put paid to that," he continued.

They were sure it was Mendez who had murdered the couple, as they were an innocent couple who had no enemies of the calibre of the person who had slaughtered them. After their bodies were discovered in their "safe house," the clean up team had also discovered a covert camera that had been set up, not by the safe team, but by a person unknown who wanted to view the aftermath.

"Whoever found the bodies would be in full view to the murderer," Treville said, flatly.

"Athos never told me that," Porthos said, looking at Aramis.

Aramis, who had not been privy to Athos's and Porthos's conversation in the training room that night, could only shrug.

"By way of protection, Athos and Gilbert were subjected to weeks of surveillance by their own colleagues until word came that Mendez had been spotted in South America," Treville continued.

"Things settled down, though neither Athos nor Gilbert ever forgot that day. Gilbert left the service not long after and his record of service has been protected in such a way that he could not be traced in his new life.

"Athos, though," Aramis finished, "Has remained defiantly in service. Thereby, if anything, daring Mendez to make a move."

Porthos nodded.

"'Course he has," he said, before raising his glass.

"To Athos," he said. "He's a fighter," he added, firmly, as he stared at the now-frozen computer screen.

They had watched the fire crew work. And the medics.

They all solemnly clinked glasses, before Porthos and Aramis rose to their feet and looked down expectantly at their Captain.

"Go," Treville said, as they drained their glasses. "I'll join you soon."

They didn't need telling twice, as they rushed from the office to the hospital.

His parting words to them had been ominous;

"Be careful."

oOo

To be continued ...