Chapter Nineteen

"You sure you want to do this?" Porthos asked, as he and Aramis sat closeted with Athos in his hospital room.

The three friends had been sitting for over two hours, heads together, working out a strategy that should see Mendez finally within their grasp. They had argued, sometimes ferociously, before finally agreeing a plan. In the end, Athos had his way. How could it be otherwise?

"You're absolutely sure?" he persisted.

Athos looked up and met his large friend's concerned gaze with a blank stare.

Porthos raised both hands in appeasement;

"Alright," he said. "But ..."

"No buts, Porthos," Athos cut him off before he could raise further concerns.

Aramis reached out and took the sheets of paper Athos had been drawing on.

"We have no choice, my friends," he said, as he studied the floor plans of Athos's home.

"The surrounding area?" he asked.

"You have seen it," Athos replied. "Mainly residential, but there is a good view of the house from the street."

"And the street from the house?"

"Not quite so good, but there is plenty of cover from the trees," Athos replied. "Not enough to evade the cameras," he added. "Hopefully."

"So if he comes, we'll see him," Porthos said.

"Not "if," Athos replied, his voice firm. "When."

"So it's up to us to make sure he sees us," Porthos grunted.

"Exactly," Athos said, a small smile on his lips.

"Why does it feel like we're prawns on a bar-b-que?" Porthos asked.

Athos snorted.

"You mean pawns on a chessboard," he said, with a smile.

Porthos winked at him.

"Ah, I see," Athos said, with a gracious tilt of his head. "A food analogy."

"Works for me," Porthos laughed.

They both grew serious then, sharing a look.

Aramis gathered up the drawings and set them aside.

At that point, Ninon entered, pushing a wheelchair. They had decided against an electric one in the end, for appearances sake. Athos eased himself carefully off the bed and walked the few steps over to it. Porthos stood behind it, holding it steady as Athos carefully lowered himself into it.

"Perfect," he smiled.

"I'm sure you all know what you are doing," Ninon said.

Athos reached up and took her hand.

"Like prawns on a bar-b-que," he replied.

She shook her head and tutted.

"You're all mad," she replied, though she held Athos's hand a little tighter. She had grown quite fond of these three men.

"It helps," Aramis said, as he pulled out his gun and checked the chamber, before giving her a bright smile.

"Let's do this," Porthos nodded, reaching out his hand and holding it palm down.

Athos and Aramis each placed a hands on top.

"All for one," Athos murmured, their eyes locked.

"And one for all," his friends replied.

oOo

Later:

Porthos pushed the wheelchair out the rear door of the hospital, where a black van with blacked-out windows awaited.

Opening the back doors, he pressed a switch and the integral hydraulic platform began to descend. Cargo on board, he slammed the doors, jumped quickly into the driving seat and turned the engine on.

"Hold on tight," he growled, as he pulled out into the Paris streets, and they settled in for the drive.

Forty minutes later, under the shadow of the ancient château, they entered Chevreuse and followed the pretty winding river through the twisting streets. Past the people enjoying the village in the sunshine. Past the little cheese shop they had visited on their first visit. Porthos's mind drifted back to Paris and he was reminded of Maurice Pellier and his invitation to sample his wines. That was a promise he would keep he thought, as he gripped the steering wheel a little harder.

They pulled up outside Athos's house, tall and imposing behind its railings. Porthos pulled around the side of the house and they sat for a little while in full view before Porthos jumped out and went to the back of the van to activate the hydraulic platform. It slowly lowered the wheelchair down to the roadway. Again they lingered before both men shared a look and Porthos took Athos's key fob and activated the electronic gate to the garage.

Athos's motorbike stood at the rear of the garage. There was an empty place where the imposing Alpha had sat the last time they were in here. However, there was no need to linger now they were inside and Porthos pushed on to the end of the corridor that led to the lift. Once inside the lift, the door slid silently open and they saw the pool beyond.

Emerging from the lift, Porthos looked around.

"You think he saw us?" Porthos asked.

"I'm pretty sure he's out there. We were suspicious enough to look interesting," his friend replied.

"I'm going to check the rest of the house out," Porthos said. "You alright down here?" he added, as he pushed the wheelchair to the seating area at the end of the pool.

"Bring some food, we might be down here a while."

"I'll see what I can find," Porthos smiled, as he headed toward the spiral staircase. "Do you want a book to read?" he called down and laughed at the look on his friend's face and his one word reply;

"Focus."

Athos's plan was simple.

They were both sitting ducks, one of them in a wheelchair. Tempting for any psychopath, especially one with a personal grudge.

Porthos made his way through the house, hoping that Athos's strategy would work. One way or another Mendez's feud would end tonight.

oOo

It felt strange, wandering alone around Athos's home, although he had given him permission to thoroughly explore. He had insisted, in fact, knowing Porthos needed to see the terrain where they would engage the enemy.

Athos had not wanted to put anyone in the hospital at risk but they had been surprised when he had suggested luring Mendez to his own home; until Athos reminded them of the layout and circular routes within the house that a stranger would not be familiar with. It was up to them to make the layout work.

Opening one door after another over the two upper floors, he came upon the master bedroom with a walk-in closet and a study. Further along in his exploration, two bathrooms and three further bedrooms. He closed the door on each and made his way downstairs, back to the kitchen. Now, when he looked at the console he had the plan of the house in his mind. Tracking a shadow can be difficult if you don't know the lay of the land.

He had to admire Athos's taste. Even though his friend had said he had not done anything to the house, it certainly reflected him. He probably meant he had not remodelled it, because this was Athos's style.

In all the rooms, the fabrics, the floors and the artworks all spoke of his aristocratic brother. It was dark, but there were splashes of colour and warm lighting, dark wooden floors and mahogany doors. It was under-stated but subtley alive, somehow. Porthos's own home was bright with colour, Aramis's apartment was all muted creams and greens. Each spoke of the person, and this house spoke of Athos. Where Athos had a sparsity of words, his house spoke volumes. Porthos felt comfortable here and determined he would protect it, as he would protect his friend.

Walking back into the kitchen, he booted up the console in the kitchen that Athos and Aramis had watched when he was taking his swim in the pool. It was a sophisticated system, allowing Athos to see each room in the house. He checked out the upper floors, recognising now where he had just been. Athos was very security conscious, he mused, but on this occasion, he was willing to allow a mad man into his home. Porthos wondered if he would be able to continue living here once the night was over.

The pool area came into view and Porthos checked the position of his friend in the wheelchair. He was slumped, as they had agreed, making himself look vulnerable, a thin blanket around his shoulders. They had agreed to stay in the pool area, making it look as if Athos was merely recuperating in his own home, but all the while, they were both attentive to their surroundings.

Porthos checked the rest of the images. The screen showed no movement. The garage was clear.

He began to rummage around the cupboards, trying to find something edible for the two of them.

Athos's cupboards held a few tins. The man obviously relied on food deliveries, if he ever ate here when he was at home. There were a few pizzas in the freezer, and he was touched to see they were Porthos's personal favourites. He put two in the oven and put a timer on his watch. The aroma of cooking would be a draw to any intruder, indicating the whereabouts of the owner, though Porthos could monitor the house from the small console in the pool area. Hopefully they would get to eat before Mendez appeared. If he didn't appear, they were prepared to camp out here until he did. The hospital had officially discharged Athos, if Mendez cared to check and the man seemed adept at finding those he wanted.

The seriousness of their task did not escape him though, as he made his way through the library. Stopping at a shelf by the door to the spiral staircase, he pulled a Dumas from the shelf with a grin.

In the time it took him to move from the kitchen to the pool, a shadow emerged from the cover of the many trees at the end of the street, out of camera range.

Porthos had been right, they had been a large target and for a psychopath with a personal grudge, it was too good an opportunity to miss.

To be continued ...