Chapter 7 - Day 5 Part 3

Aramis was up in seconds, putting his hands on the boy's cheeks, "d'Artagnan, can you hear me?" He looked frantically at the various machines but was too overwhelmed with a sudden sense of panic to discern what any of it meant.

A doctor and small team of nurses quickly entered the room, having been alerted to the alarms, and immediately got to work trying to stabilise d'Artagnan. The three men were ushered out of the room, in too much of a state of shock to put up any protests.

From the hallway they continued to watch what was happening through the window into d'Artagnan's room, not one of them saying a single word.

Athos couldn't take his eyes off of d'Artagnan's closed eyelids. He was trying to remain calm, yet it seems his heart hadn't gotten the message, feeling like it was going at a million beats per second. D'Artagnan had deteriorated so suddenly. It all happened so fast. One minute he was fine, and the next he was dying all over again.

The doctor was scanning the set of notes at the foot of d'Artagnan's bed whilst calling out orders. One of the nurses was checking the drip whilst another was fiddling with the machines.

Numbers were called out and more orders were given but none of it meant anything to the three men waiting desperately for the machines to stop their incessant beeping. Porthos, who was in the middle of the three, silently found the two hands hanging by his own and grabbed hold of them. Aramis and Athos both gently squeezed back but neither of them stopped watching the inside of the busy hospital room.

The nurses stopped what they were doing for a moment, observing to see if their actions had aided the patient at all, but it quickly became clear that the deterioration was continuing as the shallow up and down movement of d'Artagnan's chest decided to cease entirely.

The doctor moved swiftly to the head of the bed and lowered it, removing the cannula from under d'Artagnan's nose.

"No…" Aramis whispered to himself. He knew what was coming, he had seen it happen before to many friends after missions gone really wrong, but seeing it happen now made him suddenly find it harder to breathe. Oh the irony.

The doctor gently tilted d'Artagnan's head back and proceeded to feed the tube a nurse had just passed him down his patient's throat. Tears silently rolled down Athos' cheeks as he watched the doctor continue to set up the ventilator.

The medical team paused again to watch the machines for any changes and thankfully a moment later when d'Artagnan's vitals evened out the three men found it just that little bit easier to breathe again.

. . . . . .

They had been allowed back into d'Artagnan's room after the doctor had completed a series of tests to try and work out what had happened. Considering the fact that all signs had pointed to d'Artagnan making a full recovery after his surgery, this sudden decline was very concerning.

They hadn't said much to each other, the sudden seriousness of the situation having left them at a loss for words. They just hoped that d'Artagnan knew somehow that they were by his side.

The continuous whoosh of the ventilator was making Athos feel a bit sick and so he tried to focus instead on the quiet prayers that Aramis was saying. Athos had never considered himself a religious person but he was willing to believe in any powerful deity right now if it would help d'Artagnan.

The doctor gave a gentle knock on the door, as to not startle the men, before entering.

The way they all sat up a bit straighter and looked at him hopefully gave him the sign to dive straight in and let them know what he had found.

"So as you know, d'Artagnan suddenly deteriorating this quickly shouldn't have happened according to his earlier test results, but the ones that we have just conducted do explain why he is now unable to breathe on his own."

He went on to explain how there was now a new chemical showing up in his blood that they had been unable to detect before. How this chemical was made up of components, some of which they were still unable to figure out, that was essentially some kind of poison. How this poison was attacking d'Artagnan's cells and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

"We can help to partially fight the drug as it works its way through the body and try to keep d'Artagnan stable, but I don't know how long his body is going to be able to withstand it for."

"He's going to die?" Porthos gasped, still trying to process what was being said.

"Not if we find the antidote," the doctor quickly assured him, "this isn't random, this is a chemically engineered poison, for which there has to be an antidote."

"Well, can't you just make an antidote here?" Aramis asked, hoping desperately for the answer to be yes.

"Not whilst we don't know the exact components that the poison is made up of. But if you happen to know how d'Artagnan got in contact with it…"

"Vadim." Athos stated firmly, "He must have poisoned him back at the library somehow?"

"Or when he stabbed him? Maybe it was on the blade?" Aramis added.

"When it happened doesn't matter, right now we just need to find the antidote." Porthos rightly pointed out. "I'll call Treville, he'll get a confession out of Vadim."

"No," Athos cut him off, "I'll go down there and get it out of him myself." He stated as he marched out the door.

Aramis and Porthos shared a knowing look. "You better go with him," the former suggested.

. . . . . .

"What's in the poison Vadim?" Athos demanded, slamming his hands on the table in front of the man.

Vadim was sitting in the questioning room with the two police officers. There was a desk in front of him which his hands had been handcuffed to, giving him no choice but to stay seated on the cold metal chair he had been provided with.

He had been brought out of his cell for Athos and Porthos to interrogate him and up until this point Vadim had stayed silent, bravely keeping eye contact with Athos to show him that he would not break. He could see the desperation written all over their faces from the second he had walked into the room and it brought him a lot of joy to be tormenting the men, even after he had been caught.

"Let me remind you Vadim" Athos continued, his voice low, "We've already got enough evidence to charge you with a whole number of crimes, as well as attempted murder. But if d'Artagnan dies, you will be convicted of murder and do you know what will be worse than that prison sentence? You'll have me to deal with."

After a quick internal debate with himself, Vadim knew he would have to answer him, "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Athos asked.

"I don't know what's in the poison." Vadim shrugged, keeping a straight face.

"If you're lying to me…" Athos began, fully prepared to unleash all of his anger on the man in front of him.

"Athos wait, what if he's telling the truth…" Porthos spoke up, neglecting the good cop role and heading straight to condescending cop, "I mean think about it, Vadim may have come up with the idea, but let's be honest, it's not like he actually has the brains - or the means - to be able to create it."

Athos took a second to consider this valid point. Trust Porthos to be the level-headed one who worked it all out. "He has an accomplice."

"An accomplice who'll know how to make an antidote." Porthos finished his friend's train of thought.

"You know you're a lot smarter than that friend of yours." Vadim interrupted their conversation, "He was with me for days, doing everything I told him, and he had no idea that I was playing him."

Athos' head whipped round to look at Vadim, but foreseeing what his friend was about to do, Porthos stepped in front of him, blocking his view.

"Why don't you let me carry on from here while you get some air?" His friend suggested quietly.

"No, we have to find out what he-"

"Athos," Porthos gently interrupted, "You're letting Vadim get to you and he knows it. Just go and take a break then come back in a few minutes, okay?"

Giving in, Athos left the room and headed straight for the coffee machine in order to fulfil his need for caffeine. The late nights he'd had this week worrying about d'Artagnan were catching up on him.

Inside the interrogation room Porthos continued his questioning, anxious to get answers out of Vadim.

"So who's your accomplice, hmm? Where is he now whilst you're stuck in here?" Porthos goaded, but it was clear that their prisoner had resumed his vow of silence.

"Do I have to remind you of the impending murder charge hanging over your head? If you don't tell me where I can find an antidote, my friend is going to die. And then once we have you, you're never getting out." Porthos was leaning over the table and was right in Vadim's face by this point.

Sighing in defeat, Vadim answered, "I don't know what's in the poison, but I know where you can find the guy who makes it. His name is Claude Beaumont, he's a scientist. He found me a while back and offered me his services."

"Then what happened?" Porthos sat down and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I accepted his help, obviously, I'd had an idea for a type of poison for a while but had no way of making it and it seemed my wish had been granted."

"What does it do? This poison?" Porthos pushed him for more answers.

"It causes someone's body to shut down. I wanted it to work slowly, that way I could poison my target and then a few hours later whilst they were slowly, yet painfully, dying I could get far, far away from them. That way their death was certain and I couldn't be blamed." Vadim leaned forward, smirking.

"How the hell did one man make something like that?" Porthos questioned.

"I don't know, do I?" Vadim was getting tired of the questions. "I told him what I wanted, and he did it."

"How long has d'Artagnan got?"

"Oh don't worry your friend's got at least another day left. I didn't want him to die too quickly now did I? It's a lot more fun, prolonging someone's agony." Vadim grinned.

Porthos clenched his fists and took a deep breath, just because they knew what was happening to d'Artagnan didn't mean they knew how to cure him.

"This Claude Beaumont. Where can I find him?"

. . . . . .

Athos took a sip of his coffee. He had been heading back to Vadim when Elodie had informed him that another of Vadim's crew had been prepped and was waiting to be questioned.

There was no point going back in with Vadim if he was going to be of no use to Porthos, so instead he decided to see what he could get out of the young woman. So far he had spent ten minutes trying to get even a slither of information out of her regarding Vadim's true plans, but so far nothing.

Athos wiped his hand across his face. He didn't have any anger left in him, he barely had enough energy left for desperation. "Right Lucie look at it this way, Vadim's not getting out of here anytime soon and we have plenty more of his crew locked up here waiting for us to talk to them. So I can send you back to your cell right now and get what I need from one of them instead, but that means your chances of getting out of here are dwindling by the minute."

Still, Lucie didn't look up.

"Fine, if that question is too difficult for you, how about this one. Did you know what he was planning to do to d'Artagnan."

"Who?" Lucie asked, genuinely bewildered.

"Oh right, Christophe…did you know about Vadim's plans to kill him."

Any answers Lucie wanted to keep to herself were revealed across her face within a second. Was Christophe okay? She had no idea that something might have happened, simply assuming that he too was currently waiting in one of holding cells.

Her mouth opened and closed slightly a few times, almost in the imitation of a fish, as she tried to decide whether to break her silence regarding Vadim's plans.

Athos could almost see the cogs turning in her brain, but the small amount of hope that he'd allowed himself to feel faded as Lucie pursed her lips firmly and avoided his eye contact.

He sighed and nodded to himself, turning towards the door without saying another word.

Lucie bit her lip feeling a sudden sense of conflict and as soon as Athos' hand touched the door handle she blurted out, "Wait! Wait…I'll tell you."

. . . . . .

Aramis was still in the room with d'Artagnan. He knew it was stupid but he had been too afraid to leave, like d'Artagnan would suddenly deteriorate further whilst he wasn't there.

Looking at the boy lying in front of him made his stomach tighten.

He had thought that d'Artagnan looked pale earlier when they were waiting for him to wake up the first time, but now he was like a ghost, fading away right in front of him. His paper-thin eyelids that showed no movement underneath, the blue tinge to the fingernails of his too still hands, the bloodless lips parted slightly around the tube making that goddamn noise that Aramis wished would just stop.

But it wasn't going to stop.

Not whilst they didn't have the antidote.

The antidote to the poison currently eating away at d'Artagnan's life.

All because they had failed to bring d'Artagnan home safely.

He was wary about holding d'Artagnan's hand, as much as he longed for the contact.

He had asked the doctor earlier if d'Artagnan was in pain and it broke his heart to hear that he probably was. They had had to lower his dose of pain relief until they knew what was in the poison, not wanting to risk any further harm on the off chance that the chemicals become even more toxic when combined.

So despite the coma, d'Artagnan was probably feeling the burning pain of both his stab wound and the poison flowing through his body.

"You know, once you get better and inevitably demand to come back to work, we're probably never going to let you out of our sight again."

Aramis ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He could feel himself getting choked up.

"I need you to hold on d'Artagnan. Just for a little bit longer. Athos and Porthos, they're looking for the antidote right now and they'll find it soon, I promise you. We won't let you down again."

He watched d'Artagnan for a moment, hoping for something, anything, any kind of sign that he could hear him and that he was going to keep fighting.

He didn't know whether to be disappointed or not when there wasn't any.

He bent his head, resting his elbows on his knees and started praying again. He needed to do something to take his mind off of how helpless he actually was. He let his quietly mumbled words wash over him as he pleaded with his God to save his brother.

After a few moments of contemplation, Aramis noticed movement in his peripheral vision.

D'Artagnan's hand twitched a few times against the sheets and for a second Aramis stupidly allowed himself to be filled with the hope that he might be waking up, before all of his long lanky limbs constricted and started seizing uncontrollably.

The machines began their frantic warnings but Aramis was frozen to the spot, unable to take his eyes off of d'Artagnan's body spasming like he was a fish on a hook, watching how his head kept jerking back unnaturally against the tube and how his hands were shaking as if a thousand volts was running through him.

It was only when he started making an awful choking sound did Aramis finally snap out of it and rush to the door, yanking it open whilst shouting for help.

. . . . . .

"If I'm honest with myself I think I've been waiting for this day for some time now. For when Vadim finally goes too far and I can't stand by and watch anymore. We do everything for him, anything he asks, we'd lay down our lives for him. But if it came down to it, he wouldn't return the favour. He doesn't care about the rest of us, he's only in it for himself."

Athos hadn't informed Lucie of d'Artagnan's true identity, instead choosing to use it to his advantage. She hadn't brought up his earlier slip-up regarding his real name and her anger over what had happened to him seemed to be fuelling her confession.

"Christophe was a good man…a desperate man, but a good one," she continued.

"Desperate?"

"I've only known him a few days, but every second he's been with us he's been trying to prove himself to Vadim, almost trying to show that he's worthy despite having nothing to owe him for. But he can't have known what he was committing himself to, he's still just a kid really."

Athos closed his eyes, those words reminding yet again him of the very reason he didn't want d'Artagnan involved in all of this.

"I don't know anything about this poison or whatever, but I do know that stealing the painting wasn't his only plan for today. He wants to make a name for himself, to go down in history forever."

"And how did he intend on doing that?"

"By blowing up half of Paris," she gave a small defeatist chuckle, "he has people planting bombs everywhere."

"Do you know where?" Athos pushed, startled by this new information.

Lucie shook her head. "I wasn't even supposed to know about this, none of the library crew knew, it's only because Vadim left his papers unattended yesterday for like two minutes and I'm very good at being nosy. The festival was his perfect opportunity and there's no way he's going to waste it."

"Well no matter, we have Vadim and all his crew, so there's no one left to give the order to anyway," Athos started before Lucie's point registered, "…wait. If none of his 'library crew' knew about his plans, who's planting the bombs?"

Lucie started at him in disbelief for a moment. "How long have you been after Vadim? Did you seriously think that that tiny group of us was his only crew?! He's planned for every possible outcome! He has people everywhere, more than I know about. Whether you have Vadim or not those bombs are still going to be set off."