Chapter 9 - Day 5 Part 5
The location of the first bomb was written very clearly at the top of the list. Église Saint-Eustache. The Church of St Eustache. The large, majestic church located about 10 minutes away from the festival.
"I don't want to tempt fate or anything, but why hasn't he set the bomb off yet?" Porthos asked aloud, "We were trapped in that room for god knows how long, he's had all the time in the world with no one to stop him."
"No idea. Let's just hope it's not because he's waiting for us to turn up first and take us out with it."
Porthos paused as he considered Athos' answer, "Oh…I hadn't thought of that. Oh you've upset me now."
Athos gave a small chuckle to himself as he continued watching the road. They were almost at the church, but the closer they got to the festival the more traffic there was.
They weren't going into this with a plan, it was more of a 'see what we find when we turn up' situation. Athos just hoped that they wouldn't find a pile of rubble.
They had decided against telling Aramis that they had found the antidote. They honestly didn't know how long it would be until they reached the hospital - if they reached it at all, thinking about it - and so thought it was best not to get anyone's hopes up or cause any changes to d'Artagnan's treatment.
It also meant that they didn't have to hear anymore about d'Artagnan's condition, because finding out that he had deteriorated further would only make putting him as a lower priority that much harder.
Your location is on the right, the car's sat nav informed them, finally.
Athos wasted no time in putting the car haphazardly into park and jumping out. The pair hastily ran up the front steps towards the church and pushed the heavy doors open.
The grand building was fairly empty, most people were at the festival after all. But the few that were sitting in the pews or admiring the architecture were quietly ushered out by Porthos who, after flashing his police badge, informed them that they needed to get as far away as possible.
They both did a quick sweep of the ground floor before meeting back up at the entrance.
"All clear downstairs." Porthos whispered as he nodded towards the singular winding staircase that would lead to the balcony. "You think he's up there?"
"Only one way to find out."
. . . . . .
Hours. It had been hours since Aramis had last had an update about his friends' whereabouts and he was starting to worry.
Actually, that's a lie. He'd been in a constant state of worry since the beginning of d'Artagnan's rapid decline but he refused to panic in front of the boy. If d'Artagnan was to die, Aramis wanted the last words he heard to be peaceful.
He rubbed the nape of his neck and closed his eyes for a moment in an attempt to ground himself. He had forgone the book a while ago, instead deciding to tell d'Artagnan some stories of his own that the boy might prefer.
Taking a deep breath he continued talking.
"Do you remember that one time we went to that farm because there were reports of a break in? We could hear the owner inside screaming for the intruder to go away and it was like the four of us suddenly became secret agents as we creeped around to different entrances of the farm house. I'm pretty sure you even army rolled underneath that kitchen window."
He gave a small chuckle.
"Then we burst open the doors, guns at the ready, shouting that it was the police and we found the owner's girlfriend standing on the table waving a tea towel at these chickens that were flapping everywhere."
Running a hand through his hair, Aramis noticed the beads of sweat had returned to d'Artagnan's forehead. He lent forward and gently wiped the boy's face with the washcloth that had been left for him.
D'Artagnan had been running a high fever for about an hour now. Sepsis, the doctor had confirmed after a few tests. The liver failure along with the very recent surgery and the fact that he was on a ventilator had left him completely susceptible to infection. It really was one thing after another.
"And while we all helped to calm the lady down and discover what had happened, we left you to round up the chickens. I believe Porthos called it your rookie initiation? You got proper stuck in though, the determination on your little face! They kept nipping you but you were trying so hard to stay professional!"
The blood pressure monitor started beeping again. The doctor had warned Aramis that the sepsis could lead to a rapid drop in blood pressure, which, if drastic enough, would stop oxygen from reaching d'Artagnan's organs and tissues and could cause his entire immune system to go into overdrive. It had happened a few times now, but for reasons that the doctor had no answers for, D'Artagnan's seemed to only drop dangerously for a few minutes before settling again, so there wasn't much to be done for it.
"They'll be here soon d'Artagnan, I promise." Aramis spoke softly as he wiped the boy's forehead again. "Now where was I? Oh yes, the chickens."
. . . . . .
Crouched down at the back of the balcony, Claude was checking over the bomb for the sixth time since he had arrived. He knew that all the components were in place and he knew exactly what he had to do to detonate it, but he also knew that he only had one chance to get this right for Vadim.
He had memorised the entire layout and schedule of the festival in preparation for this moment and knew exactly which timings were the best to put Vadim's plan into action. The next slot was in 20 minutes.
But something told him that he was going to end up being ahead of schedule. Maybe it was the heavy beating of his heart and the impending sense of dread at the thought of failing Vadim.
Maybe it was the sound of footsteps currently climbing the stairs.
"Did you get the antidote to your boy in time?" Claude asked, turning to face Athos as he reached the top step. "I'll take your silence as a no."
Athos, unfazed by Claude's predictable taunt, quickly took stock of the situation. The balcony itself was not very large, but the time it would take to get past the few rows of chairs to where Claude was standing next to the bomb would give the man plenty of time to set it off.
"Just step away from the bomb Claude," Athos gently requested, not wanting to suddenly spook the man into doing something unforgivable. "It's not too late."
"Oh it is. For you. You've failed and Vadim's beaten you once again." Claude grinned.
Porthos gave Athos a quick nod before starting to edge along the front of the balcony, drawing the attention to himself. "You're on your own Claude! You really think that if you do this, the other bombs will be set off too? You are hours behind Vadim's schedule, they would have long given up and gone home by now."
"You clearly know nothing about loyalty! Vadim's men will not leave their posts until the job is done. No matter how long it takes, they'll have complete faith in Vadim that it will be completed."
Athos, who had gone left when Porthos had gone right, had reached the back of the balcony and only had one row of chairs standing between him and the bomb.
"And what will you get for your trouble?" Porthos continued. "They'll all be able to escape but we've got you now."
"It'll be worth it. For Vadim." Claude said before turning his head to face Athos. With a small smirk, he leant down and activated the bomb.
. . . . . .
"I don't think I ever told you about the first time we met Marguerite. It was years before you joined us."
Aramis rubbed his eyes and took a sip of his coffee.
"One summer we got a call about a woman sitting on top of the library roof in nothing but her underwear. It was something like five o'clock in the morning so there wasn't many people around but someone called it in, afraid she was going to fall off or something.
So we got there and, as we had been told, there was a half naked lady perched on the roof, her legs hanging off the edge. All she had on was some matching neon pink underwear and a huge pair of sunglasses, I swear to you they must have taken up like half of her face. And she was holding what looked like a pad of paper so instantly we thought the worst.
Turns out that it was a canvas she was holding. Once we'd gotten up to the roof we found this huge array of paints and paintbrushes and saw that she'd been painting the sunrise coming up from over the park across the street.
Apparently it was the perfect spot to capture her true artistic vision, something about being far from the ground meant that she wasn't tied down and it gave her the opportunity to free her mind, spirit, soul and body. Well, the last one was freed due to the lack of clothes.
Anyway, we helped her down, told her not to do it again and sent her on her way."
Aramis couldn't hold back a yawn as he rubbed his eyes again.
"And I really wish that had been the last I heard of it, but unfortunately I made a rather embarrassing blunder. You see for an 80-something year old, that woman was in pretty good shape and what with her bright pink attire, her long flowing hair and those huge sunglasses that happened to hide a few obvious wrinkles, I may have started my usual flirty routine to try and get her to come down.
By that point in my career I'd worked with Athos and Porthos for long enough that those two knew exactly what it looked like when I was flirting for real and well, you can imagine how mortifying it was when she finally came down from the roof and we got a proper look at her. Lovely woman but she's not exactly my type."
Aramis smiled at the nostalgia of the story.
"And that right there was the beginning of years of torment from those two every time Marguerite was mentioned."
Aramis' mood turned somber as he considered the words he had just uttered and got the sudden urge to get something off his chest.
"You know we only mess with you because we care about you, right? I know that sounds stupid but you're the baby of the group and I guess that means you're the easiest to pick on." Aramis stubbornly wiped a stray tear that had rolled down his cheek. "I've always just assumed you enjoyed it, but we'll stop, if that's what you want. As soon as you wake up, you tell us to stop and we will. We only want what's best for you, you know that?"
The blood pressure monitor starting beeping again and Aramis glared at it, daring it to continue, but then the heart monitor joined in like some cruel orchestra. Then the telltale, drawn out whine of an absent heart rate began.
It took him a second to fully register before Aramis jumped out of his seat and yanked open the door, shouting for someone to help.
He stood back and watched the now too-familiar scene of doctors and nurses running in to bring his friend back to life.
"D'Artagnan please," Aramis prayed, watching with his hands clasped behind his head "Just hold on a little bit longer."
. . . . . .
It all happened very quickly. Claude activated the bomb and then ran straight for the front of the balcony, only to be stopped from jumping over by Porthos who effortlessly tackled him to the ground.
Athos ran straight for the bomb only to be reminded that he actually had no idea what to do when faced with a large explosive. The timer was counting down from three minutes and he wasn't really sure if it was a blessing or a curse.
Three minutes was much longer than he expected to see on the device. For an experienced bomb tech that was the equivalent of hours. Unfortunately he was not an experienced bomb tech, so three minutes was a long time to wait for the inevitable.
Porthos glanced over to Athos and the sudden panic in the man's eyes told him everything he needed to know.
"Deactivate it now Claude or I swear…" He demanded from the man he was still pinning to the floor.
"Or what?" Claude spat back, "What will you do?"
Claude was prepared to do anything for Vadim, but now that the moment had arrived he realised that he wasn't actually that keen on dying for him. He tried to wriggle out of Porthos' hold but the larger man's brute strength meant that he wasn't going anywhere.
Desperate to escape, Claude released a swift head butt before taking advantage of the man's momentary shock to push him into the row of chairs and make a break for the staircase.
Porthos, who should never be underestimated, grabbed Claude's ankle before he got very far and dragged him, with a thud, back down to the floor.
Trusting that Porthos had the situation in hand, Athos focused on his own problems. The bright red letters glared at him as they continued counting down. 2:36.
Great, he had two and a half minutes to learn how to defuse a bomb. Or call someone who might have the answers.
Pulling his phone out of his pocket he found Treville's number and let it ring.
The person you are calling is on the phone. Please hang up and try again later.
"Damn it Treville." He muttered to himself as he ended the call.
Taking a moment to observe the bomb properly, he noticed that the entire thing was encased, like a small metal box, with the only accessible part being a front panel held closed by a small latch. Taking a deep breath, he undid the latch and allowed the panel to swing open.
Inside he found an array of wires in four different colours. Red, blue, green and black.
"Okay, this is easy, it's the red one, it's always the red one." Athos whispered to himself, trying to think back to every action movie he'd ever seen. "Unless there's like ten red ones in which case let's not do that. There's only one green one, maybe it's that?"
A grunt from behind him grabbed his attention as he saw Claude trip over a chair in a continued attempt to escape. "Who am I kidding, I have no clue what I'm doing."
He tried calling Treville again as he watched the clock reach two minutes.
Meanwhile, Porthos was still grappling with Claude, amazed by his inability to admit defeat. He quickly ducked to avoid the hymn books being thrown at his head and lunged again for Claude.
"Give up Claude! You're not going anywhere, just defuse the bloody bomb already!"
Claude grinned and managed to jump out of the way, edging closer and closer to the exit.
"You think this is funny do you?!" Porthos was getting frustrated now and ran straight for the man, slamming him against the wall and keeping him pinned with a hand at his throat.
Claude clawed at Porthos' hand before resorting to kneeing him in the groin. Porthos couldn't stop the expletive from leaving his mouth but did not let slip of his captive.
"I can't stop it Porthos, we have to get out now!" Athos shouted to his partner, before running over to join him.
Porthos did not take his eyes off Claude as he asked, "How long's left?"
Athos shook his head. "Minute and a half. Not enough time for bomb squad even if I could get through to Treville."
Porthos grabbed Claude from the wall and pulled his arms behind his back, "If you want to get out of here alive, you are going to cooperate, do you understand."
Claude eyed Porthos defiantly but did not disagree. Porthos made it clear to Athos that he had Claude secured before they swiftly reached the staircase.
In a final attempt to get free, Claude saw his opportunity and, using Porthos' grip on him as support, jumped up and kicked Athos in the back.
With a pained grunt, Athos fell onto his front at the top of the staircase but to his relief, he managed to catch himself before falling and so did not make it past the first two steps.
Balancing awkwardly at the top of the downward spiral he noticed the small glass vial he had been keeping safe in his jacket, bounce delicately towards the bottom. As quickly as it had fallen out of his pocket, it left his sight as it rounded the curling steps but the tiny smash heard seconds later was unmistakable.
"No." Athos let out a delicate whisper, in disbelief at what had just happened.
Had they just failed at both jobs in a matter of minutes? They had chosen to stop Claude first, but by doing so they had just doomed both d'Artagnan and the hundreds of innocent, unsuspecting people at the festival.
"Athos, get up." Porthos demanded, he knew exactly what he had just witnessed but they could deal with it once they were no longer at risk of being blown to pieces.
The three men ran down the stairs, past the small puddle of blue liquid and shattered glass and out the front door.
They continued running halfway down the street, Athos shouting at everyone he saw to get away from the church whilst Porthos kept his grip on Claude even tighter.
The explosion was not too devastating when you look at the grand scheme of things. It was large enough that the ground shook and knocked everyone nearby off their feet and it completely levelled the church. A few nearby buildings were hit by flying debris but in terms of blast radius that was it.
Except that wasn't it, Athos reminded himself, that right there was the signal to set off nine other bombs.
. . . . . .
Treville was a busy man at the best of times. Coordinating bomb squad and police to ten different locations whilst also dealing with the biggest festival of the year, with two men unavailable at the hospital, two men on the way to a bomb they would have idea how to deal with and a criminal mastermind in holding. That was a whole other level.
He had informed the bomb squad of the believed location of each device but as there were so many locations and not enough men, he had to prioritise. Athos and Porthos were already heading towards the first location before he had even dispatched officers to the rest so if everything went to plan they would be able to stop Claude by themselves.
And he had complete faith in them to do so.
He ordered bomb disposal teams to locations two, three and four. Once they had safely defused their respective bombs they would move onto the next.
He also sent two officers to each location on the list. It was getting late and there was more likely to be trouble at the festival at this time, so that was all the manpower he could safely spare.
In an ideal world their targets would be apprehended swiftly, with no detonations, no casualties and no extra paperwork for him to complete.
All teams were well on their way and he had even just gotten off the phone with Dominic who had informed him that he and Elodie had already apprehended the target at location number seven when he noticed two missed calls from Athos.
On their way back with Beaumont I guess, Treville told himself, but as he tapped on Athos' name to return his call a loud boom echoed through the city.
Along with every officer in the room, Treville ran to the window. A big, black cloud of smoke could be seen in the distance and instantly he thought he might be a little off with his prediction of what Athos' call was about.
Seconds later the room was once again filled with noise and movement as phones start ringing and officers are given their orders.
Treville immediately sent any remaining officers he could find to the church, the obvious location of the explosion, before calling Athos.
. . . . . .
Still on the floor, Athos, Porthos and Claude watched as the smoke cleared and the dust settled. They watched as everyone nearby picked themselves up off the floor, checking on one another or frantically talking into their phones, staring at the burning pile of rubble in shock. No one looked to be too badly injured though.
A tinny ringtone played from Athos' pocket and he was surprised he could hear it over the ringing in his ears.
"Hello?" He coughed in an attempt to clear the smoke from his lungs.
"Athos are you okay?" A worried voice asked.
"Treville?" Athos coughed again, "Sir, it detonated. The bomb, it's gone off, you have to get everyone away from the festival."
"Athos it's okay, teams have already been dispatched, it's all been taken care of." Treville paused before asking again, "Are you okay?"
Athos watched as Porthos dragged Claude to his feet, "We're fine Sir, just a few scrapes and bruises."
"Good. I've sent people to your location, they should be with you soon. Do you still have your eyes on Beaumont?"
"Unfortunately, yes." Athos replied, deadpan. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Porthos threatened to silence Claude for good if he didn't stop wriggling.
"Good. Pass him over when the officers arrive and get that antidote to the hospital." Treville ordered, "And get yourself and Porthos checked over whilst you're there. You hear me?"
"Yes Sir, we're on it." Athos replied before ending the call.
Get the antidote to the hospital? What antidote?
Moments later, three police cars pulled up at a safe distance from the wreckage, sirens blaring and lights flashing. Athos ran over to greet them and briefly explained the situation. Claude was handed over to Annabelle who securely cuffed him and locked him in the back seat whilst everyone else worked together to cordon off the area and help those who had been caught in the blast.
Porthos grabbed Athos' attention, "Come on, we have to get to d'Artagnan."
"With what? We don't have the antidote and Claude says that's the only one he made." Athos was getting frustrated and the ringing in his ears was making his head hurt.
"Maybe, but we have his plans in the car, that could at least get the doctors somewhere!" Porthos pointed towards where they had parked the vehicle near the church. "Oh my god, the car!"
The pair pushed their way through the small crowd that had started forming until they reached the car.
What they had expected to see was crushed metal and broken glass. Maybe a small fire starting under the hood. At best.
But instead, there stood the car, fully intact. Well almost. There was a dent in the front hood and it looked like one of the back lights had been smashed, but by some miracle all other flying debris seemed to have completely missed it.
"How have we been this lucky?" Porthos was genuinely amazed at the sight in front of him.
"Lucky? Really?" Athos gestured to the destruction around them.
"You know what I mean!"
They both jumped into the car and after confirming that the plans were still sitting, intact, in the glove compartment, Athos put the car in gear and sped to the hospital.