THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY OPERA

By Andamogirl

WWW

ACT FOUR

Two weeks later

The White House

President Grant, wearing a black mask, hit his glass of Champagne with a spoon and said, "Ladies and gentlemen, May I have your attention, please."

Everyone in the vast ballroom froze and became progressively silent.

Grant smiled and added, "I have a surprise for you tonight! A musical entertainment." He gestured towards the masked man standing beside him. "Please."

Disguised as a masked and (phony) mustachioed musketeer wearing a long dark curly wig, Artemus Gordon sat at the piano. He lowered his head and placed his fingers on the keyboard, not doing anything for one minute, concentrating.

President Grant and Julia his wife took places on a sofa next to the pianist and the instrument. People in the vast ballroom silently gathered all around.

Eyes closed Artie smiled. He wouldn't play one piece or two as Grant thought, he would give a mini-concert. The President would be surprised and very pleased.

Artemus Gordon started to play. Eyes still closed, focused on the music and enjoying each second of it, Artemus played five pieces, his favorites: Gordon played Chopin: Nocturne in E-flat major, Op. 9, No. 2; Franz Liszt: Liebestraum – love's dream; Beethoven: Sonata al chiaro di luna – Moonlight sonata; Franz Liszt (again): Hungarian Rhapsody n° 2. And he ended his mini concert with Ludwig Beethoven: Für Elise.

People in the vast room listened to the music religiously – in total silence, with total awe. It's was absolutely wonderful.

Opening his eyes, Artie noticed that his cheeks were wet with tears. He wasn't surprised. Each time he had played those pieces he had cried. They were so beautiful.

He stood, bowed and accepted the glass of Champagne that Grant held out. He took a sip. "Thank you Mr. President," he said.

Grant smiled. "No, thank you Sir, that was wonderful." Julia, crying, nodded. "You play marvelously well, Monsieur le Mousquetaire."

Then everyone in the room applauded – and it lasted five minutes.

Bowing again, Artie said, "Thank you," then he swallowed his Champagne, gave the empty glass to a servant and headed towards Jim standing between two lovely ladies wearing XVII" century gold and blue dresses, one on each arm: twins!

But he was intercepted on his way by a blond woman wearing a middle-aged princess costume and a red-feathered boa. He immediately recognized her. "Bessie!" He beamed. "What a wonderful surprise!"

She kissed his cheek. "The President invited me! Oh Caruso! That music, it was so beautiful I cried – I mean Artemus." She took his arm and glanced around her at all the women who, entranced by the music - and more by the masked player - wanted to get acquainted with Artemus.

Shooting an icy glare at each of them, Bessie, possessive, groaned, "He's taken!" And, tangling her fingers languidly in Artie's thick black-haired wig, she gave him a devouring and long possessive kiss, leaving Artemus breathless.

Surprised at first, Artie then kissed her back – quickly, almost chastely, blushing. "Bessie, love… perhaps we could do that later, elsewhere, not in front of everyone."

But it didn't stop a red-haired woman wearing a Spanish costume with a plunging décolleté (complete with a fan) to move on Artemus like a falcon on its prey.

She placed her hand on Artie's arm, a sly and flirtatious smile on her face, and she cooed, "It was absolutely marvelous Mr. Musketeer…" She took his hand in hers, observing his long fingers and said, "You have such wonderful hands… My name is Chiara." Then she kissed Artie's cheek and then his neck.

Embarrassed Artemus blushed and smiled. "Thank you…" He said.

Bessie glared at the other woman. "In case you haven't heard, Caruso, I mean Artemus is taken," she repeated and added, "he's mine."

Raising a hand in a peace gesture, Artie said, "Please ladies…" And frowned when he found himself face to face with – apparently - the jealous husband. "Sir, I didn't do anything… "

The man, dressed like a bearded pirate, pulled out the sword from his large colored belt, and frowning with anger he said, "I saw you, Sir. You were flirting with my wife!"

Artie shook his head. "I don't want to be indelicate, but actually, it was your wife who kissed me, Sir. It is she who is flirting with me and not me flirting with her."

Frowning angrily the pirate growled, "You have just insulted my wife, "En garde Monsieur!"

Musketeer-Artie didn't move. "Sir, nothing happened. I'm not interested in the lady – your lady," he explained, as he had two women at his side. "And this is not the place to have a swordfight. The President is looking at us, Sir. Please, lower your sword."

Costumed as a matador, Jim took a step forward and looking at the pretend pirate, said, "If I were you I would do that, Sir. My friend here is very good with a sword, and as it's a real one, you could end up in hospital, wounded."

Rolling his eyes Artie said, "You're not helping, Jim. And it's a rapier – musketeers had rapiers, with good solid and sharp blades."

The pretend pirate smiled. "I'm pretty good too, and my sword is a real one. Let's see who's better and who is going to end in hospital." He said.

Crossing his arms on his chest, Artemus shook his head. "I'm not going to swordfight with you, Sir. Put your sword back where it was." He sighed as his opponent's blade came crashing against his own. He pushed the other man's sword away. "Sir, don't! Please."

The red-haired woman took a step back and joined her husband. "He doesn't want to fight! Give him a lesson, Harry. He's a coward!" and she regretted her kisses.

Bessie Bowden sent a black look at the other woman. "He's no coward! He's brave! He's the one who's going to give a lesson to your man - Blackbeard!"

Blackbeard leapt forward. Artie easily blocked the swing of the other man's sword and sidestepped Harry's second thrust, blocking his following slash with his sword sweeping the enemy blade downward into a prone position, and as his opponent teetered forward, he stepped in and sharply hit him in the gut with his knee. Harry moved back, bent over wheezing.

Grant moved towards the two swordfighters. "That's enough gentlemen, "he said.

Nodding Artie lowered and sheathed his sword. "Yes, Sir."

But Blackbeard didn't want to stop. He attacked Artemus, who in a split second pulled out his sword and leapt back. He glanced at Grant. "I'm sorry, Sir, but that gentleman doesn't want to stop. May I have your authorization to force him to yield, Sir?"

The President nodded. "Granted." Then he took a couple of steps back.

Blackbeard lunged toward his opponent. Artemus immediately arched his body backward to avoid a quick thrust from the other man – and let out a groan, feeling his recent injury ache. It had healed nicely, but his side was still fragile, he realized. He skillfully parried a combination attack from his adversary, and then conducted an attack of his own. Their swords clashed.

Blackbeard attacked, but Artie expected his every move and cleverly dodged every strike. He laughed off each failure. "You won't win, Sir."

He attacked, but Blackbeard managed to block two swings before Artemus poked his stomach with the tip of his sword. "Yield, now."

Enraged, the pretend-pirate continued with a few powerful swings, all of which the pretend musketeer blocked with ease.

Blackbeard attacked again, faster, stronger. Artemus fought, ducked, parried and blocked each of the other man's moves. Then he took the offensive, slashing and pushing. He launched into a series of thrusts and lunges that overwhelmed his adversary. The swordfight was short but intense, ending with Blackbeard the pirate flat on his back, sword pointed at his throat.

His face cold and calm, Artemus pressed a little more and a drop of blood beaded on the skin. "Do you yield?" He asked.

Harry nodded, admitting defeat. "I yield."

Smiling in victory, taking a step back, Artemus saluted, then he sheathed his sword. Then under new applause he joined Jim and Bessie.

Patting his partner's shoulder with admiration Jim smiled. "Good job Artie!"

Bessie Bowen wrapped her arms around Artie's waist and kissed him again. "You were formidable! That man didn't stand a chance against you."

Pulling the blond woman into his arms, Artie playfully kissed the tip of her nose. "Thank you." And he kissed her back. "What about a cup of Champagne – but somewhere else? I'm going to call a cab."

She smiled. "Good idea."

Artie smiled too. "Let's say goodnight to the President and Mrs. Grant, first."

WWW

Much later that night

Washington railroad yard depot

Once Bessie and he had both left the cab, Artemus untied his horse from the rear part of the vehicle and gestured towards the train. "End of our promenade, my dear. This is it!" he said to Bessie. Then he patted the chestnut gelding's head. "Time to go home, big boy."

Holding Artie's free hand, Bessie looked at the Wanderer, amazed. "You live in a train! I didn't know that you were rich!"

Shaking his head Artemus said, "I'm not. I don't own that train, it belongs to the Government, but I consider it as my home. It has a name, the Wanderer – because my partner and I are wandering a lot throughout the whole country in it. I share it with Jim West, my partner: you met him earlier at the ball, but he won't come back before morning."

Miss Bowen was surprised. "You don't have a real home?"

Leading his date towards the rear platform of the Wanderer, Artie shook his head. "Like a house? No, perhaps after I retire, if I can retire someday. With my kind of profession, I could end up very dead with a bullet in my chest before I get a single gray hair. But it's okay, I accepted it a long time ago. It's part of the job. I never had any real home before the Wanderer. I left my mom's home when I was seventeen, and I have traveled a lot since then. I lived in cheap hotel rooms or in cargo holds on showboats. I've slept in livery stables between horses, or beneath the sky on a bedroll, or under tents during the war, and I've spent quite some time in hospital rooms too. I had almost no belongings before I put my bags on board. Now I have everything I need, it's like a home on tracks, and I even a laboratory for myself. I will show you it later…"

Bessie smiled and kissed her cavalier's cheek playfully, her eyes twinkling, playing with her feathered boa. "And the rest of the train too, I hope..."

Smiling, Artie removed his wig and phony mustache, and put them in the saddle-bag. "With pleasure."

They both crossed the platform when two men holding guns intercepted them, coming out from behind crates and boxes.

Spotting a pole with a ring, Artemus tied the reins of his horse there and calmly unsheathed the rapier he still had at his side.

He took a defensive position protecting Bessie with his own body. "Stay behind me," he said to her and she did just that. He suddenly saw a tall shadow in the corner of his eye and whirled.

He yelped when Voltaire closed a hand around his wrist to disarm him – breaking it at the same time. Grimacing in pain he dropped his rapier to the ground.

Frightened Bessie wrapped herself around Artie's back, trembling.

Dr. Miguelito Loveless appeared, walking between the two armed henchmen. "Ah! It's a pleasure to see you again Mr. Gordon. And you too, Miss Bowen."

Holding his broken wrist against his stomach, Artie glared at the diminutive man. "What do you want? End the unfinished job?" He hissed through clenched teeth.

Loveless grinned. "Ah! It's such a pleasure to discourse with intelligent people. Yes, Mr. Gordon. I was going to have you killed when I was unpleasantly interrupted by your partner and those policemen." He snapped his fingers and then pointed a finger downwards. "Nice costume by the way. I hope that you enjoyed your * last * bal costumé Monsieur le Mousquetaire. I never leave a job unfinished. Voltaire!"

The giant immediately pushed Bessie to the side as though she were a mere fly. She crashed against a crate, hard, half-opening it in the process. The young woman hit her head against solid wood, and collapsed to the ground, passed out.

Then pressing his very large hand on Artie's head, Voltaire forced the other man to kneel down on the ground. Artie couldn't resist.

Once Artemus Gordon was on his knees, Voltaire kept him like that, his powerful fingers applying strong pressure on the other man's skull.

Miguelito Loveless moved closer to Artie, rubbing his hands with glee, appreciating Artemus's grimace of intense pain. "It's too bad I don't have a firing squad with me. But I'll take great pleasure to see my men put a bullet in your head anyway, Mr. Gordon. I don't like pesky federal agents interfering with my schemes. It will be an execution too."

He nodded and the two goons moved towards Artemus. They took places either side of Artie, put the mouths of their guns on the other man's temples, and then moved to the side in order not to be hit but their own bullet. Smiling, they cocked the hammers back.

Prudent, Voltaire moved back a little – still crushing Artie's head.

Loveless raised Artie's chin. "One last thing to say perhaps?"

Tears of pain rolling down his face, Artie shot a black look to the other man. "I thought that you wanted to kill me in an artistic way?" he rasped.

Loveless nodded. "You're right, that's true. But I changed my mind. The scientist-me took over from the aesthetic-me and I wanted to know if the reputedly indestructible Artemus Gordon, who survived after being shot and stabbed so many times - is really indestructible. I love scientific experiments so I wanted to see if you would to be able to survive with a blown up head. I think not."

Shooting an icy look at the other man, Artie groaned, "Kill me, and Jim West is going to make you pay for this, personally. It will be a very slow and very painful death."

Loveless grinned. "Your threat doesn't scare me Mr. Gordon. Your partner will be next and dead people can't harm." He nodded and moved back. "Gentlemen. Stand ready."

Fearless, strong and courageous, Artemus Gordon looked Miguelito Loveless right in the eye. He was silent but his look spoke volumes.

Loveless smirked. "Your hate for me will vanish when your brain explodes, Mr. Gordon. I don't care. I will say goodbye to Mr. West for you, before he dies too." He looked around him. The place was totally deserted. "Your partner won't save you this time."

He suddenly jumped and moved back hurriedly as dozens of fireworks landed at his feet. Others rained all around him. "What the…"

Surprised, Miguelito Loveless looked to his left and saw Bessie Bowen – holding a petrol lamp, lit. He blanched and said "No!"

Bessie Bowen's heart hammered in her chest when she sent the petrol lamp flying through the air. "Bad, bad little man!" She said.

WWW

Seeing fireworks coming from the railroad yard where the Wanderer was stationed, Jim West immediately knew that something was wrong. He dismounted quickly, un-holstered his gun and ran there at top speed to discover Bessie Bowen sitting on the ground next to a pile of crates, holding his partner in her lap.

She was crying.

His blood turning cold in his veins with dread, Jim crouched beside Artie, half-lying on the ground. He touched his arm and noticed that his companion was grimacing in pain – thus was still alive. He let out a sigh of relief and asked, "Artie! You okay buddy?"

Mumbling something that sounded like "do I look okay to you?" The other man groggily opened his eyes. "Oh boy! Bad, gigantic headache…"

Looking at the blond woman, Jim placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. "He's okay, he's okay. What happened here?"

Bessie wiped her tears with her sleeve. "That evil little man, Dr. Loveless. He wanted to kill Artemus! I threw fireworks at him and then a lamp. There was a big explosion as the fireworks exploded and they all left. I managed to bring Artemus here, a safe place. He wasn't injured but… that giant man held his head and he was hurt. I was so scared, I don't want him to die…his horse was scared too and it's gone."

Jim was sincerely impressed. "You were very courageous Miss Bowen. You saved Artemus's life." He shook Artie's hand. "He's not going to die. Can you stand buddy?" Closing his eyes again, Artemus went limp, passed out. "I think not."

Tbc.