"Come, Butler, we don't want to be late," Artemis said, sliding into the back of their rental car. "It wasn't easy convincing them to give us a tour, and we wouldn't want to miss our chance."
"One moment, Artemis," Butler said. "Juliet will be out in a moment."
"Juliet?" Artemis asked, surprise widening his eyes. "I hadn't planned—"
"I know you hadn't," Butler said. "But if this museum is half of what you said it was, your life could be in serious danger, and I don't want to take any chances."
"Very well," Artemis sighed. He knew there would be no arguing with the man on this matter—Artemis Fowl's life was Butler's highest priority, and Artemis knew it was because of Butler's rigid routines he was still alive.
Juliet came along as promised, sliding into the passenger seat beside Butler.
"This'll be fun," she smiled. Butler didn't reply, instead turning the key in the ignition and putting the car in reverse. This was no time for humor, and in fact, it rarely was.
In the back seat, Artemis sighed. It was to be a long drive from the hotel. All he could do was wait.
The Shroud landed with no more than a whisper on top of the Parisian safe house, allowing its passengers to disembark before silently disappearing into the sky once more.
"Come," Darkdoom said. "We don't know who is watching."
They ushered the students towards the door, but Nero paused, looking over the darkening skyline for a moment. An intuitive feeling came over him, giving him the feeling something was hiding behind the twilight, taunting him, waiting for him to turn his back and spring.
"Coming, Max?" Raven looked back.
"Yes," he replied, joining her at the door. She shot him an inquisitive look, but Nero remained impassive. He felt sure he was not imagining things, but until he had evidence he could hardly convince anyone of this. He followed the others to the table.
"I propose three teams," Raven said. "We'll cover more ground that way and we—" She gave meaningful looks to Nero and Darkdoom. "—will be able to keep an eye on things."
"I agree," Nero said. Darkdoom nodded his assent.
"We only have a rudimentary map," Darkdoom sighed, pulling a copy from his pocket and spreading it out for all to see. "But I think the divisions are pretty clear."
The map showed the entry hall facing the main attraction, the rest of the exhibits forming a U-shape around the back of the building. On the left side of the building a staircase led to the upstairs level, which was apparently its own separate exhibit.
"Here," Raven said, sliding her finger over the main entrance and exhibit. "I will take this—there will be more guards and alarms."
Nero nodded. "I'll take the surrounding exhibits," he said.
"Which leaves me to do the upstairs," Darkdoom finished. He looked closely at the drawing. "Although it looks like it will probably be protected by some extra security systems."
"Digital or analog?" Laura asked, glancing over at Shelby.
"Probably computerized, is my guess," Otto said, peering in.
"All yours, Brand," Shelby grinned.
"I would like to go with Raven," Wing said. No one objected—in fact, no one would have had it otherwise, least of all Raven.
"There will probably be plenty of various security systems here," Nero said, pointing to his chosen section. "Malpense, Trinity, are you up to it?"
"Definitely," Otto replied firmly.
Darkdoom glanced over at his son. "I'll take Nigel," he said, making sure to hide the urgency from his voice. Raven's eyes flashed toward him exasperatedly as she received the alternative.
"Do not be worrying," Franz said happily. "I have been saving the school on many occasions. It will be the piece of pie."
"Cake," Nigel corrected.
"Cake!" Franz exclaimed. "Where?" Nigel merely sighed and rolled his eyes.
It was dark in the underground cavern where the allies had chosen to meet. Their silhouettes were those of a dainty pixie and an aging man, their union clearly only for malicious intent.
"I do hope your client keeps his appointments," the man said. "It has taken months to prepare the museum."
"It is not my client but your band of Mud Men we will have to worry about," the fairy sneered. "Fowl is no ordinary boy."
The man was silent, knowing it would be useless to convince his contact of the truth: his enemies were not ordinary either. They were, in fact, extraordinary, and he wondered if the fairy's prejudice perhaps prevented her from seeing this. He very much doubted Nero and his daycare would be wiped out by this affair, but the technology he was being offered to dispose of the Fowl boy would give him an edge the next time he and Nero clashed swords.
"What do you intend to do with the bodies after they have destroyed one another?" the fairy asked.
"My dear, we are executives," the man said smoothly. "We need not concern ourselves with what happens to the garbage after we have thrown it out."
The fairy giggled. "I like you."
The man made no answer. "We will inform you of any developments," he said, then left. Neither of them knew it in the darkness, but determined, malicious smiles crossed their faces as they parted ways. Their enemies would destroy each other, and their victory would be fantastic.
"We've arrived," Butler said, pulling into a parking space in front of the museum. The sign out front read "SOUVENIRS DE TIGRE," but a "closed" sign hung in the window.
In the back seat, Artemis's eyes flicked open.
"Very well," he said. "We begin. Are you there, Foaly?"
"Not legally," the centaur muttered in his ear. "I am not to intervene under the harshest of penalties, only to make sure you properly retrieve the article we are interested in."
"Yes, yes," Artemis sighed. "Come. They are waiting."
Artemis pulled open the first set of door, unlocked, and waited for Butler and Juliet to join him before approaching the buzzer on the wall.
"I'll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too," he said clearly into the speaker.
"Access granted," the measured voice of a computer said. "Artemis Fowl and guests. Please proceed."
Artemis wandered in, nodding politely to the security guards at the front desks. It was by no means a palace, but he could appreciate the design for a facility requiring such closely guarded secrets. Silently, he walked to the main exhibit, where an extensive spread on a man named Pietor Furan was displayed. He had apparently once ran a school in Russia called "The Glasshouse" for some time.
"Have you heard of this man, Butler?" Artemis asked, looking up and down the life-sized cutout of the man.
Butler frowned. "Yes," he said. "There is a brother and a sister, and they are… formidable."
Artemis stared into Furan's blind, white eye.
"He certainly looks the part," he commented. "Although I would never have marked him out as a teacher."
"Trainer," Butler said. "The Glasshouse was not a school, but a facility designed to turn children into murderers. I have met one of his projects before. He does not teach them. He carves them into weapons, and I have never met more dangerous opponents."
Artemis nodded appreciatively. "I certainly hope we don't run into him any time soon."
Three teams landed softly on the roof of The Museum. Otto gently probed for any security devices that might be interested in jeopardizing their mission, and swiftly disabled any that looked at him in a funny way.
"Over here," he whispered, leading to the metal door at the end of the cement slab on which they stood. In single file they stepped inside, until they reached a large landing featuring two large, glass doors.
"We get off here," Darkdoom said, stepping forward and peeking in to see what might lurk inside the upstairs wing. "See you in a bit."
Nero nodded and guided the students forward to the ground floor. Casually, he tipped Shelby and Otto in the right direction, and they slid into the U-shaped hallway. Raven, meanwhile, carefully crept forward, sensing Wing and Franz on her tail and being careful to stay out of sight. She glanced to her side, noticing the main attraction. In big, blocky letters a name demanded her attention: "Pietor Furan."
Raven smiled to herself. His destruction would be her pleasure.
"I've seen enough," Artemis said. "Come Juliet, let's go look at the, ah, other exhibits."
"Okay." Juliet followed Artemis, and Butler took the caboose. The hairs on the back of the bodyguard's neck tingled, as if he could feel the eyes on his back. He glanced over his shoulder, just to make sure, but there was no one there. Even he, with all his years of experience, could not see the woman clothed in shadows staring straight at him.
"Let's go," he agreed. Something was wrong with this place. He couldn't describe what it was, but after a lifetime of training he wasn't about to ignore a hunch. "Let's grab the crown and get out of here."
"Act casual, Butler," Artemis instructed. "We can't have them suspecting something."
Butler did not reply, instead fingering his Sig Sauer and keeping a watchful eye. Something was not right. He could feel it.
"We'd better take care of those guards," Nero remarked quietly. Otto and Shelby exchanged glances.
"I thought you left that kind of thing up to Raven," Otto said.
"Oh, please," Nero sighed. "I think I'm allowed to have a little fun every once and a while."
From his immaculate suit (he had flat out refused to wear anything else) Nero pulled a small, silver cylinder. The students' eyes widened.
"I thought you said this was supposed to be non-lethal," Shelby frowned.
"It won't kill them," Nero assured her, a smug smile crossing his face. "But it will certainly cause mayhem…"
He pulled the pin and rolled the cylinder towards the main desk, where they guards eyed it suspiciously. They never would remember exactly what it did, as at once orange vapor burst from it and caused them all to slump into their chairs. Soon enough the vapor diffused across the room, and every guard in sight was snoring.
Otto and Shelby looked around, wondering if they were going to drop off as well.
"You can stop gaping," Nero said, turning towards the exhibits. "You've already been inoculated. Standard H.I.V.E. policy."
"But I thought this was new," Shelby said.
"No," Nero said. "It's a handy little gas, it causes victims to fall asleep at once and plagues them with nightmares for about an hour. Then they wake up. It's less reliable than sleepers, loud noises will wake them, but if we're quiet enough we won't have any problems. Enough chatter—do you both have your explosives?"
Shelby and Otto nodded, patting the tiny devices they had been given.
"Use them sparingly," Nero warned. "And let me know of any complications."
Shelby and Otto nodded, and crept down the halls, Otto being careful to disarm the electronic alarms within range.
Otto crept into the first exhibit, which displayed an extremely thorough description of typical tactical equipment. Normally Otto liked museums, but this only seemed troublesome. He didn't know what was going on or who was behind this, but something was certainly odd about this entire situation. No one in their right mind would reveal private tactical secrets to the public… unless they would not fall with G.L.O.V.E.
"Thank you, Ms. Brand," Darkdoom said. The last of their roadblocks dissolved and allowed them entrance into the upstairs wing. Darkdoom crept in, sleeper in his hands, and waved for the students to follow. They went forward, but abruptly stopped. For a moment the three stared, finding themselves in the very mess of a half-finished publication of Diabolus Darkdoom himself.
"Wow…" Nigel looked around. "This is… weird."
Darkdoom narrowed his eyes. "I would call it disturbing. Come on, let's finish this."
At once, the three dispersed, tearing down posters of Darkdoom's infamous exploits and tidbits about his life. Darkdoom took special pleasure in defacing the poster that gave an account regarding the dissipation of his marriage.
"Hey, give me a hand," Laura called, struggling with a mechanical model of an old toy of Darkdoom's: a car that could be driven on land, under water, or hover for a few minutes. Nigel helped tear it open, neither of the teens noticing when the sparks began to fly.