Chapter Four

Les Roues Règlent dans le Mouvement

(Wheels Put in Motion)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters/items/other stuff from Hunchback of Notre Dame. They belong to Disney and Victor Hugo (I strongly recommend reading the original – Hugo is simply brilliant). I only use them for my own pleasure in writing, but I don't make a dime out of it, so please don't sue. All original characters are my own creation.

Author's Note: This is the fourth chapter of my Hunchback of Notre Dame fan fic. This was probably the most difficult to edit out of the past four chapters. Enjoy…

Jeta and Patrick made their way through the streets of Paris, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. As they had agreed upon in the inn, Jeta was dressed as a servant, wearing a simple blue cotton dress with a white pattern apron over it and a white bonnet tied under her chin, and Patrick was disguised as a peasant farmer from the countryside, complete with shabby denim pants and a dirty tan shirt. They had gone over the plan for the afternoon after returning to the safe house the previous night, finalizing every detail. Both were hoping that the meeting would go smoothly.

Arriving at the Palace of Justice, Patrick stated his reason for visiting the Minister and why his servant girl was with him. It only took a few short moments before they were ushered into the Minister's waiting room. One o'clock finally had come and a young boy invited them into the Minister's office. He told them where to sit and that the Minister would be with them shortly. Jeta quirked her eyebrow, a frown on her face, and Patrick just shook his head in response. He was aware that Jeta did not like to be kept waiting, but knew she would not blow her cover over the Minister being tardy. Instead, they settled themselves into the uncomfortable red leather high-back chairs in front of the Minister's desk and sat in silence, waiting for the judge to finally arrive.

Fifteen minutes had passed before the Minister of Justice showed himself.

Opening the door to his office, Claude Frollo was not surprised to see the two bounty hunters before him. He was, however, surprised by how perfectly they looked like a farmer and his servant. If it was not for the fact that he was expecting them, he would have quickly assumed that this was simply another problem in Paris. This only impressed the Minister and he allowed a slight smile to cross his features before he introduced himself properly to the others.

Reaching out a hand to the older man, whom Claude noted was definitely of Irish descent, he introduced himself and apologized for his lateness.

"Good afternoon. I doubt you do not know who I am but for the sake of formalities, I am Judge Claude Frollo. How do you do?"

Patrick shook the Minister's hand quickly, but with much strength behind it. The judge did not even offer a second's glance at the woman, quickly moving behind his desk and taking a seat. Jeta noticed this and made to protest, but closed her mouth when she saw a hand motion from Patrick. She should have known that the Minister would not treat her with any respect, but to blatantly refuse to acknowledge her presence was going a bit far. Biting her tongue, Jeta knew that small sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to be hired for the job that she had traveled so far for.

"I apologize for my tardiness," began Claude, his eyes still on the man. "I had a small, but urgent, problem that needed to be taken care of."

The Minister did not further elaborate.

" 'Tis quite alright," responded Patrick.

"Were you waiting long?"

"No. About fifteen minutes."

Claude nodded his head in apologetic way and sat himself down at his desk. He offered the two chocolate raspberry tarts and liquor-laced tea, neither of them accepting. The Minister had assumed they would, knowing how bounty hunters were prone to suspecting betrayal from anyone and everyone. Upon pouring himself a cup of tea, adding some cream and honey, he leaned back in his chair, ready to begin their meeting. Without further hesitation or stalling, Claude got straight to the point.

"My captain has informed me that you are willing to accept the offer I have made."

Jeta cleared her throat and sat forward, leaning her arms on her legs, her fingers once again preoccupying themselves by twiddling her knife. Claude, although now unable to ignore the woman's presence, forced himself not to comment on her lack of respect for him; these people, after all, were brutal and unrefined, barely human at all in his mind.

"Actually, your captain only mentioned that you were willing to hire us. Something about the gypsies, but nothing beyond that." She paused, waiting for a sign that the Minister even noticed her. He finally nodded. "We do not inquire about specifics until we meet with the actual employer. It would cause too much trouble with communications otherwise, if you understand what I mean."

"I see." Claude folded his hands together, still taken aback that the woman answered him. Surely the Irishman sitting in front of him would be able to rein her in and not allow her to speak unless spoken to. Perhaps such manners and etiquette did not apply to the lowlifes that he was forced to hire. "I am sure, then, that you would like to be filled in on why I desire to hire you."

"That is why we're here."

Jeta leaned back, a smile on her face, amused that the Minister had been affronted by her answering, the dagger now safely back in its sheath. She did not want to be a pushover during this meeting as she despised the Minister and knew he would do anything to lower her because of both her Romani heritage and that she was a female, but she was not the type to take it lying down. Asserting herself slightly would certainly offend the man, but even he had to admit to his own lowliness in resorting to such unholy means to meet his ends.

Claude cleared his throat and looked at the man, who raised a hand for silence when the Minister went to continue.

"Perhaps it would be wise if you would shut and lock your doors as well as draw the drapes. We do not want this conversation to be overheard."

The Minister made a movement as to reprimand the man sitting across from him for suggesting that he had not already made such preparations. However, to appease the two bounty hunters, the Minister drew the drapes and locked the one and only door to his office. These actions seemed to suffice the two as they relaxed a bit into their seats.

"My captain informed you correctly when he told you that this concerns the gypsies in Paris. They have, for the longest time, filled the streets of Paris with their filth, their witchcraft, tricking the minds of the fair citizens. For the past thirty-one years, I have been trying to rid Paris of the gypsy population, but have thus far, not succeeded."

Jeta smirked slightly. "Quite a large task for one man, don't you think?"

"Indeed," snarled the Minister, already having had enough of the woman's cheek. "But as my job as Minister of Justice, a task that must be completed regardless of the obstacles."

"Understandably so."

Jeta nodded her head, signaling that she was done interrupting the Minister and would allow him to continue uninterrupted.

"I have searched for their fabled hideaway, the Court of Miracles, but have had no success in finding it."

Jeta did not make any movement, as if the place that he had just mentioned meant nothing to her, and the Minister fixed his gaze on her, trying to see if she truly had no reaction. Instead of shifting in her seat in discomfort, as so many did when Claude decided to rest his eyes on them, she smiled and leaned forward the tiniest of bits.

"Is there something you would like to ask me, Minister?"

"There is, Miss…"

"No miss. Redima."

The Minister paused, obviously not amused. Jeta smiled pleasantly as if they were on the corner of the street discussing the weather over a cup of tea.

"Very well, Redima, I am curious to understand why you would take this job."

No longer seeing a need to beat around the bush about what exactly the Minister was talking about, Jeta sighed inwardly.

"I am sure you are well aware of my heritage."

"Indeed, how could one not be."

Jeta and Claude glared at one another before Patrick coughed and interrupted them. It took several more seconds before the two broke their eye contact and turned to the Irishman.

"I am just concerned about if you are able to complete this job or not," the Minister responded, an eyebrow quirked and obvious mistrust in his eyes.

"Trust me, monsieur, when I say that my blood will not get in the way of any assignment you might ask of me."

Claude nodded, still not satisfied, but willing to give the woman a chance. Besides, if she messed up, he could always have exterminated before she even walked out the door.

Jeta had relaxed into her seat and was now fingering the dagger at her ankle again, not particularly paying attention to anything. Patrick sighed, knowing that this was a sure sign that Jeta was agitated but trying to hide it, and continued the conversation with Minister Frollo, knowing nothing would be achieved if he did not step in. He could still not see why Jeta would want this particular job.

"Well, now that that has all been cleared up, we might get to the point of our meeting."

"Yes." Claude leaned back into his chair, lacing his fingers together and placing them delicately into his lap. He waited a few more moments before continuing. "I desire to hire you both for two assassinations. That of Bexhet Trouillefou and his son, Clopin." Here Patrick's eyes went wide for one second, before quickly hiding his reaction. If the Minister had noticed, he did not make a sign that he had. "Him and his band of miscreants dirty the streets of the pure Paris with their wages and dances and other such satanic items. But no longer. No longer will they roam freely in the streets. No longer will they flee to a yet located place. I will have order."

The Minister paused, reaching a shaking hand over to sip of his tea. He always became flustered when having to talk about the plague of gypsies they refused to leave his fair city alone. After calming down slightly, not a word having escaped the lips of the two assassins in front of him, he began again.

"I have thought long and hard upon this and came to the conclusion that without their beloved leader, the gypsies would be afraid of the power I wield. The gypsy king is the reason why the gypsies are so free and rebellious in the city. He rebels them. Tells them that no harm can befall them while he is around. He is a ringleader of a pack of thieves and vagabonds, nothing more, and it is about time that he realizes I am a force to be reckoned with. Unfortunately for him and his demonic spawn, however all the better for me, it is not enough to simply destroy the gypsy leader. I need to also dispose of his son, who is already quite troublesome without him becoming the leader of an outraged group of fools. With those two out of the picture, the gypsies will fear me, knowing they are no longer safe from the wrath of the guard, justice swiftly descending upon them, and they will leave the city of Paris or die."

Jeta and Patrick looked at each other, Patrick finally fully understanding the reason why Jeta wanted to accept the job and Jeta wanting to see Patrick's reaction to the two targets. It had been no secret to Patrick that Jeta had long despised the gypsies, particularly the tribe located in Paris, but she had never outwardly done anything to cause harm to them. For as long as he had known her, which was quite a number of years, Jeta had simply treated them with disrespect and ignored their presence. However, agreeing to this job would be placing her into the heart of the place that she loathed so very much. Patrick was afraid; would agreeing to this job mean he would lose the young woman he had raised since a small child to her resentment and revenge?

Needing to discuss all of this with Jeta before deciding to accept the proposition put forth by the Minister, Patrick stood up.

"A minute, Minister."

Claude nodded his head. Jeta stood up and walked to a far corner, away from the Minister. The Minister watched, slightly amused yet more so anxious, as the pair began to have a deep conversation. It was several long minutes as Claude watched the two, who were both trying very hard to not allow the Minister see that they were bickering. Having been an observant man since his youth, Claude could pick up their subtle body and facial expressions. The man, Claude then noted that the Irishman had never given him a name, was obviously upset and worried, making soothing hand gestures, his eyes crinkled in concern, lines clearly etched on his face. The woman, however, was laughing it off; her facial expression betrayed, however, that she was frustrated the older man's worry and her lack of patience was apparent in her lips which had gone quite thin. It was another ten minutes before the two moved back towards the Minister, sitting themselves back down in their respective chairs.

"I hope there is not a disagreement between the two of you," voiced the Minister, an air of smugness in the statement.

"No, Minister. There was just a slight misunderstanding, but all is well."

Patrick smiled and waited for the Minister of Justice to continue. Claude did so after studying the larger man, trying to find a hint of deceit. When he was certain that Patrick was not lying to him about any residual resentment between the pair, Claude continued.

"Your pay for such a task is five thousand francs a piece for the head of Bexhet Trouillefou as well as an addition five thousand for the termination of his eldest son, Clopin. Twenty thousand francs in total; not a bad deal, I might add."

Patrick let off a low whistle, impressed with how much the Judge was willing to pay for their services. With that amount of money, Jeta and Patrick could go quite a number of years without worrying about working. Jeta smiled at her partner, amused by his reaction. His logical reasoning behind not wanting to take the job could not overcome the fact that both were low on money and that this job would certainly provide them for quite a while. For Jeta, it was double the reward for her and she knew that Claude had just signed the deal, having played towards the greedy side of Patrick.

"I am assuming that this is a more than fair price and intrigues at least one of you."

"Indeed, monsieur," Jeta being the one to answer. The Minister was not surprised by this and was simply waiting for the other man to agree to the deal.

Jeta quirked an eyebrow, turning towards Patrick; she waited for his own response to the Minister's offer. The wheels were turning in Patrick's head – the francs would be very welcomed indeed – but he was still concerned about his partner. However, after looking at Jeta's face which was filled with a well hidden excitement and eagerness coupled with his own need to make some more money, Patrick smiled. Claude took this as a good sign and continued.

"I believe now is when I tell you how I want the two men…" Claude said the word men with such loathing and disgust, it was apparent that he thought of neither of the targets as anything more than a disgusting stain on his clothing, one that needed to be taken care of promptly. "…brought to justice, but I believe that you are both creative and professional enough to carry out my wishes in any way you see fit. I do not particularly care how it is done, but that it is done and they are both dead. Proof, obviously, would be required"

Patrick opened his mouth to make a suggestion when Jeta cut him off, excitement glimmering in her eyes.

"Would you be disinclined if we were to carry out a betrayal?"

Claude smiled sadistically at Jeta, very interested in her proposal. Patrick now did not even try to restrain himself from the surprise that shot through his body. He turned forcefully towards his partner, but did not utter a word when he noticed the glint in her eyes. Having only seen this glint once before on a particularly nasty assignment, Patrick, nonetheless, knew better than to stand in front of Jeta's way. Claude, however, was highly impressed by Jeta's suggestion. Although a gypsy and a woman, she appeared to harbor an animosity for the gypsy population and was as ruthless as he was, if not more. Claude nodded his head and waved his hand, urging her to explain herself further.

"Although what I suggest would certainly take a much longer time to complete your desired results, I believe it would be a much more… fulfilling… way to achieve your ends. For no additional charge, I am willing to act as a loyal gypsy, gain the trust of both the leader and his son, and then assassinate both of them. Their deaths will be extremely crippling blow to the Romani community, especially knowing that someone could penetrate their suspicious, highly secretive society and commit such an act. They will become uneasy and perhaps unruly for a time, but after such a blow, knowing that they can no longer trust even their own kind, they will be unable to come up with a strong leader to save them and eventually realize that their time in Paris has come to an end." Here, Jeta paused, gathering her thoughts and breath, her desire to commit such a terrible act in her eyes. The pause allowed for the Minister to take in all of her words. When she was certain that the Minister had heard her properly, Jeta continued. "If you were to agree to such a deal, it would add on a considerable amount of time before the actual assassinations would happen. It could be anywhere from a few short months to a year or two."

Claude smirked at Jeta, distorting the somewhat handsome features into a painting of horror and devilish imagery.

"I believe, Redima, that you and I have a deal."

Author's Note: This chapter was almost completely rewritten by the time I got done editing it. Of course, the main ideas and gist of dialogues were there, but I changed much of it to fit better with the characters as well as including much more detail.

Redima (Spanish): Redeem
Monsieur (French): Mister