Playing the Game

Marius´ mind was numb. The carriage was rolling through the streets, the sounds of the horses hooves so loud, it was hurting his brain. But he barely took notice of it. All he felt was the shock, still so deep in his bones.

He could still see Cosette, running out of the door, the police man aiming his gun at her, and for a moment he´d seen Eponine again, covered in blood, after she´d taken the shot that had been meant for him. Just before the gate Cosette had stumbled, and for a heartbeat Marius had believed his life must end. If Cosette would die, while he was there, forced to watch, like he´d been forced to watch Ponine fade away, he would gladly take the next bullet from them.

And then the shot. And this scream. Oh God, his mind had screamed too. Louder than his voice. And oh dear Lord, when he´d seen the blood, he´d almost lost his mind.

Cosette had been on the ground, cowering just at the gate. A gate that had been locked, to keep the horses inside. Horses that were now in total headless panic. One of them racing through the garden, the other on the ground, rolling in the dirt, and its own blood. It was still screaming, in agony, its friend galloping round and round, helplessly. And Cosette. She was huddled into herself, at the gate, hands over her ears, against those cruel sounds of the dying horse.

Marius had seen the pain in her face, had seen that she was alive, and forgotten were the guns of those men, the danger that they could shoot him as well. Like they had almost shot Cosette. Like they had shot this poor animal.

He´d run to her, had fallen to his knees, taking her into his arms. She´d wept, against his shoulder, and in this moment, he didn´t care how much it hurt. He just couldn´t let go of her.

Behind him, the men were talking, things he didn´t care about. One of them ordered another to put the animal out of its misery, and eventually there was a second shot. Again a horse screamed, but this time it was the other one. As if the animal knew that its friend would be no more after this.

Everything after that was pure and utter silence. A silence that seemed to have crept into his heart, his mind, his entire soul. This was why he didn´t hear the hooves. This was why he didn´t care, where they would bring them. Cosette was alive. She was breathing, in his arms. And that was all that mattered, for now. Everything else would have to come. As long as he could hold her, knowing that she was still with him, Marius would let it be. Whatever they would do to them.

They would be together in the end. Neither of them would die alone. He swore this, by his heart, for her.

...

Gysbert knew something was wrong. That something about the events he´d witnessed was off. But when he saw Javert awake, his eyes on him, his first reaction was tension, expecting the man to pay back what he´d gotten from Valjean earlier, and most likely let out his anger on him, Gysbert.

But Javert did nothing. He only stared at him, frowning, as if he was not even sure who he was. Did he lose his memory, after that knock on the head? Could that be? Gysbert knew this hope was ridiculous. But still. Maybe.

"Vidocq." Valjean repeated, as if asking Javert where he had heard the name before.

And Javert answered his gaze, briefly, before turning his attention back to Gysbert. Finally he rose again, eyes never leaving Gysbert´s.

"What does he have to do with this?" he demanded to know.

Gysbert glanced at Valjean for a second, as Javert loomed over him again, but Valjean did not even attempt to stop him. "Did he return to his old habits after all?" Javert asked. "Committing crimes? Has he sunken that far to kill for money?"

And at this, at last, Valjean stepped forward. But the only thing he did to stop Javert, was laying a hand on the other man´s arm, way too light to have any kind of effect. His gaze was not even focused on Javert. How the hell did he intent to stop him with this?

But Javert did stop, instantly.

"You said you´re not my enemy." Valjean recalled, what Gysbert had told him earlier. "What does this Vidocq want then?"

The hostage looked from one of them to the other, and back again. Neither Javert nor Valjean seemed to be wary of the other man´s presence. All their attention was on him. Something that no man would do, after a fight like the one before. Except …

Gysbert laughed, when he finally understood.

"I must say, Valjean … that was one hell of an act." He watched them exchange a brief glance, and nodded, amused about his own blindness. "You´d be a good agent." he found. "You know how this game works."

"Answer the question." Javert demanded, his tone so much calmer now that before. God, how did he not see this, Gsybert wondered. He was in this business for so long now.

"They might have dismissed him from the force back then, because of his past, but Vidocq was never dismissed from his believes." he told them. "As less as you are, inspector. There are things going on that are bigger than official positions. And there are some men in this world who are determined to do the right thing, no matter what the risk."

Javert narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

But Valjean once again, made him stop with a simple motion of his hand. "Wait." he said. "Wait. I do remember now. I read about this man. In the papers. He … He was commanding a force of the police …"

"The Sureté." Javert told him the name, disparagingly. "A bunch of former criminals, made agents." The former inspector snorted. "As if."

Gysbert felt a stitch of hurt pride in his chest. "You may think of us what you want." he glared at the man standing before him. "But we kept up the fight, even after they fired us."

"Why?"

"Because it is the right thing to do. Because we know the meaning of the words duty and honor too."

he stared at this man, that thought of himself to be so much better, and for a moment he didn´t even realize how, Javert´s expression had changed, to something less arrogant. The former inspector suddenly seemed taken aback, and in this, he searched the gaze of Jean Valjean. For help? Gysbert didn´t know. But Valjean was right there. He didn´t say anything, but neither did Javert. It didn´t seem as if there was anything to say. Nothing that their gazes hadn´t already said.

"Where is he now?" Valjean asked at last, turning back to Gysbert. "Vidocq?"

But that was a question Gysbert couldn´t answer just like that.

"How much does he know of what is going on?" Valjean kept asking, and Gysbert glared.

"We know everything." he rasped. "You have no idea what you´ve gotten yourself into."

"Tell us." the ex convict demanded.

"I … I´m not allowed to." Gysbert met the disbelieving gaze of Javert and instantly tensed again. "It´s true." he insisted. "I just can´t … tell you everything. I don´t even know all the details. I´m not the best at remembering such details."

Once again Javert laughed, in this condescending way of his. "That´s a spy for you."

"I´m not a spy." Gysbert growled. "I´m a footman. An observer. And I´m really good at that."

"Not all that good I´d presume." Valjean mentioned, and Gsybert looked at him, pouting. All right, he hadn´t seen this coming. But seriously … was that necessary?

"If you want to know about the whole thing." he came back to the point. "You can´t ask me."

"Who do we have to ask, then?" Javert demanded, once again leaving Gysbert no choice, but to go even one more step further. Over the edge at last.

"You have to talk to Vidocq." he sighed. There. He said it. "He can tell you."

"No." Valjean instantly said, to Javert. "That´s a trick."

But Javert was confident. "How could it be?" he asked. "They don´t know that we´re coming."

His gaze met Gysbert again, and when he took the knife this time, he used it to cut his ropes.

"All right." he spoke, dragging him up. "Lead us to your boss. But remember. If that should be a trap … you´ll be the first one to fall."

Gysbert looked at Valjean, but this time he didn´t find any help there. Only a face that seemed to say: You heard him.

...

It was an old castle, they brought them to. Like in the fairytales her Papa had used to read to her. Cosette almost expected a robed man, all in black, to appear in the door, looking down on them with cold eyes. The magician that captured the maiden, to force her to marry him.

Only she was not the reason why they were here. She was only a burden, on Marius´ side. He was the one they wanted. And the reason for that got revealed to them, when they led them into a cell, down in the dungeon.

There he was. The baron. Marius´ grandfather. Bound to a chair that looked more like a torture instrument than a piece of furniture. Cosette could see blood on the old man´s head, under his nose, in his beard. And bruises. Bruises everywhere.

"Grandfather!" Marius cried, his hands around Cosette tensing, and she knew that if it hadn´t been for her, he would have run to his grandfather right away. But so he didn´t. He stayed with her, to protect her from these men, while for real it was obvious that it wasn´t her who needed protection.

"What have you done to him?" she asked, and her voice was so broken, it almost sounded like a sob. No, she couldn´t cry. Not here.

"I swear to you." Marius was fuming. "You will pay for this."

The officer that had greeted them in this place, only looked at them, with those cold eyes of his, his totally uptight posture never changing.

"Bind them." he ordered, his voice as impersonal as if he´d ordered to fix a wheel on a cab.

Marius was fighting, when they dragged him away from Cosette, but in the end he had no chance against them. Cosette didn´t struggle. Not really. Her arms were weak, against those men, and the ropes they bound her with, were hard, and tight.

The eyes of the old man were weak, only half awake, but Cosette could see the fear in them. Not fear for his own life, but for them. For Marius. The baron looked at their abductor, pleadingly, but this man in the black uniform only looked down on him, with a gaze of stone.

"Now?" he asked. "Will you be a little more cooperating now?"

"Please." the baron begged. "Don´t … Don´t hurt them."

"I won´t." the other man promised. "If you don´t make me."

"Whatever you do to us, you will not get away with this." Marius shouted, fighting against his ropes.

The officer before them only rolled his eyes, not even looking at him. "Silence him." he ordered, as bored as he had ordered to bind them, and for a moment there was pure panic in the baron´s face. Until the man that stepped up behind Marius had finished gagging him. Whatever worse treatment the baron might have expected, now he relaxed again.

Marius was fuming, muffling cries of anger sounding from behind the gag in his mouth, and Cosette begged him in silence to be reasonable. To not give them any reason to hurt him.

"Please." the baron said again. "They´re only children."

"It is in your hands." the cruel man told him. "You know what we want from you."

And at this the baron seemed to remember some of his own anger. He tore on his ropes, only for a moment. "God dammit, Bourguignon."

"God won´t help you." was the unimpressed response, and Bourguignon straightened. "No one will."

He waved a hand, and one of his men opened the door, as if he´d only waited for this signal. Two men carried a frame inside, a man lying on it, obviously wounded. And for a moment Cosette expected to see the face of her father, under this bloody forehead. But the pale face was not her father´s.

"Henry!" the baron exclaimed, his voice barely a whisper, and the way he sank into himself at the sight, Cosette knew that the man on the stretcher was not wounded, not sleeping. He was dead. Oh God.

"You … bastards." the baron hissed through gritted teeth.

"I´m showing this to you, so you will understand the graveness of your situation." Bourguignon said, glancing at them all for a moment, before turning his full attention back to the baron. "This man has been my friend. And I regret his death."

"You son of a bitch." the baron cried. "You killed him. You."

"I did." Bourguignon admitted without any shame in his voice. "Because it was necessary. I ordered the death of my friend. And I will order your deaths. If it should be necessary. But I´m willing to give you a chance." He looked the baron straight in the eyes, and the old man paled even more. "I hope you understand now." Bourguignon said. "I will give you some time to think about this. One last time. But when I come to see you again, I want an answer. And it better be the right answer."

With that he waved for his men again, and the stretcher got carried out. Their ropes were loosened again, with cold efficiency and when the guards led them away, Cosette barely felt Marius´ arms around her.

...

Javert took his knife, as soon as Gysbert pointed out the house in question. Whoever might open, would probably not be happy to see them, and if they should be armed, he would have the element of surprise. Gysbert only noticed the weapon when he´d already knocked, and paled instantly.

"No." he cried. "Don´t."

Javert did not intent to be yielded by this criminal´s pleading though. He skillfully ignored him, preparing for whatever fight he might have to face. The door was opened, and he stared into the face of a woman. Mid forty, admittedly nice with long dark blonde hair and strong blue eyes. Javert quickly lowered his knife, hiding it under his coat. What the hell?

"Gysbert." she cried, looking at Javert and Valjean with deep worry. She hadn´t seen the knife. "What´s the matter?" she asked alarmed, stepping aside, urging them to: "Come in. What happened? Who are your friends?"

"They´re not friends." Gysbert blurred, not even trying to pretend, and Javert had to restrain himself from using his knife after all. Could a man be even more obnoxious in his idiocy? And then, from one moment to the other there was the sound of a gun getting cocked. Javert turned, and faced the muzzle of a pistol, aiming at them, from the other end of the room.

The man holding it was small, thickset, and wouldn´t have looked dangerous at all, had Javert seen him in the street among other people. The woman instantly skipped back, out of the line of fire, in case the wielder of this gun should decide to use it. And all Javert´s attention was on this ridiculously small man, that seemingly had their lives in his hand. Tiny brown eyes smirked at them, from beneath a curtain of uncombed dark curls, as if amused about this unexpected visitors to his strangely noble home.

"I see you took your mission a little too much to heart, Gys." he spoke. "I said keep an eye on them. Not keep them around your eyes at all times."

Javert threw a side glance at his hostage, and Gysbert looked embarrassed about the remark. "They caught me." he told and his boss nodded.

"I figured."

"They asked questions I couldn´t answer." Gysbert went into defensive mode. "They tortured me."

Javert rolled his eyes at the whining tone. "Man up. I barely touched you."

The man ignored him, more or less successful. "I had no choice but to bring them here." he told his boss. And even though he hadn´t introduced himself to them, formally, Javert just knew that this was him. The famous Vidocq himself. What a joke. He looked like a book keeper. Not a spy. Except for the gun he aimed at them. And this slight glimmer of intelligence and experience, when he regarded them, estimating the situation.

"Let him go, inspector." he demanded, but of course Javert could not simply comply.

He finally took the knife, and grabbed Gysbert, too sudden for the hostage to avoid it. When the blade touched his throat, the man tensed, but so did Vidocq.

"Lower the gun." Javert demanded of his own. And that was the moment when they heard the second click, coming from behind them this time.

Valjean gasped, startled, at the sight of the woman, aiming a gun at Javert. And Javert had to agree. He´d seen men do such things, but never a woman. Her gaze was so cold and uncompromising, that he indeed hesitated in his action. He could bring the hostage between her and him, but then he would give Vidocq the chance to shoot him. On the other hand, if he …

And this was the moment, when the woman changed her mind, turning the situation once again. Instead of aiming at Javert, she moved her arm, and aimed at Valjean instead. There was no change whatsoever in her face, as she did this. But Valjean … he flinched, paling like a fish. And once again Javert could only agree.

He met his eyes for a moment, each of them asking the other: was this really happening?

"Now we both have a hostage." Vidocq remarked. "What a dilemma." he cocked a brow, as if none of this was reason to get agitated. Only one more day in the house of a criminal.

Javert glanced at Valjean, only for a second. "You really think his life means anything to me?" he asked Vidocq, keeping up the pressure on Gysbert´s throat and he could feel Valjean´s face change to an expression of: Really? You play dare now?

Javert knew that this was written all over the old con´s face, and he didn´t even have to look at him. His eyes were on Vidocq. But what he saw there was not much encouraging either.

"To be honest, I did." the criminal-made-police-spy answered his daring question. "Wouldn´t it be better to leave the threats out of it and just have a civilized talk?" he suggested.

But all Javert was ready to give him, was a glare. "The only civilized talks I had with people lately was when I had them strapped to a chair. I won´t trust you farther than I can throw you."

"Fair enough." Vidocq shrugged, and finally lowered his gun. "I guess Gys wouldn´t have brought you here if he´d been convinced that you´d be a real threat to us."

Javert relaxed, instinctively at the sight of the lowered gun. Still he couldn´t help but feel insulted, just a slight bit, at the word "real". His eyes met Valjean´s again, still tensed, aware of the second gun that still aimed at his head.

"Honestly." Vidocq told him. "I don´t want to harm any of you. It would be nice if this feeling would be mutual."

Dear God. Javert felt like groaning from the mental torture alone. Had this guy always been so sententious? Or had he started with that, after he´d changed sides?

Eventually he lowered his knife, and Gysbert wriggled himself out of his grip. Javert didn´t try to hold him back. After his hostage was free and safe enough from him, the woman lowered her gun. And Valjean finally exhaled the breath he´d been holding until now. Javert did his best to answer his rebuking gaze with a stoic one of his own.

"Well." Vidocq spoke, shrugging. "That´s much better, isn´t it? Maybe we all should sit down and have some tea. It could help us all to calm down. Would you be so kind, Fleuride?"

The woman didn´t respond. Her gaze was still hard, as she regarded Javert and Valjean. As if she was trying to decide if she didn´t want to rather shoot them anyway. But then she nodded, reluctantly, and left for the kitchen.

"Don´t take it personal." Vidocq told them, in a light tone. "She´s a sweetheart when you know her."

Javert stared at the man, refusing to be drawn into this smalltalk. "Vidocq." he growled the name with all the distrust and repulsion he could muster. "I always knew that letting a criminal do police work was a bad idea."

"Is that so different from what you are doing?" Vidocq gestured at Valjean. "Nice to meet you again, by the way." he greeted the man.

Valjean frowned, still visibly trying to remember him. And Vidocq smiled. "I know." he said. "It´s been a long time. And we both changed since then. We never spoke, so don´t beat up your brain for not recalling me."

Javert watched Valjean´s reaction closely. The ex convict was still not certain of anything.

"You recall me." he replied to Vidocq´s words, making the small man chuckle.

"It was hard not to notice you. A man as strong and … hard as you were." he shook his head. "I´d barely seen anyone with such a hollow and yet so burning gaze." he recalled, and something inside Javert remembered too. Remembered the man he´d known all those years ago. A man he´d considered scum and nothing more. An animal in human form. Something that could never have a future.

"Good to know that you made it out of that hole." Vidocq spoke, to Valjean.

And somehow, Javert didn´t know how, he knew that Vidocq was not talking about the prison in Toulon. Judging by Valjean´s gaze, he knew that too.

"So did you." he answered to Vidocq´s words.

And this time Javert´s reaction was totally unintended. Still it came. He snorted, almost amused in his aversion.

"By running." he remarked, and threw a glance at Valjean. "He was better at that than you."

Vidocq only laughed. "I had practice." he said, as if he had to make Valjean feel better about his failure back then. "And I had help. But you didn´t come here to exchange stories of the old days, did you?"

"I want to know why people are trying to kill me." Javert gladly came back to the point. "And I want to know where Lecomte is. And who else is with him on this."

"A lot of questions." Vidocq nodded. "Just like it is expected of an inspector." He gave Javert a smile, motioning to a door, invitingly. "Let´s sit down."

"I´m not going anywhere with you."

"So you´d rather have the tea standing?"

"Javert." Valjean´s voice startled him for a moment, but the tone was so gentle that Javert could not fight this strange effect it had on him. This gaze was just too fatherly, in the way it seemed to say: Let´s be reasonable, all right? Just for now. Before we shoot our way through to the answers that we want.

And goddammit, Javert hated the fact that he was right. They´d come here to talk, to ask their questions So why not go straight ahead and do just that?