Chapter II

The Sakharine Manor

The group finally arrived to the Sakharine Manor. It was a little far from the airport. The inside of the mansion was reminiscent of a Renaissance and Neoclassical period. There were walls with different tones of red, ochre colours, and white. There were a few candles in the corners of it, a few reproductions of famous sculptures... oh, and some paintings, probably done by Donatello or Michelangelo.

-I feel in another period of time.- the Captain said as he watched the house, with a very surprised expression.

-It feels like it, don't you think?- Sakharine asked.- You can watch all my wife's collection of pieces considered sublime by the critics.-

-Is she around?- the Captain asked.

-Uh, no.- Anastasia replied.- She won't be coming soon. Mom's in her literature club discussing "Oedipus Rex".-

The Captain then shuddered upon hearing the name of the book.

Meanwhile, Tintin's attention was stolen by a few photos and paintings in the common room, where the group happened to be. He couldn't remember the last time he contemplated paintings done by the "Great Masters".

So soul touching! The lad exclaimed in his mind, lost between what he was feeling at seeing those masterpieces. Then, his attention was taken by a photo, probably taken recently, in some restaurant because of the table. It had a 40-something-year old man, with a dark, brownish-red hair, a pair of "British-like" glasses, and a goatee, with Sakharine's daughters, one in each side of him. Both females looked happy, while the male had a fainted-like smile and a serious expression.

-Mr. Sakharine, who is him?- the lad asked, pointing to the man in the photo.

Sakharine then approached and saw it.

-Oh.- he replied.- That man happens to be my son.-

Tintin then showed a weird expression.

-Yes, I know he looks in his forties, but he is actually 24.- the Russian added.- You see, Dmitri is my youngest child, and has this serious, psychological trauma about not showing any sign of aging.- He continued.- Because of that, he let his beard and moustache to grow and combed his hair in a fashion similar to a falcon. And that's how he looks now, using dark-red clothes, thinking that would make him look older.-

-And you still love him, right?-

-Of course I do. And it doesn't matter how "nuts" is he, Dmitri's still my son. And that changes nothing.-

Tintin then looked at a little sculpture of a falcon killing a snake-goat-like hybrid.

-This is an interesting sculpture.- Tintin said.

-It was made by my son.- the man replied with a friendly laugh.- You see, my eldest daughter, Bonnelyn, married a British lawyer about five months ago, and, the first time Dmitri saw him, he suddenly developed a grudge, and even called him an "interplanetary snake-goat".-

-So...-

-Yes, the falcon represents Dmitri's desire of getting rid of his brother-in-law.-

-And why does he hate him so much?-

-I'm not sure. But what am I sure is that his grudge will disappear soon.-

-How do you know that?-

-The remorse is a killer. And Dmitri knows that.-

Later, Tintin and the Captain went to the guests' room and installed there.

-Could you believe it, lad?- The Captain asked with a smile

-That we're staying in the Sakharine manor instead of paying a hotel? I think yes.-

-Yes, but not that, Tintin.- the Captain said.- We're miles away from she-who-must-not-be-named and company. My ears will be resting like they've never rested before.-

-Captain, you're exaggerating.- Tintin said

-The point is, she's far, far away from here and there's no way she can track us down.- said as he launched himself to the bed.- If you could excuse me, lad, I'm going to take a nap.-

-Okay.- Tintin replied.- Come on, Snowy! We need to see the place if there's something else to report here.- said as he was living the place.

-Golly, Tintin!- The dog said.- I want to stay with the Captain. I want to rest!- said as he followed his owner.

When they left, the lad recognized it was the perfect time to explore, to learn about Italy and its habits. This time, he felt he could be him instead of one of all his disguises, like some weird customer or epic gangster. Talking about it, Tintin admitted he missed the "Nameless", even when he said before he will no longer impersonate him, as the notice of his death was worldwide spread by the one who alerted the Aztec Hawks back in Mexico.

The lad then remembered Adolfo mentioning "messenger".

Who is, or was, it? How did it appear to know about them and their plan to foil the Mexican gangsters?

He had no idea of whom.

-You know, Snowy.- Tintin said to his dog.- I miss the "Nameless".-

-I don't.- the dog answered.- You looked like a moron with those clothes on.-

-I know you miss him too, my friend. But the truth is, if I still impersonate him, all the gangsters will hate me more than ever and then will want to "kill me because of sacrilege".-

-Tintin, seriously, get a dog translator so I can finally tell you stuff I think.- The dog said very annoyed.- I want to return to sleep. The Captain's bed looked so soft and comfy!-

While the lad and his dog were walking by, Allan Thompson was watching them from a coffee shop. He then went to the nearest phone cabin and marked a number.

-Don, it's me.- he said said.- They're here.-

-And you happen to know where are they staying at?- the voice of a not-so-old man replied

-Not sure. I will keep an eye on them.-

-Excellent. Keep me informed of everything.-

And then, he hanged the phone.

-This is not over, Tintin.- He said while watching them leaving some store.- Revenge is about to begin.- continued then with an evil grin.

Meanwhile, the lad and his dog were visiting the surroundings of Palermo. The lad was enjoying each second of breathing Italy, and suddenly remembered it was one of the few places he wanted to visit so badly. The accents, the food, the fashion, the language, and even the moments of silence of the place were full of joy.

He wanted to show a giant smile because he could not resist it. Some of the passers-by appeared to recognize the reporter, as he's that famous in Europe. They were not like the classic fanpeople "who like to suffocate their idols until they get scared enough to not to visit the place again". The habitants just looked them with a neutral expression, trying to control their inner thoughts and impulses. They were "real gentlemen".

An hour passed, and Snowy started to protest. All he wanted was to sleep in a soft, comfy bed. Tintin heard him, and recognized it was enough for today.

-Well, Snowy.- Tintin said as he took the dog in his arms.- I know you're tired. Why don't we go back to the Sakharine Manor?-

-At least you heard me!- Snowy said

-But first, let's go to that store. I need to buy you some food.-

-And you can read my mind too? Golly! You must have that sixth sense all my dog friends talk about.-

-I know you're impatient, little one.- Said as he heard Snowy's "barks".- Let's go before you force me to buy you a double portion.- he continued.

Allan, who happened to be following the reporter and his dog, left to where his boss was.

He went directly to a white-coloured house, near where Dmitri Sakharine lives.

It was a classical one, with white sculptures in each side of the front yard. The grass was in perfect conditions, and its colour was intense, full of life. There were also flowers, red ones, twenty-four in total.

Allan continued wondering why the hideout had to be one of his boss' old houses. Sure, it was not suspicious, but, in his perspective, it was ridiculous.

As soon as he ringed the doorbell, he fell onto a room.

At least he worried for my fall. Captain Haddock's ex-first mate said in his mind.

-I beg your pardon for that.- said the voice of the same old man, coming from the shadows of the room.

-There's nothing to worry, boss.- Allan replied, hiding his anger.- I know where that little brat and mutt are staying at.-

-Really? Where?-

-The Sakharine Manor.-

The old man let a weak, evil laugh.

-That gives us a lot of advantage.- the old man replied.

-What? How?- Allan asked very confused

-Every explanation on its time, my dear one. The part one of the plan has not ended yet. We still need some material, and useful ones.-

-What do you mean about that?-

-You see, when that little pest, excuse-of-a-man appeared in the map, my plans started to fell down. I sent the now deceased Rastapopolous to finish him. He failed. Then, I made a deal with this Colonel Sponz, nothing. Next, my original team, the Sons of Agora... you might remember them as the Circle of Paris... all dead. Then, those Aztec Hawks, who ended in a literal Hell. One by one my groups failed to do one simple thing: exterminate that flea.-

-And why didn't you do it by yourself? Just asking.-

-Because one does not simply leave the place of the head.- the man said as he finally left the shadows, revealing to be Gérémi Bonilla.- The body needs the brain to coordinate. If it lacks of one, there's no control, thus, everybody goes on their own ways.-

-I get it now, boss. I'll see you tomorrow.-

-Wait! There's one more thing.- Bonilla stopped him

-What is it?-

-I need you to help this man out.- He said as he handed a file to Allan.- All his information is in there, and all you need to do. If you happen to have problems on it, give me a call.-

-Thanks, boss.- and Allan left.

A/N: So sorry this chapter is short. But I hope it helps. I'm in my partials and I want to get a good sleep (and A+ or 100).

If there's something OOC, please tell me so I can fix it!

Please Review!