Chapter 6
Marie was making coffee, and Illya was scanning the small street map enclosed in the tour guide he had.
He carefully circled the area that Marie was to take Napoleon. When she came into the living room with two steaming cups, Illya asked her,
"Show me where I can enter catacombs and be able to wait for Cowboy. When Pinet comes in, I can surprise him."
Marie showed Illya an entryway.
"Enter here, go to the first right turn, then left. There is a wall, and to the right will be the area I am to tell Napoleon is the gold behind a partially excavated wall."
Illya nodded. Her phone rang. It was Napoleon.
"I will be back to your house in the morning."
"All right. Thank you, Napoleon. No, I'm fine. You? Good...Yes, he's still here..." She handed the phone to Illya. He listened for a moment.
"Yes I will." Was all he said, and then hung up.
"I am staying here tonight...You can get some rest..."
Marie smiled, and then sat on her couch.
"I don't think I can sleep..."
"Just relax. I am going to check outside..."
Illya was gone no more than 15 minutes, and when he returned, Marie had fallen asleep. He took the comforter from behind the couch, and gently covered her; then he sat on the chair, shut the light, and waited for morning.
Back at his hotel room, Napoleon was preparing his weapons. He had a small gun strapped to his ankle, and a larger one in a holster attached to his belt in the back.
During the night, Marie heard Illya talking quietly on the phone. She was too groggy to understand what he said, and quickly fell back asleep. When she woke up, it was daylight. Looking around, she thought she was alone; then she heard the water in the kitchen. She got up and found Napoleon had made a fresh pot of coffee. He smiled widely.
"Bonjour!"
"Bonjour to you, too...why so cheerful?"
He handed her a cup. She took a sip and sighed.
"Marie, I know you will be very angry with me when I tell you this...drink..." He pushed the cup to her lips, she drank.
"What is it?" She sputtered when he forced her to take another sip. Suddenly she realized that last mouthful tasted bitter. She stared into his eyes.
"What did you give me? What is going on?" She felt a little lightheaded.
"I put some sleeping powder in the coffee."
"WHAT?! Whatever for? I need to take you to th..." She slurred. He had to talk quick.
"I cannot let you lead me to whatever lies ahead. I don't want you to blame yourself for whatever happens..."
"No...No...Napoleon, my son! Denise...what will happen to them?" She cried, tried to get up, but couldn't.
"Listen to me. Do you trust me?"
She reverted back to her native French...
"Mais bien sûr. Je vous ai toujours fait confiance." (But of course, I always trusted you)
"Then trust me now. Your son and Denise will be safe. You will be safe...Marie? Do you understand?"
She nodded. He picked her up and took her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed. She whispered seductively
"Soyez sûr Mon amour. Vous étiez toujours Mon premier amour." (Be safe my love. You were always my first love). He smiled, and then brushed her hair from her face as she fell asleep. He kissed her forehead, then left the apartment and headed for the catacombs.
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Hans Schmit sitting in his car watching the apartment building suddenly frowned when he saw Napoleon leaving alone. Where was the woman?! He waited a few minutes, then quickly left the car and ran to the corner phone booth. He quickly put in the coins and waited for the dial tone. Just as he began to dial, a large hand pushed down the receiver. Hans Schmit turned to see a very tall, scowling individual.
"What do you think you are doing? Wait your turn!" He scolded. Illya did not move his hand. Instead, he took the back of Schmits coat, pulled him out of the booth and pushed him against it. Schmit had to look up to see the man's face.
"You are Hans Schmit, no?"
"Who are you?! You want money? I have no money!"
"Give me your wallet..."
Schmit nervously complied.
"You do not move. You move, I will kill you."
"Kill me? I do not have that much money for you to kill me!" He was sweating profusely.
"I do not want your money, just your address..."
Hans Schmit frowned, not understanding, but he stood very still as Illya pulled out his driver's license.
He then whistled to a police officer standing at the corner.
"Oui? ce qui semble être le problème?" (Yes? What seems to be the problem?)
"This man is holding a small boy and his nanny at this address." He handed the officer the license. "He is a known kidnapper and murderer."
"This man is mad!" Schmit spat.
Illya took out his identification showing he was KGB. The officer nodded, then grabbed Schmit by his arm, and whistled for another police officer who was in a police car.
"No! You are mistaken!"
The officer shook him and threw him in the back seat. As he got into the passenger side, he said to the other officer in French,
"We must get to this address immediately. A child and woman are being held against their will by this pig...call for backup."
As the siren was turned on, Illya grinned and gave Schmit a wave goodbye. When the police car was out of sight, Illya headed for the street where he would enter the catacombs.