This wasn't another kidnapping. That was what Elaine tried to assure herself of as Inspector Detective Bloom forced her to walk up the hotel floors. Whenever another person could be seen, Bloom would quickly hide his gun but stand closer behind Elaine until they were alone again, in which Elaine would feel the gun against her head again. Why was she saying that phrase of all things in her mind? Simple really.

Her pride.

The idea of getting kidnapped again would have severely wounded her pride, leaving a scar on it. It would be a true blow to her dignity. She just tried to tell herself that she was being held hostage. In comparison, it was better than being kidnapped.

Almost.

"So, I'm guessing you don't really work with Scotland Yard?" Elaine asked. Talking might be useful. Keep him distracted? Maybe not. But she could still use that time to try and find a way out of this. She partially regretted not going with Professor Layton, and perhaps even about not just going straight to Rsymond's room when she could. But when you think on what you should have done, it's already too late.

"I do," he replied bluntly. "It's just more of a case of my loyalties lying elsewhere."

"In a sewer? In the slums" Elaine guessed. May as well come up with some insults if she could.

"Just keep moving until I say stop." If one good thing could be said for Bloom, it was that he was efficient, and knew how to focus on his job. Elaine wouldn't say that was an entirely good thing at the moment though. Elaine glanced at each of the room numbers, just to have an idea of which floor she was on.

204… 205… 206…

Not too far from 221. That's the room Raymond was supposed to be in, wasn't it? Elaine bit her lip, trying to think fast. Just running to the room would be pointless. Raymond would probably end up getting dragged in and right now, Elaine would have to be sneaky in order to get the message of her current predicament to him to pass on to Descole.

210… 211… 212…

A plan then came. She would have to be careful to make the beginning of it look realistic, and it had to have a little timing.

216… 217… 218…

But she could do it.

It was outside room 221 when Elaine tripped and fell to the floor with a thump. She groaned from the light pain from when her head hit the floor. That had not been part of the plan. The blonde wig had fallen off her head though, just outside the door.

"What happened?" Bloom demanded, annoyance showing in his tone.

"These shoes," Elaine replied bluntly, speaking a little louder than before as she stayed sitting on the ground. "My cousin wears a different kind of 'igh 'eel then what I'm used to." It wasn't a complete lie. Madeline's high heels were usually shorter than Elaine's. But Bloom didn't need to know that.

"Just get up."

"Don't I deserve to know where exactly it is poor Elaine Hawthorne is going, Inspector Detective Bloom?" Elaine said his name and title mockingly, appearing to roll her eyes but really looking again to room 221. Bloom looked mostly calm. A look that didn't change as he held the gun up towards her again.

"Move."

"Fine, fine." Elaine sighed in a lightly dramatic fashion as she held her hands up and stood up. Leaving the wig on the floor and turned to continue walking.

"You're not going to bring the wig with you?" asked Bloom. Since he was behind her, Elaine was free to smirk as she said,

"Non. No point bringing it since you already figured out who I was." Without another word, Elaine continued her walk again. Hopefully Raymond heard her. Even if he wasn't able to do anything, he could at least alert Descole to her… predicament. Right now, that hope was all she had.

When they finally stopped, they were outside room 276. Elaine kept calm but her heart was stuck in her throat as Bloom knocked on the door and opened it.

"Get in." Elaine wordless entered. Heart pounding almost painfully as she kept her breathing steady and calm. The room looked fairly luxurious, though not too overly decorated. While there were no lights on, curtain bare windows did make it possible to see. There were two couches, and on the one facing the direction of the door Elaine just entered through was a man around her father's age. Elaine faintly recalled seeing him in the hotel at some point. His faded hair looked like an imitation of a lion mane and his eyes were hidden behind blue shades. There was a ferret on his lap, which he was stroking. A James Bond villain came to mind, though she couldn't quite remember his name right now.

"I'm guessing this is Descole's associate?" the man questioned. He didn't sound to particularly interested.

"I'm not an associate!" Elaine snapped, only to be shoved foreword by Bloom a few steps.

"I didn't think you would be so rude on a first meeting." Elaine would have snorted at the old man's remark, but she just gave as cold a look as possible.

"Desole, but I don't think I'm required to give you any form of politeness seeing 'ow your little chore boy just 'eld a gun to my 'ead." Elaine spoke coolly.

"Well how I show you manners and offer a drink to you? Wine? Sherry?"

"Not thirsty." Elaine replied. It was true, and even if she was, she would have said no anyway. Who knows what they would put in her drink.

"Suit yourself." The man shrugged before gesturing a hand to the couch in front of him. "May as well sit down." Elaine bit her tongue and sat down on the couch. If it wasn't for Bloom and his gun, Elaine probably would have already tried running. But still, as calm as this man may have been acting, there seemed to be an aura of intimidation off of him.

"I'm sure you just want to get this over with Hawthorne, so allow me to cut to the chase."

"So you're going to tell me your name? You already know mine."

"You're in no position to make demands." Bloom spoke from behind, but the man held is hand up.

"Now, now. If she really insists on knowing, it's only fair. You can refer to me as Bronev. Leader of Targent."

Did bad guys in real life have a thing about being called by names that are clearly their surnames? But Elaine tightened her lips. She was already questioning why her fortune seemed so erratic these days. This man mentioned Descole. So they probably had an awareness of one another at the least. That could have also have meant that these were the same people Elaine saw at the Akbadain ruins, and had Johanna. So far the only reasonably good thing here was that she had a name to put to this group now.

"If you're trying to impress me with your rank, it isn't working. Just tell me what you want so I can go already." Bronev scoffed a bit.

"So impatient. But very well. I'm sure you're already aware of the artefacts that lie here in Monte d'Or?"

"Masks of Chaos and Order?" That she didn't even get a chance to touch but Descole wanted to keep the Mask of Chaos safe. Like it was any safer in his hands.

"Indeed. And I'm not sure what exactly Descole told you, but it would be better for everyone if the masks were given to us. We already have reason to believe that the Mask of Chaos is hidden somewhere in this hotel, and it would be helpful if you told us." Elaine clenched her teeth in annoyance. Descole wouldn't have seriously left the mask here alone, would he? If he left it with Raymond, that would be understandable. Anywhere else? Stupidity on his part.

"I'm afraid I'm in the dark about that information," Elaine said calmly. "But perhaps you should try asking the Masked Gentleman? He is the one performing these 'miracles' in the city after all."

"Acting smart isn't going to make your position anymore bare able, Hawthorne. But here's another question. Where exactly is Descole?"

Elaine wasn't quick to respond. She wasn't exactly too sure how to respond. But she knew she wouldn't be giving Descole up, so she calmly replied to Bronev's question,

"Desole, but I 'aven't seen 'im in nearly a week. 'E could be gone entirely for all I know."

"And he just left you behind to pretend being your cousin?" Bronev commented dryly. "Oh, no. I think you do have an idea of where he is, or at least his current disguise. I would consider rethinking your answer. It would probably be for the best."

"Give me a good reason why I should."

"For starters," Bronev said. "I could offer you a position with us. We already have translators in Azran glyphs, but having another would be nothing to complain about. And we also have associates in Marigold-."

"What?!" Elaine sat a little straighter as a smirk played on Bronev's lips.

"Yes. Quaint little village not too far from London. Your parents are, Christophe and Anne Hawthorne, yes? Such a shame it would be for Philippe to visit home from Wales and find no life there." The not so subtle threat left a bad taste in Elaine mouth as well as a bile-like sensation in her throat. Her lower lip trembled as panic took over. She had to agree! She couldn't let her parents die!

But then she remembered something. Descole had impersonated Madeline and called her parents, hadn't he? And he said they would be in France for a month or so with relatives. Elaine let herself calm down. She still felt it was risky, but she was certain that for the moment, luck was briefly on her side.

"You're bluffing. And as I said before, I 'aven't seen Descole in over a week. You'll 'ave to try someone else." He stopped petting his ferret and huffed lightly.

"Right now, you're reminding me of my granddaughter on her stubborn days."

"With you as a grandfather, I can only imagine why." Elaine scoffed before frowning as she looked out the windows. She didn't realise Monte d'Or could get sand storms.

"What?" Bronev looked behind him to the windows and quickly stood up and walk to them. Nearly dropping his pet doing so. "What on… What has that mad man done?!" Elaine loathed herself for doing so, but assuming this had something to do with Descole, she had to agree with this Bronev man.

"Is he causing a sandstorm?" questioned Bloom, walking around the couch to stand by his superior.

"It looks more like a type of sand tsunami! He's going to bury the entire city!"

"Then I suppose we should leave then?"

"If you value your life, yes!"

During this, Elaine had quickly jumped off the couch and ran to the door. Her intentions were simply. Open door. Run. Try and find Raymond. If not, the Professor since by now Henry and Descole would be with him. The door however was locked. She really should have expected that.

"Apologies Hawthorne." Elaine didn't bother to look back, but continued vain attempts to open the door. "But I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."

Feeling something hit the back of her head, knocking her unconscious to the ground, Elaine was not sure what hurt more.

The pain in her head, or the blow to her pride of her current kidnapping.