The Persian flicked on the small flashlight in his hand and cast the beam of light ahead of them. He entered the mansion through this very tunnel after Erik himself arrived. He waited until the masked man notified him of his arrival, then proceeded through the passage himself. The space they were in was narrow and fetid with mildew and rodent droppings. The walls were an uneven brick, with many lying scattered on the passage floor. The ceiling over their heads was nearly seven feet high and appeared to be solid rock.
"Who was in the store that night? She was frightened nearly to death." Erik's voice was in his left ear, soft and dangerous.
"Behzadi's henchman," Nadir admitted.
The Persian made the Iranian drug lord aware of the budding relationship between Erik and Ms. Daae, and he cautioned him about moving too soon. He hadn't listened to Nadir, but sent his thug into the store to kidnap Christine, not realizing that the Phantom was watching his every move. Behzadi's reasoning was sound. Take the Daae woman and the Phantom was sure to follow, but the plan failed.
Instead, Behzadi's man had barely escaped, and with a broken wrist to show for his trouble. Still, Erik was not himself. His distraction with Ms. Daae became their trump card. Love could indeed bring a man to his knees. Nadir watched as the masked man scanned the tunnel on both sides of the passage. He knew very well that Erik had excellent night vision. It was one of his many abilities that confounded Nadir for years.
He could still at times be in awe of his friend and not surprisingly, afraid of him as well. He realized that Erik was no doubt planning something at this very moment, but whatever it was, it would be tempered with his need for Christine's safety. Fear for another human was not an emotion the Phantom was familiar with. He would go cautiously and strike at the moment he considered to be most advantageous. Of that, the Persian had no doubt. That was Nadir's only means of controlling him.
He regretted his actions and would rue the day he was forced to connive with slime like Behzadi. He never thought overly much about his association with Erik, but the Persian had trusted him. They worked together for years and covered each others backs countless times in dangerous situations. He sighed heavily. The need to have his son safe again pushed him to act.
But his heart was heavy on this night. Betraying a man who saved his very life; a man he once considered his friend, was a terrible thing indeed. But Reza was his child and Nadir had little choice in the matter. He would get his son back, Allah willing, but realized his betrayal of Erik would haunt him forever.
Christine moved slowly through the dark, narrow passage, her gown sweeping through the dirt and debris of years. If she hadn't been so scared, she would have found it amusing that the three of them were slightly overdressed for this dark and dreary tunnel. Her feet were becoming sore. The silver shoes she was wearing had low heels, but were never meant for walking great distances. She shivered, feeling the cold and damp. Erik, as if sensing her discomfort, stopped and removed his frock coat. He wrapped it around her small form, his hands lingering on her shoulders.
Nadir watched him carefully for any sign of trickery. Christine whispered her thanks, holding the coat close to her, the scant warmth from his body still in its folds, his scent comforting to her. A killer you may be, Erik, but you're a polite one, aren't you? We're probably going to die tonight, but at least I'll be warm.
He turned and continued walking forward. She was startled when she heard his sibilant whisper directly in her right ear. "Trust Erik- please. He will not let any harm come to you, ma petite." Her eyes filled with tears and she swiped a grubby hand across them. In spite of everything, she found that she still did.
Philippe meanwhile was organizing a search for Christine, his brother already looking in some of the first floor rooms, while others searched the grounds. The masquerade party had thinned somewhat, but many were still enjoying themselves and awaiting midnight for the unmasking. Raoul appeared rumpled and tired to his brother and again, Philippe tried to get the younger man to rest.
"You won't be much help, brother if I end up having to carry you," he said.
Raoul ignored him and said abruptly, "Where did he take her? I know that poor excuse for a human had something to do with her disappearing."
They were on their way upstairs to check the bedrooms and library, deciding to start with the library first. Upon entering the room, they discovered the body of Andre Moncharmin sprawled on the floor in his own blood. Philippe was no stranger to violence, having spent a good portion of his life dealing in it, but the image of the quiet library being shattered by this shook him.
And the thought crossed his mind, that somehow Andre's death was tied to Christine's absence. He knelt by the body and examined him quickly for the cause of death, finding the bullet hole in Moncharmin's chest.
"He hasn't been dead very long. I was talking to him less than two hours ago."
He grabbed a throw from the back of a club chair and placed it over the body, the act making Raoul breathe a bit easier. Philippe then walked around the room looking for any clues as to what happened. He spied something white lying near one of the chairs, and went over and picked it up. It was a length of thin plastic often used for securing items, or in some instances people.
Raoul looked at the long piece of plastic. "What's that?"
Philippe studied it a moment longer, but said nothing. He walked over to the door under the stairs and turned the knob, surprised to see it unlocked.
"I think whoever killed Andre left through the tunnel and I intend to follow." Quickly, he got on his phone and alerted the agents in the ballroom and the perimeter to the danger; the security of the guests would be tightened, and getting in and out of the mansion would be even more difficult if not impossible. He turned to his brother. "You stay put and watch this door. I don't think they're coming back this way, but the situation at the moment is fluid."
Philippe went to the large desk on the other side of the room, and opening the drawer, he removed a pair of pistols and checked them for rounds, putting extra clips in his pockets and headed for the door leading to the passage.
Raoul followed behind his brother, his head aching like a bitch. "Oh no you don't. I'm going too. Andre isn't going anywhere and that monster has Christine. I know it."
Philippe didn't have the time to argue with him. "Fine," he snapped, "but stay behind me. In case you didn't notice, brother, Andre was shot to death."
"I noticed," Raoul said faintly.
"Then here, take this," and he handed Raoul one of the Glock semi-automatic pistols.
He made a face, but accepted the gun knowing Philippe wouldn't let him go unarmed. They entered the tunnel, listening carefully for movement ahead of them. Hearing nothing, they moved forward cautiously, both wondering what they were walking into.
Erik knew they were nearly to the end of the tunnel, and he was fast running out of time. His frustration mounted as they neared the end of the passage. He couldn't act in the tunnel. It was too narrow and an all too real possibility that Christine could be harmed in the close quarters if a fight occurred. His best chance to get her away would have to take place while the Persian was climbing out of the tunnel. Nadir would be compromised for approximately ten seconds climbing out- more than enough time to incapacitate him.
He had a knife in his boot. Not that he needed it. In this case, his bare hands would be sufficient. His only concern was for her safety. It was that very reason which hampered his ability to act. He failed abysmally in reading the signs of the daroga's betrayal, and that in turn led to the danger his angel was now in. His mind shied away from her opinion of him. He couldn't afford to dwell on that at the moment. He needed to focus on the job at hand as he always did in the past.
Nor could he acknowledge the shock of his only friend selling him out. It was for Reza, but nevertheless the pain was there. But then, everyone eventually turned from him. Christine too, and the loss was excruciating. He swung around and looked at her. She started in uneasy surprise as his strange eyes glowed in the beam from the flashlight. It was uncanny and disturbing, reminding her of nothing more than a large nocturnal animal. To Erik, her face was pale and tired, the fright of the last hour exhausting her store of energy.
He faced forward and sent his voice into the Persian's ear again. "I will not beg, daroga for I fear it would be useless, but if anything happens to her, anything at all, you will die."
The Persian nodded his head, not doubting Erik. If the man had to come back from the grave, Nadir had no doubt whatsoever about his will to accomplish it.
Erik spoke from ahead, "We are at the end."
"After you, Erik, and remember- my son is what's important to me, so don't try anything you'll regret. And I must caution you on any type of action once you leave the tunnel. We will be joined by Behzadi's men and escorted to his home, so I implore you not to try something foolish. Think of Christine."
Nadir softened his voice and looked at her. "I don't want to hurt you, young woman. I just want my son to be safe."
Erik felt his hopes plummet for a quick getaway. He would have to await a better opportunity. No matter. He would keep her safe from harm. He opened the grate and hoisted himself lightly through the opening, then turned and lifted Christine up. The thought flashed through his mind to grab her and make a run for it, but before the thought could be acted upon, the snap of a twig revealed the presence of the others.
The four men stepped forward, approaching them cautiously, the full moon giving off a bright milky glow and providing the tableau with an eerie incandescence. He pulled Christine tightly into his side and eyed the approaching men warily. She watched them close in. She was very frightened, but not for herself alone. She grabbed onto his hand and held tightly to it. She felt his thumb softly stroking the back of her hand. There was a slight tremor in it, but she felt comforted nonetheless.
Nadir emerged from the tunnel and stared at the four men. "I have delivered the Phantom to you, Behzadi. Let this woman leave unharmed and keep your word. Return my son to me."
Asad Behzadi stepped forward and gestured toward Erik. He was a short, husky man in his mid thirties, well known for his shady business practices, a penchant for women and gambling, and an old score to settle.
"All in good time, Nadir Khan. I must see the creature for myself. To see personally that he is given no quarter for murdering my family." He stared at Erik with hatred. "Be aware that I know of your voice tricks. Those games won't work with me." Asad looked at Erik for a full minute, then..."Remove it," he said softly.
There was little doubt as to what he meant, but Erik hesitated. "No."
"Farid, take the woman. Shoot the creature in the knee if he moves one inch."
One of Behzadi's men came toward them.
Christine's hand tightened on Erik's when the man approached them, but immediately he spoke. "Wait." He stared unflinching at the drug lord, and slowly removed his mask, revealing his curse and shame.
Behzadi, even knowing he had the upper hand, took an involuntary step backward from the sight that was before him, and the rage he saw in the fiery eyes of his father's killer.
Christine couldn't help but look at his true face. After all the suppositions of what the mask was hiding, she could only stare in utter disbelief. Because of all her imaginings, she never came close. She shut her eyes briefly, then looked again. The full moon shed more than enough light on the face Erik had kept well hidden from her behind the realistic mask. Her eyes were drawn helplessly to the middle of his face, to the nasal cavities where a nose would normally occupy space. The long patrician nose she thought belonged to him, was simply a part of the mask, and at this knowledge, her hand came up and covered her mouth in shock. He doesn't have a nose. His face- my God.
The utter incongruity of it.
It looked unfinished. The thin, delicate skin stretched drum tight over the underlying bone structure, the cheek bones unnaturally high and too sharply defined. To Christine, it was as if she was looking upon a human skull suddenly animated and come to ghastly life. She was horrified to see blood pulsating through the network of veins under the minuscule covering of gray, discolored flesh which covered his cheeks and forehead.
The sockets of his eyes were deeply set as well, merely adding to the death-like appearance. It was a face of nightmares- strange and frightening to look upon, and in her shock, she couldn't tear her eyes away. She had without knowing she did so, made a noise deep in her throat, and taken a half-step back from him. It would be all right she reasoned, if she could hear him speak, then maybe it would be her Erik once more and not this dreadful stranger.
He could not help glancing at her briefly, and his heart broke at the utter horror he saw there. She was terrified of him. How could she not be? He choked down his feelings and looked at the Iranian drug lord. "Let the woman leave here unharmed, Behzadi. She means nothing to you. Let her go."
The Iranian smiled and glanced toward Christine, chuckling at the look of aversion on her face. "Ah, but she means a great deal to you, I think. The banu (lady) seems a little ill at the moment," he added in silky tones.
Erik tried again. "If she walks away now, you have my word to go with you peacefully. Much easier for you and your men, yes?"
"Your word?" he sneered. "Your word means nothing! No, I think it will be more interesting with her along. I have a room prepared for you in my home. There's space for two, no doubt. I will enjoy your suffering watching her suffer. Now you'll be able to understand grief firsthand... eh, Phantom?"
He gestured one of his men forward and said something to him in man looked at Christine and licked his lips. Erik tugged her behind him and literally growled.
Behzadi laughed and said to Christine, "He has no intention of sharing you, banu. But I hardly think he gets to decide. You are a pretty little thing." His eyes swept over her body, liking her sweet curves.
Erik tensed for a fight, keeping his eyes on the Iranian moving slowly toward him. The man was clearly afraid of the image the Phantom presented, and did not want to get too close.
Christine wondered why they didn't just shoot her and Erik, when it dawned on her that the fun for these people would end far too soon if that were so. It was cat and mouse. A cornered mouse and a very hungry cat.
Nadir stood there watching the Iranian thugs move in on his friend and was torn. Could he simply stand here and do nothing? And what about Christine? She was to be given to Behzadi's men. He was arrogant enough to forget he was on foreign soil.
"Enough of this! I have delivered Reauchard to you. Let Ms. Daae leave unharmed. She is an American citizen and really shouldn't concern you."
Behzadi put his hands out in a supplicating gesture. "I ask you, Nadir Khan, shouldn't your concern be directed toward your son?"
The threat was implied, and accomplished what Behzadi meant it to do. The Persian became quiet. But help it seemed had arrived. Before he could go for the first man, the Iranian fired his gun and Erik staggered as the round hit him.
Hard on the heels of the first shot, there was another.