Nadir Khan was informed Wednesday morning that he had a visitor. Curious as to who it was, he followed the guard to the visitor's area and sat down at the counter running the length of the small room split in half by a bullet proof window. On the visitor's side, sitting in a gray plastic chair matching the washed out gray walls was Christine Daae.
The Persian was startled to see her after what he had done to her- and Erik. She studied him from the other side of the glass and he had the good grace to feel shame at what he'd been forced into.
Nadir picked up the phone in front of him and spoke into it.
"Christine. I must admit- this is a surprise."
"Hello Nadir," she said quietly. "How are you?"
The Persian grimaced. "Better than I was the last time you saw me."
"How bad was it?"
"Trauma to my windpipe and a broken collarbone. It was difficult speaking and eating for quite some time," he paused, reliving the agony of the first few days, the pain of his injuries, coupled with the knowledge of his failure to get his son back, "but I am much better now, as you can see.
"Actually, thinking back on it, I was very surprised he let me live. It must have been your influence that stayed his hand. I don't blame him, Christine. He was only trying to protect what he loved. I understand that completely," he watched her closely, noting the dark shadows beneath her eyes, "as I would understand if you won't accept my apology for making you suffer. I am very sorry for hurting you."
"You've already been forgiven by me, Nadir..." Her words trailed off when she realized what he just said. "L-Love?"
Nadir looked at her curiously. "Why, yes. A blind man could see that. He loves you- very much so."
Christine closed her mouth with a snap, deciding to think on that later. The hand on the receiver shook a little. "I had a harder time forgiving you for what you did to him, but I was no better was I?" She looked at the Persian with hollow eyes. "What happens to you now?"
He shrugged. "I won't be here much longer, not more than a month I've been told. I'll be extradited to France and possibly released by the first of the year. Because of my son being taken, they're considering extenuating circumstances. We shall see, Allah willing."
"Your son...is he all right?"
Nadir smiled, touched by her concern, especially after what had occurred.
"Yes, yes. He is fine now."
He looked out the barred window, watching a swirl of leaves blowing across the compound. The sky was a deep azure, the fall day achingly beautiful. He looked forward to a time when he could enjoy an afternoon in the sun again.
With a pensive look, he turned back to her. "Thanks to Erik, Reza is with my sister and hopefully I will see him soon."
Christine digested this information, and the glimmer of Erik she'd been given after all these months. "Have you spoken with him?" she asked eagerly.
"No," he said finally. "I was interviewed by an agent of the DGSE, and without naming any names, I realized who was behind Reza being found and returned to my sister."
"Will you...will you tell me about it, Nadir?"
The Persian sat back in his chair and sighed. "Erik has people everywhere. He pays them well to be his eyes... and ears. His contacts near Tehran found a servant of Behzadi's who was keeping a young boy in his home. A young boy who just happened to match the description of my son. Erik notified the DGSE and they were able to send some agents in there to get him out."
Christine was confused. "I'm glad for you and your son, but Nadir, why didn't you trust Erik in the first place?"
The Persian's look was troubled. "I should have. I realize that now, but you must remember, Erik has never loved anyone until he met you. How could I trust him with my son's life? Besides, Behzadi was already dead when the agents raided the servant's house. He had very little justification anymore to hold my son and every reason to relinquish him.
"Why have you come, Christine?"
She tensed up, wanting to tell him that she was going mad not knowing where Erik was, or how he was faring. That she didn't want to waste another moment apart from him. Instead, quietly, "Where is he, Nadir? How do I find him? You must know. He...he left without saying goodbye. Just a note."
She looked down and was still for a moment, feeling the threat of tears. "I...I never got the chance to speak with him after...after that night."
He looked at her with pity, then shook his head. "For what it's worth, I gave him my word that I would never give away his location. To anyone."
He was surprised that Erik left his little pigeon. Nadir watched the masked man's metamorphoses from a hitman with no feelings, into one of a man deep in the throes of love. It was very curious that he left her behind. The Persian knew without a doubt, it was a move Erik did not make lightly.
Christine had come to mean a lot to him. He knew that, even if the object of his affections did not. What to tell her now?
She sighed, wondering if this was a goose chase. "Philippe told me about Erik working for the French. Did you?"
Nadir smiled slightly. "No, they didn't want me. Only the Phantom. I still worked with him on occasion, but only when he had need of my services. Old habits do indeed die hard. They approached him eight years ago with amnesty if he would help them in their fight against terrorism. It pertained mostly to the French populace living and working in foreign countries."
He chuckled as he remembered Erik's answer to them. "He told them that he didn't want to be an international gendarme. That it wasn't lucrative enough for him, not to mention he didn't relish taking orders from anyone."
"What changed his mind?"
The Persian sat up and looked at her closely. "The very same reason Behzadi wanted him. Erik is a killer, make no mistake about that, but he never harmed a woman or child until that moment. Behzadi Sr. was supposed to be alone. His wife decided to attend at the last minute. After that event, Erik went to the DGSE and offered his services to them. This was five years ago."
At her puzzled look, he explained. "The DGSE is short for the General Directorate for External Security. It performs paramilitary and counter-intelligence abroad. They have prevented quite a few terrorist attacks since the one on your country in 2001. Not just terrorism either, but missions bent on rescuing French citizens taken hostage by insurgents in foreign lands. His very first operation was a raid on a compound in Tobruk, Libya. It was to liberate a trio of journalists held in captivity for six months."
Nadir studied her a moment. "One of them was a woman." He shook his head and sighed. "I have often wondered if he wanted to be a part of that raid because of her."
"For what reason?"
"Why, for atonement. To pay back in some way what he had taken. The botched assassination disturbed him very much. Still does, I think."
"Was it successful- the raid I mean?"
"Yes, very. All three were rescued alive. In a deplorable state, but alive."
"The agents. What about them?" she asked him.
"One killed and three wounded. Erik, not a scratch, if that's what you wanted to know."
"He always puts himself in danger, doesn't he?" she said softly.
Nadir shrugged. "Erik has always been complex. I won't say he has had a death wish all these years, but I don't think he was ever truly concerned with dying. What man is, to be in such a dangerous business, but then again, he's highly dangerous himself, and that will probably never change. As I said, he was haunted after the killings in Tehran, and in his own way working for the French helped him cope with his guilt."
She closed her eyes briefly and spoke into the mouthpiece of the phone. "Please. How do I find him?"
He said nothing, then curtly, "Did his face bother you at all? Can you live with it everyday?"
He searched her face, looking for her resolve. "More importantly, can you live with what he's been? Or possibly what he might still be?"
She hesitated long enough to plant a seed of doubt in his mind. "Of course, you still have your questions, do you not? Then why find him if you're not absolutely sure of your feelings?"
"I've seen his face many times awake and sleeping since then. And believe me, I haven't forgotten one single detail of it, but the power to shock and horrify- no," she said quietly. "He became important to me before I ever saw his face. Maybe if the reverse was true I...I would feel differently, but that's not the way it happened, is it? As for his past...haven't you just told me he's changed? A man who wants to atone for his crimes is not unworthy of love- is he?"
He shook his head."Forgive me for saying this, but it happened very quickly, and with a man at first glance few would even like, let alone love." He cleared his throat and looked a little shamefaced at her. "How can you know for certain it is love you feel for him? Erik...yes. But for yourself, dear lady?"
Christine looked steadily at him, and it was then that he saw what he was looking for. "I've had three very long months to know the answer to that question. Where is he, Nadir?"
He studied her a few moments longer, mulling over his answer. "Do you like opera?" he asked her finally.
She had not been expecting that particular question. "Yes, but..."
Nadir overrode her and said, "The Palais Garnier in Paris is premier among opera houses. I would seriously urge you to go there and experience it for yourself." He paused and held her gaze, then added in a low voice, "I've even been told that it's haunted. Long after the show is over and all is quiet. Do you believe in ghosts, young woman?"
His smile was slight as he observed her. "Erik greatly admires your voice. Perhaps you might sing for him again. The acoustics in the old theatre are quite good. Wouldn't it be a wonderful experience for you on that stage singing? Perhaps if you sing loud enough, someone will indeed hear.
"Do you understand me?" He kept his gaze steady on her a moment longer.
She stared back at him and lowered her voice. "Are you saying there's a phantom of the opera?" she whispered.
He shrugged, amused in spite of himself. "Go and find out for yourself, Christine. And let me know what you discover." He debated with himself and at last said softly, "If you find what you're looking for, tell him...tell him an old friend says- thank you." He abruptly stood up. "Farewell, Christine. May you find your heart's desire."
The guard escorted him from the room and she was alone with her somber thoughts. She missed Erik more each day. She could continue on as she had been, with her life stuck in neutral and going nowhere. She would never get what she wanted by expecting him to return to her. He loved her. She was sure of it now. He left her with one of his most beloved possessions- his violin. Oh, so now you figure it out. Way to go, bird-brain.
His reasoning for leaving her behind was questionable, however. She had to know for certain why he gave up on them. She was going to Paris.