Getting into the city had been a dirty and undignified ordeal. They found themselves in the northern reaches Le Marais District.
"We've been sent to investigate what's going on here, the question is where do we start," Élise said.
"Perhaps from the people who've likely set out to do the same thing," Arno replied.
"What do you mean?"
"The friends you made us. The Parisian Assassins."
Élise felt a strange embarrassment at having them brought up, but it was indeed good thinking.
"That's actually a brilliant idea."
They started heading south.
It was amazing how things had changed during the past few years, both in France, and her life. In a way, though, fate formed a strange and comforting circle. She may be a Templar, but it was a warm twist she could not only count on Arno but also the Parisian Assassins as her friends. Things could have gone much worse. But they were another envoy from Normandy, so her family back home must have learned the truth by now. She could only imagine what her father and sister were thinking.
Ahead a small band of soldiers were marching across the street, their leader carrying a torch. There were no visible civilians out at this hour. Hopefully they would not attract too much attention over that fact. They had already come minimally armed.
Élise said, "It's a shame Choderlos is out fighting the Prussians. He would probably know what was going on here."
Arno did not respond.
Another pair of soldiers crossed the street ahead.
They came to the Siene river, moonlight shimmering on its water. The Café Théâtre was on one of the two islands which forked the river. They began crossing the bridge. A disheveled pauper was sleeping at its side.
As far as she knew Arno had never come to the Café Théâtre before, she was not even sure he knew it was their hideout. She wondered what he was thinking.
It was such a grand, beautiful building, the Café Théâtre. It was so much different than the hideout where she had betrayed her six compatriots (that thought stung her). It was hard to believe it was a hideout for outlaws.
Coming to the front entrance, she was not sure how to proceed. Would a knock would even get their attention? No one at this hour would be inside except the Assassins, and they would probably be clustered at the core of the facility. Still, a knock would be her first course of action. So she made her way up on the porch, to the red doorway. She knocked.
She waited through the silence.
A soldier in the distance shouted commands.
A cat shrieked.
But more silence.
Not surprising. If the Assassins were trying to maintain cover as an ordinary establishment, they would want people to think no one was there at this hour. She would have to resort to more unconventional methods; unconventional for a civilian, that is.
"Alright, you don't see anyone watching us, do you?"
Arno glanced about. "No."
She took out her lockpick and got to work. Her mind went back to her teenage years in Normandy. Lockpicking was one of the first skills they taught her.
Click. She was in.
She opened the door. It opened with a loud creak, that felt all the louder echoing through an Assassin hideout. Though she remembered the layout from her daytime visits, it was almost completely black inside. She thought she could see the faintest bit of torchlight emanating from the doorway at the left end of the main chamber, but that was it. Only the faint reflection of moonlight through the windows assisted her eyes beyond that
She closed the door, isolating them from the outside world. Then she shouted to identify herself: "Hello? Mlle Gouze? Benoît? Eugene? It's me: Élise-Emma de la Caen! We've come to collaborate!"
Silence. It hung in the air, thick and suspenseful. It was possible no one was here, but if so she would certainly be an unexpected visitor. Then she could see some light coming from the doorway at the left end of the chamber. There were footsteps. Then shadows. Gouze emerged onto the scene at from the left doorway with a candle. Astolphe was by her side, holding a pistol.
"Élise...Élise-Emma. What is this about?" It had been half a year since they had seen each other.
"We've come here to see what you know about this lockdown...and perhaps help you put down the men behind it."
She and Alstolphe exchanged a look. Ms. Gouze then spoke, "We would prefer to keep the details of any assassination we have planned to ourselves. But I can tell you what we've learned. Why don't you...come downstairs."
She was pleased by the trust. This would be her first time in the guts of the sanctuary. Élise proceeded towards the doorway at the end of the current chamber. It was a near perfect quiet right now, very much unlike the other times she visited, when it had been bustling with diners and performers. She could hear her feet against the carpet. Charlotte did not start walking until she was almost there.
Going through the left doorway, she found herself in a stone storage room, filled with barrels, shelves, and sacks, before they proceeded down some stone stairs. She had a feeling not many people saw what was down here. At the bottom, they turned left again and went through the pillared stone hallways, before coming into a gothic looking room.
Benoît-Jacques, Eugene-Nicolas, Philippe-Gilbert, and Roger-Pierre. Roger had been the other prisoner Marat had spoken to Danton about. She was pleased to see he was still alive. They all stood around a table with a large map. The matriarch leaned over it and pointed.
"This evening Robespierre had a meeting with the Commune. He convinced them to appoint François Hanriot to 'Commandant-General' of the Parisian National Guard."
'Convinced them.' Élise wondered if they knew about the Apple, but she had to bite her tongue.
"I don't recall that name," Élise said, referring to François Hanriot. She knew the current head of the National Guard was named Santerre.
"Hanriot is someone we've been watching. We know he's exchanged at least one letter with Robespierre. He's the one commanding the forces in the city as we speak."
"Isn't Santerre himself an Illuminatus? Why bother appointing-"
"Santerre is fighting abroad," Gouze interrupted. "I think the Illuminati are looking for someone to handle business locally. So they've picked Hanriot."
Élise wondered, was he an Illuminatus, or victim of the Apple?
"And what is that 'business'?" Arno asked.
"We believe they are coming for the Girondins. They're going to surround the Convention with the help of the local militia tomorrow if our intelligence is correct." The local militia: The Fédérés.
Did they really have the audacity for a full political cleansing of the Girondin Party? Such a brazen slap in the face to democracy?
"All of them?"
"All of the Girondins? We don't know. We think they're still planning that aspect of the operation, but we do have a list of those among their definite targets."
She nodded towards Eugene, who handed Élise a piece of paper. Élise looked down while Arno leaned in awkwardly to get his own view.
Nicolas-Robert LeBlance
Jean-Marie & Marie-Jeanne Roland de la Platière
Étienne Clavière
Raymond-Adam de Chartes
The second and third lines jumped out at her. Those were Templars, people her superior had suggested checking up on.
Gouze continued, "We're drawing up plans to kill Hanriot right now. We would prefer not to involve you in that. But perhaps you could warn these Girondins, even help smuggle them out of the city."
"Warn the Girondins..." Élise said distantly as she looked down at the list. Gouze probably did not even know she was staring at three Templar names: Étienne Clavière and Jean-Marie and Marie-Jeanne Roland.
"It wouldn't hurt to have a wealthy and powerful man or woman who owes you a favor," Gouze said.
"You're right, I just..."
"I'm unsure of their addresses. Except for Étienne Clavière, he -"
"Don't worry, I know. Come, Arno."
She turned and walked out, Arno in tow. She marched briskly back up the steps, through the stone room and then the empty, dark theater and dining hall. It would have looked eerie and foreboding at this hour, if there were not real things to fear. She opened the door she had entered through and exited.
Back in the cool night air, Arno spoke first.
"Some of those people were Templars, weren't they? Clavière..."
"Yes, Arno. We need to save them. I will head for the Roland couple. You warn Clavière."