"Fatal, deep wounds. And yet word is that the fiery little upstart still breathes." Richelieu complained as he stood with hands clasped behind his back, looking out over the Paris cityscape.
"Not for long, Your Eminence." Rochefort said confidently.
"A report has reached these halls that the boy survived the night." Richelieu scowled.
"The blows I gave the little s- will eat up his little remaining strength soon enough." Rochefort said.
"They should have on impact. Tell me, Captain," the Cardinal curled his lip, "why I have not as of yet removed you permanently from your rank as captain of my guard."
"Y-Your Eminence, I-"
"I did not risk moral standards to bring myself up to this position only to be fatigued of your flimsy excuses and pathetic whimpering." Richelieu indignantly cut him off. "With Milady out of the picture, we do not have a perfect spy on both fronts. And you, my dear Captain, are too widely known for your brutality and lack of sportsmanship to even begin to try to be an effective undercover agent."
"Yes, Your Eminence." Rochefort bowed glumly, the Cardinal's back still facing him.
"I am rather tired of these so elaborate plots of ours only going to pot. As bitter as it nauseates me to admit it, the bratty king's musketeers are becoming too wise and resourceful for their own good. Especially Athos. He appears to see through everything." The Cardinal growled. "And now, I am at a loss as to how to rectify that."
"Perhaps another attempt to finish the boy off once and for all." Rochefort suggested eagerly.
The Cardinal laughed darkly. "Oh, yes! Because the great Captain Rochefort never fails to secure that fate!" Then he finally face his cold-blooded captain. "Do you think I am such a fool to send you on such a mission? Or have you suddenly become so professional in the Dark Arts that you can simply wave your hand and transfigure your fine self into perhaps a rat? Don't think me stupid, Rochefort! You could no more pass as the Queen of France any more than I could the town drunk! Besides, Captain Treville has practically fortified the city hospital with his army of musketeers. There will be guards in every corner, at every door."
"Your Eminence, I never suggested that I would be the one to carry this one out. On the contrary."
"Oh? You have someone in mind? Someone as cunning as Milady? Do tell!"
"I do. The musketeers have a major weakness, besides their pain in the ass heroics. A lady."
"Ahh, yes." Richelieu purred with his eyebrows raised. "Of course. The cavaliers have never been famous for their ability to turn down a pretty face. And how do you suggest we rid ourselves of the little bleeding leech in our midst?"
"Don't worry. I've already made the arrangements." Rochefort grinned creepily. "It's simple really. Say perhaps the lad suddenly takes a turn for the worse, from...massive infection?"
"A woman's weapon. It's perfect. Perhaps I under-appreciate you sometimes, Rochefort. For all your brazen knack for gun fights, sometimes you actually do have a mind for pure strategy. But don't let it go to your head. This attempt will not fail this time. Do you understand? It will not."
"I swear on my life, Your Eminence, I will not rest until the deed is done."
"Don't be hasty to make such grand oaths, my dear captain. It may cost you."
"Yes, Your Eminence." Rochefort said stoically.
"Finish the boy. Make sure that he is dead before morning." Richelieu commanded. "Now, are you certain you have the appropriate candidate for this mission?"
"Wi, Sir." Rochefort narrowed his snakelike eye. "I have just the woman for the job!"