There was nothing unique in that story that only those present, the exclusive group of the Marcquesa and Elli, would have known. ‘I see you have left any hint of decency, principle or humanity at the door, or in your own personal prison that you inhabit. I don’t know what you are playing at.’
‘You don’t believe me, I see. Well a DNA analysis would resolve your dilemma and dispel your doubts and in fact we can have it done right here in this city. You can observe in case you may think I will interfere with the result. We’ll take a recess until this is done. Elli, you are coming with me. The others will stay here. Enjoy yourselves. We will not be long.’
A roar of voices filled the chamber in defiance to the Marcquesa, but taking advantage of her absence. The gossip and speculation flowed freely.
Those present could not believe their luck at the prime entertainment enacted for their benefit, a rare sight indeed, made all the more exciting because of the dreariness of this little place that was governed by fear, a depressing life that was in stark contrast to the impressive visual accomplishment surrounding them, the living and extraordinary testament to the talent and vision of the creators of this city, of this marvel that was Le Mirabel.
The audience marvelled to at the tingling-to-the-ear sensation of the contrasting female voices of the two protagonists in the drama that had unfolded in the chamber, one deep (Elli), the other high-pitched and painful to the brain (the Marcquesa).
Huge enjoyment was derived from the high-octane verbal battle of wills, the exchange of civilised insults back and forth like a tennis match. The audience was anxiously looking forward to the next act. How delicious. They wouldn’t miss it for the world.
Within twenty minutes they were back. From Elli’s face they all knew that what the Marcquesa said was true. They were indeed sisters.
‘Now, my dear Elli, there is someone here I want you to meet.’ She turned to one of her servants. ‘Bring him in.’ Andrew Le Charos was brought in none the worse for wear, looking as fresh as if he had come out of a mountain spring moments before. ‘Andrew and I have found some common ground, haven’t we, darling?’ The Marcquesa gently squeezed and pulled at his chin as she said that.
Elli was confused. This was an unexpected development. ‘What is the meaning of this, Marcquesa?’ Then she turned to Andrew. ‘Do you know what you are doing allying yourself with her?’ Even as she said it she knew it was pointless when she saw his blank face looking at his mistress with complete adoration, enraptured by her.
What had they done to him? It was obvious to Elli that Andrew had been brainwashed. But how? The “why” was easier to guess, considering Andrew’s connection to Elli’s and Andros Markantaskis’ families. Was there anything of him left in there at all, she wondered. Elli addressed the Marcquesa. ‘What are you planning to do with us?’
‘Well, I do want the mines and the information from you and from Giorgos, and until you give it to me, you are not going anywhere. You will be wondering why John Halland is here. I thought about that long and hard and almost left him behind, but he has been close to this matter and I’m sure that he has certain knowledge he would be very kind to share with us, though he keeps protesting to the contrary.’
The Marcquesa paused and turned to look at Giorgos.
‘Giorgos, you may be interested to know that your dear old friend, James Calvell, has joined his maker in the sky and will no longer be helping you or anyone else for that matter. Nor will he be bothering us either.’
Giorgos went ashen. He felt a chill travel down his spine and through his veins and arteries reach every part of his body. He was in a state of shock and disbelief. She must be lying, he thought. But would she be bluffing to scare us into submission? He answered his own question. Yes, of course she would.
She couldn’t exactly be trusted, now, could she? She would have no compunction whatsoever in toying with them, just to see her captives squirm and to amuse herself with watching her captives’ reaction to her tricks and surprises and her inflammatory verbal bombs that had been premeditated and were carefully targeted.
The Marcquesa cut through Giorgos’ thoughts.
‘Maybe we should have done the same with John here. He is disposable, just like his boss. But maybe, Giorgos here will be persuaded with the death sentence hanging over John as well as his parents to cooperate. One by one you will be tortured slowly with the others watching. So, Giorgos, I would suggest that you reconsider.’
The Marcquesa addressed her minions.
‘Put them in the isolation cell where they shall remain until they come to their senses.’
Before she was led out, Elli had a last word. She turned and looked at her nemesis and sister. Her captors holding her by the arms and pulling her away sensed the strength emanating from her and washing over them and automatically released her as if hypnotised by her defiance into doing so. Then Elli spoke.
‘My dear Marcquesa, that power of the last Emperor you seek is not real. It’s just a myth. Stop this ridiculous charade and let us do the good deed we have to do.’
‘Elli… defiant to your last breath. Why am I not surprised? You can’t fool me with this desperate act. You are as ruthless and power-hungry as I am. We share the same blood, the same genes after all.’
Elli spat irony. ‘I wouldn’t want to see you disappointed, that’s all. Because I know your fury will consume you and those working for you, and anyone unlucky enough to inadvertently cross your path will dearly pay for your loss. You don’t know how to lose graciously, dear sister. I haven’t forgotten how you would react as the precocious child that you were, if you did not get your own way.
‘And you would take revenge. A child’s revenge can be cruel, but yours was in a league of its own, crueller than most. Yes, you were right and they were right to tell you that you were rotten from birth. It was in your genes. You were spiteful with a sting that stung more savagely than anything anyone had experienced, than I have experienced since then. I still bear the marks and scars of your endeavours and taste its bitter taste all the way to my heart. Yours is a mean streak like no other, such an integral part of you, that it doesn’t go away.’
Elli said her piece in one fast torrent. She was almost out of breath. Then she relaxed, but was still shaking and panting from the effort. She was desperately taking in mouthfuls of air as if she had just been drowning and was saved from the teeth of certain death.
The Marcquesa, though secretly boiling with anger at the truth of Elli’s words, did not make any attempt to interrupt her and furthermore indicated to her underlings to do the same.
When Elli had finished the Marcquesa did not reply, but just laughed, a loud, ugly laugh that made the hairs of everybody present stand on end, in salute, as if ordered to attention by her power.
After that surreal exchange the prisoners were led away back to the minimalist comfort of their cells.
CHAPTER 54
Le Mirabel (Ruinand underwater city)
Marathon Bay, Greece
Present day
Vasilis and Katerina were flying into Le Mirabel in a converted cargo plane that carried, amongst other things, a small submarine that would take them to the underwater city. With them was a crew of ten, former members of the Special Forces, including the pilot and the controller of the submarine.
Vasilis had selected a small team. He wanted to get in and out quickly and reduce the risk of detection and alerting the city’s authorities. The plane had special equipment for avoiding detection and for jamming the target city’s radar systems.
On approaching the city the anti-detection measures went into effect. But Vasilis had also arranged for help on the inside. He had enough insiders in important positions to paralyse the city’s defences and security measures with one message. He had already communicated with his spies and had agreed estimated arrival times. They were expecting them.