"The bookshelf," Jimmy said. He pointed to a space upon the shelf where several books were missing, having been placed upon the desk. Jimmy went over to the shelf and reached into the empty space, feeling around with his hand. "Jackpot," he said, as a click sounded and the shelf swung away to reveal the door behind it. He aimed his laser at the lock. "This should only take a second," he said and pressed the firing stud. The beam of light shot out for a moment and then he switched it off. He tapped the door with the palm of his hand and it swung open.
"Hold it right there!" someone said in English. Jimmy bolted through the door. Tonio made the mistake of reacting. He started to spin around and fire, but nothing happened. There had been a brief flash of light and he heard a thump on the floor at his feet. Wondering why his laser hadn't fired, he looked down and saw his hand, still holding the weapon, lying on the floor.
He came to and found himself sitting in a chair, tied down securely. The room he was in was dark, the windows shuttered and covered with blankets so that no light seeped in. He could just barely make out several figures in the room, one of them seated backwards on a chair several feet in front of him.
"Good morning," said the one sitting before him.
"My hand," mumbled Tonio.
"We left it on the desk back in Jack Bennett's house," the man said. "If Doc ever gets back, he can use it as a paperweight."
Tonio's mouth felt funny. He was having a hard time waking up and clearing his head.
"Oh, by the way," the man said, "we found your little cyanide capsules. Nice traditional touch. Your mouth feels funny because you're missing two molars. Our dental work isn't exactly top-notch quality, but that's the least of your worries."
"Mongoose?" Tonio felt lightheaded, wrapped in fog.
"Surprise, surprise," the agent said. "Right the first time. Adrian figured they'd send me, did he?"
"Bleeding…" mumbled Tonio.
"See to his mouth," said Mongoose.
Someone approached him and pried his mouth open with his fingers. Tonio tried to bite him, but received a stinging slap across the side of his head for his trouble. It seemed to him that he was moving in slow motion. Once again, the fingers pried open his mouth and he felt them reaching in, swabbing at where his teeth had been.
"We gave you a little shot, Tonio," said Mongoose. "We've already had a short chat, but you might not remember. You were still out of it. Blood stopped?"
Tonio tried to feel with his tongue. "Think so," he slurred.
"Good. You know there's no point in fighting it, of course. You're going to tell us everything. If you try to fight it, it will just take a little longer, but not much longer. You know I'm right, don't you?"
Tonio nodded.
"Good. I know you're feeling a little woozy, but all you have to do is tell us what the plan is and we'll give you another little shot to make you sleep."
"Going to kill me," Tonio said, thickly.
"No, Tonio, no one's going to kill you. I realize that there's no reason for you to take my word for it, but all you have to do is think about it for a minute and you'll see I'm telling you the truth. I could kill you, of course, but I'll get points for sending you back alive. It makes the agency look good. We'll just have us a nice little chat and we'll give you something to make you sleep and next thing you know, you'll be waking up in a nice warm prison cell back in the 27th century. Free room and board for the rest of your life, unless you decide to opt for re-education and enlistment in the Temporal Corps. No sweat, nice and easy."
"Nice an'easy…"
"Riiight."
"Nie an' easy…"
"What's the plan, Tonio?"
"B'ingham…"
"Buckingham, right, we guessed as much. Go on."
"M'us'teers… Di'mon stus…"
"All right, now we're getting somewhere," Mongoose said. He turned to the agents standing behind him. "We'll have this wrapped up by tonight." He turned back to the terrorist. "All right, we know that the musketeers are going to be sent out to retrieve the diamond studs from Buckingham. What's Taylor going to-"
Tonio suddenly jerked back in his chair. Blood began pouring from his ears, mouth, nose and eyes.
"Son of a bitch!" Mongoose jumped up, toppling his chair. Furiously, he kicked the chair across the room. Tonio's head lolled grotesquely against the back of the chair he was tied to. Blood dripped down onto his clothing, made droplets on the floor.
"What the hell happened?" said one of the other agents, rushing up to inspect the body. "How could he-"
Mongoose turned away. "Explosive implant," he said, flatly. "Detonated by remote control. Poor bastard probably didn't even know about it. Those tooth capsules were there just to throw us off. Taylor hasn't missed a trick."
"Jesus."
"I took a long shot and it backfired," Mongoose said. "We should've taken Bennett right from the beginning, instead of using him as bait."
"Want us to bring him in now?"
Mongoose nodded. "Yeah. Bring him in. But don't be rough with him. He'll probably be very glad to see you. He's got no friends now and he'll be scared. I think he'll want to talk."
"Suppose he's got one of those explosive implants, too?"
"Not a chance. Taylor would've detonated it, instead of sending people after him. No, good ole Doc Bennett's probably the guy who did the operation. It's nice and simple. A little shot while you're asleep and five minutes later, presto, walking time bomb."
"Some doctor."
"You're wasting time. I want Bennett in my custody before nightfall. He gave us the slip with that clever secret passageway and it may cost him his life. Get out there and find him before Freytag does."
"You know what I've been thinking?" Finn asked Lucas.
Lucas belched and patted his stomach. "What?"
"I've been thinking that we got a raw deal. We soldier our damn buns off and all these characters ever do is drink and brawl and screw. Some life, huh? Join the king's musketeers and get paid for raising hell."
They had joined the musketeers for dinner at Moreau's Tavern and, after stuffing themselves until they couldn't possibly eat another mouthful, Finn and Lucas sat kicked back against the wall, sipping wine and watching as Porthos and D'Artagnan regaled the crowd with an impromptu demonstration of the finer points of swordsmanship. Several tables had been pushed aside for the two to occupy the center of the room, where Porthos was discoursing upon the advantages of the Parisian style of fencing over the Florentine style. The Parisian style, as defined by Porthos, consisted of holding a rapier in one hand and a wine goblet in the other. He kept up a steady stream of chatter as he parried D'Artagnan's playful thrusts with exaggerated flourishes of his sword and Moreau's customers were loving it, guffawing, shouting "Well struck!" and pounding on the tables.
Aramis, emphasizing that he was preparing for the clergy, occupied himself with trying to convert the prostitutes. One at a time, he took them upstairs to lecture them upon the virtues of clean living and piety.
"I keep thinking about what Mongoose said," said Lucas. "I just find it hard to believe that one of the musketeers could be an impostor. Surely, it can't be D'Artagnan. Porthos seems like the real thing, all right, and Aramis-"
"If one of them is an impostor," said Delaney, "I'd say that this is our most likely candidate, right here."
Athos came back to the table, having left to get more wine. He sat down heavily and set several bottles on the table, bottles that were refilled periodically from casks Moreau had in his cellar.
"This wine is swill," said Athos, "but my throat is parched and I'll settle for almost anything. Come, Francois, Alexandre, drink up. It's our duty to get rid of all this garbage so Moreau can go out and buy some decent wine."