After she had escaped from her pursuers, she carefully doubled back to the house in the Rue des Fossoyeurs. She arrived in time to see, from the shelter of an alley across the street, the soldiers from the future being led away by the men who had killed Jack Bennett. They were not bound in any way, but then, she reflected, given the sort of weapons these men possessed, there was no need for it. Stealthily, she trailed them to a house in the Rue Servadoni.
She was uncertain as to what she should do next. She felt the laser in her pocket. She wasn't comfortable with so terrible a weapon. She had only used it once, on one of her pursuers, and its effectiveness was frightening. Still, she did not think that she could attack that house all by herself. There were more men in there than she could handle, each with a weapon just as devastating. She would have to bide her time and wait for an opportunity. At least she was relatively certain that the two soldiers were still alive. If the Timekeepers had wanted them dead, they would have killed them instead of taking them prisoner. Perhaps they were being tortured even as she waited. She bit her lower lip. For the moment, she could think of nothing she could do.
As she waited and watched, one of the men left the house and started walking briskly down the street. Perhaps, she thought, this would provide an opportunity. She followed him, being careful to keep her distance and not be seen. The night aided her in her efforts. The streets were poorly lit and full of shadows.
The man she followed was being cautious, constantly checking the street behind him, but in her black clothing, she was easily able to blend in with the shadows. After several blocks, he seemed more confident and did not check behind him, but walked purposefully through an alley and into the Rue Ferou. He walked for a short distance down the street, then slowed to a casual stroll. Andre decided that it was time to make her move. Slowly, she closed the distance between them. Then the man stopped.
Andre pressed herself flat against a building wall. She was so close to him that she could hear the low, almost inaudible whistle that he gave, three short notes, the third one rising, like a bird call. He waited a moment, then repeated it.
She heard an answering whistle, reversing the progression. The man ducked into an alley.
Andre kept to the side of the building, running up to the mouth of the alley. She could hear his footsteps going down the alley, then stop. The night was perfectly still. Somewhere, a baby cried.
Slowly, edging around the side of the building's corner so that she would not be silhouetted at the mouth of the alley, Andre crept into the alley.
"Freytag?" said the man that she had followed.
"Right here," said another voice, and she saw a giant shadow detach itself from the side of the building opposite. She stifled a gasp. The man was huge, monstrous.
"Everything's all set," said the first man. "I think it'll be tonight. The musketeers will probably be leaving around dawn or shortly before then. D'Artagnan was out like a light when we left, but Sparrow will make sure he comes around." He chuckled. "Our phony Madame Bonacieux has that Gascon cretin wrapped around her little finger."
"What about the two commandos?" Freytag said.
"They'll be exactly where I want them. By the time it all goes down, they'll be miles away, galloping across the French countryside with Richelieu's men harassing them every step of the way."
"What about your people?"
"Spread out. Most of them are already in position along the route that the musketeers will be taking. They'll be standing by just to make sure that everything goes smoothly and according to the scenario. As soon as D'Artagnan gets the musketeers together, I'll send our two soldier boys out to join the party. Their story will be that the cardinal's guards were none too gentle in their questioning, but since they didn't know anything, they were released. And of course, they immediately rushed back to see if their friend D'Artagnan was all right. It will give them the perfect excuse to join the musketeers on their trip to London."
"You'd better be right," said Freytag. "Personally, I'm not too crazy about having commandos underfoot."
"Don't worry about them. I told you, I'll take care of it. The refs stuck me with those soldiers, but I've got them so hamstrung, they can't tell the players without a scorecard. They won't be any trouble. I'll make sure they never even get near you and Taylor. How's he holding up, by the way?"
"He's fragmenting. Half the time, I'm not even sure he knows who he is. Part of the reason that he's been so good is that he's always been able to immerse himself in his characterizations, but this time, he's added a new wrinkle. He speaks of himself in the third person these days. He keeps vacillating between being himself, being Milady de Winter, and being some weird combination of the two. I tell you, it's a little scary."
"Can you keep him under control long enough to get the job done? I don't want him going off the deep end on me before I'm ready."
"Frankly, I don't know," said Freytag. "He's very volatile and you never know what he's liable to do next. He killed Darcy, you know. That guy gives me the creeps. Darcy's a bloody mess upon the floor and he pours out some wine and asks me to join him in a drink. I'm the only one he's got left now, so you'd think my position would be pretty well secure, but Taylor's crazy. He doesn't really think that he needs anybody. I could be next."
"You losing your nerve, Bruno?"
"I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a little scared. It's a close game that we're playing. It's pretty goddamn risky."
"I know it's risky, but I've gone to a lot of trouble to set this operation up and we're going to see it through to the end. I'm going to pull this off and I don't need you getting paranoid on me. You pull yourself together and do what you're told."
"Once Mongoose gets his teeth into something, he just doesn't let go, is that it? You know, it's funny how much you and Taylor have in common. I just hope to hell you know what you're doing."
"Count on it."
"Looks like I'm going to have to. I'd best be getting back."
"Goodnight."
"Yeah. Good luck."
Andre dropped to the ground, lying close against the wall, face down behind a foul-smelling pile of refuse. The man whom she had followed passed so close beside her that she could have reached out and touched him. The other man, the one called Freytag, went out the other way.
She remained there for several minutes, thinking furiously, trying hard to understand what she had overheard. What did it all mean? She had become involved in some complicated plot in which it appeared that no one was who or what they seemed. Constance was not Constance, but somebody named Sparrow. Taylor, the leader of the Timekeepers, had become Milady. The man called Freytag was with Taylor, yet he answered to the man called Mongoose. She had heard the soldiers use the name of Mongoose when they spoke of someone who was "in charge." They had wanted Jack Bennett to speak with Mongoose. Mongoose, then, was in a position of authority over the soldiers, yet now it seemed that he planned somehow to betray them, with the help of the man named Freytag. She could make no sense of it. What was going on? Who was on whose side and where were the battle lines drawn?