Click here to read the previous chapter: The Auction.
Click here to read Part 1.
“Is there no security for an auction like this?”
“Sure, the best you can buy, but we took care of that problem ourselves. Well, Boris did.”
“Isn’t this what you expected? We knew the Scalise brothers would make a run at the collection.”
“I thought they would take the easier route and hit the collection as it was being moved to the buyer. If they make their move now, it would disrupt the auction. We would lose the offers.”
Pierre rubbed his jaw, he was beginning to sweat off his disguise.
“You said your mother is here? Just walked in?”
“Yes, with a man. I can’t see her face but I’m sure it’s her.”
Pierre walked to the door, peered out, found Anna Pavlov and quickly closed the door again.
“Her timing was apt.”
I could hear the auction continue on the other side of the wall. The collection was announced and paddle numbers were beginning to be called out, more quickly than the previous pieces. Pierre looked down again at his phone, there was no sign of the Scalise brothers in the hallway anymore which meant they had to be just outside the vault. He called Boris but the line rang just once.
“Okay, you stay here. I’ll go help Boris at the vault. Make sure Mickey draws out the auction best he can.”
Pierre put his hand to my shoulder and squeezed before he disappeared again behind the door. I flattened my dress with my sweaty palms and made my way to an open seat at the back of the auction room.
There were four main paddles still in the mix. Mikolaj and Cecile. Edward, who seemed much more relaxed without his daughter. The overzealous Julian Pourcel. And the man accompanying my mother. It seemed Sam and Julia Stone had tapped out early at 30 million, I guess business wasn’t as booming as it used to be.
“38.9 from paddle 57, do we have 40?” and within the same breath, “40 from paddle 96!”
The sequence continued like that, between Mickey and my mother’s date, with a few interjections from Edward. When the price climbed above 65 million Edward decided to bow out and it became a one on one. My mother seemed unbothered by my presence even though only three seats separated us, she didn’t once turn in my direction. Cecile turned to look back at me several times throughout the process. I gave her a nod to push the pockets further.
“72 from paddle 96, do we have 73?”
No movement. Cecile tapped Mickey’s forearm.
“Do we have 72.5?”
No movement.
“Going once…”
I turned to gauge my mother’s response. Stoic.
“Sold to paddle number 96 for 72 million! The Al Thani Collection in its completion, congratulations sir!”
Gasps and whispers filled the crowded room as people began to rise from their seats to get a better view of the winners. My mother and her escort stood from their seats and turned to exit through the same way they came. I locked eyes with Cecile and quickly moved to follow them, motioning her and Mickey to come along.
When I entered the ball room behind the auction room doors the servers and hostesses began to fill the space. I searched the large room, seeing the final piece of green fabric from my mother’s dress slip behind a curtain to the left. I quickened my step.
Behind the curtain was a closed door, locked when I tried to open it. Cecile and Mikolaj were in front of the curtain when I came out again.
“It’s locked.”
“Did you see them leave?”
“Yes, through that door. We should find Pierre.”
“No time.” Mikolaj turned to the nearest server and grabbed him by the vest.
“Excuse me, sir can I help you?”
“Where does this door lead to?”
“That one there? The kitchen, I just came from it.”
“Why is it locked?”
“It shouldn’t be.”
“Well, it is! We need you to open it.”
“You expect me to have the key?” The man swiped Mickey’s hand away and continued to serve the guests.
“Mickey, are you or are you not the King of Keys?” Cecile questioned demandingly.
“Oh, right you are my sweet lemon pie.”
He brushed us aside and went behind the curtain to work on the lock.
“What’s your mother doing here? Did you see her dress? And that veil.. Gorgeous! And who’s that man? So tall and mysterious.. She really knows how to live.”
“How many drinks did you have?”
“None!”
“Ladies,” Mikolaj whispered from behind the curtain. He had made quick work of the door and we were easily into the kitchen.
We searched for another way out, zig zagging between the chefs as they continued to assemble their hors d'oeuvres. One of them started to yell at us in Dutch but we blew past him towards the massive pantry in the back of the room. Mickey entered first and disappeared behind the steel standing shelves. We followed him to an open door against the back wall. He stuck his head through the doorway for a peak before flinging the door open and calling gently for us to follow.
Behind the door ran another underground alleyway that seemed to be making its way up to ground level. A bit of streetlamp light polluted the right side of the bricked tunnel.
“Why would they leave so quickly after purchasing the collection?”
“Why would your mother want to buy the collection she just paid Pierre to reassemble?”
Mickey and I stood five strides apart. He was looking at me differently, when he would look at me. He was pacing.
Heavy footsteps came from farther down the tunneled alley. Cecile’s excitement rose when we realized it was Boris. I looked behind him for Pierre.
“Did you see them?”
“Who?”
“Pierre! The Scalise brothers! Who else? They hit the auction’s holdings cellar with some sort of incapacitating agent just before Pierre got there. He woke me but I couldn’t keep up.”
“Oh!” Cecilie gasped and moved towards Boris.
“Incapacitating agent, how resourceful.” Mickey said, staring at me the same way he would when he was creating my costume for the auction.
“What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that to our knowledge the Italians have been cut off from their support, but somehow they managed a heist using chemical warfare. At least to some of our knowledge.”
“That is hardly chemical warfare,” mentioned Cecile.
“What are you insinuating?”
“Someone needs to go after Pierre!” Boris raised his voice. His face was red and he seemed to be fighting against the pain in his vocal chords.
“I guess I am the only one with eyes that can see, so I should go after him ya? Since no one else understands what's going on in this stupid foreign tunnel in this stupid foreign city. I leave Poland to get out of the cellars and here I am!”
Mickey took off in the direction Pierre was meant to be heading. I followed closely while Cecile, who was helping Boris along, fell more and more behind.
“Anna! Anna, we have to stop!” Cecile’s yell echoed off the bricks and into the nothingness.
I looked at Mickey and slowed my pace as he continued on. I turned back and saw Boris on the ground, Cecile kneeling and cradling his head.
“He’s bleeding! I have to stop, he’s bleeding!”
She waved me off when I started to come towards her.
“There’s nothing for you to do, Anna.”
I left them there and went after Mickey.
The yellow light from the streets above danced in and out of the metal vents as I ran. I could hear someone yelling. Over and over. When we got closer I could tell it was Pierre. He sounded hysterical. Mickey took off faster down the tunnel.
“Anna! Stop!”
Over and over he yelled, until suddenly he was there. Mickey stopped. Pierre’s silhouette faced away from us with both hands out in front of him. He seemed to be pleading, bending towards the light that showered down from a vent. As I came up behind him I could see my mother, standing on the other side of the light, at the bottom of a staircase. A man was climbing up the stairs next to her, holding two armored suitcases at his sides. Pierre yelled again and Anna Pavlov turned, stepped down one step with her left foot, and brought her hand to her veil and lifted it, exposing eyes that looked so much like my own. Then she raised her right hand from her coat and shot twice into the tunnel.
The bullets sparkled once as they passed through the street light before ripping through Pierre’s chest. Blood painted my face as he fell back between us. I went towards him. Mickey yelled something but I felt I couldn’t hear him, then he turned and ran after my mother.
Pierre seemed calm and laid still with his hands over his wounds and they filled with blood. His eyes searched for me then followed my face, shifting with my expressions. I tried to take off his coat but he stopped me with a strong hand on my wrist. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the blood. How could there be this much blood?
“Mickey!” He yelled, without breaking from my eyes. “Mickey!” The second time with more urgency. He brought his other hand to my face and it came away a beautiful deep red.
Mickey’s feet were quickly at our side. Pierre held my face in his hands and suddenly I realized he was the one kneeling.
“Fuck.” Mickey said, bending down to Pierre’s level.
Pierre took off his jacket and laid it beneath my head on the damp concrete.
“Your chest,” I said. But nothing seemed to come out.
“We need to stop the bleeding.”
“Where’s Boris? We need the van!”
“Pierre, the bleeding.” Mickey was calm.
“We need the bus! Don’t you see? We need something, now!”
Mikolaj shook his head and turned towards the stairs. I could see diagonally up through the vent, onto the street. The light flickered as a car passed above. Small drops of dirty rain water gathered themselves on the edge of the metal before dripping down. I watched them splash in the lone puddle and imagined their sound. Pierre layed next to me, flat. His breathing was heavy and he tried to catch it.
“You hear that, Anna? Mickey is getting a car. We’ll get out of here okay. We’ll find Boris and we’ll leave Holland before the sun comes up. I’ll make a call and get us a plane, we will be in Paris in a matter of hours now.”
He gently squeezed my hand.
“And once we're in Paris we can go anywhere. Forget the Italians, the collection. Forget your mother. You can take me home, show me your university, show me where you strengthened ton bel esprit. I want to see it all. Huh, ma cherie? How does that sound?”
“Pierre, I can't carry you both. One of you has to go first unless you can walk.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and felt Mickey lift me and headed towards the stairs. I looked back to see Pierre laying flat in a puddle of blood. Up on the street Mickey laid me down in the back seat of a sedan. He wiped my face clean with a handkerchief.
“You’ll be okay. I am so sorry," he said.
“Go get Pierre!” I tried. Mickey didn’t seem to hear me. He got out of the car and closed the door. The driver started the car and we moved away from the curb. Mickey followed the car for a moment then he was gone. I could see the walls of the alley through the window, then they were gone too.
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