"What the hell does that mean?"
"You can venture into a volcano about to erupt, but you can't handle a simple button. You're quite a complex creature."
"On the contrary, I'm as simple as they get."
Eden shook his head. "I don't think so. In the meantime, I need to try to find Jacques."
"I'll track down Perron," said Jake.
"Come on," Shane said, tugging at Will's jacket. "You and I are on security duty." He glanced up at the walls of the palazzo. "Cameras everywhere. The security room should be this way."
Will turned to Luca. "You okay here?"
Luca nodded and asked Eden, "You have the stone?"
Eden patted his jacket, indicating the stone was tucked safely in the inside pocket. "And you have the book?" he asked Luca.
Luca patted his own jacket. "Safe and sound," he said.
Although the boys had argued that the stone and the book stay in the Professor's possession in Vienna, the Professor himself had insisted that the items go with the boys. If they found the second stone, they could decipher the code quicker if they had all the pieces in the one place.
Luca winked at the others now. "I'll have the motor running as soon as you guys have outstayed your welcome."
With that, Eden, Jake, Will and Shane disappeared among the party guests.
Eden meandered past women dripping with jewels and men dressed in the finest Mediterranean
haute couture
. He walked slowly, looking not for a face because everyone's face was concealed behind a mask. No, Eden was looking for more telling features—features he once knew very, very well: the shape of a young man who would've now been twenty-six, if Eden remembered his birthday correctly; he looked for shoulders that were broad from swimming and diving; an ass that was solid and strong, able to kick his legs and propel him through the water, sometimes with ease, sometimes to escape a predator twice his size; and hands that were strong and tough, the hands of a man who had spent most of his life in the water, unafraid of sharp coral reefs and tropical fish with razor-sharp fins.
But apparently, Eden's own features were just as identifiable.
"Eden?" he heard a voice from behind him. "Eden Santiago?"
He turned, and there behind a sapphire-blue dolphin mask, was a man he could not mistake anywhere. "Jacques Dumas," Eden smiled.
The two men rushed forward and hugged each other warmly, firmly. "God, I've missed you!" Jacques breathed in his melodic French accent. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Eden tried to speak, but the words stalled in his mouth. He had a lie all worked out—that he was here with an old biology professor who was on a lecture tour through Europe—but even with the mask on, when it came to telling Jacques a lie, Eden couldn't do it. In the time they had spent together on the Galapagos Islands, not a single false word or emotion had passed between them. Eden suddenly decided he wasn't about to ruin that now.
"Circumstances," he offered vaguely.
"Do you know my uncle?" Jacques asked.
"No." Eden finished his glass of champagne in one gulp. "You never even told me you had an uncle."
"That's because he's not really worth talking about," Jacques said. "My God, how long has it been? It's been too long. I wrote you, you know. Did you get my letters?"
Eden nodded. "Every one of them."
"But you never replied. You're busy, I know. We've got a lot to catch up on. What do you say we start right now? I spent summers here as a kid. I know a quiet corner of this mansion that nobody knows about." At that moment, a waiter swung by, and Jacques not only took two glasses of French champagne, he grabbed a whole bottle as well. "Come on, what do you say I steal you away and you and I catch up. I want to know what you've been doing. I want to hear it all. God, I've missed you so much!"
Jacques' passion, his beautiful smile, the genuine joy that radiated from him, made Eden remember why he had fallen so in love with this man in the first place, all those years ago. He wondered why he had let such a love slip away. Was it work? Was it complacency? Or was it—circumstances?
Jake ventured inside the palazzo where hundreds more party guests mingled, drank and spoke in dozens of different languages. He side-stepped into a group of beautiful women laughing at a joke someone just told.
"Excuse me," Jake said, awkwardly stamping out their laughter. The women didn't mind. They could tell immediately from his New York accent, from the shape of his jaw, from the tussled black hair, that behind the lion's mask was a handsome American. They smiled.
"
Ciao
," purred a girl in a Cleopatra mask.
"Hi there. I'm looking for Monsieur Perron. Have you seen him?"
The girls giggled, and then Cleopatra said, "
Non parlo Inglese
."
Jake knew what this meant, and, concentrating as hard as he could, managed to say, "
Sto cercando il Signor Perron
."
To this, the girls laughed even louder.
"Your accent is terrible," Cleopatra smiled. "But you're very cute. Perhaps after you see Pierre, you'll come back and join us for a drink?"
"Perhaps," Jake lied.
Cleopatra ran a long slender finger down his jaw line. "Pierre's in his study. Upstairs. I think he's working on a new project. If he is, tell him he's being very boring and rude, missing out on all the fun. Tell him that from Giselle."
"I will," Jake said, pulling away.
Cleopatra, now known as Giselle, grabbed him by the arm. "Promise you'll come back?"
"I promise," Jake lied again.
Giselle let him go, and the girls all giggled again.
Jake found a wide marble staircase and jumped the steps three at a time to arrive at the upper level of the palazzo. There were fewer guests up here, only four or five, seeking solitude or an intimate romantic moment. Jake slipped past them all, heading down the hall and turning a corner to see a door guarded by two large men.
"Goons," he said to himself. "This must be the place."
He walked up to the door and, as he expected, was stopped by the two large men, one of whom pressed his big palm against Jake's chest to stop him in his stride.
Jake lowered his lion's mask. "I'm here to see Monsieur Perron."
"Do you have an appointment?" asked the man with his palm on Jake's chest, his English relatively good.
"No," Jake said. "But I know he'll want to see me. Tell him Jake Stone is here."
The goon frisked Jake and found no weapons, and then spoke softly into a wrist microphone.
Ten seconds later, the doors to Perron's study burst open and Pierre Perron himself stood puffing on a cigar, a grin from ear to ear.
"I don't believe it! I thought I killed you," he muttered in astonishment, and then suddenly, he burst into laughter. "My God, you're even more stubborn than I thought. Are you here to kill me? Because if you are, I'll tell my friends here to break your neck right now."
"No," Jake said calmly, "I'm not here to kill you."
"Good! Then come in! Come in!"
He invited Jake into his large ornate study, ordering the two goons to wait outside, shutting the doors behind them. There was a beautiful antique mahogany desk at the far end of the room, huge leather chairs everywhere, one wall filled with volumes of books, journals and maps that Jake was sure Perron had never read, and a vast balcony overlooking the lights of the Grand Canal.
Perron pointed out the surveillance cameras in the room. "Just in case you do have plans for me, it would be unfair of me not to let you know we're being watched by a roomful of my security guards. After all, the last time I saw you—"
"—you tried to kill me." Jake finished for him.
"Technically it wasn't me who fired the spear," Perron chuckled with a shrug. "I simply gave the order. Cigar?"
He offered an open box of cigars to Jake.
"I'd be insulted if you didn't take one," Perron insisted. "Look at the label."
Jake picked out a cigar and saw
Stone Cigars
written on the label.
"Are you trying to flatter me?"
"I'm always trying to flatter you. That is, when I'm not trying to kill you. That's what I love about our relationship, Mr. Stone. It's complex. So many layers. So many textures. Like a good cigar, wouldn't you say?" Perron tossed Jake his silver lighter. "Tell me what you think."
Jake flipped open the lighter and lit the cigar. He took a puff and coughed a little. "It's strong," he said.
"Well noted," Perron laughed.
Jake slipped the lighter into his pocket without thinking. Perron was so distracted by Jake's presence, he didn't even notice.
"So," the fat Frenchman said, sitting back in the large armchair behind his desk, "if you're not here to kill me, then what
are
you doing here? I don't recall seeing your name on the guest list."
"That's because it wasn't."
"Such audacity. I suppose that's what I pay you for to fetch me my treasures. To dig holes. To find those long buried bones. Just like a dog." Perron smirked patronizingly. "Tell me, Mr. Stone, what kind of dog are you exactly?"
"Not yours," Jake said, his face serious.
Perron laughed. "You could have fooled me. Tell me, have you already spent the hundred thousand I gave you? Is that why you're here, to ask for more?"
Jake stepped forward and stubbed his cigar into an ashtray on Perron's desk. "Let's cut the bullshit, Pierre. I'm not here to kill you. I'm not here on anyone else's agenda. Either I walk out of this place with the money you owe me, or I walk out of here with the Devil of Kahna Toga."
Perron's eyes narrowed, a little suspicious. "Someone else's agenda?" he asked. "Why would you say that?"
"No games," Jake warned. "I got a two-inch hole in my side where my patience used to be. Now tell me where the Devil is or pull your checkbook out of your drawer now. It's one or the other."
According to the blueprints the Professor had shown them in Vienna, the palazzo's security room was located on the ground level, in the south wing of the mansion.
Will and Shane made their way swiftly but discreetly through the milling crowds, past women in witch's masks and men dressed as demons. They found a long lonely corridor stretching off the main vestibule that led to a closed door. There, a man in a black suit guarded the door. Will and Shane walked purposefully toward him.
"
Arresto
," the guard said firmly.
Shane looked at Will without breaking his stride. "Did you understand what he just said?"
Will shook his head. "No idea."
They walked faster and faster toward the guard, who quickly panicked and reached for a pistol stashed in the back of his trousers. But before his fingers had a chance to touch the hilt of his weapon, Will and Shane rushed him, both men ramming their shoulders into the guard's chest and slamming him hard against the wall, instantly winding him.
The guard collapsed, gasping for air.
Before he could get his breath back, Shane laid a swift punch straight into his jaw, knocking him out cold.
"Nice work," Will observed before kicking the door to the security room open.
The two guards inside the room instantly jumped up from a console of monitors and radio equipment. Will and Shane rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind them. Shane took on the taller of the two guards, Will handled the other.
Will threw a high kick and the toe of his shoe connected sharply with the guard's chin, knocking him backward.
Shane dealt a blow straight to the taller guard's face, collecting him in the cheek. The guard reeled back before responding with a fist in Shane's eye. Blood splattered over the collar of Shane's shirt.
"Hey!" Shane blurted angrily. "This tux is brand new!"
And with that, he slammed his hardest punch yet straight into the guard's nose.
The guard's head jolted, he staggered backward, and then collapsed unconscious against the bank of monitors.
At the same time, Will threw a right hook, and then a left, into the second guard's face, nailing him against the wall and knocking him out cold with one last upper cut.
The guard slid down the wall and came to rest on the floor.
"The last guy I did that to ended up giving me a blowjob in the shower after the game," he said, stretching his now bruised knuckles.
"No time for that sort of thing tonight," Shane said.
Will glanced at the bank of monitors, and one in particular caught his eye. "Try telling that to Romeo," he said, nodding at one of the screens.
Shane looked at the monitor to see Eden in his silver crescent-moon mask stroll into a small and intimate stone courtyard with a man he could only hope was Jacques Dumas.
The small, intimate stone courtyard was something of a secret, hidden beyond several walls and walkways within the palazzo.
"I used to come here as a kid and hide whenever my family came here to visit. Nobody ever comes here. Nobody but me."
"It's beautiful," Eden whispered.
Indeed it was. The stone walls were draped in deep green ivy and glistening moss. There was a fountain in the middle of the courtyard, and at one end, several stone steps led down into a man-made grotto where the blue waters from the Venice canal lapped and played. Light reflecting off the water danced in graceful shifting shapes on the walls and ceiling of the grotto.
Jacques pulled off his mask, kicked off his shoes and socks, rolled up the legs of his suit pants and stepped down into the waters up to his knees. "I used to dive in here as a kid, you know. I went in search of lost coins and trinkets and anything else I could find."
"Did it make you rich?" Eden asked, taking off his own mask, shoes and socks before walking down the steps into the water with Jacques. They both sat down on the cool stone steps with their feet submersed.
"I fell in love with the water, it made me who I am today," Jacques replied. "So I guess the answer is yes, it did make me rich. Do you ever miss our days on the Galapagos?"
"Yes," Eden said without having to think. "You haven't changed, you know."
"You have."