CHAPTER SIX

"I'll be back soon," smiled Marcel at the beautiful young woman. He brushed a curl from her forehead, smiling at her as Kelsey and Ally took her vitals. She was lying back on the sofa in the gar?onnière. She gave him a weak smile.

"Will you come back here?" she asked, holding his hand.

"If you wish me to be here, I will be here," he said gallantly.

"I wish it," she said softly. "The way you speak is so elegant. I think I could listen to you speak forever."

"I hope you get your wish," he whispered. He bent slowly, kissing her forehead, and then stared at her for what seemed an eternity.

"Hey, Romeo, let's go," smiled Gaspar.

"I'll be right there. I'll bring your clothing back for you. Is there anything else you would like?"

"No. Just you."

He nodded and left the cottage with Gaspar and Nine. As the men stepped inside the SUV, Marcel stared at the open seat and fine leather. He'd seen the vehicles many times but had never dared to go into one. Especially not in solid form.

"Just try it, Marcel," said Nine.

Carefully, he lifted one leg and placed his foot inside the door on the floor mat. He was surprised to feel solid footing. Sliding onto the seat, he brought his other leg inside the vehicle and then shut the door.

"This is a marvelous machine," he said, staring at it.

"They are marvelous machines," grinned Nine. "Now, let's see if we can get you inside this marvelous machine and off the property."

"What will happen if I can't? I mean, will I become a ghost again?"

"I wish I knew, Marcel," said Gaspar. "This is a first for all of us. I hope you stay just as you are because I think Amy is becoming incredibly fond of you."

"And I her," he said, holding the door handle, waiting for what he believed would be the inevitable. Approaching the gate, they waited until it was fully open and then slowly drove through, all eyes looking into the backseat. When he was still there as they hit the main river road, they let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, that's one test passed," smirked Nine. Marcel nodded, frowning at the men.

"I am confused by many things right now, but I am most confused by the connection of my painting at Prometheus and Amy, if it's connected at all."

"Did you start Prometheus?" asked Gaspar.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. I always came back from my explorations and was paid well by the crown. Sometimes, I took more than I should have, but it was always to give to those less fortunate. I thought if I had a legitimate organization to provide funding to, the crown wouldn't notice.

"Prometheus was the Greek god who represented human striving, particularly the quest for scientific knowledge and the risk of overreaching or unintended consequences. I identified with that as well. Amy's ancestor was a good shipmate and excellent friend. He was much like her. Honest, sincere, a good family man. I believe he had three sons. I'm happy that he saw to keep my dream alive."

"You know, maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day, you're going to need to tell her," said Nine.

"How? How will I tell her that I was born before this country became a country? How shall I do that?"

"Brother, I have no idea, but in any relationship, there should be honesty above all else." Nine noticed the strange look on his face, then realized something. "Marcel? Have you been in a committed relationship with a woman? Did you have a fiancée or girlfriend?"

"No. I did not have the time nor the interest. I sought the company of ladies who were able to service me, and I could pay them and thereby provide a service to them. No prostitutes or whores, only women who truly needed the money to support themselves or their children. But I saw no point in marrying. I am, I was young."

"Well, a few pieces of advice for you. Always speak the truth unless it's a question where the answer might hurt her."

"Such as?"

"Such as, does this dress make me look fat?" said Gaspar.

"Why on earth would any woman ask that!" he exclaimed.

"Good question and no one knows the answer to that, but don't answer the question. Find something else to speak about. Never leave one another in anger. Talk through your issues, resolve them quickly. Tomorrow may not come. Love one another fully. If you choose to have a relationship with Amy, do it all the way or not at all. Don't string her along and leave her hurt."

"I would never do such a thing," he said with a strange expression. "The truth is, I'm not sure if I will be forced to leave or not. I feel a pain in my chest when I'm not around her, like a gaping wound that's bleeding. When I'm near her, my heart beats furiously, as if I'd just finished a horse race and won. When I saw her in that bateau, I knew that I had to try and save her. I have always been able to kiss the waters of our bayou with my feet, but I have never been able to touch solid human things, let alone a human. I prayed to Matthew and Irene to help me."

"And they answered your prayers, or someone did," said Gaspar. He shook his head, leaning on his fist against the window of the door. "I don't know all the answers, Marcel, but I do know we are now near New Orleans, and you are still with us. So, for now, at least, it appears you can travel wherever you like, whenever you like. I'd say that's a great start."

It felt strange to Marcel to enter a woman's home without her being present. Nine and Gaspar acted as though it were second nature to them. They opened the door, strode inside, and immediately began filling suitcases with her clothing.

"Are we taking it all?" asked Marcel.

"What would you prefer?" smirked Nine. "Should we leave some here, indicating that she would need to come back at some point, or should we take it all, indicating there will never be a reason for her to leave Belle Fleur."

"I believe I prefer the second option," he smiled.

He gathered her makeup and toiletries, having seen similar items in the bathrooms of the others. As he walked into the small living room, kitchen/office combination, he noticed her computer flashing on her desk.

"Nine, Gaspar? Is her computer device supposed to be doing this?" he asked. Nine walked over to it and shook his head.

"No. It definitely is not."

There was a warning sign on the screen with skull and crossbones and a constant stream of warnings about not turning the computer off, the virus will infect everything, and that the owner should call the number. Gaspar stood behind him, tapping his comms.

"Code? Are you and Hiro in town yet?"

"A little busy here."

"Fuck," he muttered.

"Nine, I'm available," said Tanner.

"I'm going to snap a photo of a screen. Tell me what the fuck to do," he growled. A few seconds later, he heard Tanner's reply.

"Unplug it all and bring it with you. It's them. Whoever did this to Prometheus is now chasing Amy."

"Are they here yet?" asked Code, walking into the children's shelter.

"Not yet," said Asia. "What do you want us to do?"

"Nothing. I want the two of you out of sight. We'll handle this, but we don't want them to see you or know anything about your connection to the shelter."

"But they spoke to a woman, Code. They'll be suspicious."

"I'm going to bet that they never even ask. They're just going to want access to the system."

"Car is pulling up," said Bull. "Whiskey and I will be in the office. Asia, you and Molly head upstairs."

Code sat at the desk, frowning at the computer as if to indicate that he was confused by whatever was happening. When the two young men walked in, he stood from his chair.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"We called earlier about a problem you're experiencing with your software," said the young man.

"Oh, yeah," said Code. "My boss said someone was coming to fix it." The man walked around him, staring at the screen.

"Oh, shit, yeah, this is a nasty malware virus. I'm going to need some time to get it off and clean your drives, wipe out the cache, that sort of thing." Code stared at him, trying to look confused.

"Don't worry about it," said the other man. "We've got it taken care of."

"Why two people?" asked Code.

"Never mind," said the second man, "just point me to your servers."

"Never mind? This is a pretty big deal, and I don't want to do anything wrong. Why do you need my servers if this is just malware? I have software that protects against that."

"See how good it works. You need me to get to your servers. Where are they?"

Code stood to his full height, the width of his chest seemingly expanding as he stared at the two younger men. He folded his arms over his chest and turned his head.

"Whiskey? Bull?"

"Whiskey and Bull? What is that? Code for you don't know what you're doing?" laughed the two men.

"No, fucker," growled Bull. "It's code for I'm going to break every bone in your fucking body."

He gripped the back of the first man's neck the second he tried to run. Whiskey tripped the second one, then stood on his back, crushing him face-first into the concrete floors. Code sat back down at the computer, placing his malware and virus anti-corruption drive into the system. He tapped a few keys, watched the virus be eaten alive, then cleared the system. The two men just stared at him.

"Yeah, asshole. I know what the fuck I'm doing. Who are you, and who sent you?" he asked. Both men shook their heads, refusing to give him any information.

"We can do this another way," said Whiskey. "In fact, it's my preferred method where I break one of your fingers for every time I have to repeat myself. Who the fuck sent you?"

"No one!" yelled one of the men.

"Someone sent you, asshole. Who?" asked Bull. When neither man answered, Bull and Whiskey snapped the thumb of the right hand of each man. Screaming at the top of their lungs, they begged to be let go.

"Not happening. Who sent you?" After a few seconds, the index fingers of both men snapped.

"Please! Please, I'm begging you. Stop!" cried the man beneath Whiskey.

"Who sent you?" he hissed into his ear.

"We don't know. That's the truth. We get an e-mail telling us to go somewhere and to get information from the computer."

"Why?" asked Code. "Why come in person? Most viruses and malware can get the information off remotely. Why show up?"

"W-we ask the business owners to put in their information as we're sitting with them."

"What the fuck does that mean?" asked Bull.

"It means they're basically making the business owner give them the information they need to rob them blind, except they don't have to beg for it. It just happens. Little fuckers are feeding them a line of shit about their systems. The owners put in all the right passcodes and bingo. The doors are open."

"Who. Sent. You." Bull snapped the entire hand back on the man. Between crying and screams of agony, he repeated that he didn't know.

"Where is the e-mail that was sent to you?" asked Code.

"In m-my pocket. On my phone." Code opened the phone, holding it up to the man's face for identification and unlocking, then found the e-mail. He also found several other interesting e-mails, all from anonymous senders asking them to infect companies, people, organizations, even the government.

"You've been a busy fucking terrorist, haven't you?" he growled.

"I'm not a terrorist!"

"You agreed to send a trojan virus into the government's computers," said Code. "Well, let me show you what we do to people like you." He connected the man's phone to the computer and began rapidly typing.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing?"

"Me? Oh, see, I'm about as genius fucking geeky as you get. And I have a team even better than me. Like way better. Right now, we're sending an e-mail back to the anonymous sender, and he's opening it. We're reversing the hack and the virus, and his entire system is about to be wiped out in three, two, and one. Done.

"That's how it's fucking done. In about thirty seconds, he's going to call this number, and I'm going to answer. He's going to be incredibly pissed off that everything he's been working on is now gone. Completely wiped out. He has no more records, no more trails to follow. But I do. I have everything he ever worked on."

"There's no way! No fucking way!" yelled the man.

"I'm that good," grinned Code. Right on cue, the man's phone rang. "What's your name? Name." Bull pressed down on the broken bones, and he screamed.

"Ray."

"Thank you for calling Ray's phone. He's busy right now," said Code.

"Who the fuck is this?"

"Me? Oh, I'm the man who just used Ray's phone to wipe out your system and give it the nastiest virus ever, but not before I stole everything off of it. Thank you for that, by the way."

"You have no idea who you're dealing with. None!" he screamed. "You will be dead by morning."

"Doubtful. But listen carefully. We will find you, and when we do, not only will you die, but so will anyone who works for you, your family, your children, your parents, your cousins, everyone. They're all going to die. Slowly."

The line went dead, and Code held the phone away from his ear, staring at it.

"Well, that was rude."