Simon Hawke - The Pimpernel Plot

“You don’t think that one of-”

Finn held a finger to his lips. “Not in front of the boy,” he said. Finn had noticed that the boy had stopped his wailing and was only sniffling now, watching them fearfully. “It’s all right, son,” said Finn. “Nobody’s going to harm you now.”

“Come on,” said Lucas, helping the boy up. “Where is your mother, do you know?”

“No,” the boy said, pulling away from him as Lucas tried to help him to his feet. “No, don’t touch me!”

“It’s all right, “ said Lucas, pulling him up by the arm as the boy struggled with him. “We won’t hurt you, I promise you. Don’t be afraid. There’s nothing-”

Something fell to the floor with a thump and Lucas glanced down to see a pistol lying on the floor.

“What…”

The boy jerked away and pulled another pistol from inside his tattered jacket, swinging at Lucas with it. Instinctively, Lucas blocked the blow, but the boy had twisted free from his grasp and he quickly made for the door. Finn leaped across the room and brought the boy down with a flying tackle.

“Merde!” screamed the boy. “Let me go, you big ox! Let me go or else I’ll kill you! Let me go, I said! “

He squirmed in Finn’s grasp like a little fish, kicking and clawing at Finn’s face in an effort to get at his eyes.

“I’ve got him,” Lucas said, grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck and hauling him to his feet. “All right now, you little hellion, you’ve got some- HUHHH!”

He doubled over as the boy brought his knee up hard into his groin. The blow made Lucas release his hold upon the boy and he tried to run again, but Finn kicked his feet out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor. Immediately, the boy was up again, but this time Finn brought him down with a right cross to the jaw and he fell to the floor again, unconscious.

“Little bastard,” Delaney said. “You all right, Lucas?”

Still doubled over and clutching at himself, Priest looked up and nodded, his eyes wide with pain as he fought to get his breath back.

“How do you like that little son of a bitch?” said Finn. “There was never anybody else in here, he did it all himself.”

“I hope you didn’t kill him,” Lucas wheezed.

“If I did, it’d serve him right,” Finn said. “Don’t worry, I didn’t hit him very hard. He should be coming around in a little while. We’d better get out of here, though. I think we’ll take this little sniper with us.”

He picked the boy up and threw him over his shoulder. “Come on,” he said. “Straighten up and let’s get out of here.

If anybody says anything, my ‘son’ here got knocked down in the crush outside. We’d better get word to the boys waiting in the square that the whole thing’s off and have them get back to the boat.”

“I’ll take care of that,” said Lucas, still feeling the effects of the knee to his essentials. “Where will you be?”

“At Fitzroy’s safehouse. I want to ask this kid a few questions. I’ve got a sneaking suspicion that I know who that ‘old women’ was.”

“You shouldn’t have brought him here,” Fitzroy said.

“Relax, Major,” Finn said. “He doesn’t even know where the hell he is. Besides, I was in a hurry and there wasn’t any time to make other arrangements.”

“I sent you to rescue the Marquis de Leforte, and not only did you let him get away, but you beat up a little boy. I’m very disappointed in you two.”

“If you’ll recall,” said Finn, “the whole idea was for Leforte to get away.”

“As for your disappointment in us, Fitzroy,” said Lucas, “you know what you can do with that. This wouldn’t have happened if you had provided proper mission support. If you had issued us the right equipment, we could have-”

“Impossible,” Fitzroy said.

“Look here, Major,” Finn said, drawing himself up to his full height and glowering at the Observer, “in case you’ve forgotten, this isn’t a standard adjustment anymore.”

“If you’re referring to Mongoose,” said Fitzroy, “I already gave you your orders concerning him. He’s to be left to the TIA team that will-”

“And where the hell were they just now?” Finn shouted.

“They should already be here,” said Fitzroy. “They have nothing to do with this adjustment mission. Their target is Mongoose. Your orders are to-”

“I’ve had about enough of this,” said Finn, grabbing Fitzroy by the throat and slamming him against the wall.

“Have you lost your mind?” Fitzroy croaked. “ I could have you court-martialed for this!”

“So what? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He’s coming around,” said Lucas.

Delaney shoved Fitzroy into a corner and went over to the bed, where the boy was beginning to stir.

“All right, kid, wake up,” said Finn, slapping the boy’s face lightly.

“Get your filthy hands away, you dogfucker!” snarled the boy, sitting up quickly and slapping at Finn’s hand.

Finn grabbed him by his thick black hair and jerked his head back so that it hit the wall behind the bed.

“Now listen here, you little shit,” he said, “I don’t give a damn how old you are. If you’re old enough to kill grown men, you’re old enough to be killed like a grown man, you understand me? Now you shut your mouth and do as you’re told or I’ll break every bone in your scrawny little body!”

The boy glared at Finn malevolently, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Good,” said Finn. “I’m glad to see we understand each other. Now what’s your name?”

“Jean,” said the boy, sullenly.

“All right, Jean,” said Finn. “You behave yourself and you might live to get out of this room. You helped an enemy of the Republic to escape. You know what the penalty for that is. France is-”

“You are not French,” the boy said with a sneer. “You are English spies! I heard you talking.”

“You speak English?” Lucas said.

“Only a little,” said Jean. “I did not understand all that you said, but I know English when I hear it spoken!”

“You see?” said Fitzroy. “I told you you should not have brought him here. This place is useless now.”

“I do not care whether you are French or English,” said the boy. “It is all the same to me. Under the aristocrats, I starved. Comes the Revolution, still I starve. It is all the same to me.”

“Then why did you kill those men to help Leforte escape?” said Finn.

“Because I was paid well to do it. He gave me fifty francs! For such a sum, I would kill Robespierre, himself.”

“Bloodthirsty little savage, aren’t you?” Finn said. “Who gave you the fifty francs?”

“I do not know his name,” said Jean. “He called himself the Scarlet Pimpernel.” Suddenly, the boy looked alarmed and he clapped his hand to his waist, his bravado gone for the moment.

“We didn’t take your money,” Finn said.

“It is for my brother and myself,” said Jean, submissively. “Please, monsieur, Pierre and I have not eaten for days.”

“Where are your parents?” Lucas said.

“Dead.”

“And your brother?”

“I will not tell you! You can kill me, but I will not tell you where Pierre is!”

“Relax,” said Finn. “We’re not interested in you or your brother. I want to know about the man who gave you that money.”

“There is not much that I can tell you, monsieur.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Finn. “What did he look like?”

“About his size,” said Jean, indicating Lucas with a jerk of his head. “Not thin, not heavy. Dark hair, dark eyes, a moustache like so,” he said, indicating by pantomime a generous handlebar moustache. “Thick eyebrows meeting in the center of his forehead. He was dressed like a gentleman and he favored his left side, as though he were injured there.”