Ruse: Etoile: Chapter 1

[amichan]

 I walk through downtown, munching on the brioche Belle threw at me, slip down an alley on my way to meet Henri and Mercy. It gives me the opportunity to charge and destroy "The Rising Bun" bakery bag. Power is becoming very handy for evidence obliteration, that's for sure. Don't need to be rolling up with a bag declaring proudly that I was visiting Belle when she was on a task and I was supposed to be—well, not visiting her, that's about that.

Despite my detours I get to the rendezvous early and sit on the back of a bench reviewing the small amount of info I was sent a few hours ago. It's a photo of an ugly—interesting looking blue and gold necklace; but I'm guessing I have to steal it not wear it.

After a few minutes the blue Ford Fusion pulls up and I slip into the back of the car. Mercy is driving and Henri hands me a thick manila envelope—the type that fastens with a button and string. He has a similar one on his lap. I squeeze in next to two flight bags and a clear zippered bag that used to house a comforter that has a couple of different shirts in it.

In the envelope is a passport in the name of Amelie Baudin, 2 traveler's checks amounting to a couple of thousand Francs, plane ticket to Paris, and just over four hundred Francs in bills and coins.

"Please tell me we not pretending to be married." I say, as I go through the clear plastic bag and pick out a shirt to wear.

Henri laughs, "Mais non, petite soeur. You and "Marie" here are going to visit your maiden aunt during spring break from school." He turns abruptly as I lift my shirt over my head and take off my bra to change into the baby doll college t-shirt among the clothes.

"Some spring break." I remark.

Mercy has the car on the road, heading towards the airport, "You and me, sis," she jokes, "Family ambassadors."

The baby doll leaves my mid-riff bare. I keep my boots and jeans on, "Sounds good," I tell her.

"This is for you to do," Henri continues.

"Steal de necklace?"

"Get back de necklace."

"Get ba-?"

"Let me finish."

I put my hands up in supplication then start going through the luggage that has Amelie's name on the destination tag.

"Our sources say de necklace was stolen already by a man called Darcineaux. You need to get it from him before he moves it to a broker or gets it to whoever hired him."

"Sounds fun."

"Dis is not a trip for fun, Remy," Henri says, staunchly, "It's an important test. Mer-."

"I'm there to advise and sponsor but not actively participate," Mercy explains.

"Okay."

I wonder which one of them went through my Go! Bags to decide to bring this one. This one has two changes of clothes, some practical but sexy under things, a toiletry bag and a book I had wanted to read six months ago but now don't give a damn about. Need to go through Go! Bags more often. The idea of Henri finding a bag primarily full of lingerie is far too amusing.

Henri coughs at me.

Not being serious enough. Right.

He passes me his phone. There's a picture of a cute brown haired man walking through a crowded plaza. The picture was probably taken from a balcony and was at the limit of the photographer's zoom.

"Darcineaux?" I ask.

"Darcineaux." He confirms.

He has an angular jaw. There appear to be some dark streaks in his hair which is short but partly spiked up, in a tousled way, older though, but eh. There's a younger woman with him, longer hair, both of their features are a bit hard to make out because of the graininess of the picture. 

"Could be hot."

Both Henri and Mercy give me the eye—she through the rear-view mirror, him turning to look at me, craning his neck.

"What?" I ask.

Henri pinches the bridge of his nose, "Are you even listenin' t'me?"

"What?" I ask again, with inflection of innocence, "Necklace. Darcineaux. Serious business. I got it."

"You better."