They had driven for a solid twenty-four hours, speeding down mostly vacant highways that were far off the beaten path, but the next time the sun rose, it met them crossing the Mississippi River. They had made remarkable time and would reach their destination within the next few hours at their current pace.
"What can we expect?" Vitus asked. It was Philip's turn to drive, and Vitus sat beside him. Hayes and Jenn were in the back, once again arguing over team names.
"When there's an emergency at one manor, the rest will know about it," answered Philip. "Most of the regular employees, cooks and the like, will be gone, but the security force will be prepared for any visitors. They should all know me, so there shouldn't be a problem. The worst case scenario would be total control of the manor by hostile forces. In that event we'll embrace a little tactic Hayes likes to call guns a-blazin'. You will need your weapon, and unfortunately, simply wounding your enemy will not be a luxury we can afford this time."
Vitus nodded. "Understood."
"So you sat on it?" Philip asked.
"The settee? Yeah."
"How did it feel?"
"Surprisingly comfortable for a piece of furniture over three hundred years old," said Vitus. "But if you're asking if it felt special or magical somehow, not really. But, yes. It's hard to explain. I guess it's easy to believe and easy to hope when you want something so much."
Philip nodded.
"Anyway," said Vitus, changing the subject rather abruptly, "are we going to be ready for tonight?"
"I think so. I recommend using the manor as base of operations. We'll get what we need and prepare for the op."
"Op. Wow, really? That sounds like some covert stuff."
"Not really," said Philip. "I just like abbreviating. It really doesn't save much time when I have to explain that, though."
"Right, sorry. So any plans for the raid?"
"Actually," said Philip, "I was hoping you might have an idea."
"Me?"
"You have more experience dealing with Ivanovich. You must know the kind of weaknesses this man has. We need to hit him hard, and you're our best shot for figuring out exactly what that entails."
"I see," said Vitus. "Well, he has always been proud of gaining everything he has through legitimate means. At least, that was before I knew he was a sociopath. If you really want to hurt him, instead of simply destroying his warehouses and hitting him financially, I think we should take what he has and fence it, making sure he knows what we've done."
"Really? There are black market antique-dealers?" asked Philip.
"I just found out the other day that there are Canadian pirates. Which one really sounds harder to believe?"
"Point taken."
"Anyway, I know a couple of guys. They're hard to find, but if I make enough calls, I can track them down. Ivanovich basically went on a crusade against them a few months ago when they were selling some vintage Russian clothing without the proper documentation. It's a risk when you buy from them, but their product is more or less as promised. If, say, Ivanovich's collection ended up in their hands and he was presented with an offer to purchase it back at a less than reasonable rate, I think he would put two and two together."
"So your black market guys, they'll definitely buy the goods off us?"
"Definitely. They hate Ivanovich with a passion."
Philip smiled. "That's a good start," he said. "You can start making calls when we reach the manor and see if we can't arrange a meeting tomorrow."
By mid-afternoon, the crew of the truck named Bess was within sight of Mobile Bay, they followed the coast until they reached a place called Côte Verte not far from Mobile. According to Philip, here they would find one of Jacobi's manors. The journey there reminded Vitus of the area surrounding Costa Verde. They turned from paved roads to gravel roads to dirt roads and back to paved roads once again. The manor at Côte Verte was enormous and beautiful. It waited for them behind heavy wrought iron gates, which were locked tight. Vitus parked in front of them, letting Philip get out and find the control panel.
Vitus caught a glimpse of something parked in the distance on the manor's grounds--a tractor-trailer. He yelled for Philip and pointed toward the truck. Philip nodded. It was no normal trailer. Something very large was attached to the cab and covered by a massive tarp. Philip found the control panel for the gates and punched in a long numeric override code, and a voice crackled out over an intercom system.
"Who's there?" asked a voice.
"Philip Renard and associates."
"Philip? Thank God you're all right. There's someone here to see you."
"Who?"
"It's Big Mike. He says he's here to help."
Philip smiled. Their luck, it seemed, had finally turned around.
"What can we expect?" Vitus asked. It was Philip's turn to drive, and Vitus sat beside him. Hayes and Jenn were in the back, once again arguing over team names.
"When there's an emergency at one manor, the rest will know about it," answered Philip. "Most of the regular employees, cooks and the like, will be gone, but the security force will be prepared for any visitors. They should all know me, so there shouldn't be a problem. The worst case scenario would be total control of the manor by hostile forces. In that event we'll embrace a little tactic Hayes likes to call guns a-blazin'. You will need your weapon, and unfortunately, simply wounding your enemy will not be a luxury we can afford this time."
Vitus nodded. "Understood."
"So you sat on it?" Philip asked.
"The settee? Yeah."
"How did it feel?"
"Surprisingly comfortable for a piece of furniture over three hundred years old," said Vitus. "But if you're asking if it felt special or magical somehow, not really. But, yes. It's hard to explain. I guess it's easy to believe and easy to hope when you want something so much."
Philip nodded.
"Anyway," said Vitus, changing the subject rather abruptly, "are we going to be ready for tonight?"
"I think so. I recommend using the manor as base of operations. We'll get what we need and prepare for the op."
"Op. Wow, really? That sounds like some covert stuff."
"Not really," said Philip. "I just like abbreviating. It really doesn't save much time when I have to explain that, though."
"Right, sorry. So any plans for the raid?"
"Actually," said Philip, "I was hoping you might have an idea."
"Me?"
"You have more experience dealing with Ivanovich. You must know the kind of weaknesses this man has. We need to hit him hard, and you're our best shot for figuring out exactly what that entails."
"I see," said Vitus. "Well, he has always been proud of gaining everything he has through legitimate means. At least, that was before I knew he was a sociopath. If you really want to hurt him, instead of simply destroying his warehouses and hitting him financially, I think we should take what he has and fence it, making sure he knows what we've done."
"Really? There are black market antique-dealers?" asked Philip.
"I just found out the other day that there are Canadian pirates. Which one really sounds harder to believe?"
"Point taken."
"Anyway, I know a couple of guys. They're hard to find, but if I make enough calls, I can track them down. Ivanovich basically went on a crusade against them a few months ago when they were selling some vintage Russian clothing without the proper documentation. It's a risk when you buy from them, but their product is more or less as promised. If, say, Ivanovich's collection ended up in their hands and he was presented with an offer to purchase it back at a less than reasonable rate, I think he would put two and two together."
"So your black market guys, they'll definitely buy the goods off us?"
"Definitely. They hate Ivanovich with a passion."
Philip smiled. "That's a good start," he said. "You can start making calls when we reach the manor and see if we can't arrange a meeting tomorrow."
***
By mid-afternoon, the crew of the truck named Bess was within sight of Mobile Bay, they followed the coast until they reached a place called Côte Verte not far from Mobile. According to Philip, here they would find one of Jacobi's manors. The journey there reminded Vitus of the area surrounding Costa Verde. They turned from paved roads to gravel roads to dirt roads and back to paved roads once again. The manor at Côte Verte was enormous and beautiful. It waited for them behind heavy wrought iron gates, which were locked tight. Vitus parked in front of them, letting Philip get out and find the control panel.
Vitus caught a glimpse of something parked in the distance on the manor's grounds--a tractor-trailer. He yelled for Philip and pointed toward the truck. Philip nodded. It was no normal trailer. Something very large was attached to the cab and covered by a massive tarp. Philip found the control panel for the gates and punched in a long numeric override code, and a voice crackled out over an intercom system.
"Who's there?" asked a voice.
"Philip Renard and associates."
"Philip? Thank God you're all right. There's someone here to see you."
"Who?"
"It's Big Mike. He says he's here to help."
Philip smiled. Their luck, it seemed, had finally turned around.
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