Sometimes people mistake the obnoxious over the top Andre in the Adventures for the one in FLESH, a zombie story at PanHistoria. I don’t think this Andre would make it a day in that universe. They’re very different, but both fun to write.

The rivalry between Britain’s greatest secret agent and France’s greatest secret agent [who is British] is the subject of much speculation. Some say James lobbied to expel Meredith from the Secret Intelligence Service which is how Meredith joined the Direction Générale de la Sécurité Extérieure. [Although he claims to not be involved in any way with the DGSE, we know better.] Others say the animosity began when the two found themselves facing the same target and were unable to compromise on who would claim the capture. Another story harkens back to military days and a dark secret during war time.

None of this is true of course.

It all began no more than 5 years ago in Ibiza. In those days, André was wild and free and loved the clubs. Of course, when one is young, attractive and has a smile so contagious and so angelic it tempts the Devil himself to convert, one is obligated to go out among the masses and share their joie de vivre. André was doing just this on the dance floor when James saw him the first time.

Instantly the man was mesmerized. He made his way through the packed dance floor until he was next to André who paid him little attention. He tried to dance with him and André disappeared among the crowd.

He searched the club until he found André at the end of the bar chatting up his friends. “My name is Bond, James Bond.”

“Bond Bond? Your maman not like you?” André sniffed and focused his attention on a friend hoping the older man would take the hint.

“No. James Bond. And you are?”

“Thirsty.” He rapped on the bar. “Where are our drinks?”

James ordered a martini, vodka, shaken not stirred.

André sniffed. “Is not a martini with vodka. Martini with gin.”

James continued his attempts to engage André in conversation.

Finally André had his drinks. “You I am not interested in. Go away now.”

“What’s wrong with me?”

André looked him up and down. “You are British. Au revoir.”

Later James saw André go to the restroom. He entered at the same time. “You know I’m quite a famous spy.”

“If you are famous you are sucky spy then. I go to stall now. You stay out here. Am not to be your trick. Bye bye.”

As André stood outside waiting for a cab to the hotel James appeared at his side again. “Please tell me what you have against me?”

“You are not my type.”

“What is your type?” James was so desperate to have André he was willing to change anything.

“Tallish, blondish, blue-eyes, swanky British accent. None of it my type. Good night to you.”

Heart-broken and rejected James swore off men forever and found himself in a series of one unsatisfying hetero-relationship after another.

Let us now fast forward

James Bond found himself in Paris with some free time. Such a beautiful romantic city and he had no one to share it with. Everything about the city brought back painful memories of a lovely Parisian man he’d met, or tried to meet, in Ibiza some five years previous.

Eventually he found his way to a small restaurant known for exquisite food. He had heard the owner was British and hoped it didn’t affect the quality of the food. In fact, as we know quite well, the food proved to be so delicious that James momentarily forgot how his heart had broken those years before.

Meredith introduced himself to James. They had a brief conversation, James praised the food profusely, and Meredith said he might be able to let the chef out of the kitchen for a few moments. “But please don’t praise him too heavily. He’s quite conceited as it is.”

As the late afternoon service dwindled and James ate more and more, André and Meredith approached the table. “André, I’d like you to meet-“

“M. Bond Bond!”

“I see you’ve met.” Meredith raised an eyebrow 1/10 of an inch in a show of surprise.

“Many many years ago. Many now.”

James was unable to speak. His broken heart was in his throat choking off his words. He was stunned. This could only be fate to meet up with the man who had ruined any chance he had at love.

“I think you call him ambulance now. He is having difficulty. Oh, I forgot the rabbit it is braising. Do not fire me, Old Man, if I burn the kitchen down. Is your fault.” He kissed the corner of Meredith’s mouth and raced to the kitchen, happy for any excuse to be away from James.

Meredith sat down. “You and André… you didn’t…?”

James shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t have me. He said I wasn’t his type. He doesn’t like tallish blue eyed blonde Brits with nice accents.”

“You don’t say? He’s never minded any of that about me.”

“You and André?”

“Several years now.”

At that moment James’ heart turned into a hard little chunk of stone and fell from his throat to the pit of his stomach. Right then James knew he must have vengeance.

And he must have André.

Later that same night…

“I will see you in about twenty minutes.” André loosened Meredith’s tie. “I’m going to see Christine and get our baguettes for breakfast. Anything special you want?”

“Just you, mon Lapin.” He kissed André’s brow at his hairline. “Don’t stand around gossiping.”

“Me? Gossip? You speak of someone else.” He winked and headed out the door into the alley.

André made it only halfway down the alley before all went dark.

Thirty minutes later Meredith looked up from his book at the steel rabbit clock hanging on the wall and saw how much time had passed since André left the restaurant below. Christine’s bakery closed well before the restaurant, but she often stayed late to get a head start on the morning and always let André in when he came knocking. Yet it was unlike him to take up this much of her time knowing she also kept long hours.

Something was wrong. He knew it. He raced down the stairs, out into the alley, and there in the darkened area between the glow of two lights he saw where a scuffle had taken place. Drag marks led to out of the alley. There were shoe prints. Easily identifiable shoe prints. James Bond had been wearing a pair of Barker Black loafers and Meredith recognized the outline.

“You’ve crossed the wrong man, Mr. Bond.”

Elsewhere in Paris

André pouted as he watched James light what he hoped was the last of the tiny votives on top of the skulls and in the empty eye sockets. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “That not improve the ambience or smell any better.”

James flipped down the top of the lighter and surveyed the chamber with stacks upon stacks of bones and skulls. He found the scene to be quite gothicaly romantic. “I do apologize about the candles. I didn’t realize they were scented or a variety pack. I was in a hurry.”

“Hmmph. Excuses.” André started to fold his arms across his chest in a huff, but his arms were already in that position thanks to the strait jacket. “You are a stupid man. No wonder you must kidnap men if this is your idea of an appropriate place for seduction. It doesn’t matter anyway. I will not be seduced by you. I will not give in to the whims of a pathetic old man who can’t take rejection.”

“I understand French, my darling.”

“Bon! Then I not need repeat unless you are being hard of hearing. And I am not your darling. I am Meredith’s darling.”

“You keep calling me old. I’m younger than your Meredith.”

“Some men age better. Others do not.” He sneezed. “Wait until my Meredith come. He gonna kick your ass, you ass.”

“He’s not coming for you. He’ll never find you. Probably he called the police and left it to them. But he won’t come for you. He doesn’t love you the way I do.”

“True. His love is not some sick perverted thing. He would never bring me to a place like this. We go to the coast and stay in lovely inns. The best hotels. Only two weeks ago for no reason other than to be together he took me to the Plaza Athenee. A weekend away at home. We stayed not in a tomb, but a luxury suite. Alain Ducasse cooked for me personally. I was able to choose my own pillow. The view was breathtaking. The food was exquisite. The bed large and comfortable.” He wriggled around on the clunky wooden chair which had less appeal than an electric chair. The chain from the collar around his neck rattled against the floor where it was fastened.

“But don’t you see, any rich man can take you to a fancy hotel. Would he risk imprisonment for you? Would he throw away his career for you? Has he pined away five years for you?”

“He is pining now if not think about how many ways to bash your face in.”

“He’s not coming for you. He doesn’t love you the way I do.” James grabbed André’s face. “Why don’t you love me?”

“I not even knowing you! I love Meredith. Get out of my face now, M. Bond Bond, before I bite you. I am losing my patience with you. Let me go. Let me out of this thing. My head itches.”

Bond began massaging André’s head. “I can take you far away from here if you would cooperate and not fight me. I could take you to an island hide-away where the two of us could walk along black sand beaches or white sand or golden, whatever you prefer. We could bathe in waterfalls. Bask in the sun.”

“Island hideaway? What are we, villains? I’m not a villain. You’re a villain. You want to take me to your secret lair while you plot to overthrow the world.”

“I am not a villain. I fight villains. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve saved the world?”

André pursed his lips. “You have any idea how much I care? Less than not at all.”

“I’m Britain’s greatest spy!”

André sniffed. The effect was ruined when he promptly sneezed. “Meredith is France’s greatest spy.”

“How can that be possible? He’s British.”

“See? Even you not suspect him.” He sneezed again. “Let me go now. Apparently I am allergic to dead people. If I get a migraine I will not be happy.”

“My love! I would never want to see you in such pain.” He cleared his throat, smoothed his hair back, and began another attempt at André’s affections. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate”
“Non! Non! Non! Not the Shakespeare! Non!” He rocked in his chair. “What is wrong with you? I am French for God’s sake and you recite Shakespeare to me! Meredith. Meredith save me.”

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines.”

“Tais-tois! Ta gueule! Shut your mouth. Shut it now!”

The chair lurched to the side with André firmly strapped to it. James caught him, set him upright, and murmured inane verse to the man who rattled off his protests incessantly.

Lest we think Meredith had simply called the police…

Bond’s trail was easy to follow. He might as well have left a map with detailed instructions. Meredith simply followed the trail of street parked cars with scrapes and dents along the side. Without his expensive intelligent cars correcting for his abysmal driving skills James Bond couldn’t keep a car between the lines if his life depended on it.

The trail of bruised and battered cars led directly to a secret entrance known by all secret agents into the catacombs of Paris.

Once inside the catacombs it was simply a matter of following the scuff marks. He hoped André didn’t hurt James too much. The younger man was quite the scrapper and fought dirty too. And clearly James wasn’t in his right mind.

Meredith strolled along lazily swinging a shopping bag and making a mental note to call Jeanette, the sous chef, as soon as he got above ground again to ask her to be prepared to open the restaurant if this took too long.

Ahead about ten yards the tunnel ended in a heavy door with a sleek black lock with digital readout. Meredith stopped and surveyed the walls and ceiling noticing a series of dimples approximately a foot off the ground.

He rummaged through the shopping bag, removed a pack of cigarettes and box of matches, and methodically opened the cigarette box wadding the cellophane into a tiny ball before dropping it into the bag. He lit the cigarette inhaling deeply and remembered the good old days in the Army when he and his men smoked all they wanted. What did their future health matter when they could get a bullet in the brain or be blown to bits before they could exhale?

Over a third of the French population smoked and the numbers were even higher in the 24 and under age group and he had to fall in love with the one Frenchman who never smoked in his life because it “clouded his taste buds.” Oh well, it was good for Meredith’s health and stamina.

Taking another long drag he lowered to one knee then blew the smoke out towards the floor with force. Red lasers flickered in the cloud. He set the cigarette on the ground, balancing it on the butt, and reached into his bag again extracting a small personal fan and a pack of batteries. As he inserted the batteries into the cheap contraption he focused on the corridor in more detail. There didn’t seem to be any hidden weapons or anything to discharge poison darts or gas. Perhaps the lasers were only meant to alert James to anyone’s presence.

A rat scampered past Meredith into the area of beams. When it got beneath one Meredith set down the fan. “Boo.”

The rat jumped up and was neatly sliced in half by the beam.

“Sorry, rat.” He thumped the cigarette towards the door and lit another which he set beneath the small fan so the smoke would blow in that direction. Cautiously he proceeded down the hallway stepping high to avoid the lasers. He really detested people who did gymnastics across a single layer of lasers. It was overkill really and so much more difficult than just lifting one’s feet higher. As he stepped down his trouser cuff passed through a laser and was neatly burned off. The quiet and gentleness of his voice did not lessen the foulness of his curse.

At the door he examined the computerized lock. It appeared to function only as a lock, again not having any hidden means of death. It required a passcode and a key. From his bag Meredith removed a tub of refrigerator magnets. One by one he removed the black magnets from the backs of the whimsical plastic ladybugs and butterflies and began placing them onto the lock until the numbers began to flicker and he ran out of room. Next he fitted a can of spray coolant with the long slender straw that came taped to its side, inserted the straw into the keyhole and depressed the button on top. As the contents emptied into the lock the magnets began dropping. Meredith’s second mental note was to remember to pick up the magnets on his way out to prevent a rat or other stray animal from eating them and causing painful injury. He had caused enough death for the day – poor rat.

Once the can was empty he slammed it into the lock releasing the shackle.

He tossed the lock aside, kicked open the door, then dropped to the ground and moved away from the open doorway.

A horrid smell of cheap vanilla, plumeria, and lavender assaulted his senses. Was it poisonous gas? Was he too late? Had James killed André in a pathetic murder suicide?

Head almost at floor level he glanced into the room.

Scented candles. How clichéd. André detested scented candles as much as he detested German tourists who acted like they would launch another invasion of France if they didn’t get ketchup with their steak fries.

When he stepped into the room he could not at first see James. His focus was mainly on the condition of his beloved André who wore a strait jacket, a red ball gag in his mouth, a thick black collar with chain, and straps holding him to the chair. He sat calmly with legs crossed, one foot lightly bouncing in growing impatience.

But where was James?

Ah, there, cowering behind André.

“What sort of coward hides behind a Frenchman?” Stepping boldly into the room, Meredith winked at André.

Bond stood up, gesturing with a gun. “Go away. You’re not wanted here. We don’t want you here. Who do you think you are barging in where you’re not wanted.”

“Death. Mary Death.”

André’s expression managed to say so much even with the gag. Meredith knew he would be repeating that line latter for someone’s personal amusement.

“Really, Bond? Is that short for bondage?” He walked toward André. “I must tell you, André-chou is not into things too kinky unless food is involved. His appetite is voracious for such a little guy. Although the gag is nice.”

Bond stuck the gun in Meredith’s face. “Shut up! I hope you’re prepared to die, Mary Death. You can’t have him.”

“Can and have.” Meredith’s smirk was worthy of the French. The smugness was nearly as overwhelming as the scented candles. “And as for the gun… you think you’ll impress him by shooting an unarmed man? Or is it that you want him to know that you aren’t any good without your bag of gadgets.” He rolled his eyes to André. “Not those sorts of gadgets, mon Lapin.”

Bond considered the gun. He considered André. He considered Meredith. He attempted his own smirk which just made him look gassy. “I would say fair is fair, but I’ll still have the advantage over you.” He tossed the gun aside. It discharged when it slammed into the wall.

“Nice, James.” Meredith, who of course did not even flinch when the gun went off, merely shifted his jaw to pop his ears. “Very nice. Ever heard of the safety?”

Bond punched him in the chin. André squirmed in his chair trying to yell out around the red ball in his mouth. Meredith simply rubbed his chin and admired the small smear of blood on his hand.

“Is that it? The best you can do?”

“You think you’re so smug?”

Meredith smiled and affected a Gallic shrug. “What can I say? I live in Paris. What’s not to be smug about?”

James took another swing.

Now it’s true many people assumed Meredith could not be much of a fighter having grown up a rich kid in Hampstead. These would be the people who didn’t know he spent twenty two years in the British Army not on the front lines but beyond them. André knew this so he had no fear for his man as he watched the annoying James take his swing.

Meredith turned letting the swing go wide and caught James’ arm pulling it in the opposite direction his momentum was taking. As James’ right foot lifted up Meredith kicked the left one from beneath him.

Momentarily James’ clarity and years of training in the secret service returned to him. As he fell he hooked a leg around one of Meredith’s sending them both crashing. James hit the floor. Meredith landed in André’s lap.

“Give me a few moments, mon lapin, and this will all be over.” He pulled the gag from André’s mouth, removing the red ball, and kissed him deeply.

“La confiance est excitant.”

“So are you.” Meredith kissed André quickly then lobbed the ball at James popping him in the eye.

Meredith acted swiftly charging toward James until he slammed into his chest, grabbed him around his arms and torso and carried him back into the wall with a great thud and a shower of loose bones and dust.

André sneezed.

“À vos souhaits.”

“Merci, Meredith. Careful.”

James took the only recourse immediately available to him; he bit Meredith.

“Bitch.” Meredith slapped his hand over James’ eyes and nose and pushed his head back and swiftly delivered a kidney punch.

“Destroy him, Old Man. He recited Shakespeare to me!”

“Shakespeare? Not sonnets?”

“Ouias. Sonnets.”

Meredith could only shake his head. No wonder James had to abduct his dates. “Shakespeare is not romantic. Tragic and desperate. I see the appeal it has for you, James.”

James’ response was a punch in the stomach and an attempt to drive Meredith away from him. Meredith simply grabbed him under his shoulders and flipped him over his hip in a classic move anyone who ever thought about taking martial arts would have seen coming were they not as drunk with crazed love as poor James. The man landed at André’s feet.

André uncrossed his legs, turned as much as possible away from James and recrossed his legs. “Shakespeare, hé!”

“André, darling, quit harping on the Shakespeare.” Meredith grabbed James’ leg and drug him awy from André.

“Make me forget.”

Meredith rolled his eyes as he hoisted James to his feet. “Very well. Ahem. Ce que le flot dit aux rivages, Ce que le vent dit aux vieux monts, Ce que l’astre dit aux nuages, C’est le mot ineffable : Aimons!” He smiled. “Shall we skip ahead and say it English, James? Love! whether we praise or blame them Big hearts will always love: Join this youth of the soul To the youth of your brow!” and with that he head butted him and let him drop.

Farewell, James

“I have to say it’s right nice of you gentlemen to give me a lift to the train as well as purchasing my fare.”

André shrugged with hands lifted. “What can I say? We are nice people. And happy to be rid of you.”

“Be nice, André-chou.” Meredith stroked the back of André’s neck soothingly.

“He abducted me!”

Meredith nodded politely at a passing couple. “That’s over with now. No need to be rude.”

“Yes, well, I’m very sorry about that. I hope you’ll accept my apologies.”

In reply André pointed the information board. “I think is your train now. Bye bye.”
“Good bye. And I’m so sorry this happened. I don’t know what got into me.” James backed away from the couple.

“André can drive the best of us insane at times. Pleasant journey.”

They watched James enter the carriage.

“And he claim he is Britain’s Greatest Agent.”

Meredith squeezed the back of André’s neck. “I think Paul Rosbaud may have been the greatest spy for Britain.”

“Who is he?”

“An Austrian. Shall we go?”

“Non! Where is my dramatic ending with the great romantic kiss among the crowd at the train station? I watch the movies you know. I am owed a toe-curling kiss.”

Feeling he was in need of a toe-curling kiss as well, Meredith happily obliged.

He grinned, ready to make his suggestion, and bumped into a very short girl in front of him. “Pardon me.”

She smiled up at him. “It’s all right.”

“Tall people should be more considerate and look out for the short in stature.” André mumbled in his native French as he consulted his guide book. “This is mummy room. They got a special Chinese mummy exhibit.”

Meredith glazed over. To him if you’ve seen one mummy you’ve seen them all regardless of country of origin and at the moment he couldn’t see any of them due to the tour of Egyptology students being lectured by a professor about the Emperor being a Chinese god or some sort of nonsense. The professor, a tall woman with jet black hair so shiny and deep in color her white streaks appeared blue read from an ancient scroll displayed next to the newest bound husk on display. Meredith looked down at André who appeared quite attentive. Great, now he’d want to spend all day in here with the Egyptologists.

What did André care about Egypt or China? As far as Meredith knew André’s Egyptian knowledge was limited to preferring 600 count Egyptian cotton sheets and Meredith was fairly certain his Chinese knowledge was limited to food.

The sigh slipped out.

André elbowed him. “Don’ be rude, Old Man.”

“At least I’m not yawning.”

The students urged the professor into reading the scroll in its native language. The professor made some excuses about no one quite knew how it was pronounced, but of course. Why not?

“You actually find this interesting?” Meredith stroked his cheek and chin and turned his head away to cover a small yawn.

“Fascinating. Shut your mouth and listen.”

Meredith leaned against the wall near the doorway, closed his eyes, and tried not to think about the matinee of the reprisal of The Crucible with Ian Gelder returning as Rev. Parris he was missing. He had suggested they go to the theatre. Since when did André want to do anything even remotely educational or as dull as walking around in a museum?

Something shattered.

Meredith opened one eye and glanced at André to be sure he hadn’t knocked over a priceless artifact. No, he just looked confused as he raised up on his toes to see what happened.

Suddenly shrieks went up and people began flooding towards the open doorways. Meredith reached for André but he became lost in the flow of people. Meredith remained calm as he stood pressed against the wall and kept his eye out for André finally catching site of the mop of messy curls. “What’s everyone running from?”

“As If I could see over everyone else.” André was now pressed to the wall on the opposite side of the doorway.

Meredith looked in the direction everyone seemed to be running from as more glass shattered. The seven and a half foot tall dried up husk of an Emperor swung a staff of some kind into a display case and the mummy inside rose up. Several already stood around the undead behemoth. Another sigh slipped out as he turned his attention to André. He pointed a finger at him. “Now this… this is your fault.”

“Pourquoi? What am I to do with this?” A piece of pottery crashed into the wall above André’s head showering him with dusty shards. André shook his head trying to clear out the bits and pieces. “This is not the fault of mine.”

“I wanted to go to the theatre.”

“Don’t be so juvenile. It’s childish to assign blame. At a time like this one should not point fingers. One should run, don’t you think?” The last of the Egyptologists and tourists fled past them.

Meredith had to agree this was the time to run. He gave André a nod and sprinted through the doorway fully expecting André to be on his heels or surpass him. The young man could run. He claimed it as natural French ability. Instead he found himself running alone. He skidded to a halt and spun to see André flat on his back with one leg raised trying to untangle the long strip of cloth tangled around his ankle. The mummy the bandage belonged to lay near him tugging on the bandage too.

Cursing the entire way, Meredith stormed over to where André lay on the floor. “Need some help, mon lapin?”

“Ouias. S’il te plait.”

The small mummy lurched to its feet. Meredith yanked up on the bandage tripping the mummy. “How did you get it so tangled? How do you do this in three seconds?” He wrestled with the cloth wound around André’s ankle. “Is it something you have to train for or a natural ability?”

“Being puéril does not suit you, my dear. Is up again!”

Meredith swung around catching the mummy in the neck with his fist. He frowned when the mummy did not have the desired reaction of falling back and clutching its throat gasping for air. It didn’t need air. Nor did the mummies behind it. “Damnit!” He yanked up on the bandage again and this time when the mummy hit the floor he grabbed its ankle and stomped down hard on its knee while pulling up, snapping off its lower leg which he tossed to André. “Let’s go.”

André hurried along beside Meredith to a stairwell and the second the door slammed behind him he sat down and began removing the bandage. “Never in all my life did I think I would be carrying someone’s leg around.”

“Yes, well, these things happen.”

André’s mouth dropped open. “Who to? Who do these things happen to?”

“Apparently us.”

Free of the bandage André scrunched his nose as he examined the leg. “This was priceless relic. You better hope they not got you on video destroying it. Musées are not liking people to destroy priceless relics.”

Meredith leaned over, put his nose against André’s and scowled. “It was you or the mummy. And to me you’re priceless.”

As André tilted his head to kiss Meredith the door flew open sending them both tumbling to the next landing. André landed on top of Meredith who shook his head. “Now is not the time, mon lapin.” He stole a quick kiss before shoving André off him and heading up the stairs to engage the mummy. “Find the Egyptologists. There has to be a way to stop this.”

André cringed as he watched Meredith’s fist sink into the mummy’s chest.

“Now, André!”

He fled down the north stairs and burst into the lower level. It was loud with panicked voices unsure of what really happened in the Egyptian rooms. André wove in and out of the crowd of people the security attempted to calm until he spotted the professor. He grabbed the woman’s arms and began yelling at her to tell him how to stop the mummies.

“What are you saying? I don’t speak French!”

André’s right eyebrow shot up. “You speak dead Chinese Egyptian language and not speak French? Tell me now is got to be way to stop the giant mummy. How?”

“There’s an ankh on the sarcophagus. You can’t miss it. That has to be the way to stop it.”

“Merci.” André began to hurry away then spun around. “Just being sure. We talking about sarcophage. Big mummy box, right?”

“Right.”

“Merci.” He pushed through the crowd and took the South Stairs back to the upper floor. Getting momentarily turned around he heard a commotion and followed the sound grabbing a halberd along the way.

He slowed his pace and crept quietly from room to room stepping over once again lifeless mummies and pieces of mummies, broken relics, and shattered display cases until he could peer around into the room where it all started. The room appeared empty of anything living or undead. On the opposite wall stood the imposing sarcophagus with a dull gold ankh clasped across the breast. He scurried across the disaster area, grabbed the loop of the ankh and yanked hard expecting it to be held firmly into place. It wasn’t.

André fell back onto a squirming cat mummy, its arms and legs too tightly bound to do any damage. He rolled over and pushed the mewling creature away from him. So now he had the ankh. Now what? It didn’t come with instructions.

“Hé!” He nearly lost hold of the ankh as he was lifted off the floor. “You cannot be going around lifting people off their feet.” He stared into the glimmering black eyes of the Emperor. “OK. Maybe you can.”

“Put him down now.” Meredith hardly raised his voice, but the command reverberated around the room.

The Emperor put André down, but did not release him. He held the man in a choking embrace.

Meredith took note of the halberd lying several feet from André and the Emperor as well as the squirming mummy cat. He grimaced recalling scenes from ‘Eraserhead’ and hoped their hotel didn’t offer porridge in the morning. “Not what I meant. Quit picking on the little guy and take on someone closer to your own size.”

“What’s with the little guy crack? Was that necessary?” André wriggled around enough to see Meredith standing there quite calmly covered in dust and bits of rotted bandage.

“Shut it, André-chou. This is between me and him.”

“I am between you and him!”

Meredith pinched the bridge of his nose. “I can fight this thing or I can bicker with you. I’m not going to do both.”

“Pardon. Commence with the fighting.”

“Thank you. And don’t forget this is your fault.” Meredith heaved a sigh, raised his head and addressed the Emperor. “Let me be more precise. Let him go right now or you’re going to wind up like all your little minions.”

The Emperor wrapped his other arm around André and began to squeeze.

Meredith calmly looked around the room and nodded at a section of tomb wall to the Emperor’s left. “So all those nubile concubines were they just for show?”

André couldn’t help himself, he laughed. The laugh was quickly cut off as the enraged Emperor flung him to the ground and lunged for Meredith.

Meredith dove over the rubble, rolled, and popped up with the halberd in his hand. The mummy staggered off balance when Meredith wasn’t where he expected. “What’s with the ankh?” Meredith raised the halberd and ran forward onto the rubble pile swinging at the Emperor’s neck.

“The professor lady said it would stop the mummy monster. Meredith!” He watched in horror as the blade of the halberd stopped at the mummy’s neck as if hitting a steel wall and the jarring shock caused Meredith to lose his balance, fall, and slide down the rubble.

The Emperor grabbed Meredith by an ankle and hoisted him up. Meredith reached out to André. “The ankh, please.”

André tossed the ankh underhanded and was relieved when Meredith caught it. He did not want to have to go anywhere near that thing to try to get the ankh. It was big. It was scary. And it smelled.

With his free leg Meredith punched his foot into the Emperor’s stomach to no effect. “All right. How do I use this? What do I do?”

“Je ne sais rien à ce sujet! I forgot to ask.”

“Details!” Meredith yelled as the Emperor swung him around by his ankle and let loose launching him into André. “Important details.”

“Here is a detail.” André began to tell Meredith that he not only could he not breathe with Meredith crushing him, but he had the terrifying feeling that the mummy cat was beneath him. Instead he shared another important detail. “Mummy is about to crush you. We. Us. Tu et moi.”

Meredith wrapped himself around André and rolled them both out of the way before the lid of the sarcophagus came crashing down in the spot where they just lay putting an end to the mummy cat.

“Ow! Ow! Ow! You are stabbing me with that thing!”

“What? ” Meredith saw the ankh had changed. A blade protruded from the lower end. Ah, no instructions necessary. A halberd may have not done any damage, but this little relic was special.

Meredith got to his feet and sighed again as the Emperor charged toward him. Of course a little diagram showing exactly where to stab the mummy might prove useful. As the mummy reached towards Meredith’s throat he noticed right in the center of the creature’s chest was a ring of stones each with a strange little ideogram. Meredith translated it to mean “Stab here” and drove the pointed end of the ankh into the center of the stones while ducking below the mummy’s arms.

The Emperor jerked upright and began to stagger about as blue flames spread from his chest.

Meredith jerked André to his feet and raced for the door. “I don’t think we’ll want to be here for the rest of this.” As they rounded the corner a blue blast surged through the halls.

The ever speedy André had managed to blaze a trail through the crowd on the ground floor and was hailing a cab by the time Meredith reached the exterior stairs.

A few moments later Meredith slid into the taxi. “No more museums?”

André shook his head. “No more musées.”

“What are we going to do for Bastille Day?” André handed Meredith a cold drink and leaned over the balcony to see if the bakery on the corner was still open.

“Go out dancing, get drunk, and watch the fireworks”

“We did that last year.”

“We do that every year.”

“Then let’s go somewhere.”

“We just went to New York so you could see the Fourth of July fireworks.”

“Yes, and it was very nice of you to go seeing as how your ancestors were brutally overrun by Colonists and French alike. It’s no wonder you choose to live in Paris. That sort of defeat is hard to live down.” André who had his back turned to Meredith because he was waving to people on the street, missed the scowl his lover shot him.

“Being French you would know about defeat.”

André faced him. “Are you bringing up us losing an Empire when you have lost entire continents? So soon after going to the States for their Independence have you forgotten the French victories over the British? Have you forgotten your Cornwallis surrendering to Rochambeau and Lafeyette?”

“I believe Cornwallis surrendered to Washington.” Meredith sipped his drink and knew he should just let André’s babbling run its course, but couldn’t allow his revisionist history to run unchecked.

“Tchah! That what they want everyone to be believing.” He brushed dark curls from his eyes. “Cornwallis saw the white uniforms with their blue braids and he knew he had lost. ”

“Easy for you to forget the Battle of Savannah.”

Only a ploy to make your British forces think we were unprepared. The Battle of Chesapeake is proof of that. And were it not for de Grasse what would have happened at Yorktown? We defeated the Hessians there too. The British were crying and drunk at their humiliation. And you are wrong, Cornwallis did not surrender to Washington.” He leaned forward and placed his hands on the arm rests of Meredith’s chair. “Cornwallis’ man tried to present his sword to Rochambeau. Who would not accept it. Washington would not accept it. It was accepted by Washington’s second in command. Why? Because Cornwallis was unimportant.”

“What have you been drinking?”

“Is all true.” André moved his hands to Meredith’s arms. “We had great ships in battle. The Ville de Paris. The Auguste. Languedoc. Vengeur du Peuple.”

“The Ville de Paris was taken by the British fleet when Admiral Rodney defeated de Grasse and the French fleet. And the Vengeur was later defeated by the HMS Brunswick.”

André stared at him. “That did not happen in the American Independence which is of what I speak.”

“Really? Is that what we’re talking about? How did we get on this? I just wanted to do something different for the National Celebration.” Meredith had grown tired of this discussion of history and battles and defeats. Let André hold on to his French victories from an era past. They had little to celebrate in the past century when it came to military victories, and Meredith knew his military history. The real version of it. Not the patriotic spin that André could put on anything.

“We are talking about this because you said I would know about defeat, but I know of the victories. Your mind is clouded because of your many years in the British Military. You do not recognize the greatness of the French Military.”

“One word for you, André-Chou, Waterloo.”

“Pah! Napoleon was born on Corsica. Had he been born on the Mainland the whole world would speak French. Still, he didn’t do bad for an island boy.”

“You live in a special world.”

“Ouias, Paris is very special.” André flashes his smug grin. “Say what you will about French losses. France, to this day, claims the greatest victory over the British Army.”

Meredith shook his head. “Nothing comes to mind. What is this great victory?”

“You. I captured you.” He pressed his lips to Meredith’s. “Vive le France.”

Our adventure takes place near Beziers where the attractive couple had taken a cottage in an isolated stretch of coast for a fortnight. One may ask why they ever took holidays when André always seemed to find himself involved in some mishap whenever the two traveled. The only explanation to this is that love makes a man stupid and André does so love the local treat, Riquets de Béziers, and Meredith loves the blissful expression on André’s face when he first bites into the layers of crunchy nougat.

On this particular day, André and Meredith had driven into Beziers so that André might have his treat while Meredith sampled the excellent Cataroise. They lingered perhaps a little longer than planned as they often did where good food was concerned, making it well past dark when they headed back towards home in their small rental car. [André had wanted to rent a Smart car because they always made him laugh, but Meredith refused on the grounds that he would look ridiculous getting out of one. He’s never claimed to be modest; André’s conceit merely outshines his own.]

The road was narrow, unmarked, unlit, but neither cared as the night was beautiful and the company handsome. They drove slowly, possibly Meredith had sampled more of the sweet wine of the region than he intended, and spoke little as they made the journey.

“Isn’t that the field the sheep were in?” André sat up and squinted into the darkness. “I do not see the sheep.”

“Maybe they’ve all gone home and gone to bed. It’s rather late.”

“Tcha. You and your nonsense. You’re really quite silly sometimes. Do you know that? Not always so serious. But even though you are an old man, I am not a child. Sheep do not go home to sleep. That is there home. That field there. I suppose there are other fields. Sheep lie down to sleep, don’t they?” André pressed the button to roll the window down and made an aggravated noise when nothing happened. “Did you put the window lock on again? I’m no more amused by that than the child lock. Why are you stopping?”

Meredith stared at the dashboard which had gone dark. “I didn’t stop. The car stopped.”

“It just stopped? Chut. All right, we’ll walk then. It’s beautiful out. All the stars. Let’s walk. We can cut through the field and make it shorter.”

Not feeling inclined to attempt to diagnose the car’s problem at this hour or even at all, that’s what memberships in auto clubs were for, Meredith pushed the car safely to the side of the road, and he and André climbed the fence into the field and began discussing their plans for when they returned to the cottage.

André was telling Meredith he regretted not purchasing sweet cream while in town because he suspected his sweet tooth had not been fully satisfied and it would be a nice addition to their plans when he saw an orange light flash across the sky above Meredith. “Did you see that?”

“The pitchers of sweet cream? Yes, remember I was the one at the counter paying when you-“

André pinched Meredith’s wrists. “Playing dumb does not suit you, my love. That’s my schtick. No behind you. There was a thing. A light. It went zip and zoom.”

“No. I’m sorry I was unable to see the thing behind my head. What did it look like?”

“An orange light. Not all the way round. Not even round. It was like, round here and square there. Like a Madeline.”

“Sounds fascinating. Now let’s keep moving. I hear your sheep and they don’t sound happy.” He placed his hand on the back of André’s neck and urged him forward.

“They are not my sheep. Sheep make good sweaters and they make baby lambs which are quite tasty, but I have no use for sheep other than to provide cute scenery on a road trip.”

Meredith was about to ask André if he perhaps drank a little too much sweet wine when André’s eyes grew wide and he pointed to the left of Meredith’s head. “There. It went by again. Slow and then zipped away. That is not my imagination. It is not wine. Or my eyesight or anything rational. There is something up there in the sky. Our car stopped. It just stopped you said. I’ve seen the movies. I’ve gone to the websites. That is a UFO.”

“OK. You saw a UFO. Keep going.”

“You believe me. I thought you would disagree with me and say there’s no such things as UFOs.” A very pleased André forgot the slight bit of fear he felt at seeing the object in the sky as he slipped his arms around Meredith’s waist and kissed him.

“It’s flying and you don’t know what it is. Therefore it’s an unidentified flying object, to you.”

André bit Meredith’s chin. “I want my kiss back. It was extracted under false pretenses.”

“I think I’ll keep it.” He folded his arms around André’s shoulders and despite his refusal to return he kiss was scanning the edges of the field for a secluded area when he saw the missing sheep. “I think we should return to the road. I think there’s a farmhouse or an inn quite close. Yes, we should return to the road and go to that house.”

“No. We can’t go to a house in the middle of nowhere like that. Especially not an inn. Not after you made me watch Frontière(s) with you. No, Old Man. We stick to our path and go home, sweet cream or not.”

Meredith spoke in a calm and reassuring voice. “André-chou, I don’t want to upset you or cause any unnecessary concern, but, well… turn around and look slightly to the left.”

André turned. “What am I supposed to be looking at? I see some grass, a rock, no poop, some trees, a white pyramid thingie, farm equipment, and … wait, that thing. That’s … sheep don’t do that. Are those performing sheep? Can sheep do that?”

Meredith was certain that even if sheep could be trained to stack themselves up in a pyramid shape they wouldn’t do it at night, alone in a field, without their trainer bribing them to do it. It wasn’t as if performing sheep practiced in their off hours. Besides, he’d seen one being put onto the pile. Before he could suggest they retreat as quietly as possible, André did the most remarkable as well as remarkably stupid thing. He began to head towards the pile of sheep.

“I’m going to take a picture of this. You wait there. Your hair stands out in the dark.”

“Are you insane?” He could only stand there as André crept closer. A part of him really wanted to get a picture of this as well as see how close André had to get before he came to his senses. He was certain as soon as André saw the dark creature assembling sheep he would turn and run. But André crept closer. “Il est fou à lier.”

André crept as close as he thought necessary to get a good photograph without the flash, raised the camera, and a split second before he pressed the button to take the picture two things occurred: First, he realized he had not turned off the auto flash and second, he saw the creature arranging the sheep.

The flash lit up the scene and reflected in the very large slanted oval eyes of the small alien which dropped a sheep which ran towards André. It then ran after the sheep while André stood there doing the very important thing of checking to see if the picture turned out because now he understood why people never got good photographs of alien encounters.

Meanwhile Meredith, thinking André was petrified with fear, raced to save him only to be blinded by a searing orange light, and then repeatedly hit with flying sheep. The last thing he saw before blacking out was a slender figure rising up in a beam of light and a slender figure racing off into the trees.

 And he would definitely have to ask why the wine had been left with him. Perhaps a gift? A nice little aperitif if they planned to have their in-flight meal soon? Only André could explain why he did anything.

 Sipping the wine Meredith looked about. André’s seat revealed no André, only his book which he never seemed to finish reading, Et Apres by Russo or was this a different book?

 A flight attendant approached him with the stylish First Class bag sporting a selection of DR Harris products. “May I get you anything, Mr. Pike?”

 “Thank you, I have this.” He indicated the glass of wine still in his hand. “Would you happen to know the whereabouts of my partner?”

 She glanced at the empty seat and smiled pleasantly. “M. Couteau is, I believe, in the washroom.”

 “Thank you.”

 Meredith went to another washroom, changed out of the incredibly comfortable pyjamas provided by the airline and used the toiletries [there was nothing like flying First Class], returned to his seat, and looked over the options for breakfast. Deciding to put off breakfast selection until André joined him, he picked up André’s paperback and began to read. Several chapters and a refill of coffee later he realized André had still not returned.

Meredith looked toward the washrooms and wondered what André could be doing all this time. Had he decided to join the Mile High Club on his own and was having difficulties? The thought brought a smile. That would be amusing, but not like André at all. Probably André had slipped out of the washroom at some point and gone to the lower classes to spread his joy or sneak them better food.

 He returned to reading his book knowing André was safe and sound on the plane somewhere.

 “Ah, you like my book? I think it’s very interesting. Most of his are entertaining.” André plucked his book from Meredith’s hand and plopped into his seat.

 “Where have you been?”

 André waved a hand in the air. “Around. Exploring.”

 “Enjoy yourself did you?” He handed the breakfast menu to André and took a good hard look at him. André wore a black turtleneck, black jeans, black shoes, and a black knit cap which smashed his hair down in a halo of dark curls. “In your explorations were you attacked by a bunch of Beatniks or Mimes?”

 “No. Is preparation.”

 Meredith nodded. “Preparation. Obviously. How could I not know that? Preparation for what, mon lapin?”

 “The Ninjas.”

 “Of course. Ninjas.” He smiled at the Flight Attendant who stopped and tried very hard not to stare or laugh at André. One did not laugh at a person who paid that much for a seat on a plane. Meredith and André gave her their breakfast orders and once she left the conversation continued. “What Ninjas, André?”

 “The ones wait for me in the airport.” André found his place in the book after carefully marking Meredith’s with a slip of paper. “They are clever. Well, ninjas are not so clever. They are skillfull. But Evil Masterminds are clever and I think they know the hustle and bustle of the airport is a perfect place to abduct me.”

 No wonder André had left the glass of wine. He knew Meredith would need it and he did. He drank all of it before proceeding. “Why are ninjas going to abduct you in the airport?”

 “Were you not listening to me, Old Man? Do you need hearing aids? We’ll get you the digital ones. They are more discreet and less likely to ring.” André placed his hand flat against Meredith’s cheek. “I just told you that the airport is a perfect place. It’s busy. It’s chaotic. I am easily lost in a crowd.”

“Yes, darling, I heard that. I don’t need the hearing aids. Why would ninjas want to abduct you at all?” Meredith removed André’s hand and kissed his palm, smooth and warm and smelling faintly of almonds.

 “I ask myself this. Merci.” He beamed at the Flight Attendant who set their breakfast trays in front of them. “Always am asking, why is the ninjas try to get and take me to their lairs. I have no answer other than they are so to be still upset of the North Dakota incident.”

 “Ah, yes, well, North Dakota. Of course.” Meredith added a touch of cream to his coffee, stirred, set down his spoon, and slapped André across the back of his head sending the knit cap flying.

 André retrieved his cap and refused to speak until after their breakfast.

 “Now that you have recovered your senses…” He sniffed. “I am always being abducted, because of you and your clandestine employment. Tchut! Do not interrupt me, monsieur. I listen to you. I am not saying they are going to abduct me. I am saying the airport is an ideal place to do so. I learned this from you. Think ahead. Plan. Be aware. Although you never seem to believe me when I warn you I’m going to be abducted.”

 “André, I apologize deeply and you have no idea how much I regret not believing you about that woman at the resort. I honestly had no idea and this trip really was planned as a nice holiday. Not part of some secret job.”

 “That what you say.” André’s spoon rattled against his mug as he mixed more cream into his hot chocolate.

 “It was just a holiday.”

 “Hmph.”

 “The next trip you may plan and then I’ll be free of these accusations. So, please, now explain why you’re dressed like that.”

 “Is disguise. When I see Ninjas and I have seen so many they can hardly be sneaking up on me- I am practically ninja by association- I am to pull down cap, put on gloves and be one of them. They no get me this time.”

 Meredith could only shake his head. Usually he preferred André to speak in French, but what he had just said would sound idiotic in any language.

 * * *

 Customs had been handled at the layover in Heathrow. They arrived in Terminal 2a without incident. No ninja attacks or any other types of incidents beyond a tourist scuffing Meredith’s shoe with his oversized carry-on bag.

 “I’m going to the-“ Meredith pointed towards the restroom. “Will you be all right on your own?”

 André scanned the people milling about. “I think I will be all right.” He tapped his head, shifting the knit cap. “I am prepared.”

 “Yes.  Prepared. Don’t wander off then. I’ll be right back.” He squeezed the back of André’s neck, kissed him lightly, and went to the washroom.

 Being suspicious, not by nature, but by necessity, Meredith eased open the restroom door and looked around before fully entering. He strolled about, opening the stall doors with the green unoccupied indicator, and noting only one in use.

 Quickly and quietly he went about his business and was washing his hands when in the mirror he saw the stall door open a few inches and a pair of dark almond shaped eyes rimmed in black kohl peering out at him. As soon as they made eye contact the door flew open, slamming against the wall, and the man, dressed entirely in black ran at Meredith.

 Meredith grabbed a bottle of almond oil from his First Class Bag, tore off the cap and flung it in the path of the smudgy eyed man. The man’s tabi boots were meant for silence and stealth, not traction on an oil slick floor, and the moment his split-toe soles hit the oil puddle he began to slide, arms pin wheeling madly, tanto flying from his gloved fingers. Meredith stoppered the sink with the cap from the crystal eye gel, turned on the water, and caught the spinning man beneath his arms. “Careful now. Wouldn’t want to fall and crack our head open.” He shoved the man’s head into the water. “Terribly messy and janitorial has enough to contend with.”

 He held the ninja’s head under the water for ninety seconds before pulling him up. “What are you here for?”

 “To kill you.”

 Meredith pushed the faucet lever to hot and returned the ninja’s head to the water for another ninety seconds. “Next question. Who sent you?”

 “The Master!”

 “They’re always called The Master. Will you be more specific?”

 “The Master sent me. I am loyal to the Master. I will never betray the Mas-“ His words turned to bubbles in the water.

 When the thrashing stopped, Meredith drug the ninja to the rear stall, closed the door, and stepped back into the terminal. Seeing a slender shape clad in black standing near the windows he headed in that direction, stopping when he blinked and the figure was gone. He blinked several more times, occasionally catching a glimmer of a figure in black, only to have them disappear. None of them were André. In fact André was nowhere in sight. Meredith headed toward a security guard doubtful even the surveillance video would show André’s abduction by ninjas. But he needed to rule out the possibility of anything else happening to André, even the likelihood André had run off by himself to make Meredith think someone had come after him and his ridiculous costume was not in vain.

 * * *

 André’s disguise had worked exactly as planned. And yet, it did not.

 When he spotted the first ninja which was easy for him having had experience with them and a highly alert sense of paranoia, he had ducked into a crowd, pulled down his cap and mask, then slipped away and pressed himself into a dark corner.

 It worked so well another ninja even appeared beside him to ask had he seen “the little one”. A few minutes later as he tried to creep away another ninja appeared as if by magic to inform him their mission was scrapped. The blonde agent was with security and the little one had given them the slip. Ready to say he was not so little compared to them, many of whom were smaller, he was swept away in a tide of dark shadow, whisked into one of several black SUVs [could they be more obvious] and now found himself standing in a row of ninjas being railed at by “The Master” for incompetence.

 He felt slightly bad for the ninjas. Here they were, getting reprimanded for failing in both their missions [destroy Meredith or kidnap André] when they had actually achieved one of them. He wasn’t about to do them any favors such as pull off his mask and announce they had him in their midst. It seemed no matter what he did, one way or another, they had gotten him.  At least this way he wasn’t bound and gagged [they always gagged him and he wondered why] and having to listen to diabolical plans in detail which would just be repeated when Meredith arrived to save him.

 The life of an attractive partner to a great secret agent certainly had its drawbacks.

 * * *

 Locating the latest Evil Mastermind to ruin a vacation, or in this case the return from a vacation ruined by another Evil Mastermind, proved a simple task. Surveillance videos revealed a blur of black shadow darting towards a fleet of black SUVs which were easy enough to trace to a Quonset hut outside of Paris. Infiltrating it was a quick matter involving a blowtorch purchased at a kitchen supply shop along the way.

 As he peeled back the metal panel and stepped inside, dozens of fabric covered faces turned to him while a man dressed all in purple and gold jumped up from his throne-like chair.

 “You can’t just walk in here like that,” The Master screeched.

 “Should I have skipped?”

 “That’s not what I mean!”

 Meredith reached toward his neck intending to straighten his tie which was something he typically did at this moment to show he was more concerned with his appearance than any possible threats, but realized he wore his comfortable travel clothes which did not include tie or even a button front shirt. He hooked a finger in the collar of his cozy lightweight sweater and looked about him counting twenty five ninjas and the latest Ninja Master to call himself the Master. “Do you mean coming in through the wall? I really didn’t think anyone would answer if I knocked on the door.”

 He strode across the room to a position directly opposite and scanned the ninjas lined up in five V formations consisting of 5 ninjas each. “Care to explain to me what you were doing in the airport?”

 “I sent out two dozen and one ninjas to defeat you. You may have given them the slip in the airport and as did your companion, but I have twenty four and one ninjas, each highly skilled in their art to destroy you now.”

 “Is there a reason you can’t simply say twenty-five? Ah forget that. Don’t explain. You all have quite peculiar idiosyncrasies. Goes with the job profile I suppose.” Twenty five ninjas were sent for him and twenty five were here now. The mathematics hardly seemed possible considering he had left one thoroughly unable to destroy him with his highly skilled art. Which must mean… He groaned. André’s ninja disguise had worked too well. He began scanning the V formations. “What I wish to know is why do you want to kill me? I don’t even know you. I’ve never heard of you. I’d certainly remember you if we’d met before especially if you always dressed so tackily. So please, before you give your minions orders to silently kill me screaming or other nonsense, elaborate as to why I must die.”

 “You must die because you are the only person who stands between me and my takeover of Paris.”

 Already he had eliminated over half the ninjas based on their footwear, several more because of height and build. “Honestly, I really think the government, police force, military, vigilantes, terrorist groups, and a few tourists taking it all for a lark might stop you. I mean to say that I am the only person standing in your way, well, that’s really giving me much too much credit.”

 “You own a restaurant. Your lover’s family owns many restaurants, and my takeover begins at the heart of Paris. With the cuisine!”

 “Hm.”

 “Hm? That’s all you have to say is hm?”

 Meredith shrugged.

 “Don’t you even want to hear my plan?”

 “If you insist.” Let the madman ramble. Meredith had five ninjas now all in turtlenecks, black jeans, black shoes, and different face coverings but all involved a black knit cap. If only he’d taken note of what shoes André had worn he could be done with this and still make it home in time to pick up their dog Anouk from André’s parents.

 Meredith walked closer to the group of ninjas with the most turtleneck wearers or a certain height and slender build all while the Master droned on and on about his utterly ridiculous plan to infiltrate all of Paris’ restaurants, put some kind of psychoactive or hypnotic concoction in the food and take over the minds of Parisians. Then one of the ninjas, who was most definitely not André because of his deep set nearly black eyes and, Meredith thought, the black makeup around his eyes was a little too much like manliner, gave Meredith the once-over and winked at him.

 A black loafer smacked the manliner wearing ninja in the side of his head.

 Meredith ran to his right, the direction from which the shoe had come, grabbed the ninja wearing only one shoe, and shoved André behind him.

 “Kill them my ninjas!” The Master pointed at Meredith and André as if there were any question who they should be attacking.

 An assortment of throwing stars, shurikens, bokkens, metal whips and other weapons appeared in the hands of the two dozen ninjas.

 “Where were they hiding those?” André who was clutching Meredith’s shoulders in his black-gloved hands whispered.

 “I’d rather not know the answer to that question.” Meredith snatched a throwing knife from the nearest ninja and threw it towards the Master who only had time to whimper something that might have been ‘my eye’ before falling back into his throne-like chair.

 The ninjas turned en masse from Meredith to their master. A questioning grumble went through them when the chair collapsed.

“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” One of them asked no one in particular.

“I suggest a little sight-seeing. If you’re short on time I recommend the Sacré-Coeur. The view is gorgeous and if you’ve the extra time there’s the Au Lapin Agile for a little cabaret.” Meredith pulled the mask and cap from André’s head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, mon lapin agile and I are going home.”

 “This is it, André,” the man replied in his fluid British accent. “Sorry if you wanted casinos and night clubs. We could always take a boat over to one of the bigger islands, but I think this is perfect. We needed a holiday away from the city. There’s nothing to do here, except entertain ourselves.”

 “All right, Meredith, but this better not be one of your secret missions I’m not supposed to know about. There’s nothing here. Makes me think of some evil villain’s secret hideout.” He walked along behind Meredith who wanted a drink and a ride to their small resort.” It’s okay for you if your arch nemesis or some mad scientist is here. You get to have fun. I’ve seen the secret agent movies. I know what happens to the attractive sidekick. I’ll be taken hostage. Tortured. Made to listen to ABBA, while watching Celebrity Big Brother, and eating microwaved burritos. I will be very upset with you if I’m taken prisoner.”

 Grateful he didn’t add ‘again’ to his lament, Meredith handed him a red and yellow drink. “It’s merely a holiday, mon lapin. It’s no one’s secret hideout. You’re perfectly safe.”

 “Isn’t that what you said about Hong Kong? Prague? North Dakota?”

 “To be honest North Dakota took me completely by surprise as well.”

 André pat Meredith’s shoulder. “Yes, I understand. Who expects such a large concentration of ninjas in North Dakota? Who expects ninjas anywhere? Who expects ninjas at all? Sneaky little bastards.”

 “I’m sorry. But it’s not my fault entirely. You have this way of attracting trouble like flies to honey.” He held open the backdoor of a Jeep for André and followed him inside. “I don’t know why I’m apologizing for that. It had absolutely nothing to do with me. They mistook you for that insane venture capitalist Shorty McStump.” He gave the driver their destination.

 “I resent that still. And that name, Shorty McStump. That is someone evil. Villains always have ridiculous names. They can’t have normal names like other people.”

 “Says the guy whose last name means ‘knife’.”

“Yes, it means knife, Mr. Pike.”

 “Quit worrying and let’s just enjoy our holiday. Nothing will happen.”

 André’s dark eyes bore into Meredith’s bright blue eyes. “Oh thank you so much, Old Man. Why not draw a target on me, put me in a blow-up raft slowly losing air, and pour some blood in the water to attract the mutant flying man-eating electric sharks? Never ever say nothing will happen. Might as well call the ninjas.”

 “Is your friend all right?” the driver asked.

 “No. He’s neurotic. But I love him anyway.”

 All was going well. After a day where the most exciting thing that happened occurred in a hammock, André began to feel more at ease and secure.

 Together he and Meredith entered the cozy building referred to as the lodge where meals were served family style. A new guest had arrived and stood behind the bar mixing drinks with a silly Japanese man who wore an obnoxious Hawaiian shirt.  “André-chou, get us drinks. I’ll get us places at a table.”

 “Not with the old peoples from Florida. I not want to hear from that man about how the States keep saving my froggie behind from the Gestapo.”

 “I wouldn’t dream of it. Get me a gin and tonic. Lime not lemon.”

 “Ouias.” He went to the bar and smiled at the woman who didn’t smile so much as simmer.

 She radiated smoldering passion and sexuality. Her luxurious scarlet hair was streaked with golden blonde. Half of it was twisted up in an elaborate coiffe, the rest hung down in thick shimmering coils pulled forward over her shoulder.  Her hair was so abundant it nearly obscured her bandeaux top which tried with all its might to contain her ample perfect breasts. A sarong in shades of brilliant greens and blues clung to her hips yet allowed almost the entirety of one long leg to be revealed.

 André noticed her eyes. They were not the same color.  “You are making the drinks for all, please?”

 “Yes, darling. I’m playing bartender. I do so love it when alcohol is inclusive in the cost of a package, don’t you?” Her voice was a smoky purr.

“Yes, whatever you say. So, you will make for me a gin and tonic with lime and give to me a Stella?”

 “No, problem, sweetheart.”

 He tilted his head at her wondering why she kept calling him pet names. Maybe she was a waitress in a diner and couldn’t help herself.

“Here you go, cutie.” She set a glass and bottle of beer in front of him. “What’s your name?”

 “André Couteau. You?” He picked up the glass and beer and took a sip of the gin and tonic because she had filled it to the rim.

 “Fraise DesBois.”

 The glass shattered on the floor. The bottle bounced off a barstool spewing its contents.  Another barstool fell over as André staggered back, his hands held up defensively before him. “No. No. You stay away from me! Evil woman! Stay away!”

 Meredith ran to André and grabbed him by the shoulders. “What is it? André, tell me. What is it?”

 “Her name. Fraise DesBois! It means Wild Strawberry.” André tore away from Meredith and ran from the lodge ranting about arch villains and ninjas. 

Meredith could only shake his head in disbelief. “I think the stress of the restaurant has finally gotten to him.”

 Fraise DesBoise watched with a smile as the tall blonde man left the lodge. She pat the head of the wiry man next to her. “You did well to alert me, Bak Phat. Not only have you happened upon Mr. Pike, France’s greatest secret agent who is British, but with him is his Achilles Heel.”

 “I thought he said his name was André.”

 * * *

Meredith had calmed André with a shot of reason and a dose of tranquilizers. He left André tucked snugly into bed, returned to the lodge for dinner, and offered his apologies to Ms. DesBois, beginning his apology with “You may have noticed my friend is French…” That was really all the explanation needed, that and he added André was a chef and overworked.

 He returned to the cabin with a tray for André, they had to get the recipe for the lobster bisque, and set it on the little table just inside the door.  The shower was running. “André, You’ll be happy to know Ms. DesBois has a good sense of humour and understands how stressed out you are and has no hard feelings. I brought you,” he opened the door to the bathroom and fell silent. Steam billowed out. He stepped inside, reached into the empty shower and turned off the hot water. “André, did you start a shower and go back to bed?”

 Stepping into the bedroom his eyes narrowed at the bed which was not only empty, but in disarray.  The mattress tilted half off the bed, the bedside table overturned, the lamp only shards of pottery scattered across the floor. “This better be a really bad practical joke, André.”

He returned to the bathroom and saw the steam revealed a message written on the bathroom mirror. “Bring the flash drive to Cpt Morgan’s Cave at sunrise or you will never see your Chef again.” The last portion was hard to read because of the limited space on the mirror and the length of the message. At first he thought it said something about never seeing Cher again which was fine with him.

 * * *

“Stupid ninja,” André scowled at Bak Phat.

 “I told you, I’m not a ninja. I wasn’t even born in Japan. I was born in Cleveland.”

 “Did you or did you not sneak in my room dress like a ninja?”

 “I wore a black ski mask and a Hawaiian shirt. This shirt!” He tugged on the rainbow hued shirt he wore.

 “Cause you a stupid ninja from Cleveland.” André sneered.

 “I’m not a ninja!”

 “Bak Phat, stop talking to him,” Fraise DesBois snapped for what seemed like the hundredth time.

 “I try, but he keeps calling me a stupid ninja.”

 “I calls them like I sees them, stupid ninja.” André muttered under his breath. He was really getting tired of this. This boring cave was no place to spend the night. “Hey, is this not a pirate cave? Are not pirates and ninjas mortal enemies? I hope a pirate come and cut you to pieces.”

 “You’re insane, do you know that? Stark raving mad!” Bak Phat waved his hands in the air. “You’re a freaking prisoner. Can’t you cower in fear or go whimper in the corner?”

“I might could if you were scary ninja ‘stead of stupid ninja.”

 Outside Meredith who saw no reason to wait around until sunrise to launch a rescue for André dropped down behind one of DesBois’ armed thugs, this one wearing a golf shirt covered in palm trees and a ski mask, tapped him on the shoulder, and head butted him when he turned to see who it was. “I guess the current economic crisis must be effecting her ability to afford experienced minions,” he said as he inspected the machine gun the man dropped. He removed the clip and tossed it into the ocean. “Overkill, really. I’m just one man.”

 Carefully stepping over the man he proceeded toward the next minion who patrolled the opening to the cave.

 Inside the cave DesBois was getting tired of the bickering between Bak Phat and André. “Can the two of you please just shut up! This has been going on for hours. Shut up!”

 “Yeah, shut your mouth. Ninjas is to being silent.”

 “Your English really sucks.”

 “You suck.”

 “No, you suck, you fa- ooph!” He fell over clutching his crotch.

 Outside Meredith heard someone cry out. The minion heard it too and began hurrying towards the cave entrance. Acting fast he sprinted, tackled the man, and held his face in the sand until he stopped kicking.

 André shook his head and examined his shoe for scuffs. “Mademoiselle, your ninja got lousy reflex. I hope they not all this bad or Meredith gonna be disappointed at no challenge.”

 “I’m the one who’s disappointed, sugar. I really expected more of a challenge than this myself.” She began pacing the length of the cave. “I guess it really would have been a challenge had he come alone. I just planned to do what I did with Jim.”

 “Jim?”

 “Jim Bond.” She continued. “With him it was simple. He fancies himself a ladies man, so I only had to seduce him.”

 “Yeah. That get you nowhere with my Meredith.”

 “I can’t believe his name is actually Meredith. What kind of name is that for a secret agent? Did his parents want a daughter? How scared am I supposed to be of a man named Meredith?”

 “Very scared. He behind you.” André smirked.

 “Like I’m falling for that.” Just in case she looked over her shoulder. “Meredith!”

 “That’s Mary Fucking Death to you.” He delivered a swift fist to her eye.

 After reeling back from the sucker punch she lashed out at him. He caught her hand and snapped a long lacquered nail followed by another and another.

 “My nail tips!” she screeched in horror.

 “Your fingers will be next if you don’t give up hope of obtaining the secret information, gather your pretty useless minions, and leave the island.”

 “Damn you, Pike. I’ll leave, but this won’t be the last you hear from me.” She stumbled into the wall when he released her.

 “Try to call before noon. We get quite busy at the restaurant after that.” He unknotted the ropes around André’s wrists. “Are you all right?”

 “So-So. Stupid Ninja scuff my shoe.” He kicked Bak Phat one more time for good measure. “I can’t believe you hit a woman. That was not very nice.”

 “She made fun of my name.”