Diamonds and Nicotine

Three-minute window. Two minutes to kill.

Mademoiselle Noir repeated those words like a mantra as she slipped through the shadows of the unlit halls. This wing of the chateau was void of any life and energy of the party, leaving the space stone-cold and quiet. This was not surprising; from the looks of the smaller and simple layout of the halls this was the old servants’ wing and not fit for an extravagant party. But that was no problem as this suited her needs and objective better anyways; less eyes to spy her silently maneuvering her way through the castle.

The thief didn’t slow her pace as she went on, going by the mental image of the blueprints she had made sure to memorize before tonight. She knew every twist and turn of the stone walls, and the secret doors and pathways once used by the servants like every scar and vein of her body. That left her mind to carefully wander to her suspicions that has been tugging at the corner of her mind.

Nothing about this situation sat right with Noir. Not the side-job, not the immediate deadline, and certainly not the direct involvement of that infamous Ace of Spades.
Who’s to say that Ace was telling the truth anyway? What if all this was really in fact a trap? Who’s to say the he can be trusted?

That was just it; she didn’t trust him in the least bit. At this point, her confidence in her knowledge of the setting was the only thing Noir could rely on.

Noir took another turn, and her mind automatically altered its way of thinking. What are my options? She forced herself to think, examining all the possible angles.

Abort the mission and run? That was probably not a wise one, and Noir was certain that it was the quickest and surest way in getting herself killed. She wasn’t even sure if Ace had really let her free, for all she knew he had eyes one her every step she took. He couldn’t be that easy to get rid of, and she was definite that he was not that stupid.
Kill Ace of Spades. If she were to kill him, she should’ve done it when he was literally inches away from her. But both she and he knew that she wouldn’t; with the armed guards, snipers on the roof and the guests--- it was too much of a risk. Besides, Mademoiselle Noir was a thief, not a killer.
Do the job. Go in, disable the security, and get the hell out of dodge.

Noir chewed anxiously on her lower lip as she considered, but she knew that the last and her least favorite option may be her only way out.
“Three-minute window, two minutes to kill.” she muttered to herself reluctantly.

Noir passed through an archway and found herself at the top of a small set of stairs, a large black statue of a winged lion staring down at the white stone steps. Without stopping, her mind immediately calculated as she smoothly made her way down the steps.

Just at the bottom of the stairwell, there should be an open area that was once a loading yard. If she could get out there, she could just find the shortcut to get to the higher floors of the castle. And the five minutes before the shift change was nearly up. She had to get up to the top floor---

“Take that cargo to the crypt, now.”

Mademoiselle Noir froze and stopped dead in her tracks, hearing voices coming from somewhere ahead of her. From the tone it was a male, and from what he said he was in charge. This was peculiar; all the party staff members were around the other side of the castle, as that was where the festivities were. What on earth were these men doing here? What cargo were they taking to the crypt?

Suddenly, Noir felt chilled and her eyes found a hallway leading to her left. If her memory of the map was correct, the old crypt was located below the castle, going down that hallway. They were heading her way.
In time to prove her memory sharp, she heard footsteps coming closer. One…two… no, at least four people coming her way.

Noir quickly scanned the area around her, her heart thumping loudly in her head. Think! her mind screamed at her. Hide!
The thief glanced back into the direction the voices were growing louder from. She could see the shadows on the pale stone walls growing bigger and darker now.

Hide, or run… where? Where?---

Something on the wall along the floor caught Noir’s attention, and she took a split second to re-evaluate. Another glance back and she took the chance and dove forward.



“Watch it…Watch the turn.”

The men’s voices were right on top of her now, and Noir didn’t dare breathe. She curled further into the corner as she could manage, willing herself to be as small as possible. But she was also curious. What was down at the crypt?
A heavy thud suddenly sounded and Noir jolted slightly. A string of curses followed.

“Dammit, careful! LeBlanc will feed our asses to his dogs if we damage the cargo!”

Noir’s ears perked at the mention of the missing host of the party.

“Yea, yea, I know. But I’m keeping my eye out for that damned Chinaman boss hired. What I wouldn’t give to stab him in that fucking smirky face of his---”
“Ta gueule! What if he’s around? That ass is so quiet I never hear him approach.”
Insults were shot at the last man who spoke, and Noir finally saw one of them walk by through the iron grate. She saw very little as he passed; he was assisting in holding up the rather large and heavy looking wooden box. She couldn't make out what the cargo was but she smelled a distinct smell, a musky thick smell she recognized immediately.

“Quiet!” barked out a commanding voice. Noir assumed it was the leader of the crew. “Auction starts at midnight, and we have our orders to carry every last cargo down to the crypt. If we don’t, it will be on our necks.”

A collective response of 'Oui sir,' sounded from the group and without another word the group continued on their way.

Noir waited, until the footsteps were nearly inaudible. She then pushed the grate of the drainage forward and pushed it aside. Cautiously listening for anymore unexpected visitors, she pushed her clutch, her mask and her heels up and onto the floor before carefully pulling herself out of the ground.

The area was completely silent now as Noir straightened up and gathered her things. As she slipped her heels back on, she glanced back down the hall where the men had carried the cargo.
She had no definitive idea what kind of auction LeBlanc was planning on hosting but she had a few ideas that sent instinctual rage ripping through her, silently burning through Noir’s blood as her mind twisted with the possibilities. Her skin itched with the urge to tail the men down to the crypt, to immediately uncover what was going on. But rationality won over and she pushed down the urge.

“Three-minute window, two minutes to kill.” she reminded herself.

After another quick second, she forced her gaze off of the hall and headed out into the loading yard. Many new uncertainties joined the old suspicions in her already crowded and preoccupied mind but she now had two more things she was certain of.

Firstly, she was no longer interested in getting out of Pierrefonds so quickly.

And secondly, whatever was in that box was live cargo.