Othar
The Master has made a point about Paris being a safe haven for the world's art. He'd pay plenty to prevent this being made public. Good one
| Again and again I find myself asking why steal the Louvre? You can't fence it. Hmm- but I'll bet you could ransom it. The Master would pay. |
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| I have an nifty refrigerator inspector disguise (little used, sadly), but it would take over 11 years to search the city. Probably too long. |
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| The only thing working for me is that objects that have been molecularly shrunk need to be kept cold. The colder the better. Not a big help. |
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| My best course of action will be to find the Louvre. This could be tricky, as it would, by my calculations, now be less than a meter square. |
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| They're sorting bones. Efficient. Separating them out. Wait. There are four piles, not three. Someone else was in there. I wonder who it is? |
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| Eventually the fire is out. Most of the crowd disperses. Firemen begin to comb the wreckage. I magnify. Charred bones. I feel ill. |
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| There's no danger of the fire spreading. Good. The gas main has been shut off. The dragons almost have the fire out. I do not see the Zyns. |
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| Ah. the rooftops of Paris. Always a fine setting for adventure. And pigeons. I set my lenses to magnify and start looking at the fire scene. |
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| This means that until I have proof, I cannot deal with any of the Serpents. If I can find one that's not mind controlled. Why me? I ask you. |
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| He drops. I run. No pursuit. This is troubling. He knew I wasn't a Serpent. But how? Do they have secret signals? Or just know each other? |
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| He goes for his gun, thus opening himself up to the deadly Basque Lepus Punch, which was taught to me by a very irritated old Basque bandit. |
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| As we walk, I mention that I've never seen him before. How long has he been on the force? Who does he report to? He grins. "Nicely done." |
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| As I'm talking to the firefighter, a man comes up a flips his badge. Serpent. I show mine. He nods, says there's a meeting. I follow him. |
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| The first reports are coming in. Fire caused by a combination of spilt cooking oil and natural gas. In other circumstances, I'd be jealous. |
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| I must take a chance. I approach one of the dragon handlers and show my badge. Did the Zyns make it out? He doesn't know, but will find out. |
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| Step back. Look again. Too many people are scanning the crowds as opposed to watching the fire. Looking for an arsonist, or looking for me? |
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| Finally! The great brass water dragons of the Paris fire department lumber up, attach tails to hydrants and start spouting. This is arson. |
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| Technically, it is doughnuts, as well as everything else. The bistro's a roaring wall of flame. Where are the Zyns? Don't see them anywhere. |
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| This is tricky, I have to rush over there without attracting attention. But I see I have an excuse. A column of smoke. Hope it's doughnuts. |
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