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Date Posted: 23:57:07 03/12/08 Wed
Author: Hannah
Author Host/IP: port159.dialup.bfree.on.ca / 66.207.116.159
Subject: Northern Woods, Chapter 145
In reply to: Hannah 's message, "Northern Woods" on 12:47:54 03/09/08 Sun

Chapter 145

After the arrogant German had disappeared from his sight, Chris turned to Dupleiss and spoke.

“Report to Gagne at the front entrance.”

“Yes sir.” Dupleiss replied. He’d enjoyed this little encounter the three of them had participated in with Jurgen but he left immediately as ordered. He could tell by the venomous looks his superior was giving Daignault that his team member was in trouble. He was also intimately acquainted with Davenport’s temper and he wanted to be well out of the vicinity when the man’s ire exploded.

As soon as Dupleiss was out of sight, Davenport spun on a dime to glare at his his remaining subordinate, glaring at the man contemptuously. “Daignault!” he growled.

“Yes sir!” the man said as he snapped to attention in front of his superior.

“You were briefed on that man earlier. Do you remember that, or were you asleep?” Davenport spat out furiously.

“No sir. I was not asleep, sir ” a wide-eyed and trembling Daignault assured him emphatically.

“I’m beginning to wonder. We covered why Jurgen was to be banned from here tonight and why. We also covered the fact that this building now belongs to Monsieur Samuelle. Why is it that you’re the only member of the teams who has a problem understanding and remembering that? You and every man there spoke English, so that’s why the briefing was in that language. Or was I wrong? Should I have repeated my instructions in French just for your benefit?” Chris asked in a low, sarcastic voice.

Jean Daignault gulped, and stared steadily into his superior’s eyes and wisely kept his mouth firmly shut.

“In any case, to bring you up to speed; Jurgen’s mentally unstable and he’s threatened to rape Madame Samuelle. Do you remember that or not?” Davenport growled as he stepped well within Daignault’s ‘comfort zone’ and breathed heavily in his face in his best intimidating manner.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.” Daignault said in a shaky voice.

“You’re sorry. Wonderful… terrific! Being sorry won’t cut it if he gets in this building, mister. Do you want to say ‘sorry’ to Monsieur Samuelle if that slime gets in and hurts his bride? Have you any idea how much he loves that lady?” Davenport growled again.

Jean Daignault just stared mutely at Davenport. He didn’t dare reply to his superior while the man was in this foul of a mood. He remembered seeing a picture of the new Madame Samuelle earlier and he completely understood what his superior was asking. If the lady was half as gorgeous in person as she was in print, then his boss was an extremely lucky man.

“Are you married man?” Davenport spat out.

“No sir. I’m engaged.” Daignault admitted quietly as he trembled from head to toe. The outraged, tower of a man in front of him was intimidating him like no one ever had before.

“Imagine someone telling you he’s going to rape your fiancé. Would you like that?” Davenport inquired softly as he stared into Daignault’s dark eyes intently.

Daignault’s eyes widened. “No sir, I wouldn’t. No man would.”

“Madame Samuelle is pregnant, Daignault. And just so you know; that intel is confidential. It’s not to be repeated. Are we clear on that?” Chris growled.

“Yes sir; of course not sir!” Daignault said quickly.

‘Oh Mon Dieu! What kind of a monster threatens a pregnant woman?’ Daignault wondered in disbelief.

“Given that intel….how do you think Monsieur Samuelle feels about that man threatening to rape his wife?”

“Terrible sir,” a horrified Daignault responded immediately in a quivering voice. “I’d kill anyone who tried to do that to my Ginette.” Right now his superior was scaring the hell out of him. He’d never seen him so upset.

“Good; I’m glad to see we understand each other.” Chris growled. “And I’m sure he’d feel the same way about anyone who allowed that man’s plan to succeed. Are we clear on that too?”

“Mon Dieu!” Daignault whispered as his face paled, realizing how close he’d come to facilitating Jurgen’s designs. “I’m sorry sir. I’ll stand here all night sir. He won’t get in. I promise you he won’t.”

“You’re damned right you will, Daignault. And tomorrow morning you’ll report to the farm for twelve hours of retraining beginning at 0600 hours.” Chris snarled.

Jean’s heart sank. The farm was a 1000 hectacre complex that held training gear, obstacle courses and miserable trainers who made Davenport’s current behaviour seem like St Nicholas. Only new recruits and those on the verge of being fired were sent there.

“But it’s my fiancé’s birthday.” Daignault muttered defiantly. “We had plans to go to Quebec City.”

“I don’t give a damn if it’s Christmas morning and you had an audience with the Pope. You’ll be there or you’ll be looking for another job. Is that clear Daignault?” Chris barked.

“Yes sir.” Daignault said miserably, wondering how he was going to explain this to his girl.

“That’s all mister.” Chris said abruptly as he turned on his heel and began to stalk away. “Carry on.”

Chris had only walked about thirty feet from Daignault when his cell phone rang.

His brow rose when he realized the ringtone was the one for the alternate line, to which the secondary line on Monsieur Samuelle’s cell phone number was forwarded when he couldn’t answer it.

“Oui.” He answered quietly.

“Is Monsieur Samuelle there?” a woman’s voice asked.

“No. Who is this?” Chris asked. ‘Only one person I know of has this phone number.’

“It’s Karine Millette. Who’s this?” Karine asked nervously.

“Chris Davenport. This number has been forwarded to me for this evening. How can I help you Mademoiselle Millette?” Chris asked, relaxing. Michel had briefed him on this woman having this number and why.

“Oh good. You’re probably aware of my assignment.” Karine began.

“Yes…. I understand you’re working undercover as a cook for Elena now.” Chris answered. “Clever profile.”

“Thanks. It’s hard work too. That woman is very demanding.” Karine replied with a tired sigh.

Chris smirked. ‘Demanding’ was probably the most generous description of Elena’s temperament that he’d ever heard. Amusing as this conversation was though, he didn’t have time for idle chatter. He had to get Chuck’s former secretary to get to the point of her call.

“Why are you calling?” Chris said bluntly.

“I have something very important to report.” Karine said breathlessly.

“What? Before you answer that, where are you?” Chris replied tersely. “Is this line secure?”

“No one can hear us, Monsieur Davenport. I’m speaking to you on my cell phone right now. Elena’s gone to bed and I’m outside the house.” Karine replied, in assurance.

“Could she possibly overhear you from the house?” Chris wanted to know.

“If you’re at all familiar with the layout of her backyard, I’m on the far side of her swimming pool, at the back of the property.” Karine reported. “The house is at least thirty meters away. She couldn’t possibly hear me.”

“Good.” Chris replied, impressed with her precautions. “What do you have to report?”

“Jurgen…” Karine replied shuddering anew at all she’d heard that evening, “was here tonight. He plans to crash the party.”

“I know.” Chris replied. “I just sent him away.”

“You don’t understand.” Karine continued insistently. “He hasn’t given up. Madame Samuelle is still in danger.”

“What do you mean?” Chris demanded. “He can’t possibly get in here. All my men know what he looks like and I have every entrance covered.”

“I heard him tell Elena that he has men planted on the inside who have orders to bring Madame Samuelle to him if he can’t get inside.” Karine revealed. “The only department I can think of that they could infiltrate quietly and successfully would be the kitchen.”

“Why would you say that?” Chris asked, impressed in spite of himself. Not only was this ‘secretary’ offering pertinent intel, but she had assessed it, and he wanted to hear the rest of her suppositions. Then he’d see if he agreed with her findings.

“The ‘type’ Jurgen would employ is low-class… and they work cheap.” Karine continued confidentially. “It’s doubtful that they’d have either the training or class to be unobtrusive waiters, and they wouldn’t have had time to train for that or any other skill required inside on short notice. Besides, most hotels’ staff have to go through reference checks, and I doubt his lackeys would pass those requirements. Kitchen workers are the exception. They don’t need a lot of training, and events like this demand extra help… say with washing dishes. Help that the hotels usually don’t bother to check references on.”

Chris nodded, impressed with her rationale. Perhaps this woman would do better in his department. “Good work. I’ll check out your intel, Mademoiselle Millette. Keep in touch if you hear anything else.”

“Yes sir.” Karine replied, and hung up.

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