Terror On Tour Chapter 9

Terror On Tour

Chapter 9

Merci beaucoup, Alyce, I said. You’ve been a big help. Talk to you later.

I hung up and turned to the group. Van’s in trouble, I said, then related what Alyce at the theatre had told me.

You think this is Seth’s doing? Teresa said.

Of course it is, I muttered. It’s almost 5 pm. Maybe we can stop—whatever Teller is planning.

It was decided that the band would remain at the hotel. Their interview was at 5 pm here in the hotel, and if they missed it, Remy would be furious—as would the record company. They were already skittish about the shenanigans so far so it was best that they be as cooperative as possible.

And maybe Van was alright, though the more I thought about it, the more I doubted it. Seth had lured Van away. It was only by luck that I found out about it.

What was he planning?

I had a bad feeling as I got into the taxi and told the driver to take me to the Eiffel Tower.

Thankfully it wasn’t far to the Eiffel Tower, but traffic was heavy as it was Saturday night and the partiers and tourist were headed downtown. I pulled out my cell phone and accessed a search engine and did some more digging about Seth, specifically about his years at university. I kept glancing out the taxi window but traffic was crawling in the late afternoon rush. I turned back to the website and I saw something interesting—something that I hadn’t realized before. Could this be why Seth was so adamant about ruining ComfortZone’s chances at fame?

The sun was lowering in the western sky as I was finally let off at the entrance to the Eiffel Tower. Crowds of tourists milled around the base. I spied a small building at the base of one of the four corners, the “Pilier Est”. Behind me I saw another building “Pilier Sud”. East tower and south tower. The crowds of people milled around as I searched for Van—or Seth, or one of his cronies.

It was 4:58 and Van was supposed to meet me here at 5 pm so he should be around—unless Seth got to him first.

A street ran along the edge of the base of the tower and beyond that a long expanse of grass that was an open area park. Students sprawled on the grass reading books. Some kids were playing with a ball while others were taking pictures of the tower. I had been to Paris and had seen the tower before but it was still impressive in the early evening light.

I was worried about Van, though. I scanned the people milling around but still no sign of Van or of Seth and is cronies. It was now after 5. I scanned the tower and suddenly realized that there was an observation deck. Maybe Van was supposed to meet me there.

I returned to the base and found the spot where tickets were purchased for the observation deck and bought one and got in line for the next elevator.

I chafed at the delay. The elevator seemed to take an eternity to return to the ground level. Once it did, many tourists embarked, talking excitedly about the view, many of them conversing in French.

Two teens, a guy and a girl passed by me talking excitedly. The guy blurted out a French sentence. “C’etait un gar avec un vert Mohawk.” It was a guy with a green mohawk.

Pardonnez moi, I said turning to the two youths. Parlez vous anglais?

Oui monsiuer, the girl remarked. We do.

You just saw a guy with a green mohawk?

The girl giggled and her companion rolled his eyes. Yes, we see a guy up on the observation deck. He looked ridiculous. He was with some guy with a serpent—snake tattoo on his head. Crazy Paris youth, he muttered. We are from Nice, in the south. They are not as crazy there.

I gulped at the news. So Chris was with Seth. Where was Van?

I thanked the youths and they went on their way.

Soon it was my turn to get on the elevator so I crowded on with the rest of the tourists. The ascent was slow and when I finally disembarked it was 5:20. The observation deck surrounded the tower on four sides giving a breathtaking view of the city. Lights were beginning to come on in the buildings below, though the sun had few hours yet before it set. It was a beautiful view, but I was worried about Van. I did a circuit around the tower but didn’t see Van or Seth and his buddy Chris.

Where were they? Seth must be here. The two youths saw a guy with a green mohawk—unless there was more than one guy with a green mohawk in Paris—which was possible.

But not probable.

Then I saw Seth. And Chris. Van was with them! Van was in front with Chris and Seth following him and they were headed in the opposite direction.

A woman bumped into me at that moment. Excusez moi, I muttered and the woman turned to me and uttered a stream in French that I could not follow.

Excusez moi! I said again as I tried to walk away but the woman grabbed my arm.

Que voulez-vous? What do you want? I asked looking at her face. She looked familiar. Then it hit me. The young woman from the parking lot back in Port Salser. I remembered the smirk she gave me that night. The same one she gave me now. She was a friend of Teller. She must have been watching for anyone following Seth and his buddy.

She ignored my question. I wrenched free from her grasp and took off in the direction that Seth and Chris had taken, around the side of the observation deck. I walked around the side with the young woman following me close behind.  

 She was gaining on me when I caught sight of Van with Seth and Chris. Where were they headed?

Arretez! I heard a loud booming voice behind me. I turned to see an police officer walking towards me with the young woman beside him.

Uh-oh! I thought as he approached.

I stood in my spot as the man came up to me. You are not French? He asked in a heavily accented voice, his enormous moustache bobbing up and down as he spoke.

No, I’m Canadian. What is the problem, officer?

The man looked at me. Can I see some ID, he said calmly but the girl beside him was chafing at the delay. He attacked me, she cried. You have to arrest him.

The moustached officer turned to her and gave her a glare. I handed him my driver’s licence and he looked at it and handed it back. This young woman says that you attacked her. Is this true, sir?

No, it is not, I muttered. This young woman is trying to keep me occupied while her friends are taking my friend away—possibly to harm him. She is making these accusations so I will not be able to get to my friend. They are getting away.

The cop looked skeptical as he glanced between the young woman and me. One of you is lying, he said.

Can you call into your headquarters and see if you can speak to an Anton Metier. I have his number here, I said, pulling it from my wallet.

The officer pulled out his cell phone and suddenly the young woman bolted!

Attendez mademoiselle, the officer, whose badge read Hubert called out to her. Soon she was lost in the throng of tourists.

Seems she was lying, Hubert said. He dialed the number and spoke to Anton Metier. A minute later he hung up and turned to me. Your story checks out. You were after a young man with a green mohawk?

Yes, I said. Him and his associate have my friend. I was following them when this young woman made the accusation.

I will radio this in to the tower authorities. These hoodlums won’t get far, he added, pulling out his phone once again. He spoke in rapid French then hung up.

The young man with the green mohawk was just spotted leaving he grounds. There was a young gentleman with him with a  snake tattoo on his head. Is this your friend?

No, they were together and my friend was with them. They are our enemies and have threatened us. My friend is in danger.

Suddenly a commotion could be heard around the side of the observation deck, people were running to the spot where a crowd of people had gathered.

I got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn’t think it was the lunch I had eaten.

I followed Officer Hubert as he made his way to the middle of the commotion at the edge of the deck. A metal railing ran around the deck A steel girder jutted out from the deck to join with another support. I gasped when I saw a figure dangling off the girder. It was Van!

Help me! He shrieked. I’m slipping.

Officer Hubert cleared away the onlookers and I followed him to the railing.

Justin! He cried out. Get me off this thing! Hurry!

I’m coming, buddy, I said, raising my leg up to climb over the railing. Hubert grabbed my arm but I wrenched free. I’m rescuing my friend. We can’t wait for the rescue team. He’s slipping and is going to fall.

I walked out onto the wide beam and got to where Van was dangling. It was a dizzying drop to the bottom. I knelt down on my stomach and reached out to him to grab my outstretched hand. Suddenly Van shrieked as his left hand slipped. At the same moment I grabbed his right wrist and held on tight.

Hubert appeared a moment later with a rope that had been tied in a loop at one end. He dropped it down and Van put his left arm through it. With Hubert pulling on the rope and me pulling his right arm Van was able to grab the girder and pull himself up. He collapsed in a heap beside me as the onlookers applauded. I glanced over and saw the young woman who had tried to detain me earlier,  scowl, then pull back and disappear among the crowd.

Hubert did not look amused. What were you doing out here, young man? He demanded. Were you trying to kill yourself?

No, Van muttered as he turned to me. Seth and his snake tattoo buddy grabbed me, he remarked. I came here thinking you were meeting me here. I was surprised to see them.

I know what happened. The young girl at the theatre, Alyce, she told me you got a call telling you to meet me here, but it was a trap.

Van nodded. Why would they do this? He muttered, getting to his feet. We followed Hubert back to the railing where we climbed back over. The crowd began to disperse when Officer Hubert shooed them away.

Thanks for the rescue by the way, Van said with a grin. Those goons forced me out onto the ledge. They said they had a gun. They took off but a gust of wind made me lose my balance.

A young woman came forward and corroborated Van’s story saying that she witnessed the whole thing. This seemed to satisfy Officer Hubert who moved away to make the report.

Come on, we have to get back to the theatre, I grunted as we walked towards the elevators. I think I know why Seth is so adamant about ruining the band. This little diversion was meant to harm you—maybe even kill you,  and to get me out of the picture temporarily so they could finish their plan.

What plan is that? Van muttered as we got on the elevator.

He’s going to finish off the band once and for all! And I think I know why.