Crackerjack And The Billionairess

That's enough. Please be quiet. No one can hear you and you're giving me a headache with that incessant whining of yours.

Yes, I know. You want me to tell you who I am, what I want with you, and what we're doing here. Stop whimpering and I will tell you.

That's better.

First off, who I am is not important, but if you must, you can refer to me as Shay Bolt. The reason why you are here is to observe, and hopefully learn.

Look across the street. Do you see the man, standing in the alleyway? Don't worry. He's not there for you. He's not the one to be concerned about, anyway. That would be the sniper on a rooftop half a mile away with a direct line of sight to an elegant young woman sitting outside of the cafe on the corner.

Calm down! I'm not expecting you to do anything. I just want you to watch. I want you to see what a good person can do if they choose to heed the call.

The man in the alleyway has gone by many aliases throughout his long life. At birth, he was given the name Paul Joseph Merritt, but to those he aids he is more widely known by his codename Crackerjack. No, not the caramel-coated popcorn and peanuts in a box kind. The exceptionally good person kind of crackerjack.

He's here because he knows the woman at the cafe is in danger, that if he doesn't do something, she will be shot and killed. The sniper is only part of the equation, however, so the only thing he can do is to try to save the woman.

That means putting himself between her and the assassin's bullet.

Who's the woman? Rosamonde Bouvier, heiress to the Bouvier multi-billion dollar fortune.

Of course she has a security team. Her father, Rainier Bouvier, doesn't allow her to go anywhere without one. Unfortunately, two of the four bodyguards she has are in on the assassination attempt, and they've already incapacitated the other two.

So, as you can see, it's up to Crackerjack if Rosamonde is to live.

He's gone? Didn't see him move, did you? Crackerjack is already at the corner, moving so quickly between the cars the drivers didn't even know he was there. There he is on the sidewalk, hands out, talking to Rosamonde.

Which are the guards? They're the ones with their backs turned away from her sitting at tables to her left and right, acting casually while tensing to pounce. They seem to be ignoring Crackerjack, even though he's in the way of the shot. They should have prevented him from even getting so close, but instead, they held their positions. That's because Crackerjack is pretending to be Rosamonde's fiancé, Lucien Gaspard Salvant, and the man who ordered Rosamonde dead.

Would you like to listen in? Of course you would.

"I know. I wanted to surprise you," Crackerjack as Salvant says, giving the surprised Rosamonde a kiss on her cheek, "I need to talk to you. Alone."

"You know where I go, they go," Rosamonde said, barely moving her face to the left and right.

"Yes, yes." Crackerjack waves an impatient hand, "Shall we go inside?"

Rosamonde nods. The man on her left gets up and moves to the door, followed by Rosamonde, and Crackerjack/Salvant. As the door closes behind them, the bodyguard on the right gets up, and glances toward the Parisian skyline. For a moment, a flash of confusion crosses his face, then he turns and follows the others inside.

That momentary expression is meant as a signal to the sniper to stand down. The hired gunwoman takes a deep breath, thinking to herself something is wrong. Salvant is early, and instead of sitting down with the mark, he stood in front of her the whole time, obscuring the shot. The sniper knows she should tear down her rifle and flee, but instead, she remains in her perch, eyeing the busy scene through her high powered scope. Maybe there will be an opportunity later when they exit the cafe.

Intrigued now, are you? Do you want to know what's going on inside?

Very well.

Crackerjack/Salvant has asked for a table in the far corner of the cafe. Aside from the bodyguards, who take up a table opposite and one up from them, there's no one else within earshot. Let's listen in, shall we?

"What is it, Lucien?" Rosamonde says, hiding her growing concern with huffy annoyance, "Why all the infantile melodrama?"

Crackerjack/Salvant leans in, "I wish we could go somewhere without prying eyes or ears."

"You know that's not possible," Rosamonde says. She's baffled by his behavior. He's not seemed this concerned before about her constantly being under surveillance.

"Yes, but the lapel camera and microphone are a bit much," Crackerjack/Salvant says, sitting back. He honestly looks put out.

Rosamonde's lips bloom into a dazzling smile, and she laughs deeply. "Seriously? Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No, but now that we are, I'm not sure how we're supposed to move our relationship forward if someone is constantly checking in on us."

"We're to be married in a week! How much more can our relationship move?"

Crackerjack/Salvant doesn't answer. He just lets his previous statement speak for itself.

It doesn't take long for what he's really saying to sink in. Eyes dancing with amusement, Rosamonde's mouth opens in astonishment. "Why Lucien," she says, "I thought you were being gentlemanly, taking things slow. I didn't know you were so...shy."

"There's a lot of things you don't know about me."

With an eyebrow provocatively raised, it's Rosamonde's turn to lean in. "Tell me."

Crackerjack/Salvant meets her gaze. Then he diverts his eyes to her dazzling diamond pendant. "Not like this," he says.

Rosamonde continues to stare at Crackerjack/Salvant. After a moment, she glances over at her bodyguards who are nonchalantly busying themselves with their menus. Admittedly, having them constantly around is tiresome, she thinks to herself, but they are only doing what her father has asked them to do. Keep her safe.

Obviously, she will feel differently once she knows the truth.

Not being one to go against her father's wishes, she's not entirely sure why she does what she does next, but she does it anyway. "Okay," she says. Deftly, she removes her pendant and tosses it at the head of the bodyguard whose back is turned. At the last moment, he ducks, while the other snatches the expensive piece of jewelry out of the air. "Go," she adds quietly.

Neither attempts to get up, but look at her flint-faced.

"I will have you both replaced if you don't leave immediately."

"You know we can't do that," says the bodyguard who caught the pendant. He's in control, but the vein on his neck pulses slightly.

"Do as the lady wishes," Crackerjack/Salvant says, without turning, "and I'll vouch for you both."

"Your word's worthless," the bodyguard says. He's playing his role, but his missive is also meant to declare his discontent to Crackerjack/Salvant for changing the game.

"Do you seriously plan to continue?" Rosamonde says, sighing. "Keep an eye on me. Just do it up there." She waves dismissively.

After a few more seconds of stare down, the bodyguards look at each other and get up. Slowly, they move away, heading towards the entrance before taking up a position at a freshly vacant table well out of range.

"You know I'm going to pay for this," Rosamonde says, trying to relax. "I hope it's worth it." She reaches out for Crackerjack/Salvant's hands and encloses them in hers.

"It is," he says. Again, he leans in. As he does, his countenance somehow, inexplicably, changes from Salvant, to someone who is not.

"What just happened?" The heiress retreats, fear transforming her face. "You're not Lucien."

"No, I'm not," Crackerjack says, "and I know you have no reason to believe me, but your life is in danger, and I'm here to save you."

"Save me?" She looks up at the bodyguards she's just sent away, hoping to call them back with a furtive glance. They see her, but unable to tell from the back what the man they think to be Salvant now looks like, they choose to ignore her.

"They're in on it," Crackerjack says. "Don't you find it strange that you haven't seen the other two members of your security detail since you got here?"

Rosamonde takes a moment to think about that, but says, "That's not too unusual. They tend to stay out of sight."

"That's because of the pendant. But you don't have it anymore."

Rosamonde looks at the entrance, as if the other two will walk in any moment. They don't. She looks back at Crackerjack.

"Who are you? Why should I believe you?"

"It's best for both of us if you don't know who I am," Crackerjack says. "And maybe it's best you don't believe me. Maybe that will open your eyes to what's really going on around you."

"That someone wants to kill me."

"Not just anyone. Salvant."

"Lucien? That doesn't make any sense? We're to be married! I'm worth more to him alive than I am..."

"Dead?" Crackerjack finishes her sentence. The wheels in Rosamonde's head are turning.

"The prenuptial agreement," she says, "If something happens to me, he gets half."

"Before you're married."

"I love him!" Rosamonde exclaims quietly, "I wanted him to have something. He worries about his parents, his sisters..."

"It's not his family he's worried about. It's his own skin. He's into many things, Miss Bouvier, and he owes a lot of money. The only reason why he's not dead is because he's involved with you."

"But why have me shot? So openly? He would be a suspect! The police would find out about the prenuptial agreement before it could pay out."

"Not if he was shot, too," Crackerjack says, "The woman Salvant hired to kill you often freelances for an organization Salvant owes money to. It's a lot, but only a fraction of what he'll get if you die. If it looks like the killer accidentally hit you first before taking a second shot at Salvant..."

"Lucien gets away with half of my allowance."

"Which amounts to three and a quarter billion in U.S. dollars if I'm not mistaken."

"This is unbelievable."

"You could ask Salvant himself," Crackerjack says, "He should be walking in right about...now."

Rosamonde looks anxiously at the entrance. On cue, the door opens and in walks Salvant, looking none to happy that neither his fiancée nor her security team is outside like they discussed. Still in the doorway, as his eyes adjust to the ambient light, he scans the cafe for signs of them.

Rosamonde's eyes look away, back to Crackerjack. He's very serious when he says:

"You better ask quickly, though."

Rosamonde's not even decided what she's going to do when the assassin's bullet penetrates Salvant's back through all of his insides and out the front of his chest. There's a burst of blood as he falls heavily to the floor. Then there are screams as cafe patrons leap up, horrified at what's just happened.

"Lucien..." Rosamonde whispers, halfway between standing and sitting.

Crackerjack catches her arm, "We need to go now before your bodyguards get over what just happened."

Gently, he presses against her and in shock, she allows him to steer her from the table and out the back of the cafe. As chaos continues within, no one, including the security detail see them leave.

There's a dark, late model Audi R8 V10 Plus parked part way up the alley. After putting Rosamonde in on the passenger side, Crackerjack gets behind the wheel. The engine roars to life and within moments, they are out in the streets of Paris, heading away from the cafe.

It's several minutes before either speaks. By then, they have managed to bypass most of the traffic. Tears streaming down her face, Rosamonde looks around her as if waking from a dream. "Where are you taking me?"

"To your father," Crackerjack replies. For a few seconds, he looks over at her. "You must tell him everything that happened. You should also insist on getting away. Somewhere safe."

"What about my bodyguards?"

"I don't think they pose a threat for the time being. Hopefully, the authorities can hunt them down."

"And the sniper?"

"She'll fade away like she always does, but she won't be coming after you. There's no profit in it now."

"You saved me." Her voice is just above a whisper. She sounds very small.

"I was happy to do it."

"Who do you work for? The RG? The CIA?"

"I...work alone," Crackerjack says, "It's less messy that way."

"How did you know then? About Salvant? The attempt on my life?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Again, the two fall into silence. It's late afternoon as the Audi pulls to a stop a couple hundred yards from the fortified gate of the Bouvier countryside estate. Making sure they have not been spotted, Crackerjack turns to Rosamonde.

"You should walk in from here. By now, they'll know what happened and that you're missing. I'm sure they'll be relieved to see you. Tell them I drove you here and dropped you off."

Crackerjack reaches over and opens her door. Rosamonde latches onto his wrist.

"I still don't know who you are. They'll want to know who saved me."

"It's better..."

"I know, I know. It's better for both of us if you don't tell me."

Sighing, Crackerjack smiles. "I'd rather you didn't, but if you must, I go by Crackerjack.

Crackerjack? Like the..."

"No." Shaking his head he adds, "I know it's outdated, but it's a nickname my mother gave me when I was small. That makes me kind of partial to it."

Rosamonde smiles. "Okay, Crackerjack it is." Then, her face fills with sadness. "Will I see you again?"

"I think there's a good chance of it. I will probably need you to help someone else someday. If you're willing."

"Anything," Rosamonde says. "Just ask."

"Goodbye, Miss Bouvier."

"Au revoir, Monsieur Crackerjack." Rosamonde gets out. After taking a few steps, she turns back and they exchange waves.

No more than a minute later, Rosamonde is spotted from the gate, and a couple security guards rush out to meet her. As she is bombarded with inquiries as to her well being, she looks back for the Audi and Crackerjack. They're gone.

Taking a deep breath, she says, "Take me to my father."

Yes, that's it. What? You want to know more? That's a change. You didn't seem to care... Okay. Okay. Yes, Miss Bouvier is just fine, and yes, she does see Crackerjack again, on several occasions, actually.

No. That's enough for now. Why don't you think on what you've seen. I'll find you again when there's more to learn.

_{All images from Pixabay, Pexels and Unsplash. Crackerjack and the Billionairess Copyright © 2019 Glen Anthony Albrethsen. All rights reserved. All characters are fictitious. Any resemblance to any person living or dead is strictly coincidental.}