Paris, 2054. The night was dark and cold, the beginning of winter was close at hand. Soon snow would fall instead of the blanketing sheets of rain that fell upon the twisted and complex labyrinth of Paris. This night would be remembered by all – especially Julian Brenan. The 71 was his favourite bar, not too far from home and not too far from Tour Eiffel subway station where he worked. But as he shook the droplets of rain from his thin, black coat, something about that night sent him vibes of strange origins.

  He entered calmly, taking a sigh of relief as he passed through the doors, a wave of warmth rushing over his old, weathered skin. How Avalon could do wonders for him, that’s what Ilona had told him once before. Ah, Ilona, the beautiful, smart woman he longed for. Julian had been long divorced, separated into a lonely life that was desperately stuck in a rut. Coming to The 71 and meeting with Ilona was all he lived for.

  Dimitri gave him a welcoming nod and wink as he took his regular stool, slipping off his coat and resting it on the illuminated glass bar. A bubbling yellow drink was carefully lowered in front of him and he took the first blissful sip – there was nothing like a cold Reposé to help relax after a hard day. With his eyes shut he waited until the warmth sunk deeper and deeper into his veins. Within minutes he felt calm, warm and ultimately relaxed.

  As the music pulsed loudly behind him and the crowd grew, he opened his eyes and was surprised to find the beautiful Ilona already sitting beside him with a cute smile on her placid face. She too had a Reposé cocked in her right hand and with a large grin leaned forward to offer a toast.

  “To another day down!” Julian raised his cup and the simple chime resonated beautifully before both pairs of lips took another seductive sip of the Reposé.

  The music intensified and conversation began. No deep and meaningful junk, just simple conversation between two friends. And even though Ilona was well-renowned for her famous works, she wasn’t a celebrity and she enjoyed mixing with average people like Julian. It made her feel almost normal.

  They talked for an hour before Julian noticed it was beginning to get late. He still had to prepare a report before the end of the week and he was falling dreadfully behind with laundry. So with a tender kiss on the cheek from Ilona, Julian left the bar leaving Ilona to talk with Dimitri.

  The rain had stopped falling but only recently. The glowing street lamps were dripping still and the roads were almost covered in a thin blanket of water. But it was the chill that got to Julian; the night air was absolutely freezing! Clouds of condensation billowed out before him as he walked quickly knowing his van had been parked a fair distance away.

  He finally reached his van and was driving back home when fate gave him one last glance of his beautiful friend for the night. Ilona was walking quickly but he knew her spot was nearby and so passed by with a small wave. He watched her in the rear view mirror for a bit longer before he noticed a second character behind her, just able to be seen in the dark street. Julian turned onto the bridge moments later and thought nothing of it. Finally retiring at one o’clock the next morning, he fell into a disturbed dream where a darkness and eeriness filled every corner of the surreal realms where he travelled.

  His alarm chimed at the usual half-past five in the morning, the winter darkness making it even harder to get up. After skipping breakfast for the fifth day in a row he had a quick shower and had the news running in the background. It was then that he heard the horrible news of Ilona’s violent kidnapping. He jumped out of the shower, hurried and changed into whatever clothes were closest to the top of his dresser and raced to the nearest police station in his van. He reported the man who he had seen following Ilona while almost kicking himself – he could have helped her!

  The police attendant told him his report had been written down and the description of the man will be forwarded to whoever was heading the investigation. “But isn’t there anything more you can do? I mean, she’s missing for Gods sake! She could be dead!”

  “I’m sorry sir; we have to go through the appropriate channels – just as you do.” The tired police woman shooed him from the office before leaving and he grumpily made his way to work. But as he arrived a surprise was waiting on his desk; a single, white envelope addressed to Mr. Julian Brenan.

  He slumped into his seat hanging the coat over the back of his sleek, comfortable chair and opened the envelope. Inside, written in a silvery-black, was a small paragraph reading:

  “Want to help find the girl? Go down to Avalon Headquarters at midday and wait directly beneath the arch. We will meet you there. Farfella.”

  Farfella? Julian thought for a moment about Farfella’s ruthless reputation. How had Farfella, the greatest crime lord in Paris, found out about what Julian knew? And why should Julian trust him? He played with the idea and resolved to go – after all, it was for Ilona. Julian scrunched the letter up and threw it into his chrome bin. The glass walls around him showed the elegant Tour Eiffel subway station, the great stairs leading up to the base of the Eiffel Tower. He would catch the subway to Avalon Headquarters and meet them, it would be for Ilona.

  Lunch-break soon came and Julian wasted no time. The bubble-like train slid into Avalon Station shortly before noon and Julian walked quickly through the crowds and out into the open to look up and see the great arch overhead. As he approached, a strong hand gripped his shoulder and turned him around. Staring at Julian were five men dressed in police gear; dark grey space-like suites, pairs of cold eyes staring through the clear plastic eye slits. Guns at the ready and aimed directly at Julian, the first pulled him close to his mask-like helmet and stared into his eyes.

  “Farfella wants a word with you, so no running away now.” He turned Julian around again and pushed him forward, the point of the pistol shunted into his lower back.

  Julian’s heart was racing, doubts and fears growing with each passing second. He had wanted to help save Ilona, but not this way!

  They made their way to the nearby road and forced Julian inside a very sleek limousine. As he fell roughly into his seat, a round man ahead of him looked up and smiled widely. Raising a small, thin glass he began to talk.

  “Well hello Julian, I am Nusrat Farfella – Parisian mafia and someone not to be dealt with. I understand you saw something last night. Another eye witness for Ms. Ilona’s kidnapping. Drink?”

  Farfella poured another glass and placed it on the side bar along the inside of the white limousine interior.
  
  “N-No thanks,” Julian replied hesitantly.

  “Hmm, too bad. It’s a good shot. What do they call it? Oh yes, Reposé – my favourite.” He had an evil glint in his eyes as he winked, taking a final sip and putting the glass aside. “Now you’re here because you were foolish enough to come along. You see, I too am after Ilona because she has something that I want. But I’m not the only one. There’s that Karas after her as well. But I found out that you had some important information, and Mr. Julian – you will tell me that information. Why, might you ask? Well, it’s simple. If you won’t help me, I’ll simply dispose of you – easy? I want to find out why Ilona is just so God-damned important!”

  Julian nodded, his heart racing, trying to remember everything from the night before. After all, his life depended on his memory.

  “Good. So tell me then – what exactly happened last night?” Julian spoke softly and carefully relaying all the details from what he saw the night before. It wasn’t a long process and soon enough he stopped. Farfella nodded slowly and poured himself another Reposé.

  “Excellent, that’s all I needed to know.” With a smile he took a sip and pulled out a pistol. He put the glass down and waved the pistol at the door. “We’re going to have a nice talk to Mr. Dellenbach now, and you’re coming with us.” He had a small, evil grin and a flash in his eyes. “You’ll be our bargaining tool.”

  The men dressed as policemen opened the door and pulled Julian out. Farfella came next and they strolled through the large Avalon Headquarters courtyard and made their way to Mr. Dellenbach’s office. The secretary ducked under her desk at the sight of the fake policemen and Julian and Farfella and his men strolled right into Mr. Dellenbach’s office.

  After shutting the door behind him, Farfella strolled forwards with Julian held at gunpoint. Farfella’s men dispersed throughout the room quietly and waited as Farfella and Julian stood directly in front of Dellenbach’s desk.

  Mr. Dellenbach looked up as Julian’s figure loomed over his desk and surveyed the scene before him. “May I help you?” he asked fearfully.

“Mr. Dellenbach,” Farfella began, “We have some talking to do about Ms. Ilona’s kidnapping. This young man here tells me he saw the kidnapper last night, or who he thought was the kidnapper. But my real question is – with all the information I have already acquired – what exactly is it that she was working on?”

  Mr. Dellenbach was quiet for a moment and then spoke softly. “Working on increasing everyone’s quality of life. I am saddened that –”

  “Are you willing to risk your statement on say . . . this man’s life?” Farfella grinned gloatingly, wheeling Julian about revealing the gun in his side. Farfella’s men pulled their rifles out and aimed them at Dellenbach. “Now you may be the Vice-President of this company, but I control all of Barbés and can bring you down quite easily you son of a bitch! I want this information now and I won’t hesitate to kill this man in return! Got it?” He twisted the pistol into Julian’s ribs.

  Mr. Dellenbach looked horrified at the scene that was unfolding before him. “I-I . . . She was . . .” He couldn’t take his eyes off the pistol that was clutched in Farfella’s hand.

  “Yes?” Farfella asked hanging off every sound that came out of Dellenbach’s quivering mouth.

  With a heavy sigh, Dellenbach let the words rush from his mouth. “The Renaissance Protocol . . . She was basically God.” He closed his eyes and shook his head; the guilt and surrender overcoming him. His weaknesses ashamed even himself.

  Julian was thrown onto the desk sending metallic gadgets scrambling off onto the office floor. The guards moved in and all surrounded Dellenbach with guns pointed at him.

  “What is it?” Farfella breathed. He was only inches from Dellenbach’s shuddering face.

  “She became mother nature.” Dellenbach’s words only deepened the riddle, but the door behind them was forced open.
Parisian police opened fired at once at the scene before them and soon the room was a chamber of pulsating pistols and rocketing rifles. Within moments Julian, three of Farfella’s men and all the policemen were dead; taken in blood-shed, rage and a costly devotion to freedom. Julian had lived and died for Ilona, for her sake.

  Only Dellenbach, Farfella and two of his men remained alive. For a moment Farfella stared past the bloody office to Dellenbach. With a slight wink he walked from the room with the information he needed – victory.