Honeymoon

[Lanakov]

As Loyola was speaking, Montlaville had picked up a pack of cigarettes. Gauloise Blonde, of course. As she produced an elegant lighter, she took an interrogative look at the ensign, who politely shook his head. She lit up the Gauloise, and acrid smoke soon began to fill the air and create a thin cloud overheads. Not what I expected, she thought. Not so long ago, this woman was covered in filth and distraught beyond recognition. And here she was, acting like a pretty little queen... And... What was that ? Offering to make a public transmission and go with a cover story ?! No. No no no no.

Montlaville took a long drag on her cigarette, and exhaled slowly, in Enma's direction.
"So let me sum this up. You are sooo very grateful for our help that you'd like to jump at the opportunity and get in league with us, openly accusing our enemies of your kidnapping. I am correct thus far, yes ?"
Not waiting for a reply, she continued, her cigarette glowing in her hand. Montlaville had uttered the sentence with no body motion : she wasn't naturally expansive... And most of all, she knew very well what information body language could transmit. And thus, learned to divulge as little of it as possible.
"You would have us expose yourself through OUR channels, in order to tell a lie about your own kidnapping, that you, as you've rather bluntly admitted just now, know NOTHING about. You, that I barely know anything about. You waltz in here, tied and famished, captured by... Eliza Valdez ? De Loyola ? Your spouse ?!" She had just connected that particular dot. She had several pieces of the puzzle but it wasn't clear by ANY stretch of the word yet. "Oh, dear. This is even more of a bordel than I anticipated. Your life really is a mess, isn't it ?" She watched Enma intently. She had visibly recovered, but her air remained vague. Barely a hint of internal turmoil. She's good.

"Place yourself in my shoes for a moment. You've got this runaway almost delivered to you on a silver platter, wanted by scores of powerful people, with ties to two of the largest organisations in Sirius... who claims to have no clue as to how or why she found her way to you, or was even kidnapped in the first place, and in the same sentence, practically begs you to pin her own kidnapping on your enemies... But to what end ? For what goal ? Our friendship" Montlaville had to admit she wished she knew more about this person. She was of paramount importance to at least some people - else she wouldn't have found herself in such a dire situation - but she'd never come upon her file. She never had a reason to, up until now. Royal dealings with the Core had been conducted rather secretly, and outside of her jurisdiction. Something escaped her, and she could feel Loyola was hiding something from her. And Montlaville could never abide secrets.

"From there, you can probably see why, for security reasons, I won't let you near any sort of communication device at present, at least until we've sorted all of this out. This could be a ruse in so many ways, with the potential to cause so much damage to us. I know it, because it's my job. And I suspect you know it too : you'd need to be this smart in order to survive for so long, living the life you had. I cannot risk it : you could just as well tell everyone where you are and to enact revenge upon us, before we'd be able to put you down. And we've got enough problems to deal with as it were. So here's what we're going to do. You're going to enjoy a good night's rest in one of my luxurious cells. Courtesy of our hospitality you seem to enjoy. That'll help you refocus and find your feet : you must still be shaken... And there's a lot more we need to discuss." An unusual hint of menace there. Montlaville could get aggressive when she felt she was being lead on. "In the meantime, I'll check on your wife. You will see her soon."

She and the ensign got up. He knocked at the door, and two fusiliers entered the room. They took Loyola to one of the Guillestre's brigs, a different one than Valdez's. She was placed in a modest cell, furnished with a single bed designed to be austere, a sink and a toilet. It was about as bare as cells get, but it was clean, and she was alone. Some down time on her own will prepare her better for what's to come next.

---

Before she went to visit Valdez, Montlaville headed to her personal quarters and accessed her computer, which was linked to the GRI's archive : this contained files of all people of interest to the Kingdom, Gallic and non-Gallic. She found Loyola's dossier soon enough and thoroughly went through it... Only to find that it contained what she knew already. Known but unspecified ties to the Maltese society, leadership of the Core paramilitary, traces of past dealings here and there... And a LOT of classified material. Classified ?! With HER level of security clearance ? That never happened ! That couldn't possibly happen. As befitted her rank and position, Montlaville was informed of everything even remotely connected to Gallic interests, including the Alien Threat. The only exception to this was... Ah. Royal affairs, which were kept to a ridiculous level of secrecy. Oh, great. The plot thickens...

---

With that lead essentially useless, Montlaville decided it was time to hear the other side of the equation, before they reunited the spouses. There were many holes in Loyola's story, compounded by her urgent willingness to cooperate without anything in return... And her offer of going public with a "different version" of the events... Different from what ? There was no truth here, only vagueness. The Capitaine de Vaisseau Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup never acted on vagueness.

And with that, she opened Eliza Valdez's cell, flanked by two fusiliers.
"Madame Valdez. We need to talk. Please, follow me."


A brief moment passed before the two women found their way into the room. The fusiliers exited just as ensign Paoli entered, bringing coffees. From their smell, Montlaville deduced they were exactly at the right temperature. We're getting there.

Eliza Valdez looked in a much better shape than Enma Loyola had when she arrived at the same conference room hours earlier. Not a big surprise considering she was the kidnapper and not the kidnappee. She had been offered no comforts other than food, given the context. Befitting her temperament, Montlaville went to the point.
"Madame Valdez. I am the capitaine de vaisseau Isabelle Montlaville de Chanteloup, whom you will address as "Commandant". Before you say anything, I'd like you to know that I've already interviewed your spouse. You'll be pleased to know she's recovering quite well from her ordeal and has already offered us to publicly denounce you. I understand that particular information would be of great interest to a significant amount of parties." She paused for effect, and to inspect Valdez. Her initial panic seemed to have washed off of her, and she merely looked drained at this moment.

"Now that this has been established, you will understand that I'm curious as to your side of this story. What could push you, a seemingly respectable member of this Core paramilitary and loving wife, to stuff your spouse in your cargo hold and take her through the Taus, right beneath our inquisitive noses ? I do not wish, nor have I a reason to forcefully demand this information from you. However, nothing compels me to release you, either : as you've seen, the Guillestre has plenty of room, and your actions fall in the category of human trafficking, which is about as illegal as illegal gets. Your help would make my job a whole lot easier, and we could put this all behind us all the quicker." With that, she pushed a cup of coffee in Valdez's direction.

"So then, madame Valdez... De Loyola. What's your story ?"

---

Feedback, insults, marriage proposals and declarations of fealty

If everyone was a bit more like Lanakov, the entire world would be more positive. Including pregnancy tests.