The waiter's name was MaliK JACKSON. That was all the information Henri got about it, though. The boy had a knack for dodging every question thrown his way. While the lack of answers didn't help soothe his growing anxiety, he couldn't be too upset. After all, Malik had saved his life.
With the off-duty waiter's help, Henri and Thea managed to flee the masked gunmen. They lost them at the construction site and eventually found themselves hiding in the backseat of Malik's old pickup truck. They were parked in a multi-tiered structure near the museum. The rain continued to fall from the black sky, the noise drowning out every other noise in the semi-populated car lot.
They hadn't seen the gunmen since they evaded them, which happened about thirty minutes ago, but Henri couldn't stop biting his nails. Once his cuticles had been reduced to nubs, he resorted to fiddling with the cufflinks of his suit.
He called Jeffrey to let him know he and Thea were safe. The old man sounded like he'd been bawling his eyes before he picked up. Their conversation was short, as Henri didn't want to take the risk of having his phone tracked by the people who kidnapped his parents. Following the phone call, he sank into his seat.
No one said anything as they sat in Malik's car. The radio wasn't even on. Their soundtrack consisted of choppy breaths, the occasional sound of someone shifting in their seat, and the incessant rain outside.
The silence gave Henri time to think, too much time to his liking. His psyche wasn't a place he liked to frequent often. After tonight, he had half a mind to board it up and put it up for sale. They'd be getting a decent deal—a near-genius level intellect with slight daddy issues and bad taste in men.
Henri squeezed his eyes shut as images of the night's events replayed in his head. He saw his father with blood rushing from his nose. He saw the gunmen grabbing his mother. He saw the stolen map in Sergei's grubby hands.
The memories were clear enough to convince him he'd never even left The Smithsonian. Times like these are what caused him to loathe his abnormal hippocampus. While other people's memories often were flawed and largely inaccurate, his weren't. They were clear and vibrant and permanent. He was an attorney's dream eyewitness. His professors back in London loved him for it. Other students didn't quite share their views. He remembered how they'd beg him to spout off random useless facts he'd memorized as if he were a walking search engine. His lips morphed into a scowl.
He couldn't forget those memories, nor could he forget what happened tonight.
A shiver wormed its way down his spine as he buried his face into his clammy hands.
"You two alright back there?" Malik finally asked from the driver's seat of his truck. His fingers were curled around the old leather of the steering wheel. He kept his head on a swivel, eyeing every inch of the parking lot around them. "It's way too quiet in here."
"I'm not sure alright is the right word," Thea began, "but we're safe."
For now.
"Who were those guys?" Malik asked.
"How're we supposed to know? They just showed up."
Henri's face remained in his hands, his eyes covered by his palms. His brain was involuntarily combing through everything that'd happened up until this part. He stopped on a single word his mother uttered before the gunmen burst into the museum.
"Arkangel."
Thea and Malik shot him confused glances. "Huh?"
"Mom said something about Arkangel right before we were attacked," Henri explained. He lifted his head. "She couldn't have been talking about Arkangel Industries, right?"
The look on his sister's face suggested otherwise. Her gaze dropped to her hands, and he could see her jaw working as she contemplated something.
"Arkangel Industries? Those are the guys who built that machine that created the superheroes right?" Malik inquired.
"No, that was Nexus. Different company." Henri rolled his eyes. "Arkangel Industries specializes in technology and medicine. They recently developed a cure for Alzheimer's." He turned to Thea, who had yet to look at him. "Why the hell would they want that map badly enough to send a team of mercenaries after us?"
Sergei and his men weren't affiliated with any military. There were no flags, logos, or badges on their all-black uniforms, but they moved with enough precision and competency that suggested they'd been professionally trained. His parents had previous run-ins with guns-for-hire on previous expeditions, but nothing like this had ever happened. They didn't deal with guns or drugs. They dealt in the artifact game. Ancient documents, revitalized art pieces, and things of that nature. They were explorers, historians, and scholars. As far as Henri knew, they had no enemies.
Then again, he'd been gone for two whole years. Who knows what happened between then and now?
Unfortunately, his parents weren't around for him to ask. They were gone, taken by nameless men, and carted off to who knows where. Tears welled in his eyes. Sniffling angrily, he wiped them away before they could fall.
"This couldn't have been Arkangel." Thea's voice lingered just above a whisper. "I mean...they wouldn't do something like this."
"You sound like you're trying to convince yourself," Malik pointed out.
"Okay, look." Thea glanced out the window before facing her brother. "Arkangel offered Mom and Dad a job a few weeks ago. They declined—"
Henri's ears perked up. "A job? What kind of job?"
"I don't know. They never told me. And they also never told me why they said no. But whatever the offer was made Dad start acting weird."
"Weird how?"
Thea paused. "I dunno, it's hard to explain. He would spend more time than usual in his study. I'd be getting home from a party, and he'd still be in there with the light on."
Henri blinked rapidly as the gears in his head started turning. Their mansion on the outskirts of Maryland had a plethora of rooms—a lot more than they needed. His father's favorite was the attic, which he'd transformed into a hybrid between study and library. It wasn't abnormal for him to spend entire days up there toiling away on whatever project that held his attention at the time.
"What was he working on?" Henri asked.
"That's the thing," Thea began, "he wouldn't tell me. He barely would tell Mom about it." She let out an annoyed sigh before folding her arms. "He even put a passcode on the door so we couldn't get in."
Henri frowned. Now that was weird.
The study was meant for everyone, not just Simon Beck. Henri recalled the times when he would spend hours getting lost in the dozens of bookshelves holding books from all over the world. Those were some of the more pleasant memories that lived inside his head. He wished he could've held on to those instead of the others.
"Arkangel wouldn't do this," Thea repeated. "I mean, it doesn't make sense. Why would they send a strike team to a museum?"
Henri's eyes widened. "The map." Something his father said exploded into his mind like a Chinese firework. "Whoever's behind this is looking for something. A library, to be specific."
Malik turned in his seat. "Er, you're telling me those dudes robbed a museum for a map to some old-ass library?" He laughed. "Kind of anti-climactic, don't you think?"
Henri didn't find the humor in his statement. "If someone like Arkangel is looking for a library, best believe there's something important in there." He turned to Thea. "Mom and Dad's most recent expedition took them through Egypt, right?" He didn't know why he bothered asking her. He already knew the answer. Regardless, Thea nodded. "What library is in Egypt? Or, rather, was in Egypt." Another rhetorical question he knew the answer to.
"Egypt's like a million years old, dude," Malik said while scratching the top of his hair. "I'm sure there were a ton of libraries there."
"Yeah, true," Henri said quickly. "But there's one, in particular, worth noting."
"And which one is that?"
"The Great Library of Alexandria."
Thea tilted her head at him. "You of all people should know that library doesn't exist anymore. It's one of the greatest tragedies in human history."
Henri nodded. "The library was said to have every copy of every text that existed at the time. Millions of manuscripts were said to have been lost when it burned." He pointed out the window at no one in particular. "But someone who's looking for it just stole a map. Why would they steal a map to somewhere that doesn't exist?"
Thea's brows knitted together as she pondered his inquiry.
"This sounds a whole lot like those conspiracy videos my little brother watches," Malik quipped. "I mean, you guys said it yourself, that library doesn't exist anymore. And if it did, why hasn't it been found already?"
Henri squinted at him. The boy might've been cute, but his critical thinking skills were severely lacking. I guess you can't have both.
"He brings up a good point, Henri," Thea chimed in. "If the Library of Alexandria really was still around somewhere, someone would've found it already. I mean, if that map those people stole leads to it, why hadn't it been found before Mom and Dad got their hands on it?"
Now it was Henri's turn to go quiet. He didn't have an answer to Thea's question.
He knew his father would've, though. Unfortunately, Simon Beck wasn't here. However, he knew exactly where to go to get the next best thing.
"Uh oh." Thea shook her head at him. "You've got that look in your eyes."
He pursed his lips at her. "What're you talking about? What look?"
"You know what I mean. It's that little glint in your eye you get whenever you get an idea," she told him. "I saw that same look when you suggested we sneak off during our vacation in Peru. Great idea, by the way."
He smiled sheepishly as his cheeks reddened at the memory of their Peruvian adventure. Despite occurring a few years ago, the embarrassment was fresher than ever. They'd been taking a tour of Machu Picchu when he had the brilliant idea to wander off. After he nearly rolled down the hill like an errant rock, he made it a point to never do anything like that ever again.
"This isn't another Peru situation, trust me." Henri glanced at Malik, who was twisting the ring on his middle finger. "Hey, would you mind doing us another huge favor?"
"Er, what is it?"
"I need you to drive us to our house."
"Er...where do you live?"
"Not too far away. Our house is in Somerset."
Malik's nose crinkled at the mention of the sleepy town on the outskirts of northern Maryland. Henri couldn't fathom why. He didn't even have an opinion on the place. Nothing ever happened there. Good or bad. It was just kind of...there.
"Somerset's like an hour away. I've got to—"
"Henri, we can't go home," Thea interjected. "If those people knew to hit the event tonight, who's to say they aren't waiting for us there?"
He swallowed hard. She'd brought up a good point. The gunmen likely could've canvassed their house and set a trap for them. On the flip side, they might have abandoned their chase and been content with their capture of Simon and Aminata Beck. After all, they were the valuable ones. Henri and Thea didn't even fully know what was going on.
If they were to find out what they were up against, he needed to get to his father's study.
That meant he had to go home.
"Thea, I've got to get to Dad's study. If we want any chance of figuring out what happened, I have to see what he was working on."
"Or we could just go to the police."
Malik snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that."
Thea lifted a brow at him. "Look, I hate the police just as much as the next girl, but multiple crimes were just committed against us tonight. We should probably let them know."
Henri weighed her suggestion. After the stunt those men pulled at The Smithsonian, local police likely knew what happened. There were plenty of witnesses in that museum. Local police wouldn't be able to do anything about a group of mercenaries like that, though. If they wanted outside help, the FBI was their best bet.
Who knew what can of worms going to them would open, though?
"We'll head home first," he started, "and then we'll consider the rest of our options."
"Henri, I really don't think this is a good idea," Thea stressed. Her green eyes pleaded for him to listen, but she didn't see things the way he did. She never did.
"Jeffrey told me he was heading back to the house after he talked to the police. He might even already be there. If those men were there, I'm sure he'd warn us." He grabbed his sister's hand and squeezed it gently. "I know I'm your little brother and everything, but I need you to trust me on this, okay? Going back home is our best shot at figuring out what's going on."
She studied his face for a moment with her features drawn tightly together. After a while, she sighed. "Fine." Before Henri could speak again, she pressed a finger into his chest. "But if this goes wrong in any way, just know I tried to warn you."
"It won't go wrong."
It wouldn't.
"You know," Malik began while turning the key in his truck's ignition, "I never even agreed to take you guys. Somerset's like an hour away. That's a decent drive and my truck's on its last legs." The engine coughed and sputtered to life as if adding on to its owner's words.
Henri lifted a speculative brow at him. "Why'd you start the engine then?"
"Because I'm feeling charitable today. Now, be quiet before I change my mind."
Leaning back into his seat, he did as he was told.
Within a few moments, their new friend had them out of the parking lot and cruising down the wet roads of Washington D.C. toward Somerset, Maryland.
#
The sound of Malik's muted grumbling and his sister's light snores lifted Henri out of his slumber. He'd fallen asleep with his head resting against the window of the truck. Thea's head was on his shoulder, her dark hair covering her sleeping face. He carefully rubbed his eyes, careful not to wake her up. Squinting, he peered out the glass next to him.
It was still nighttime. According to Malik's dashboard, it was a little after midnight Blinking stars dotted the sky. Henri lingered on them for a few moments. He's spent his entire life in sprawling, metropolitan areas—New York City, Johannesburg, London. The stars were never visible there. Seeing them now as Malik's truck sped down the highway put him at ease.
A tiny sliver of the moon peeked through the thick, smoky clouds as if to personally greet Henri's eyes as they passed beneath it. The rainstorm had lessened to a slight drizzle. The truck's wipers squeaking over the wet windshield blended in with the sound of the tires rolling against the ground.
Henri shifted his gaze to Malik, who had continued to talk to himself under his breath.
"Tonight was meant to be an easy shift. Walk around with a few trays. Point people toward the bathrooms. But no! You had to be a good Samaritan. Now you're driving two millionaire kids to their stupid mansion—" He glanced at the rearview mirror before looking over his shoulder at the tired boy in his backseat. "Oh. You're awake."
"Unfortunately."
"Cheer up. Things could be worse."
"Worse than nearly dying after seeing my parents get kidnapped?"
"At least they're still alive."
Henri's jaw clenched as he dropped his gaze to the floor. They were—as far as he knew. Their captors likely spared their lives. Henri remembered what Sergei told his father before taking him. Whoever was looking for the Library of Alexandria wouldn't be able to find it with the map alone. They needed an expert. That's why they needed Simon Beck.
"What about your parents?" Henri asked suddenly.
"Huh?"
"Aren't they worried about you? You probably won't make it back home tonight."
He chuckled. "That's nothing new. Besides, Ma' won't miss me. Well, she might since I'm not there to help her take care of my siblings."
Henri blinked. "How many do you have?"
"Two. A little brother and sister."
Malik was a big brother. No surprise there. He gave off big brother energy.
"Well, after you take us home, you can get back to them." Henri offered him a smile. "Thanks, again. Honestly, we owe you one. I'm sure my dad has some money laying around the house somewhere. We can pay—"
"Stop."
"Huh?"
"I don't need your money." Malik snorted.
Henri frowned. "I was just trying to be nice. After all, you saved our lives. There's gotta be some way we can repay you."
"Look, I didn't help you guys so you'd pay me," he replied, his voice sharper than a machete. "I did it because it was the right thing to do. Grams taught me that if I can help someone who needs help, then I'd better help them. Without expecting anything in return. Good karma and whatnot. So, I get that your parents are millionaires or whatever, but you can keep your money."
Henri didn't quite understand. Judging by the state of Malik's truck and the fact that he worked nights at a museum, he surely could've used the money. Anyone else would've jumped at the chance to take a payday from the Beck family. Plenty of people tried.
But not Malik. He eyed the boy curiously as if he were a cipher.
"Grams...is that what you call your grandmother?"
He nodded. "The lady practically raised me. My folks...nevermind."
"I know how that is," he wanted to say. But he didn't. It didn't feel appropriate; besides, Malik already seemed to have a preconceived notion of the Becks in his head. No use in trying to change his mind. Instead, Henri simply said, "Your grandmother sounds like a great woman."
"The greatest."
Henri opened his mouth to ask another personal question, but Thea accidentally hit him in the face with her hand, causing him to forget his inquiry. Rubbing his cheek, he scowled at the girl.
"Watch it," he grumbled.
"Suck it up, you big baby." She looked at Malik. "Are we there yet?"
"Er, yeah, actually. At least I think so. Never been this far west before." He eased his truck off the highway and down a desolate road framed by massive pine trees. Their leafy canopies reached out toward them like the wings of angels. Rain dripped from the needles as if they were droplets leaking from a faucet.
Henri's face lit up as he gazed upon the familiar roads. With every passing second, they grew closer to the gated estate at the end of the street. It stood proud in the distance, all three stories of it staring back at them. He smiled as a warm wave of relief washed over him.
Moments later, they arrived outside the high, iron-wrought gates. After Malik typed in the code to unlock the barrier, courtesy of Thea, they approached the impressive Beck Estate.
Huge brick chimneys stemming from the black-shingled roofs reached for the night sky. Moonlight glinted off the dozens of windows dispersed throughout the massive structure. Malik eased them up the pavement toward the driveway—which was wide enough to fit an entire collection of cars. Perfectly trimmed lawns and hedges framed the mansion. Despite being built centuries ago, the estate couldn't have been in better condition. Somehow it looked even better than it did when Henri left it years ago.
He smiled as Malik brought the truck to a stop.
"You guys live here?" His eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
"Yep," Thea answered as she opened the passenger side door. "It's not all it's cracked up to be. It takes me five minutes just to get to the kitchen from my room."
"Yeah, that doesn't sound like an issue to me," Malik said. "My entire bloodline could fit in this place."
Henri's smile slipped a bit. He opened his car door and stepped outside.
As he gazed upon the place where he was raised, he couldn't help but lose himself in the memories rushing back to him. They enveloped him like his mother's arms. This huge oak tree off to the left was where he spent his afternoons reading. The garage was where he built his first science project. The attic was where he discovered his love for books.
This place was home.