The Games of Kings

Chapter Three


They frantically ran for across the hall but Ramsey pulled Chris short before he could yank open the door.

"Carefully," was all Ramsey said at Chris' angry look.

Chris took a deep breath, knowing that he was right and he couldn't help Uncle Benedict if he was hurt in the process too. He turned to watch as Ramsey eased the door open, body protected by the wall. The door swung open, their eyes widening in shock. Embedded in the door were several knives, some with hilts still quivering from the force of the impact.

"Benedict? Dylan? Alicia? You all right?"

"Just fine and dandy, Ram." Benedict's voice was sarcastic and irritated. "Get your asses in here and help us!"

The two men exchanged wide eyes stares then stepped into the dining room together. They froze, hands clamping over mouths to muffle inappropriate laughter. Their friends were mostly unharmed but pinned to the wall like insects by knives of varying sizes and shapes. But the knives didn't go through their clothing or body. No, rather, the knives very closely outlined their bodies, sharp edges at various angles so that if they moved they would be cut. Dylan's large frame was curled into a ball and there was no way in hell a man that big could be comfortable in that position. Alicia was flat on the ground, knives all around her on the wall and in the ground. Uncle Benedict, Chris thought, had the best pose yet. He looked like a running man frozen in mid-stride.

"That's right, laugh it up." Benedict was obviously far from amused. "Get us out of here!"

Ramsey started to step forward but Chris stopped him. He turned to see Chris smiling, a quietly evil smile. His own evil smile grew when Chris pulled out his cell phone. The one with a camera on it.

"Say cheese, guys."

Chris took the pictures even amidst the threats of violence. Ramsey stood back and laughed.


~*~*~*~*~


"So, if the other rooms are booby trapped, where is the next clue?" Alicia was curled up in the hallway chair.

"Chris, do you remember the other rooms the Game Master singled out?"

The young profiler closed his eyes and tilted his head after his uncle asked the question. "The library, the dining room, the kitchen, the ballroom. They all had weapons cards glued to the back."

Dylan spun in a slow circle. "That leaves the conservatory and the billiards room."

"Well, if I had to guess," Ramsey said dryly, "I'd go with the billiards room."

Smiles broke out as everyone agreed. The team followed Dylan to the billiards, Ramsey and Dylan each taking a side of the doorway, hands on the handle. Chris, Alicia, and Benedict all stood to either side, just in case they were wrong. The two men flung open the doors, yanking back immediately. When nothing catastrophic happened, Ramsey and Dylan cautiously entered the room, weapons at the ready. The others followed behind, eyes roaming the room for more traps.

After all that, when they found the puzzle, it was sitting in plain sight on the pool table. The mahogany wooden box was large and gleamed against the green baize of the full size billiards table. Chris and Benedict watched as the others carefully examined the box and the table for traps before approaching both at their okay. On top of the wooden box was a red block, also made of wood.

Chris picked it up to find writing burned into the wood. "Put me in the nest with all of my brothers and sisters. Once we're all settled in nice and cozy, we'll give you your next clue." He held up the block to show the little chick design seared into the block.

"How?" was all Ramsey could ask. The box was tightly packed with what looked like two lengths of wood of the same size horizontally and a third row made of three columns. He didn't quite see how they were going to fit in another piece. Even one only a fourth of the size of the others.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to solve this here." Benedict pushed at the box, showing the others why. It didn't budge when he pressed against it.

"Let's take a closer look."

Ramsey hid a smile when Chris climbed onto the billiard table, settling cross-legged on the green baize. His smile grew even wider as Alicia followed his suit. At Chris' direction, Alicia used her knife to lift up one section of wood from the box. One by one, they removed the top two rows; the first section was a solid piece of wood that ran the height and width of the inside of the box. The second row turned out to be a stud cut small enough to fit in the box lengthwise. Then they pulled out the last row which did turn out to be three studs of the same exact measurements as each other, standing on their ends. Pulling those out revealed that there were two more square pieces of wood under the second row. The last pieces appeared to be the same size as the red block.

"Take a look," Alicia suggested after they pulled everything out of the box. Her hand was still in the box, so Ramsey and the others leaned forward. She depressed the bottom of the box. "I think it's a pressure plate. Once all the pieces are in there correctly, the weight will be distributed correctly and press the plate down."

"And after that, who knows?" Benedict asked.

Alicia shrugged and Ramsey seriously did not like the sound of that. It could be another booby trap and he said so.

"I don't think so," Chris murmured, already playing with the pieces, stacking them this way and that. "Uncle Benedict, didn't the other case files say that once they found the clue they were safe from any attacks?"

"Yes, but just because it's held true in the past doesn't mean he won't change his motive operandi." Benedict pointed out.

"That's true." Chris shrugged. "We'll have to take our chances." He went to playing with the blocks, the others offering suggestions every so often.

Ramsey spotted an armchair that would give him the perfect vantage point of being able to see both the door and Chris and the puzzle. He settled into it, resting an ankle across a knee, gun still in hand and flashlight lying readily in reach. He continued to watch them stack and restack, pack and repack the box with the blocks. He let the others at it, because frankly, this wasn't his area of expertise.

More than one person had questioned the wisdom of putting him in charge of a behavioral analysis unit. After all, shouldn't a unit like that have someone who had a doctorate in psychology in charge? What did a homicide detective turned FBI agent specializing in Violent Crimes know anything about profiling? But Assistant Director Hannigan had given the team leadership to him any way. When asked why, she said that intellectuals needed to be balanced out by instinct and experience and those he had in spades.

It also didn't hurt that he was smart enough to understand what the intellectuals were saying and knew how to direct their intelligence. How many times had he had to get his profilers back on track? How many times had he had to pull Dylan away from some fascinating bit of technology to get back to the problem at hand? He thanked Hannigan for her foresight in assigning Alicia to his team; otherwise, the team would not have worked. He was so busy watching and corralling the brains, he had no time to deal with mundane things like expense reports or public relations. Alicia excelled at those things, multitasking like it was breathing and walking.

The rest of his team was just as eclectic. Dylan, as their computer and technology expert, had been headhunted by the FBI from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. His brilliance in hacking into secure databases and pulling connecting electronic threads from thin air had let him write his own ticket, right down to keeping his completely non-regulation dreadlocks. It also didn't hurt that Dylan was also into hand to hand combat. His skills with a gun were average, but put him in a knock down drag out brawl and he'd kicked Attila the Hun's ass to the curb.

Benedict Hardy was this close to retirement and that was why the bureau allowed him to mentor his nephew on the same team. He was the best they had on this coast and when Chris showed the same aptitude as his uncle, the FBI quickly bent rules and allowed family to work together. Ramsey had worked with Benedict for the last three years, every since being promoted to team leader, and the old profiler had taught him plenty. But Benedict had been with the bureau long enough to earn his retirement and was thoroughly looking forward to it.

So, he'd brought in his protégé and nephew, Christopher. Chris was a prodigy, simultaneously earning two PhDs before the age of twenty-five and now pursuing a third. On paper, one would think he was the classic nerd, nose in a book and bad with people, but thanks to Benedict, the young man was outspoken and outgoing for the most part. Benedict always said Chris never learn to get along with people his own age because he was always in the company of his older uncle, aunt, and cousins. But for the most part, Chris was not your typical nerd.

So, now that the dangerous part was over, he could kick back and watch the brains at work. Of course, it didn't look like they were getting very far. "Have you guys tried stacking the blocks in there in reverse?"

Four sets of eyes blinked at him. He grinned, lazily standing and joining them at the pool table. He stepped in right between Alicia and Chris, taking advantage of the situation and sliding closer to Chris than he had to. He stacked the blocks into the back into the box but placed the largest pieces at the bottom.

"Ram, that's almost exactly where we started," Chris felt the need to point out.

"Oh ye of little faith." He bumped the young man's shoulder, reached in and flipped one of the blocks that were the same size as the additional red block onto its side. It stuck out at the top.

"That won't work." Benedict shook his head, patting Ramsey in a conciliatory fashion.

"And why not?" Ramsey stopped short of placing the red block into the slot he'd created, letting the piece hover while he waited for a satisfactory reason why not to try it.

"Because the pieces aren't in the box any more." Chris pointed out again.

"Benedict, Chris," Ramsay said their names in a mocking tone that just begged to be hit, he knew. "You have to think outside the box."

Chris, and the others, groaned but let him put the red block in any way. When the inside of the box sank two inches further down, Ramsey smirk.

"Lo and behold."

"Oh shut up," Alicia groused. "He's going to be insufferable now."

"It's okay, Al. I'll beat him up if he gets too annoying." Dylan grinned ferally in his direction.

"Bring it on." Ramsey stood up straight, puffing out his chest. He sent a sideways smirk to Chris, who was laughing through his tightly clamped lips.

"Boys."

Ramsey heard Benedict used that tone with children before, both his own and other people's, so he knew better than to disobey him. "Anyone see anything?"

Chris shook his head from where he was examining the bottom of the box and inside it. Alicia dropped to the floor and crouched down; a triumphant noise heralded her find.

"I'm going to need some help." Her voiced echoed from under the table.

Ramsey dropped down to his knees, flipping to his back to slide under the table like he would while working on his car. Alicia was carefully studying another wooden box that hung down from a compartment under the pool table. It rested on a platform that was connected to the table via steel girders. Tilting his head, Ramsey could see the hydraulics that lowered it into sight. He studied the setup for a second, and then moved to the short side of the pool table. "Dylan, face me."

It was an effort to get Dylan's large frame under the table, but it was doable. Ramsey pushed and the box fell right into long, strong arms.

Ramsey heaved himself off the floor. "We'll open it up at the office. Let's get out of here."


~*~*~*~*~


It was almost disappointingly easy to open the wooden box. They simply lifted the lid completely off. No latch, no lock, no puzzle to solve to get to what was inside. Once inside though, was another story.

"So, what does a half naked Barbie in a wedding dress, a Ken doll with no shirt, a miniature porcelain bathtub, and a bridal bouquet have in common?" Ramsey stared at the items carefully posed on the table.

"And what do these numbers have to do with them?" Chris couldn't resist adding to Ramsey's list. He leaned over his team leader's shoulder, keeping his balance by placing a hand on a board shoulder, to get at the rather long sheet of paper. He liked the strength he felt in that rounded muscle, leaving his hand there for a moment longer than necessary. The paper held series of numbers, some in trios and some in quartets. "This looks like a book code."

"A what?" Dylan glanced up from his food, a huge sandwich the size of a hardback novel was already half devoured.

"A book code." Chris walked to the white board, grabbing a marker on the way. He wrote a number, followed by a dot, then another number, a dot, and then another number. "Usually, a book code has sets of three numbers. The first number represents the page number. The second is the line number and the third indicates the word in that line that needs to be used. Once the book code is interpreted, it gives us a message." Chris frowned, turning back to the table. "The hard part is figuring out which book the Game Master used to create this book code."

"Well, I say we leave it for tomorrow. I'm exhausted." Benedict bit back a yawn even as the words came out of his mouth.

"I agree." Ramsey stood, shuffling together papers and files. "Everyone go home."

Chris eyed the objects from the puzzle box. "You sure?"

Ramsey shook his head, sliding an arm around slim shoulders. "Definitely. Vanessa Hubert is probably scared out of her mind but she can live comfortably in that apartment for a while yet and we can't think if we're dead on our feet. C'mon."

Chris nodded, almost unconsciously slotting himself to fit into Ramsey's side. Once they reached the bullpen, the others were at their desks, gathering their things. Ramsey let Chris go so he could do the same. They all left the FBI building together, a slightly staggering, exhausted group.


~*~*~*~*~*~


Even though it was late, Ramsey was not surprised to find nearly everyone in his family still wide awake and up and about. But then again, it was Saturday and the children didn’t have school tomorrow.

“Hi, Mom, Dad. Allen, Mary.” He kissed his mother and mother-in-law on their cheeks and clamped a hand down on his father-in-law’s shoulder. His father patted him on the back and pushed a plateful of food in front of him. He smiled in thanks and tucked in. He could hear his four children laughing against the tinny music that seem to be the soundtrack to all things animated. “What are they watching?”

“How the Grinch stole Christmas,” Mary answered, craning her head to check on them.

Ramsey paused in his eating but shrugged away the fact that it wasn’t Christmas. At least it wasn’t something weird like Teletubbies.

“How’s the case going?” Allen asked. His father-in-law was a former police detective and the man absolutely loved hearing all the tidbits on Ramsey’s cases. So, as he ate, Ramsey filled in his parents and in-laws on the Game Master. Silence greeted his story, then Allen patted him on the back and said with all confidence, “You’ll find her safe and sound.”

Ramsey thanked him, knowing how lucky he was that Allen and Mary Donovan were his in-laws. When he married Laura Donovan, he also got another set of wonderful parents. When they had children, both his parents and her parents had easily shared babysitting duties. But it was when Laura had been killed in a car accident that he realized how truly lucky he was. He had been given ten incredible years with a woman that had made him laugh, made love to him, and gave him four beautiful children. When she died, he had lost a lot. But thanks to her parents and their children, he never truly lost her.

After her death, both his parents and her parents moved into their home to help him with the children. Even though his own family was wealthy and he did not need to work, Ramsey loved his work. So having both sets of grandparents taking care of the children allowed him to keep working. Recently, he had bought the two houses on either side of them so that everyone could have their privacy. After all, he was thinking about Chris a whole lot more now and Joseph was getting into his teenage years and would need his space. Neither father nor son would want parents and grandparents hovering.

“How’s Chris?”

Ramsey rolled his eyes. His mother was not subtle in the least. Well, two could play this game. And really, who worked with FBI profilers? “He’s fine.”

“We enjoyed having him at the picnic,” Mary added, smiling innocently at him.

Ramsey eyed her, then eyed the two men. Those two reprobates were grinning smugly. “It was nice having all of the team here.”

“Well, we would love seeing them more often,” Lillian said, oh so sweetly. “Especially Chris.”

“I’ll be sure to mention that to them.” He hid his grin in his food. Well, at least now he knew how the parents, both sets nonetheless, felt about him and Chris as a possible couple.

Despite the case, things were definitely looking good.


~*~*~*~*~*~


Alicia hummed along to the song as she made her bed, straightening the covers and pillows. She had plenty of time before having to go into work as Ramsey told them to not come in until two hours after their normal start time due to their late night. So, even though Alicia didn't have to be in until later, her biological clock wouldn't let her sleep in late and she decided to indulge in her favorite pastime and some tea in her favorite reading spot. Alicia grabbed the hibiscus mint tea from the cupboard, dancing a little to the music that filled her home as she made the tea just the way she liked it with honey and Splenda. She inhaled with a sigh of pleasure as the fragrance of flowers, mint, and honey filled her kitchen. Carefully cradling the big tea mug, Alicia walked through her kitchen into the living room and straight towards the big, overstuffed lazy boy chair that was kitty cornered between two huge bay windows.

Setting the tea cup on the tiny circular table next to the chair, she reached into the basket at its foot to retrieve her latest book. Romance novels were her guilty pleasure. They were basically all the same: girl meets boy, conflict and sex happen, and then happily ever after. They were uncomplicated and always ended with a good note. She loved reading them to unwind after a long week when they weren't able to stop a killer before he took another victim. The one she had in her hand was the latest by her favorite author.

The book had just come out but with the reappearance of the Game Master, she hadn't had a chance to even crack it open. She ran her fingers across the gold lettering of the author's name and the title. Between the words was a picture of long female legs rising out of a bubble bath. The inside cover showed the hero and heroine in a classic romance novel pose. Alicia froze as what she saw on the covers unfurled in her mind and connected. She raced to her gun safe, gun in her hand within seconds, loaded and ready before her conscious mind even caught up with her. In the other hand, she still clutched the book.