What's Victoria's Secret?

From their table outside on the patio of Café du Monde, Killian and Liam had a perfect view of Jackson Square. The beautiful St. Louis Cathedral sat in front of them and the waves of ships on the Mississippi River, crashed against the shore behind them. From their spot the men could see when Reylin would walk their way.

“Maybe we missed her?”

“If we did, don’t you think she would have called us or reached out somehow. It’s not like this is some sort of secret meeting.” Liam answered roughly.

“We are planning to discuss a possible treasure hunt. The treasure is a priceless artifact, if it is indeed real. I’d think that would be something worthy of a secret.”

“We are not bloody pirates, Killian. Look, I just have a strange feeling about this.”

“You are going to complain about this until we do something-“ Killian tried not to roll his eyes at his brother, failing miserably. “Fine, lets go to the hotel and make sure Reylin is not just sleeping off a terrible hangover. But if I am right and she is just sleeping in or her phone is dead, all drinks are on you tonight.”

“Do you ever stop thinking about rum?” Liam pushed back in his seat.

“Only when I am thinking about whiskey.”

“Alright, so maybe there is something that is a little strange.” Killian spoke after the tenth knock to the hotel room that Reylin checked into.

The boys had made sure they had the right room number when they hadn’t heard a sound after the first few knocks. Liam even went so far as to check and make sure that she hadn’t accidentally checked into the brothers’ room instead of her own. But neither room seemed to be occupied.

“I have an idea. But you are going to have to trust me.”

“Why is it that I never get a good feeling when you say that?” Liam narrowed his eyes to this little brother.

“Because as the older brother you are always suspicious of everything I do. When in fact I am a perfect gentleman.” The smirk plastered on his face was enough to tell anyone the comment was laced with sarcasm.

“Tell that to Scarlett. He is still holding a grudge over the lass in Cartagena.”

“Not my fault that she preferred a sailor who could speak Spanish in more than just a few phrases.” Killian winked. “Just wait here and I will be back in a few minutes.” He finished before heading back in the direction of the front desk.

Fifteen minutes later, Killian was walking back to join his brother with the key to Reylin’s room and a scrap of hotel stationary with the phone number of the perky little brunette at the check in desk. He hadn’t meant to leave with the number, but when he explained his dire need of a room key for his brother to surprise his girlfriend for their anniversary, the woman had made sure to slip it under the key card.

There was an odd feeling surrounding the room when the Jones men entered. It was obvious that someone has been here, yet it was silent. The bed was unmade, the maids hadn’t yet making it to this floor. Someone had clearly been watching TV in the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. A remote lay in the middle of the mattress where three pillows were stacked against the headboard and the sheets pulled back. A suitcase lay open in the corner of the room but none of the clothes had been touched. A cell phone charger plugged into the outlet next to the nightstand. Lamps on, a laptop case sat opened on the desk along with a notebook with pages ripped out.

“Liam.” Killian held up a key ring and what looked to be a coin purse. “Reylin went to the University of Alabama before enlisting, aye?

“Sure. That’s how she ended up at Imperial College. Study abroad program.”

“The lanyard.” The key ring and purse were attached to a crimson and white lanyard dangling from Killian’s right hand. Roll Tide Roll repeated over and over. “Who leaves their keys and purse when leaving their room?”

Shaking his head, Liam didn’t have an answer. It was becoming more and more likely that there was something going on here. Things just weren’t adding up and yet they were. But a kidnapping? Could it really be?

“We cannot file a missing person report. It’s only been three hours.” Liam sighed.

However, Killian just knew there was more that they had yet to find out. “That we know of. Bloody hell, Reylin could have gone missing yesterday morning after she last talked to us.”

Liam simply nodded his head and agreed that they needed to go to the nearest police station and talk to someone about their suspicions. Better to get ahead of this now and find out later that Rey had simply passed out somewhere after a drunken night on Bourbon Street.

Not even minute later a loud knock at the room door.

“NOPD! POLICE! WE ARE COMING IN!”

The click of the lock gave away to the heavy door swinging open, followed by a plain clothes detective.

“NOPD, hands up were we can see them.” The officer with a surprising Irish accent announced.

Killian and Liam complied with their fellow Irishman. Both looked at each other in surprise.

“Seems we don’t have to go out of our way to find a police station. Lucky for us, they found us.” Killian joked.

It only took one look at the woman stepping out from behind the man with his gun trained on the brothers, for Killian’s jaw to drop and all the air to escape from his lungs. Standing in front of him with her blonde hair up in a ponytail, donning her navy blue cap and windbreaker, the white letters of NCIS on display, was the one person he never thought he would see again.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here, love?”

“Don’t you dare call me that! You do not get to call me that.” She raised her gun and regarded him with such anger it caused three faint wrinkles to bunch on her forehead between her brows. Her green eyes full of loathing, dominance, and shock.

She was always sexy when she was angry. He understood her anger and surprise. The last time they had spoken to each other she was storming out of the apartment. She blamed him for the argument and the end of their relationship just as much as he did. Maybe more. Yet they both knew that they had both had a hand in how their relationship had dissolved.

Neither of them had seen or spoken to each other since that night, four years ago. She had her friend bring all of Killian’s things to him, without so much as a note.

While it had pissed him off that she wouldn’t even hear him out and try to work things out, it never mean that he stopped loving her.

His Swan.

Until…

“Liam Jones? You are under arrest for the murder of Petty Officer 2nd Class Reylin Morgan.”

“I tried. That blasted device has been blaring for half an hour.” He pointed to what looked like a previously working alarm clock. Now it was just a pile of wires and plastic parts all across the cabin floor. “Did you go through another bottle again? Killian, when are you going to stop all of your self-loathing?”

Liam Jones, older brother extraordinaire began tossing away empty bottles with a roll of his eyes. He had been there with Killian through everything. The morning their mother passed, Liam was there holding his baby brother as he cried into his shirt. When their father did not come home, it was Liam who watched over his little brother. The day he turned eighteen, Liam fought with everything he had to earn custody of Killian. It meant working two jobs while also making sure that the rebellious Killian attended school and was clothed and fed. By the time Killian was old enough they were both in their respective ports serving in Her Royal Majesty’s Navy.

“Liam, the bloody fucking sun is not even out. Why in God’s name do I need to be up before it’s light out?” The faint pounding in his head increasing with each blink of his eyes. He almost swore someone was wielding a sledgehammer behind his eyes.

“You know better than to take his name in vain, little brother. Did you forget everything you learned in Bible study?”

A sudden memory of a nun slapping a ruler against a chalkboard flashed in Killian’s mind. He didn’t remember everything but he knew the important bits. Jesus turned water into wine. The Ten Commandments. It’s not as if any of it had helped him recently.

“Are you going to tell me why I am sitting awake on wet bed sheets? We are suppose to be on liberty. That means sleeping in.”

“You are only sleeping in because you stayed awake all night. Now put a shirt on and meet me in the Mess. I’ll fill you in over breakfast.” Liam threw a pillow at his brother before leaving.

After a string of incoherent curses, Killian rummaged around his bunk to find his uniform. Without a window in the cabin, he took a guess at what the weather would be like. The coast of Ireland in April could always be deceiving and he was sure Liam was going to take them both out for the day.

It took Killian almost 10 extra minutes to get down to where he was sure his older brother was waiting for him. He could almost hear Liam drumming his fingers against the metal table each time he had to stop because a fellow sailor commented on his red eyes or the dark circles underneath. Every time he opened a bottle he would tell himself that he would only have a shot or two. But two shots would turn into an entire glass, and after two glasses Killian would ditch the useless tumbler and drink straight from the bottle. He knew what would happen. No matter how much water he drank or how many painkillers he took, the result would always be the same. One massive headache and a piss poor mood.

His mood was even worse when he walked into the Mess to find that Liam had a glass of some awful green concoction. It could only be one thing. Liam Brennan Jones’ version of a hangover cure. One thing for sure was that the bloody drink would taste absolutely terrible.

“What ever happened to a good English breakfast after a night out on the town?”

“First of all, you did not spend the night out on the town. You wallowed away in some pub all night only to drink yourself unconscious in your bunk.

Second, you can do whatever you please at the end of the month when you get discharged. Until then you will continue to follow not only the royal navy’s rules but mine as well. I will still be your older brother even when I am no longer your captain.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Killian saluted. “In two weeks you will have a new lieutenant to push around.”

“Aye, sometimes I look forward to the day. But until then you are mine, little brother. Now drink up. I want you more coherent. Something big came about last night.”

“Younger brother.” Begrudgingly, Killian drank his hangover cure. He flagged down one of the steward’s for a proper breakfast, finally settling in for Liam’s big news.

“Are you ready?”

Trying very hard not to roll his eyes, Killian slowly nodded his head. The movement felt like his brain was hitting the inside of his skull but Killian managed not to wince. At least he hoped not.

“We found something!” Liam vaguely explained.

“We? As in you and me? Because I certainly do not remember finding anything of importance. Or do you mean the crew? If that is the case I must be far more hungover than I thought, because I was almost positive our latest mission was a recon.”

“Just shut it you git and let me explain. Petty Officer Morgan…”

“Oh you mean that American you have been chatting with in your free time?” Killian suddenly was more interested in this story. Especially when it involved his prude of a brother and a woman.

“It is not like that Killian and you know it. Get your mind out of the gutter so I can explain. She and I have been emailing back and forth since we meet when you and I were stationed at the U.S. Joint Reserve Base in New Orleans. Reylin is into history same as we are. In fact, she actually did a semester abroad at Imperial College the same time you were in your second year.”

“So she likes history. Sounds like the two of you were made for each other.”

“Stop it, Killian. Would you let me get to the point? She likes history and her favorite subject is lost treasures of the world. She and I have been talking about our hobbies outside of our respective navys and she mentioned looking into an old New Orleans legend. Jean Lafitte.”

If Killian hadn’t been interested before, he was certainly now. While he was not as enthusiastic about history as his brother, Killian Jones did have a love of pirates, fiction or real.

“So you two were talking about a man who was one of the lesser known pirates? What is so important about him?”

“What is important is that to the people in the southern states, Lafitte is not just a second rate pirate. There he is a legend. And before you interrupt me again I wanted to tell you that Morgan has been looking into an old legends about Lafitte. More specifically his last buried treasure.”

“And she found it?”

Pirates and buried treasures had not been what Killian had thought he would be spending his morning talking about. And honestly, he still wished he wasn’t, his bed and pillow were screaming for him to return.

“Not exactly. But she has been digging and she found coordinates to a possible location.”

“Liam, what does this have to do with us?”

“I was thinking that you will be discharged at the end of the month and I will be on leave from my tour. And what better bonding than going on a treasure hunt?”

Killian was thankful that in that moment the steward had brought him his breakfast. He was going to need more protein to get his brain functioning if he was going to deal with Liam and another one of his grand ideas of adventures. The last time the two of them spent bonding time together, Liam ended up in a naval hospital in Brazil after finding out he was highly allergic to a thorny plant in the jungle.

“You want to go on a treasure hunt?” Killian began scanning the room. “Are you pranking me? Or is this some type of documentary for National Geographic? You honestly think it is a good idea for the two of us to fly to the colonies to help a Yankee sailor hunt for an unknown buried treasure? Are you sure you are not trying to impress this lass? Because trying to become Indiana Jones sure sounds like it.”

There was silence between the men as Killian ate and Liam sulked. It was when Killian’s eyes didn’t seem so heavy and his proper posture returned that Liam spoke again.

“You are telling me that you do not want to go? Killian Jones- Mr. ‘I love a challenge’ does not want to help a pretty woman find a long lost treasure? What else would you be doing besides wallowing away in your apartment?”

What was he supposed to say to that? Killian huffed and slouched in his seat. He could tell that Liam knew he had won. 

The next week and a half was spent listening to Liam and Officer Morgan talk about what the possibilities were at the end of the coordinates Reylin had. Killian had to admit that it was all very interesting and that he often found himself wondering what the treasure could be. Realistically he knew that the chance of finding something valuable was slim to near impossible. But it didn’t stop Killian from reading up on Jean Lafitte in his spare time.

As it turned out there was more to the man than it seemed. He had no loyalties to anyone but the person paying him. He looted supplies from ships belonging to Britain, France, and America. But what was interesting was that much of the loot that was stolen was dispersed by Pierre Lafitte, Jean’s half-brother. From his reading, Killian could tell that Jean and Pierre were close. Enough so that he could see the similarities between these brothers and he and Liam.

Jean was the romantic type. A number of legends and tales told of his seduction of women and his charm. Liam had almost choked on his dinner one night when Killian read the latest biography. “Sounds like a certain young lieutenant I know.” He had coughed.

Pierre was more reserved. He was the brains of the operations. It was his job to make sure that all treasures were sold or taken care of. While Jean was out having fun raiding the ships, it was Pierre who was keeping them both out of jail. Until he unfortunately found himself behind bars in a rat infested jail in New Orleans that is. Killian kept that news away from Liam.

Late one-night, Killian sat at his desk lost in a rabbit hole of information. If he was going to go on this adventure with his brother and some American lass, he wanted to know what it was that they were going after. His search started with possible treasures that one might look for with pirate hunting. It was after one in the morning, that Killian ended up on a forum made up of men and women across the world that discussed possible leads in hunts, myths and legends, and even a few experts on famous lost treasures. One post in particular caught Killian’s attention.

The lost treasure of Jean Lafitte is considered one of the world’s greatest lost treasures. It is believed that Lafitte hid the treasure somewhere in the city with clues left behind for his brother to one day find. To this day it has never been recovered.

The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans herself spent much of her life dedicated to finding out what was in the lost treasure of Jean Lafitte. No one knows why she wanted the treasure so badly. Was it for the money? Was the treasure powerful? Could it have possibly been tied to the city? To magic? Was the treasure a person? Perhaps the treasure is the long lost Fleur de Lis.

There were more posts and comments that all led to the same thing. The Napoleon Fleur de Lis. It was a pure gold statue encrusted with the finest cute diamonds and rubies. The fleur de lis itself was priceless without even considering it’s history. Napoleon had the statue commissioned as a physical representation of his family crest. Before his exile the statue had gone missing only for it to turn up in the hands of the American government after the Louisiana purchase. The government then gave the Fleur de Lis to the city of New Orleans as a gift. Years later the very statue went missing again, never to be seen again. At the same time, Pierre Lafitte had been imprisoned for the murder of an American sailor (was later exonerated) and his brother had moved all operations to Galveston.  

This was it. It had to be it. The treasure that Reylin and ultimately Killian and Liam were hunting.

With a quick text message to the group chat between the members saying he found a lead, Killian sat back in his chair with a grin on his face. Maybe this whole treasure hunting thing wouldn’t be so terrible after all. It could be just the distraction he needed from his constant thoughts of her eyes. Or the three faint lines she would get on her forehead when he said or did something that annoyed her.

That night he fell into a restless sleep. Dreams of a conversation from a time long before his own flashed behind his closed eyes. But just before he woke the next morning, the mystery man in Killian’s dreams faded into an image of himself. Green eyes full of tears broke his heart as he spoke to her.

And when the weeds begin to grow,

It’s like a garden full of snow.

And when the snow begins to fall,

It’s like a bird upon the wall.

And when the bird away does fly,

It’s like a raven in the sky.

And when the sky begins to roar,

It’s like a tiger at the door.

And when the door begins to crack,

It’s like a stick across your back.

And when your back begins to smart,

It’s like a penknife in your heart.

And when your heart begins to bleed,

You’re dead and dead and dead indeed.

As the hysteria continued to build, the woman simply pulled her cloak over her head and slipped further into the shadows. While she hadn’t had an encounter with the law and order officials of late, she knew it was best to keep her head down and stay out of trouble. The frenzy of the witch trials in Salem may have been long over, but the rise of Voodoo priests and priestesses had the crescent city on edge. The young woman did not want to be a victim of yet another of the mortal’s cleansing of the supernatural.

As she could hear the frantic and panicked screams of the mortals running from the fire that threatened the entire block, the woman turned the corner towards the church bells ringing in the distance. Just across the street, was the shop she had been looking for.

“It is about damn time, Madame Laveau.” A voice spoke at the opening of the door.

Across the small front room, a man stood facing the roaring fire swirling his drink in his hand. “I thought I was going to have to find someone else to entrust my treasure with.”

The room was lit only by the glow of the flame in the large brick fireplace. It was April in New Orleans and the fire was only for show, a way to set the mood. Pirates always seemed to have a flare for the dramatic.

As the man turned to face his guest, the backlight only highlighted his basic features. A man of average height, hair longer that most, flowing loosely to his shoulders. His body was relaxed but there was something in his posture indicating that he was ready to run at a moment’s notice. It was all she could see at the moment but there was no need for anything more, she knew exactly who this man was.

“I thought you would be long gone by now. Off to Galveston or the islands. Has Jean Lafitte given up his pirate ways?” Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

Grand Isle, off the Louisiana coast, had been Lafitte’s base of operations for years. Since the war, he stationed his outfit on the small island, giving his men great access to naval ships not just from Britain, but from France and even Spain. The port of New Orleans was a host to all nations and those claiming no allegiance to any country. And with that came great treasures and money to be made.

“Piracy is in my blood. Just as magic is in yours.” Jean spoke.

“Why did you ask me here, Lafitte?”

She wouldn’t consider Lafitte a stranger but she certainly would never have had a reason to visit his blacksmith shop. Not when they were both on the wrong side of the law. Two people with strong ties to the city and to sin. Both only looking to help themselves and those they cared about.

“I need you to keep something safe for me and give it to my brother when he is free from prison.”

“You’ve broken him out once before. What is stopping you this time?”

“I have to leave tonight. Pierre has another year behind rusty bars.” He explained as quickly as he could. “I need this to get to him. He will know what it means.”

From beneath a velvet cloth, Jean revealed a large book. It was clearly not meant for reading. The front cover held a type of lock. It bound the entire book together and was obviously meant to keep anyone from getting inside unless they had the secret code.

“A puzzle book? You want to give me a puzzle book? I thought you said you were entrusting me with your treasure.”

It had been known far and wide that Jean Lafitte had accumulated a large quantity of some of the world’s most precious items. It was rumored that he hid gold from South America that could be tied to El Dorado. Marie didn’t care where it came from, all she cared about was what that treasure could buy. She had dreams of running the city and only money and fear could help her achieve her goals.

“Oui. But everyone knows that no good treasure comes without a hunt. This is Le Chiffre Indechiffrable.” His index finger traced over the spinning wheel of the lock on the book’s front cover. “An unbreakable code. It requires a word to open and only two people know what it is, chère.”

“Ah. You are giving me a clue to the actual treasure.” Her interest was still high. If he did not tell her the way to unlock it, she would use her own ways. There was a spell for everything if you wanted it bad enough.

“Oui.”

“And what is this treasure?”

“All I will say is the city will be missing it dearly. I have written my brother. He knows to come find you. Keep it safe.”

Without another word he left the clue book to be safely guarded in hopes that his brother would retrieve it.

But the Queen of Voodoo had other ideas. She spent the next sixty years of her life trying to find the word or words that would open the clue book. She used every spell she could think of from every coven in the city. When magic failed her, church was her next step. Everyday Madame Laveau would attend mass at St. Louis Cathedral in hopes that the sermon that day would reveal something that would help her obtain the clue. Yet every evening she was left staring at a book that only taunted her.

Upon her death, the book had been hidden away. If the greatest Voodoo priestess was not deemed worthy enough for a treasure such as this, Laveau made sure that no one was going to have it. She set in place rumors of Lafitte’s greatest treasure and that the clue to finding it was buried away in New Orleans in a place only she knew. She made sure that even in her afterlife she would have mortals praying and worshipping her in hopes of one day finding the treasure.