Chapter 14: Arrival in France - Alessi and Hol Horse
His name was Dio Brando. A century ago, he had been transformed into an immortal vampire by the power of the Stone Mask, only to be defeated by his eternal rival, Jonathan Joestar, in a battle that sent them both to a watery grave. Sealed in the depths of the ocean for a hundred years, he was only recently salvaged from the abyss. This new era was a strange and unfamiliar world to him, and he devoured every book he could find, desperate to understand it.
With a hand tipped with sharp, manicured nails, DIO slowly caressed the scar on his neck—the crimson line that joined his head to Jonathan Joestar's body.
"Lord DIO," Enya pleaded from the floor. "I require your assistance! I need men to eliminate that upstart!"
She had already learned that Jonas was on a plane to France. She knew, with a mother's certainty, that he was going after her precious son. For the sake of ending her own torment, and for the safety of her darling boy, she had to assemble a team to crush Jonas. And while Lord DIO had granted her considerable authority, any action that deviated from the grand plan required his explicit approval.
DIO's voice, smooth and chilling, finally broke the silence. "Enya. This unknown Stand user is of no consequence. All that matters is the plan. However," he paused, a faint smile touching his lips, "you are a useful tool. Do as you wish. And if you can... bring this 'Jonas' to me. Alive."
"Thank you for your mercy, Lord DIO!" Enya cried, her face, still pressed to the floor, contorting with ecstatic gratitude.
Paris, France. The moment Jonas stepped out of the airport, he spotted a pickpocket at work, his hand deftly slipping into a woman's handbag. Jonas sighed. It seemed thieves were a universal constant.
The pickpocket, a nervous-looking man, darted his eyes around before expertly extracting a wallet and stuffing it into his own pocket. With the prize secured, he casually moved away from the woman, melting into the crowd like any other pedestrian.
He'd only made it to the street corner when he felt a sudden lightness in his pocket. He slapped his side in a panic. Not only was the wallet he'd just stolen gone, but the few bills of his own money had vanished along with it. As he frantically looked around, searching for whichever rival had been so brazen, Maw was already returning to Jonas, the stolen wallet and the thief's cash held delicately in its shadowy jaws.
Jonas took the wallet and approached the woman, tapping her gently on the shoulder. "Excuse me, miss. I believe you dropped this."
The woman turned, startled at first, then immediately captivated by Jonas's handsome face. She took the wallet, checked its contents, and her eyes widened in relief.
"Oh, Monsieur, thank you!" she gushed. "Thank you so much! I don't know what I would have done if I'd truly lost it."
Charmed by his gallantry, she suggested they go for a coffee at a nearby cafe. Jonas agreed. He could always use the help of a local to expedite his search for Enya's son.
Over coffee, he learned the woman's name was Manon, a Parisian journalist just returning from an assignment abroad. Jonas's mind immediately saw an opportunity. Journalists were notoriously well-connected. Perhaps this Manon could even help him find Diavolo.
"As it happens," he said smoothly, "I'm looking for two people. I was wondering if you might be able to keep an eye out for them."
He retrieved the sketch of Diavolo and the photograph of Enya's son from his travel bag.
Manon took them, her curiosity piqued. "And they are?"
"Let's just say they owe me something," Jonas replied evasively.
"I can certainly try to help, but..."
"Is there a problem?"
"No," she said, a coy smile playing on her lips. "I'll need your contact information, of course."
Jonas couldn't help but chuckle as he wrote down his number for her.
"What about these?" she asked, holding the papers.
"Keep them. I have copies."
Before they parted, Jonas asked for a recommendation—a place where one could go to gather information. She suggested a tavern called "La Porte Rouge."
Following Manon's directions, Jonas found the place. Even in the middle of the day, the tavern was filled with patrons already deep in their cups. He took a seat at the bar and ordered a meal; the long flight had left him famished. As he ate, he listened to the conversations around him, but it was mostly meaningless drunken chatter.
After his meal, he showed the sketch and the photo to the bartender.
"What's this, Monsieur?"
"I need you to keep an eye out for these two."
A shrewd look came over the bartender's face. "That," he said, wiping the counter, "will cost you extra."
Jonas sighed and paid the man a handsome retainer. He then booked a room upstairs, establishing the tavern as his new base of operations.
Three days later, a man with a bizarre appearance stepped out of the Paris airport. He wore triangular sunglasses, and his hair was styled into two tall braids with six bells hanging from them.
This was Alessi, an assassin dispatched by Enya to eliminate Jonas Jourdan.
He stepped into a phone booth and dialed a number.
"Hey," Alessi whined into the receiver. "I'm here. How much longer are you going to be?"
The man on the other end was his partner. Enya had given the job to him first, but the fool had decided he couldn't handle it alone and had asked for backup. And now, despite getting the mission first, he still hadn't arrived.
A slick, flippant voice came through the line. "Easy there, Alessi, my man. My new girlfriend has been keeping me... occupied. But I'll definitely be in Paris today. Let's meet at the rendezvous point. Gotta go, boarding now." Click.
A surge of irrational anger flared in Alessi's chest. The reason? He didn't have a girlfriend. He'd never even held a girl's hand. He already hated this partner he'd never met.
He slammed the phone down and pulled out a photo of his target. It was a picture of Jonas's handsome, chiseled face. Seeing it only made Alessi feel worse.
First my partner, now this guy... Why are they all so damned charming?!
He didn't even want to wait for his partner anymore. He just wanted to find this Jonas and wipe that smugly handsome face off the planet. Then he could take all the reward money for himself and leave none for his unreliable, womanizing partner. What had started as a professional contract had just become very, very personal.
Alessi stormed out of the phone booth and headed for Jonas's last known location.
Meanwhile, on a flight bound for Paris, a handsome man with long blond hair and a cowboy hat was smoothly chatting up a flight attendant.
"To meet someone as beautiful as you in the sky," the man said with a dazzling smile, "you must be an angel."
The flight attendant giggled. "You're full of pretty words. I bet you have a lot of girlfriends."
"Actually," the man said, his charming eyes locking onto hers, "the name's Hol Horse. And I happen to be single."