Geronimo Stilton: INTERPOL-Trouble In France: An Old Enemy Returns

"We're In Paris!"

Angorat International Airport - Airfield
Sunday - March 23, 2014
0614 hours

After showering and having a light breakfast, I took a drive in my Jaguar F-Type convertible to Angorat. The day started off bright with the sun still rising up from the east, and lens flare entered my eyes as I rode along. As expected, the terminals were lonely and quiet when I arrived, no traffic but a few cars at the departures and arrivals.

The road along the terminals were roofed and enclosed like a tunnel, and it was the road I needed to take to get to the airfield entrance gate. Because of me being a car guy, I love it when the roar of the engine bounces off tunnels.

I did realize that I was about to break a road safety law, but since the airport was like a ghost town and the coast was clear, I decided to speed along the length of the straight.

"Cougar, stop here," I ordered the Jaguar. He braked at the start of the tunnel, and I made my move.

I gripped on the steering wheel to disengage autopilot, with an alert message appearing on the holographic HUD. I placed a foot on the gas pedal, revving the V8 up and down. Launch control was on, so I shifted up and floored it, screeching a little and darted off like a rocket. The sprint was short though, just about 250 meters as I shifted up to the third gear. But the sound of the V8 revving at 7000 rpm echoing off the terminal walls was so sweet.

We were there at the gates. The guard on post came up to the window as I rolled it down, and asked for my identification and purpose. "I'm here for the private flight to Paris by Interpol," I announced.

"Oh, the Gulfstream that landed here yesterday. Ah was told about that, must be here to pick you up," he said. "Wait here, Ah'll open the gate."

I started to feel ecstatic when I heard the word 'Gulfstream'. A Gulfstream is a luxurious private business jet which I myself have never boarded before.

He pushed the gate open, and I drove to the guard again when he moved to the left side. "Excuse me, did you just say 'Gulfstream'?"

"Indeed ah did," he replied, holding on to his belt. "You seemed surprised. You've never been on a Gulfstream before, son?"

"As a matter of fact, no."

"Strange. Thought you being rich and all would be flyin' in one of these things to and off the island."

"Have you?"

He approached close to the window. "Ah was part of the MISS back in the 80's," he whispered. "Used to protect foreign ministers while flyin' in one of these."

"You worked for the Mouse Island Secret Service?"

"Yes ah did...Ah'm just gonna leave ya a heads up. When you board a Gulfstream, you'll never want to get back out."

"Thanks."

"Your welcome. Now, the jet's just at the third hangar next to the far side of the terminal. You'll see your friends waiting there."

"Thanks again!"

With a tip of his hat, I drove away and into the airfield. I sped along the tarmac again just like I did in the tunnel, lasting only for 5 seconds until I hit the brakes.

I saw a sight of Thea and her students by Thea's Bugatti Veyron Vitesse and an Aston Martin Rapide next to the Gulfstream G650, waiting for me, Geronimo and the others to arrive. There was a fuel truck on the other side of the jet, with an attendant handling the kerosene.

I pulled over and parked in front of the group, shutting down the engine afterwards. Their eyes followed me getting out and taking a walk to the trunk. "Good morning, girls!" I greeted as I flipped the trunk open.