Le Chateau de Fortier

  Seven’s Range Rover Sport rolled to a stop before an imposing wrought iron gate seamlessly joined to limestone columns framed by two elegant French wall lanterns. The gate stood sentinel, its intricate design both a barrier and a statement of grandeur. Seven lowered the window and leaned toward the embedded intercom on the left column.

  “Colonel Seven here,” he said crisply.

  There was a punctuated silence on the speaker before a composed voice crackled through. “Welcome, Colonel. Please proceed.”

  The two-leaf gate swung open with a mechanical hum, revealing a lush, half-mile driveway shaded by mature sycamores. The serenity of the estate was a stark contrast to the turbulence of Seven’s thoughts as he drove forward.

  The driveway led to a sprawling granite cobblestone motor court that heightened the chateau’s commanding presence. Sunlight glinted off the custom wrought iron doors at the entrance, a hint of the opulence that awaited inside.

  Seven stepped out, his movements purposeful as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. Just as he arrived at the entrance, the elegant front door opened. A dignified middle-aged man, dressed impeccably in a black suit, emerged, his manner refined.

  “Good morning, Colonel,” Cédric Renaud, the butler, greeted. “This way, please.”

  Seven followed him through the vestibule and into a cavernous reception hall. The air was cool, and the faint scent of lilies wafted throughout. Coffered ceilings loomed above, and a monumental limestone fireplace stood as the focal point, its carved mantel a testament of craftsmanship long past.

  The butler led him to the parlor, where the muted murmur of conversation halted as they entered. A polished mahogany coffee table anchored the room; around it sat two women and two men. One woman was elegant in her middle age, the other dignified and elderly. The men mirrored the spectrum of time: one middle-aged, the other bearing the marks of seniority.

  The middle-aged man rose to his feet, extending a hand with practiced courtesy. “Colonel Seven, I’m Garrett Randall.”

  Seven’s handshake was firm. “Good morning, Mr. Randall. It’s a pleasure.”

  While Seven and Randall were exchanging pleasantries, a ripple of silent astonishment passed through the trio. Alain, Amélie, and Leona exchanged looks of disbelief. Leona’s hand tightened reflexively on Amélie’s arm, seeking confirmation for what her eyes refused to accept.

  The resemblance was uncanny—haunting even. Seven stood before them, a living echo of Angus in his youth. Their stares lingered, laden with the same question they dared not voice.

  At this moment, Garrett’s words cut through the heavy silence. “Colonel Seven, may I introduce you to Mr. Alain Fortier, his wife, Madam Amélie, and their daughter-in-law, Madam Leona.”

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  “Mr. Alain Fortier?”

  As soon as Seven whispered the name, his initial confusion quickly gave way to realization as he took in the scene before him. It dawned on him that he was not in the presence of the Randall family but rather the Fortier family.

  Garrett, noticing Seven’s reaction, explained, “Apologies for the confusion, Colonel. I should have clarified in our phone call that the patient is Mr. Alain Fortier’s son. I’m Mr. Fortier’s personal assistant.”

  Alain approached them, his movements slightly unsteady as if weighted by the moment. “Welcome, Colonel Seven,” Alain said, extending his hand to Seven, his tone betraying a hint of fluster. “We’re honored to have you here.”

  “You are too kind, Mr. Fortier. Please call me Seven.” He dipped his head, neutral but observant.

  Alain’s face brightened. “Then, Seven, you must call me ‘Grandpa.’”

  Seven blinked, momentarily thrown off by the oddity of the request. But he recovered quickly. “Grandpa Alain.”

  Alain’s features softened with a rare warmth. Leona, still struggling to reconcile the present with the past, offered a dazed nod, her thoughts racing.

  With the greetings out of the way, Seven wasted no time, diving straight into the purpose of his visit. “Grandpa Alain, may I review your son’s medical files?”

  Being addressed as ‘Grandpa,’ Alain’s heart swelled with an emotion he had never felt. A tender smile played on his lips as he instructed, “Garrett, please hand Angus’s file to Seven.”

  Garrett retrieved a thick folder from the coffee table, handing it to Seven. “Colonel, please have a seat. Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Seven replied, taking the file and settling into a plush sofa. His focus sharpened as he opened the folder, his eyes scanning the pages with astonishing speed.

  The room grew quiet, save for the faint rustle of paper. The onlookers watched in awe and incredulity, unable to reconcile how he could process the dense medical text so swiftly.

  Mere minutes later, Seven closed the folder with a decisive thump. “Where are the patient’s CT and MRI scans?” he asked evenly.

  Alain stared at him, stunned. “You’ve already finished reading over 200 pages of medical notes?”

  “I have a photographic memory,” Seven replied matter-of-factly.

  “You’re extraordinary, Seven,” Alain shook his head in amazement. “Garrett, bring Seven to the study to have a look at the scans.”

  “Of course, Mr. Fortier,” Garrett said before turning to Seven. “Colonel, right this way.”

  As they exited, the Fortiers exchanged hushed whispers.

  Amélie clasped Alain’s arm. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” she murmured. “He scanned through that entire file as if he were a photographer, clicking snapshots at will.”

  Leona, her gaze still fixed on the doorway through which Seven and Garrett had disappeared, couldn’t contain her thoughts any longer. “Mom, Dad, is it just me, or is Seven the spitting image of Angus when he was around that age?”

  Alain and Amélie nodded in unison. “I thought so, too! That’s why I asked him to call me ‘Grandpa’!” Alain exclaimed, his excitement palpable. “I think he’s Landry! Should we ask him about his background when he returns?”

  “No, Dad,” Leona immediately kiboshed his suggestion. “Let’s wait. We just met him… we don’t want to spook him!”

  “Alright, let’s do that for now,” eager as he was, Alain knew Leona was right.

  ……

  In the study, Seven stood before a desk strewn with older CT and MRI scans. Garrett accessed the computer, pulling up the more recent images.

  “Take your time,” Garrett informed, stepping back.

  Seven leaned over the desk, examining each image with clinical precision. Yet beneath his calm exterior, his mind churned, mapping possibilities.

  After several minutes, Seven straightened, his expression thoughtful but resolute. “I’ve seen enough.”

  Garrett raised an eyebrow. “That quickly?”

  Seven smiled faintly. “Let’s return to the others.”

  Garrett couldn’t help but marvel. Seven’s mind seemed a force of nature, one that demanded not just respect but reverence.