CHAPTER 1
The Gala

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, October 15, 2012, 7:35PM

     The autumn in New York City was always something to be appreciated. Many citizens took to the streets enjoying the events that celebrated the season and the upcoming holidays. For some, they either cling to the warm summer days or embrace the brisk cool winter days approaching. Whatever the activity or holiday, this day in mid-October was a special event for many New Yorkers and for many of those who have lived in the city for numerous years.

     The reopening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art was seen as an essential part of New York City coming back to life. Since 2008 the museum had suffered similarly the same fate as many financial institutions across the country: financial mismanagement. Who in the city could have imagined the financial backers of this institution would have allowed this landmark museum to close?  For years, a committee of patrons, private contributors and city officials met to reopen this museum and to determine a new management structure. Unfortunately, the committee failed to reach an agreement and the ones who lost out were the avid museum goers, school children and tourists from around the world. Tonight however, the New York icon would come back and is all thanks to someone whose citizenship is from another country.

     Life in and around the museum seemed to spring up overnight. Workmen appeared and began assessing the grounds around the museum. First, it was an effort to restore the museum building, pavement, fountains and walkways. At the behest of the new benefactor, a new carport was added to allow celebrities, school children and even press to disembark and enter the museum with ease. This was also created to ease the traffic on Fifth Avenue, which went over very nicely with the city council. Next to arrive were dozens of art restorers to evaluate the condition of the artwork, sculptures and dozens of pieces of work either still in their displays or locked in storage. New Yorkers gathered for days and weeks just watching the people work on their museum, waiting for the Opening Day. Word got out that a sole private concern bought the museum, the surrounding property and was in charge of the artwork the museum contained. Concern spread over the possibility the Metropolitan would now be a private museum and everyone will have to pay enormous entrance fees to enter. Luckily, the new owner heard the "cries of the people" and released a statement claiming the museum will operate close to how it was in the past. "Going to the museum should be an enriching experience. Not a financial, crippling, incident," a posted on the revamped website and submitted to the news outlets.

    The people were relieved and a renewed sense of excitement settled around the museum. As the time of the opening drew, the mysterious benefactor/owner allowed more information to be released about the upcoming events the museum was to sponsor: floating art galleries for various artists from various walks of life, school tours during week, more exhibitions for public and private concerns, music ensembles and mini concerts, and more international artwork displays.

    The name of this new owner was Madame Cynthia Petrakis of Greece. Arguably one of the richest women in the world, she was the reclusive philanthropist who stepped in to save this icon from oblivion. Until this evening, Madame Petrakis was rarely seen in the public and spent most of her time championing for the archeological sciences for study, not for profit. Her vast wealth influenced many to preserve the artistic efforts of the human condition and to understand the history of mankind. She owned numerous museums and perseveration centers around the world, even donated items from her personal collection for display. But rarely this persona of wealth and beauty has made a public appearance. For nearly twenty years, Madame Petrakis sponsored many charity events, educational programs, scholarships, artistic sponsorships, archeological explorations, humanitarian efforts and an investor for the development and exploration of newer and better technologies.

    Many have incorrectly labeled her as an industrialist, in which she has replied, "Industrialists means to change the world by harsh and/or extreme means. I consider myself to be more of a servant to the people, anywhere for those who wish strive for a better life."

    Upon hearing this, people around the world and in New York City assume this was a political statement and she was seeking office. Political analysts even determined this was the case since the nation of Greece was in turmoil and she would use her vast wealth to fund a new foundation of a government. Even this analysis was untrue.

    With all of the new renovations Madame Petrakis added to the museum, most notably additional parking and car port space, more individuals showed up for the Opening Gala than originally anticipated. Mostly were bystanders who, with their cell phone cameras, wanted to catch a glimpse of the celebrities, officials, artists and other influential people gathering for this sneak preview of the reopening of the museum. Police and museum security worked feverishly to control the crowds, maintain the flow of traffic and manage the dozens of news crews showing up and disembarking their cameras in the area creating an additional traffic bottle neck. Rumors circulating around the news reporters that only one news team will be allowed into the museum to cover exclusively the opening and any announcements from the chief benefactor of the new Metropolitan Museum of Art. Some of the news crews were so desperate for a chance to be chosen that a few producers and news anchors attempted to bribe the museum security in the hope of getting better noticed by this reclusive philanthropist. Unfortunately for some of the overzealous news crews, they were flatly turned down and told to retreat to the designated areas for the press.

    Indeed, it would be a night to remember! Persons of interest slowly made their way to the museum; some greeted fans and spoke with the news casters on the stairs leading into the museum. Others simply waved and made their way into the gathering area, searching for the wine and hors d'oeuvres. The weather was perfect for the evening, the people were happy and excited, even the stars in the sky appear to shine brighter despite the light pollution of New York City. All that was left was the arrival of the mistress of the evening's ceremony.

* * *

    In a white stretch limousine several blocks away, slowly cruising down Fifth Avenue approaching Central Park, Madame Cynthia Petrakis sat in a regal position as still as a statue! She was nervous and she could not account as to why she felt so. Madame Petrakis had spoken in front of crowds before, the few times she's made public appearances, even to her staff members on various projects which inevitably lead her to the status she currently enjoyed. However, Madame Petrakis felt that the night's festivities had the impression of impending doom, or more embarrassing, that she may fail entirely and fall flat on her face. Her precognition foretold the evening will be marred by some incident, yet the vision/feeling failed to reveal the nature of the circumstance. She had the notion to withdraw and cancel the event but so many people looked forward to not only the museum opening but to see the infamous Madame Petrakis as well.

    She wrenched her hands together as she gazed out the window toward Central Park. A few weeks prior during the final stages of museum reconstruction, she decided to take a walk through the park and find her own way back to the building she owned on the Upper West Side. It was a lovely day but would soon give way to rain. She surmised that a quick walk through the park and she would beat the rain home. How wrong she was. Three teens decided to mug her with the intention of sexually assaulting her. Even after she pleaded with them, offered them money to leave her be, they decided to rough her up, pushing her to ground. For a moment during the assault she played the victim, allowing them to assume they were in control. When skies grew dark and heavy with rain, she showed them who was in control. The three teens went missing that day and only Cynthia Petrakis knew for sure what happened.

    This unnerved her. "They deserved their fate! If they merely let me be…"

    Slowly she inhaled and tried to relax. Too many circumstances depended on the night going forward and it would be a bad mark on her reputation to cancel without explanation. So many people depended on the museum reopening; New York City was depending on it! Failure was something she will not easily submit to.

    Sitting straighter in her plush limousine seat, she looked at dozens of newspapers sprawled about the passenger cab. Some were international newspapers written in different languages and some local papers. The last paper she was reading was a Greek newspaper called the Greek Tribune, International. On its front pages showed the images of continued unrest and decay of the Hellenic Parliament's influence in all of its cities. Images of fire, blood and people suffering conveyed more of the message than words ever could. She was beginning to tear up when the voice spoke in her mind.

    "Maybe you should cancel tonight's opening if you are so moved by what is occurring your native homeland." A voice deep in her mind pointed out.

    Cynthia inhaled and then smiled to herself. "No," she thought firmly. "This night is very important to those here and abroad. I will not abandon these people to save others. Our purpose is to help those in need, not to harm them."

    "Were we thinking that when those teens came at us in the park?" The voice fired back. Cynthia's demeanor changed, anger started to boil inside of her.

    "I have very little regret for those who chose a path of evil and destruction. I was taken against my will once, never again!" Cynthia's hands started to tremble and as she looked at them, they seem to be drained of their natural skin tone. Her finger nails started to grow outwardly. She quickly grasped a mirror in the passenger visor and looked into it. Her face began to gray slightly. Cynthia started to panic but quickly regained her composure. She began to breathe deeply and meditate on the words that will bring her "condition" back under control. After a few moments, her hands returned back to normal and a glance in the mirror showed her beautiful face. Without looking away, she reached for her small makeup bag and reapplied her red shade lipstick to her full lips.

    "Is it your intention to antagonize me before the Reopening Gala event? I thought you were the helpful one in my life?" Cynthia asked internally as she finished her makeup application.

    The voice sounded a bit annoyed and hurt when it replied, "Certainly not! But this is your first, huge public gathering in years. Since I have watched hours of television and the Internet, I know there will be individuals that will say and do things to make you lose your composure." It paused while Cynthia sat back on her seat and straightened the newspapers. "In our case, losing your composure will be disadvantageous for our ultimate goals. I am aware you are nervous, but rest in the knowledge that you are accomplishing a great deed for the people of this age."

    As the limousine slowly made its way down Fifth Avenue, Cynthia looked again at the park where she was attacked. "You are right! We are doing great thing!" She accidentally said aloud. From the driver seat, the Salvatore responded to his employer's comments over the limo's intercom.

    "Yes ma'am! We are on time for the event despite the traffic. I called ahead to the museum and everything is going well." Salvatore reported.

    Cynthia responded. "Thank you Salvatore." She felt embarrassed that she was not aware she was speaking aloud. "Take it easy on the streets."

    "Yes Madame Petrakis. We are now less than ten minutes away and just about all of the guests are there."

    Cynthia nodded and muted the intercom. "I'm hoping there will be no problems tonight. But if there are, we will have to let others handle it."

    "That is what we pay them for," the voice shot back. "In the meantime, let's see who is giving us the best coverage of the reopening. We still need to pick one news team remember?"

    Reaching for a touch screen specially installed in the limousine, Cynthia tapped the menu to select the broadcast TV function and twelve tiled windows appeared on the twenty-four inch monitor. Simultaneously she viewed and listened to all of the news casts. She admired the professional performance of the anchors who patiently waited for the arrival of Madame Cynthia Petrakis. However, all of them lacked emotion, a sense of anticipation and eagerness reflecting the significance of the museum opening. She was about to decide not to let any of them in when she focused on one news broadcast. Touching the window for that particular anchor, she not only felt this female news anchor had the right qualities she was looking for but it was the person she was standing with.

    "This is Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News and I am standing with archaeologist Jerimiah Clarke who may be able to shed some light on what we can expect from the reopening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

    Speaking into the microphone offered to him, Jerimiah Clarke spoke. "Well Miss Reid, you can expect to see the museum restored to its original splendor as well as new exhibits from around the world. Madame Cynthia Petrakis cares about the arts and the people…or the peoples who create them."

    As Cynthia's limousine drew closer to the site, she made a decision whom to invite for the gathering in the museum. "I think that is a good choice seeing how he was a big help to us in the past," the voice said.

    "Did we send him an invitation?" she asked quietly.

    After a minute of thinking, both Cynthia and the voice sighed in a negative tone. "I am glad he showed up in any case." Cynthia remarked. "Looks like he will be joining us."

    Cynthia agreed with the voice in her head and decided to invite Jerimiah Clarke and the Channel 6 News Team into the Reopening Gala!

* * *

    Minutes earlier, standing across the street from museum stood a tall African American man with a dark brown trench coat, black Kangol cap, white button down shirt, black pants and shoes. Over his left shoulder he wore a well-worn brown leather saddle bag. He leaned on the lamp post, surveying the crowds around the museum. It seemed to him that the people gathered around the museum were looking to get in would fail in their attempt; security was tight enough to allow not even a squirrel. Still he surveyed the area. Jerimiah Clarke was a well-known archaeologist and an adjunct university professor of history/archaeology. It pained him at first that he was not invited to this gala event. Deep down he was happy the museum will be opening after many years being closed; he relished the idea of going inside and seeing the old exhibits as well as new ones Madame Petrakis added. Difficult to do without an invite. At times he worked for Madame Cynthia Petrakis or rather through intermediary concerns; in so doing he felt that an invitation would not be a big concern. Still, his chances of getting into the private museum ceremonies slim to none, not to mention meeting Madame Petrakis herself.

    He frowned and rubbed his face. His hands told him that he should have shaved at 6:15 when his five o'clock shadow appeared. No matter, he wanted to meet Madame Petrakis face to face and share with her some concerns about a possible theft in her museum. For the past several weeks, Jerimiah had been tracking a rash of museum robberies across the country. Many of them related to Madame Petrakis in the way of her owning the museums or had exhibits on display at other institutions. The items stolen were more of the academic type than of monetary value. Ancient texts written on tablets, parchment or other media were taken in favor of objects made of silver, gold, diamonds and other precious metals. This is what baffled investigators, however, Jerimiah understood the robberies to be a part of a more elaborate and sinister plot unfolding. Strange, he thought to himself as Madame Petrakis had to be aware of the robberies and yet still open the Metropolitan Museum with little or no concern. He deduced a robbery may spoil the gala if the criminals were bold enough to try a theft. Knowing Cynthia Petrakis' reputation, the robberies will not deter her from opening the museum.

    "With all of these people, guards, and police, it seems a perfect time to do so," Jerimiah whispered to himself. Most of the robberies took place during the day while people and security were present. It appears that these criminals like to use the crowds as a cover for their burglary. It was the perfect night to attempt such a crime. Still looking for a way in, he knew he had to try to meet Madame Petrakis and explain his findings. If not, there would be very little Jerimiah could do to prevent any larceny.

    His hopes were renewed when he saw the news van of the Channel 6 News. "I think she said she will be covering this museum event tonight. I hope she is." Jerimiah referred to his girlfriend Samantha Reid, news and field anchor for the local news. If she was there, maybe he could persuade Samantha to get close enough to Madame Petrakis when she arrives. It was worth a shot. Looking both ways on Fifth Avenue, Jerimiah stealthily made his way to the news van.

* * *

    "So we are expecting a great night from seeing this icon reopen and I know everyone in New York City has been anxiously waiting for a while!" A celebrity movie star, a man in his forties sporting a short blonde hairstyle with a slightly graying beard, talked excitedly into the microphone of Channel 6 reporter, Samantha Reid. The lovely African American woman who herself was beaming at Hollywood's newest power couple also felt the excitement. His wife, a tall, athletically built woman, star of many action films smiled into the camera widely while holding onto her husband's arm.

    "Well we thank you for stopping by and talking with us. Enjoy the Reopening Gala!" Samantha Reid wished the celebrity couple well as they both smiled and walked up the stairs into the museum. People cheered, clapped and snapped countless photos of the two as they made their way into the museum to join the other gathered invitees.

    "We had the pleasure of talking to the celebrity invitees who are calling this the event of the year!" Samantha Reid reported as she turned in the direction of the museum stairs still teaming with spectators, camera crews from other stations and the private security firm owned and operated by Petrakis Security. "As the hour draws closer to the 8:00PM, we still see no sign of the host of this Gala, Cynthia Petrakis. As many of you know she has single handedly saved this New York museum from being the latest casualty of financial ruin and foreclosure. But as you can see from all who have gathered here and the guests to have arrived, I imagine the future of this museum will be long lasting this time around."

    She paused, smiled and gestured to the museum. "I am Samantha Reid with Channel 6 News at the Gala Reopening at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, still waiting for the host of the evening. Back to the studio."

    Cameraman Raphael Castel and onsite producer Estelle Briggins both sighed as Samantha put down her microphone and walked over to the camera. "Well guys, do you think there is a chance?" she asked as Estelle handed her and Raphael cups of hot coffee.

    "Nope," Raphael said taking a long gulp. Samantha frowned in agreement.

    "There is a chance," Estelle started as she adjusted her thick rimmed glasses and brushed her long black hair out of her face. The crew shared a moment of silence. "At least we got a good spot and some good interviews but who knows if we will be the ones going in. But I imagine it will be the larger network crews who may get a chance. Local news will be left out."

    "I love your enthusiasm Estelle," Raphael expressed with annoyance.

    "I am only being realistic Raphael. It would be great to go in. However, I think she has made up her mind long ago as to who will be shooting from inside." She turned toward Samantha. "She is rich! The larger network crews have rich owners. Rich people tend to stick with their own."

    Raphael was about to protest but knew deep down he knew she was right. It was an honor to cover as much as they could since they camped out on the Metropolitan's front door step. Samantha finished her cup of coffee and looked at the museum doors. She had seen many other news crews attempting to make their way into the museum only to be turned away by the security guards. Rumors circulated more and more that only one news team would enter and anxiety was building. For the Channel 6 crew, hopes were dwindling.

    "If we don't get in, it is not the end of the world," Samantha surmised. "We have lots of footage to share and I for one will be back here tomorrow morning talking to the patrons as they have their opening day."

    Both Raphael and Estelle traded looks. "No problem. I will give you the number of the camera crew that will be available and you can go in the morning with them," Estelle announced. Raphael nodded his head in agreement and finished his coffee.

    "Come on guys. Where is your sense of adventure?"

    "At home, in bed, waiting for me," Raphael laughed. "But I won't be mad if I find it asleep."

    Samantha's shoulders heaved a bit as she looked at the older camera man. She wished he and Estelle would be eager enough to wait until the possible end, but being stationed at the museum since 5:00PM was tiring. This crew had covered many stories and received numerous awards in their five years together. Prospects of their being picked were shrinking and Samantha relented.

    "Maybe you guys are right. Let's call the station and head in."

    "You don't want to wait for the main attraction? She should be here soon." The comment came from a tall man wearing a saddle bag and a snap cap. Raphael shook his hand as he approached while Estelle simply smiled at him. Only Samantha had an unwelcoming look on her face as Jerimiah Clarke approached. He stopped just outside of arms distance, sensing the lukewarm reception.

    "Greetings, my lady. Such a beautiful night is it not?" Jerimiah said with an accent of romance. Both Raphael and Estelle made themselves scarce and waited in the news van.

    "I thought you told me you would be out of town. I thought you would call me. I thought of you more than you of me!" Samantha said firmly.

    "Well," Jerimiah started carefully and looking directly into her light brown eyes. "I was starting to leave for Chicago to follow up on those museum robberies when I remembered the Metropolitan Museum was opening today. I went to my office, gathered my notes and figured I could get in or get a few minutes with Cynthia Petrakis. I unfortunately did not get an invite."

    "And in all that time you never thought to call or text me?" Samantha's arms were crossed and she was tapping her shoe on the pavement. That look, the one that said, You are in trouble! was written all over the reporters face for Jerimiah to read.

    Clearing his throat, the archaeologist answered, "I knew without a doubt you would be here!" A big grin played across his face.

    Samantha burst out in a small laugh and hugged Jerimiah. "I miss you. I wish you would stay home more often."

    "I will give up my night job and you your day job and we can stay home together all the time," Jerimiah commented sarcastically.

    The two looked at the crowds when Samantha looked up at Jerimiah and then her eyes widened. She banged on the van door, signaling for Raphael and Estelle to come outside. The two jumped out and looked at Samantha. "What's up?" Raphael asked.

    "One more interview, with Professor Clarke here!" Samantha was reaching for the microphone and getting herself ready and moving Jerimiah into a good position.

    "Are you serious Samantha? I thought we are calling it a night," Estelle protested.

    "Yup! Very serious!" Samantha grabbed her microphone and stood next to Jerimiah.

    "I don't think the station will preempt any more time for this museum coverage," Estelle attempted to explain. "We are flying almost solo here."

    Samantha continued to ready herself and gave Estelle the look that said, Make sure the studio is ready for another live feed. As she put her earpiece in place, she was once again plugged into the studio via wireless feed. She could hear the chatter in the background as Channel 6 News manager relented to accept the additional live coverage. Estelle talked into her headset to help clear up the confusion about the final interview for the evening.

    "Chief says this is the last one. The network is on the hook for its programming for the prime time hour. If we don't get in the museum, it is a wrap for the tonight!"

    Samantha nodded moved the new interviewee into the view of the camera.

    "What a cute couple!" Raphael remarked as he set up his camera. Estelle waited for the cameraman to get ready and then held up her hand to silently countdown Samantha to start her interview.

    "This is Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News and I am standing with archaeologist Jerimiah Clarke who may be able to shed some light on what can we expect from the reopening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

    Speaking into the microphone offered to him, Jerimiah Clarke shared his opinion. "Well Miss Reid, you can expect to see the museum restored to its original splendor as well as new exhibits from around the world. Madame Cynthia Petrakis cares about the arts and people…or peoples who created them."

    "So you say there will be much of the same art work as before?"

    "Yes and no. From what I know of Madame Cynthia Petrakis, she is an advocate of the preservation of the arts and showcasing the human expression. I am sure she will encourage people from all walks of life to come and share in her passion as well as influence others for sharing their artwork. I know from personal experience that she is also a staunch supporter of archaeology, which is my field of experience." Jerimiah smiled at the camera and continued. "From all over the world she has sponsored excavations and other programs to unearth, so to speak, the past of human history."

    "History and the preservation of it seem to be one of her great passions, wouldn't you say?" Samantha asked.

    "One of her passions, yes! But our host is into education, humanitarian efforts, you name it, she will have some association with it."

    With a sly expression, Samantha asked the obvious question. "Professor Clarke, you don't happen to have an invitation to this Reopening event do you?"

    "Sadly, no. But I came down to show my support and to also get a glimpse of the lady of the evening."

    Just as Jerimiah finished his comment, a hush and then a sound of elation swept through the crowd. Everyone turned to see the white limousine driving into the carport. Police and security made sure all of the area was clear for the arrival of the lady herself, Madame Petrakis.

* * *

    Cameras were rolling, snapping and recording the limousine as it cruised to a halt. The driver exited on his side and moved swiftly to the passenger side. He waited for a minute until Cynthia Petrakis signaled that she was ready to exit. He opened the door and offered his hand to assist the lady of the evening. Cynthia Petrakis stepped out and absorbed the moment. People gasped at her beauty and elegance.

    Taking another deep breath, Cynthia looked out at the crowd and news vans searching for Channel 6 news crew. She spotted them and told herself, "Showtime."

    The voice in her head replied, "Don't turn this into a wild party! You know these New Yorkers will party all the way to New Year's Day!"

    Cynthia Petrakis stood five feet, nine inches tall. She wore a long white shimmering dress with no sleeves and collared at the neck. A silver shoal was draped about her shoulders and she carried a small white purse. Her hair was dark, long and worn pinned back, highlighting her eyes. It gave her a romantic look. Her brown eyes were dark and inviting, flawless skin peaked through the dress. Her nails were painted a dark silver color which matched her toe nails in her flat, open toe shoes. Everyone was taken with her! So much so, flashbulbs lit up the carport outside of the museum. The first major public appearance of the reclusive billionaire Madame Cynthia Petrakis in New York City was the highlight of the fall night.

    Her beauty was such that people murmured to themselves about her age. Some said twenty, others said between thirty or forty years of age. In actuality no one knew how old Cynthia Petrakis was and she was not going to reveal her age to anyone since no one would ever believe her.

    As the cameras continued to flash, applause started and grew into cheers! For a moment, Cynthia took the moment and in return, smiled and waved at the crowd politely. Salvatore closed the door to the limousine and drove away slowly into the garage, taking care not produce a rush of air and dirt to blow onto his employer.

    Looking about, she located the Channel 6 news van and saw the individuals that caught her attention. With grace, she slowly walked over to them.

    "Raphael, tell me you are still shooting," inquired Estelle as she stared open mouthed at the approaching museum curator and owner. Cynthia Petrakis was as lovely as Estelle thought along with the fact that her career may take a turn for the best.

    Raphael on the other hand was calm, collected and felt as if he was at a peep show displaying a classy, intelligent woman. He found himself drooling a bit as he hid his face behind the camera. "Of course you silly girl, now look professional!"

    Cynthia approached Jerimiah Clarke with a hand extended. "Mr. Clarke, so pleased to make your acquaintance in person."

    Jerimiah grasped gently but noticed at once her hand was cold but immediately warmed. Odd, he thought to himself. For a briefest of moments, he felt an electric shock from the handshake. Jerimiah was sure Cynthia felt it as well when her dark eyebrow raised slightly. "I am honored to meet you." He wanted to say more but thought better of it.

    Cynthia turned her attention toward Samantha. "You must be Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News. I admire your journalism and news reporting."

    "Thank you so very much," Samantha beamed. "Would you care to say something to our viewers at home and online?"

    "Now don't ham it up or take too long, we have a party to go to," the voice shrieked internally. In Cynthia's mind, she sent an emotional bolt of thought that basically told the voice to be quiet. She, however, heeded the advice.

    "Briefly. And if you please, you all must come in with me to attend the ceremonies," Cynthia gestured to Jerimiah and the news crew. "I want to thank the people of New York for supporting my efforts to the reopening this institution. I want it understood that that this not my museum; I am merely the caretaker and will provide the best I can offer to the public. Tomorrow the city will be able to see their museum reopen more magnificent than before."

    She took Jerimiah by the arm and said casually, "Care to escort me into the new Metropolitan Museum of Art, Mr. Clarke?"

    The archaeologist smiled, looking back briefly at Samantha and winking as he escorted Madame Petrakis up the stairs to the museum. Samantha Reid stepped in front of the camera to share the good news. "This is Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News. By special invitation of Madame Cynthia Petrakis, this crew has been invited inside to the Opening Gala festivities. Please stay tuned for additional coverage!"

    Raphael, Estelle and Samantha gathered up their gear, locked up the van and headed up the stairs behind Madame Petrakis.

    Raphael spoke to himself but out loud. "I hope there is more than just wine and cheese being served."

    Madame Petrakis overheard him and replied, "Yes, I believe olives and crackers as well!"

    Raphael didn't think that she would hear him but he knew women generally have unearthly hearing. She smiled back at him to let the cameraman know there were no hard feelings. Estelle did not share the sentiment and shot him a look and mouthed "Mind your tongue!"

    As they walked up the stairs, Estelle turned around to see other news crews frown at her. One or two held up a profane gesture to her while others simply packed their gear and drove away. Channel 6 was chosen out of everyone else to come in and view the event, due to no small measure of Jerimiah Clarke.

    The newly invited guests were ushered by the guards to the reception area where the other arrived invitees shared conversation, wine and hors d'oeuvres. Estelle and Raphael took in the large hall and decided on a spot where they could shoot to get a good view of Madame Petrakis. Cynthia walked among her guests where she heard numerous accolades. She looked at the faces of the people gathered and smiled warmly.

    "They all love you! If they only knew your secrets, maybe they would change their minds." The voice bellowed from deep within her mind. Cynthia was about the curse and chastise the voice, but understood its purpose for speaking out. The deadly sin of vanity played about her. She was like a queen coming into her new palace. Every brick, stone, tile, and curtain was overseen by the Madame herself. Why should she not feel like a queen? Humility was the best play for her but still, it was an honor to be so welcomed and appreciated. Cynthia left Jerimiah Clarke for the moment and turned to the crowd, held her hands up and blew out a kiss.

    "Thank you all for coming! Thank you for your support of this fine museum. I promise you will all see the hard work it took to bring back this institution of art and preservation." The crowd cheered loudly as Raphael caught the reaction of the gathered guests and every motion of this beautiful woman.

    Inside the grand structure, many people who visited this museum before always found it to be a colossal place. However, several years without care and restoration would dull its magnificence. Madame Petrakis made sure this place was inviting and welcoming to all who would visit. Normally, the entrance hall would be setup to receive public visitors. Tonight it was transformed into a reception and gathering area. To the right, a stage, chairs and large display wall was setup for the speech and announcements made by Madame Petrakis later in the evening. In the center area, food from the finest caterers in the city was serving the numerous celebrities and other influential people. Wine and other "light" spirits were also served. Many of the guests took to the wine more so than the food, but the general feeling was that no one should over indulge and get drunk. The museum security officers kept a watchful eye over the guests and saw to it that no one got out of hand to spoil the event.

    Jerimiah looked at the hall admiring the restored architecture. "You really don't appreciate something so beautiful or magnificent until it is taken from you. I wished I'd visited this place more often," Jerimiah thought out loud as he walked with the woman who brought life back to institution.

    "That is why I bought this place and made it available to all who truly cherished it. It is sad we have to say goodbye to those things we love but do not take the time to appreciate it," Cynthia replied. She turned back to Samantha and her news crew. "Please take a moment to get set up over in the Announcement Hall and enjoy some food. I will mingle with our guests for a few minutes and then its onto to the show."

    "If you have a moment Madame I wish to show you something rather important," Jerimiah asked with urgency. He pleaded with his eyes. Biting her lower lip she nodded. Jerimiah then went into his saddlebag, withdrew his tablet and in a few seconds had the information of the museum robberies on the screen. Cynthia, with a serious expression on her face, looked at the images and notes Jerimiah collected.

    "Are you seeing these?" she asked the voice in her head.

    "Yes, I am able to see and remember all of the images, you can speed through them and we can process this later," the voice answered. Moving through the slides of information, Jerimiah noticed that her eyes were wide open and unmoving as Cynthia slid her finger very quickly across the screen.

    Can she possibly be reading everything that I am showing her, Jerimiah wondered to himself. Once she reached the end of the presentation, she quickly opened up Jerimiah's email and then another window for programming. After a minute of working, she handed the tablet back to Jerimiah.

    "I skimmed through your information," she said in an even, almost emotionless tone. "And rest assured I will be reviewing it in the back of my mind. I created a special protocol on your tablet to instantly forward any information directly to my digital access points. Email, phone, my private server network, et cetera. Any data you find useful to me or my endeavors, I would like for you to have unrestricted access to my information network." She paused and then flashed a sinister yet playful smile. "But don't dare spam me!"

    How happy he could be having almost direct access to Cynthia Petrakis, anytime anywhere. He was speechless for a minute until he found himself back in the real world. "I take it then I am working for the Petrakis concern?"

    "Yes, you are," she answered warmly. "Now if you will excuse me for a few minutes, time to play the hostess."

    Cynthia walked slowly and began the long ritual of smiling, hand shaking and greeting all of her guests. Everyone invited scarcely knew Madame Cynthia Petrakis but did not refuse the prestigious invitation; conversely she knew everyone in the museum hall.

    Jerimiah reviewed the program Cynthia created on his tablet. All of the information about the museum robberies was copied and transferred into her network as she said. The more Jerimiah slowly explored the mystery of Cynthia Petrakis, the more he felt drawn to her in a supernatural way. Fortunately, it was not only a physical attraction; Samantha would kill him or at the very least stop speaking to him if it was anything like that.

    "At least I will get a show and some food out of this night," he said to himself as he checked his coat, kept his saddlebag and headed toward the food tables. He spotted Samantha and headed in her direction.

* * *

    Assessing the lecture/announcement area was easy. Finding the best location to shoot the upcoming announcement from Madame Cynthia Petrakis was no effort at all. Deciding what to eat at the elaborate spread of food was the tough part. Samantha and Jerimiah spent their time wandering the hall among people who could be considered some of the most powerful and influential people in the country and perhaps the world. They stopped to speak to a few of the persons and had a pleasant time. For Estelle and Raphael, they had never seen an elaborate spread. With empty plates in hand they toured the tables of food. After a second time around the six long tables of food, a blonde haired female chef intervened in their food tour.

    "I don't want to rush you guys, but I have good information that the lady of the evening will soon be calling the guests into the next room for the announcement in ten minutes, at 8:45PM," she whispered. "Don't feel bad, some of the people were here even longer and only ate salad!"

    Estelle laughed and then said, "Thanks, sweetie. We will take a little bit of what you got there." She gestured with her hand and held out her plate for servings. Raphael simply nodded his head and held his plate forward as well.

    "This is why she is the boss and I am the cameraman," Raphael smiled as the girl piled up his and Estelle's plate high. The caterer laughed and complied with the request.

    The guests in hall were still talking and holding numerous conversations, many about Cynthia Petrakis herself. She continued to greet and meet her guests, all the while being admired by many from up close and from afar. As she walked through the people, Cynthia sensed the gathered guests were eager to hear what the evening had in store for them. No need to delay any further, besides, it was time. She signaled to the new museum director, Francesca Terceira, to come to her side.

    "Francesca, please call the guests into the conference hall and have security escort Mr. Jerimiah Clarke to the reserved chairs in the front row. Also, have the Channel 6 News team take their position for the recording."

    Francesca Terceira, a middle aged Spanish woman and well known international curator, nodded her head and withdrew a wireless microphone device from her navy blue suit jacket. After making some adjustments, she attached an earpiece with a microphone and walked into the crowd. Cynthia Petrakis made her way to the hall and sat in a large chair on stage facing the rows of empty chairs.

    "Everyone, may I have your attention please," Francesca announced as the noise of the excited guests died down. "Thank you. I am sure we are all enjoying the food, wine and company provided by Madame Cynthia Petrakis on the eve of a monumental undertaking. She thanks you all for attending and hopes she can count on you for continued support. So without further delay, let us gather in the conference hall. Please, feel free to take you food and drinks with you."

    Security guards began to usher everyone into the conference hall where rows of plush red leather chairs were waiting for its guests. A few guards escorted Samantha, Raphael and Estelle into the hall to allow them to setup their camera and microphone. Another guard escorted Jerimiah to the front row center aisle chair, where he had an excellent view of the stage and speaker. Behind the stage was a large display wall and slowly the images were becoming visible on it. The lights began to dim a bit as the projection wall brightened. The overhead projector displayed a series of images of the old Metropolitan Museum of Art in the days before its closure. To the left of the stage, he saw Madame Petrakis sitting quietly as Francesca walked up on the stage and took her place at the podium.

    "Good evening again. And welcome to the Reopening Gala of the Metropolitan Museum of Art." Everyone applauded and Francesca waited until they quieted. "I want to introduce our guest speaker for the evening but she has asked me to say a few words first. As many of you know, one of the worst tragedies to happen to this city is the closure of this fine museum. We allowed history and culture to fall prey to politics and corruption. If these occurrences were to continue, more museums here and around the country will follow the same fate."

    Images on the display wall showed the final days of the museum closing and the police taping the front doors. Days after, work crews hired by the city boarded up all of the windows as if the museum was an abandoned apartment building. Some of the guests whispered to each other in awe and shock.

    "Tonight, Madame Cynthia Petrakis will speak to you about the future of this museum and how we all fit into this plan." She turned and held her hand out to Madame Petrakis as she rose from her chair and approached the podium, "Ladies and gentlemen, Madame Cynthia Petrakis of Greece."

    Applause filled the hall as everyone stood on their feet and gave Madame Petrakis a great ovation. With a smile she took her position and waved for everyone to be seated.

    "Now be honest, you are applauding the wonderful catering and the great work of those in security detail and restoration teams. Correct?" The people clapped in acknowledgement, "There are many people involved with this night and the days ahead for the future of this museum. Their work should be acknowledged and recognized."

    The audience murmured and some clapped. Madame Petrakis stood straighter and allowed the images on the screen behind her to sync as she began her speech.

    "Throughout human existence, even from the most ancient cave paintings, we have documented and recorded our history. When I say our history, I simply mean human history; not just his story or her story. Unfortunately time and disasters have wiped away many different documentations or adaptations of thoughts and feelings of the human condition. But modern-day archaeologists, such as Jerimiah Clarke and many others from the Archaeological Association," she gestured to him with the raised hand. "They have worked tirelessly to preserve these works of art. Not just for the private consumption but the education of all mankind or I should say humankind. It is not always a man with a pen and paper to create an idea. Women have been part of his history as well. In many cases women have inspired men to paint and express themselves." She paused for a moment as images behind her transitioned from the simple cave paintings, to classics like the Mona Lisa and the Sistine Chapel and to other well-known to works of art.

    "The purpose for tonight's ceremony is to announce the new foundation that will ensure the protection and inspiration of art in all its forms. The Noble Petrakis Foundation is launching a global effort to preserve, life, history and human expression." The screen behind the speaker dissolved into a logo of the foundation, a simple line art tree with twelve branches, inside of a twelve sided polygon with the words, "The Noble Petrakis Foundation: Nobly preserving the human condition."

    As the logo appeared on the display, members from the museum staff walked along the inner and outer aisles handing out eight by ten, full color publications detailing the mission of the foundation. Many people took them and quickly flipped through the pages with interest. An usher handed several publications to the Channel 6 crew. "These really look like coffee table pieces," Raphael remarked.

    "Say what you will, Cynthia Petrakis is serious about her foundation. And we are covering it!" Samantha whispered in excitement. Estelle placed her hand on her anchor's shoulder and calmed her.

    "Please don't get us kicked out here. I still want to go back to the buffet table and sample more food." Estelle adjusted her glasses and then asked, "Do you think they will let us doggy bag any of the food?"

    Samantha shook her head in amusement. She looked at the front row at Jerimiah who was busy looking through the information Cynthia Petrakis distributed. His fingers flew across the tablet screen in avid joy.

    "I only wish he would use those fingers on me tonight with the same passion," thought Samantha.

    After several minutes of allowing her audience to flip through the publication, Cynthia Petrakis continued her speech. Behind her, the screens reflected the same vibrant images as those printed.

    "My foundation is called noble because its sole mission is to support endeavors that will protect true human expression; whether it is art, music, education, research to name a few. My family has privately supported such causes for decades, but I feel it is time to come into the light and make known our calls for support." She paused and allowed her eyes to sweep over the gathered supporters. "Tonight is not a simple call to open your wallets. It is a call to open your eyes, minds, hearts and think: What is important to me? How can I serve humanity, locally or abroad? In these times of declining values and collapsing governments, can we afford our history to fade away forever? What are we leaving for our future generations; is it not the proper to prevent the mistakes we have made?"

    The final image showed a collection of young children of various cultures and races walk through a museum showing artwork from around the world. The audience responded to the final images with slight applause and speaking softly amongst themselves.

    "I thank you for your attention and I will now open the floor for questions." Cynthia shoulders seemed to relax a bit as the tension of the speech was over and the people began to clap for the efforts of Madame Cynthia Petrakis and the Noble Petrakis Foundation. Ushers walked around the room with wireless microphones looking for individuals with questions.

    The first came from a platinum blond woman in a striking red dress that was more revealing than imaginative. "Madame Petrakis," she spoke with a European accent. "I see in your magazine and in your slides, images of public defacement which many of you would call graffiti. Are you advocating the preservation of such work and support the defacement of public property?" She had a sneer to her last comment and even drew a few whispers of repose.

    Cynthia looked her straight in the eye. "I do not, nor ever will, advocate the destruction of public or private property. I added these images because the minds that created those images had a message reflecting their emotional state, their community or simply expressing their talent. It is the history of the young people, of any era, that must be recognized. Whether or not it may be too urban for some."

    The woman sat down embarrassed. She was an heiress of some rich family in Europe and had the perception of art being only valuable to the selected wealthy of the world. Cynthia purposely shamed her in front of her peers of potential supporters. Again applause rang out and Cynthia scanned the audience when she saw an eager hand shoot up from the side. It was the hand of Channel 6 reporter Samantha Reid. She smiled and acknowledged her. "Miss Reid of Channel 6 News. I want to say thank you to you and your team for covering our event."

    Jerimiah clapped the loudest and again the hall was filled with applause. An usher handed Samantha a wireless microphone and she approached the stage for everyone to get a better view of her and for camera angles for the shoot.

    "Thank you Madame Petrakis for having us here. I have two questions if I may." She paused as Madame Petrakis nodded her head. "I have noticed there are no members of the political arena, city, state or Federal attending tonight's gala. Was this by design? And two, your foundation will have international impact, how will you deal with the different governments, many of them going through their own political strife?"

    Cynthia knew she made the right decision in bring Samantha Reid to the Reopening Gala. For someone to work on the local level, she had the intelligence for a national news network. "Mental note, consider Miss Reid for opportunities in the near future," she thought to herself.

    The voice responded unexpectedly. "Will do!" She was startled at the response since the voice been so quiet during the presentation but decided to turn her attention back to Miss Reid's questions.

    "I purposely did not invite any politicians to this event because many of them would sacrifice creative expression for whatever reason they deem fit. In so doing, they have caused the problems in society to boil and explode. If they are balancing a budget, what is the first to go? Art, music, and other creative activities. This impacts the children first and then people of various ages.

    "The closure of this museum is the proof of that. I will rely solely on the people to keep this museum and make the foundation a permanent fixture in their communities around the world. As for the different governments around the world," she drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I will appeal the United Nations in their efforts of securing and protecting art in all forms from areas that suppress human initiative to create freely and to express themselves. Too often I have seen many works burned, destroyed or hoarded in private collections through criminal means."

    Silence gripped the hall as Cynthia gripped the edges of the podium. "Look at the foundation as an artistic amnesty for those objects or persons wishing to explore their abilities. It is no different from parents displaying their children's artwork on their office walls with pride. But with a degree of higher stakes."

    "So will you exclude dealing with politics all together?" Samantha asked.

    "With politics, I and my foundation will not have any part. But to deal with government agencies on humanitarian efforts, that will be the open path I will take," she answered honestly and fully. It seemed to answer the question to Samantha's satisfaction as she passed the microphone back to the usher.

    "Madame Petrakis?" Jerimiah raised his hand to be acknowledged.

    "Professor Clarke, your question for the evening."

    "Do you have limitations on grants for archaeological and exploratory research?" he asked with a grin.

    Cynthia face became serious. "Yes. The Foundation will grant scholarships, grants, and other resources for projects as you described. We even will entertain environmental studies. By the way," she held up the foundation publication. "This was printed on hemp based paper, environmentally friendly toner and energy saving printers. I would like to thank Ekon Publishing for providing tonight's programs and other hard copy media."

    Admiration was heard throughout the audience as they examined the publications more closely. "There are legal obligations for applying for grants but to not bore you with the details. Simply put, the foundation must have a detailed plan of action, what the result of the project is to be and the time for completion of the project. The funds from the foundation cannot be used for profit generating activities, legal or illegal, and will not be given out without background checks. You must understand the errors of other charities and foundations were zero accountability. The Noble Petrakis Foundation requires one hundred percent accountability. Otherwise the true meaning is lost."

    She looked at Jerimiah Clarke. "So Professor Clarke, no requests for discovering Atlantis, it was found already and the people inhabiting there hung a do not disturb sign on the front gate." The hall erupted in laughter as Jerimiah smiled and took his seat.

    "I will take two more questions and then I want to conclude tonight's ceremonies with a brief tour of the Metropolitan." She scanned the crowd and found a middle aged white man with balding hair and gold rimmed glasses.

    "Madame, I was looking at the donation section of your brochure and wanted to ask about the donations. Does the foundation accept monetary donations only?"

    "The Foundation," Cynthia started. "Accepts all forms of donations. Money, artwork, materials and even time. If you want to assist the Foundation or any of its subsidiary projects, we will be happy to accept. There is no limit; anyone can donate anything anywhere, hence the website: www.NPFoundation.org. The foundation will not share your information with any other organization and what you give can either be a one-time donation or annually. And yes, each donation, no matter in what form, is tax-deductible!" The tax-deductible comment drew cheers from more of the wealthy guests, hard looks toward them from others.

    "One last question and then we shall have a light dinner and then the tour."

    "Excuse me, Miss Petrakis." A young white male with long dark hair, a rock star sensation, raised his hand and taking the microphone a tad forcefully. "You talked about more of the physical art than you have non-physical work. By that I mean music. What are you doing about preserving music? Will there be a showcase for all forms of music?"

    "A new building has been erected for music history. It is an archive and amphitheater for groups of people to enjoy musical selections of all genres that are featured for the exhibit or to select any the group one wishes to hear. Do most of you here remember music stores in which you can listen to music selections before purchasing the album?" Most of the audience shook their heads with an affirmative nod. "Listening kiosks have been setup within the amphitheater so a patron can browse any music genre they wish. Also, the can plug their own headphones in and browse to their hearts content." She looked at the young man, recognizing him. "And Mr. Heavy Fusion, I loved your last album. With your permission I would like to add it to the museum collection."

    "Righteous!" He yelled as he sat down all smiles.

    She smiled and held up her hand. "And now ladies and gentleman, if would like to-"

    "Madame Petrakis, I would like to ask what treasures from your Greek collection you will be donating to the museum." The inquiry came from an old man in the back of the hall. He was tall with a long graying beard, piercing blue eyes. The man wore a simple long sleeved shirt with slacks of the same color of white. Something about the gentleman rubbed Cynthia the wrong way, something about his eyes. She was more annoyed with the interruption than with the question. The abrupt question drew a few stares from people closest to him. Then Cynthia remembered who the individual was, someone who helped with the restoration of the artwork in the museum. Still she answered with obvious annoyance.

    "Mr. Abraham Cromwell ladies and gentlemen. He and his group from Cromwell Restorations worked tirelessly to restore the countless art pieces in the museum to get them ready for exhibit." People clapped at his contribution and then Cynthia went on. "The collection I have donated will be on display in the Ancient Greek Corridors. It is an assortment of weapons, literature and artifacts from multiple ages. Many are from my personal collection and heirlooms handed down in my family for generations."

    She paused and composed herself. "This is what I am referring to in donating to the foundation and its overall cause. It will be labelled the Petrakis collection. One of many I have premiered around the country and the world in well-established museums."

    Noticing she was now damaging the podium by gripping on the sides to hard, she stepped from behind in and stood in front of the screen with the logo of the Foundation. The old man smiled and returned to his seat in obvious delighted at the news.

    "Now if there are no further questions, I thank you all for coming. In the Gathering Hall we have set out small tables and chairs for a light dinner. This will give us all a chance to enjoy each other's company and twenty minutes later, your exclusive tour will begin." She bowed as everyone stood in an ovation cheering her. She slowly descended the stairs and shook everyone's hand and led them slowly into the Gathering Hall.

    Samantha grabbed the microphone from Estelle and stepped in front of her camera. "This is Samantha Reid. You at home have just seen the exclusive of the evening. Not only the reopening of Metropolitan Museum of Art, but the announcement of the creation of the Noble Petrakis Foundation that will protect artwork from artists around the world. We will now take the private tour of the new exhibits and some old ones from the past, but we are not allowed to bring the cameras on this tour for tonight. However, we are assured we can take the public tour tomorrow with all of you who are eagerly awaiting return the Metropolitan. We will be signing off here from the museum. If there are any new developments, we will bring it to you. This is Samantha Reid, Channel 6 News, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Good night."

    After counting down, Raphael shut down the camera. "This is great! Never thought we would get so much this evening. Estelle, how did they like it back in the studio?"

    Estelle was on the phone with the producers in the station and they were giving her good news. "Excellent, everyone loved the shoot and the producers of the channel did not mind preempting our schedule tonight because we got the highest viewer rating!" Estelle's smile and enthusiasm could not be contained.

    Even Raphael sported a large smile but not for the footage shot for the evening. Pleasant smells of the dinner course offered in the Gathering Hall made Raphael smile and drool again. "I must see a doctor after tonight. I think I am overstimulated!"

    Samantha and Estelle laughed at Raphael as he wiped his lips. With the equipment locked away and secured in a security office, the three from Channel 6 stood facing each other, happier than in weeks of reporting together. "So, back to the buffet tables for round two?" Samantha asked as she had a renewed appetite but soon spied Jerimiah speaking to several people after Madame Petrakis left the hall. "On second thought, I will catch up with you guys when we start the tour."

    Samantha weaved her way through the crowd toward her boyfriend leaving Raphael and Estelle to head for the food. Soon after, she reached Jerimiah as he concluded his conversation with a few philanthropists gathered around him.

    "Did you get any money from them? A few million to work in northern Europe on an excavation?" Samantha said with a smile as she held Jerimiah's hands.

    "A promise to consider my proposals and a call," he said as he leaned in and kissed Samantha lightly on the lips. "They were in awe of Madame Petrakis, as I am. She is such an incredible woman, but there is something more to her I cannot put my finger on."

    "You mean that she is rich, obviously single and gorgeous?" said in a sly tone from Samantha.

    "Really? I have not noticed that she is rich." Jerimiah enjoyed fencing with Samantha even though one wrong word and it would lead to the deadly silent treatment. The last time it was issued, Jerimiah had not heard from Samantha for three weeks, it drove him crazy but it was part of the relationship. He knew deep down he will have to start taking a more serious role in their relationship. All in time, he said to himself.

    "Come on, let's get some food and then enjoy the tour. If you are not busy tonight, I can come by your place."

    Samantha hugged Jerimiah. "That sounds great. I think I will head to the station and then home. You still got the keys right?"

    "Yes, yes I do."

    "Good." The two of them walked hand in hand to the buffet tables past the small circular tables that looked like well styled patio furniture, to join the rest of the crowd, now energized by tonight's speech. This was a spectacular evening, the two of them thought.

    The guests were now occupying the tables and having a social gathering of the elite. Cynthia walked among them to look for the old man that rattled her during the questions. He found her and slowly approached. A waiter walked to Madame Petrakis and Abraham Cromwell with a tray of wine in well-crafted crystal glasses, where they both took one glass. "Mr. Cromwell, you and staff did an excellent job on the exhibits. My compliments."

    Abraham Cromwell smiled. "Thank you Madame Petrakis. I apologize for the abrupt question this evening. I found it an honor to work on such works of art. It was a great thrill and pleasure. The pieces from your private collection interest me. It has been many years since I have seen artifacts like those in your possession. I would like to know how they came into your family's ownership." the old man asked, with a flattering tone. His voice was not so deep but sounded as if he spoke in a purposeful low tone. Obviously not moved by his charm, Cynthia scrutinized the old man.

    "I take it you were looking at the pieces not yet on display from my private collection?" Cynthia folded her arms.

    "Please don't be upset. I peeked and was impressed. In working in different arts centers here and there, I have seen items from your collection on display. Quite impressive," he stated as he took a sip of wine.
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CHAPTER 1
The Gala

Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, October 15, 2012, 7:35PM

     The autumn in New York City was always something to be appreciated. Many citizens took to the streets enjoying the events that celebrated the season and the upcoming holidays. For some, they either cling to the warm summer days or embrace the brisk cool winter days approaching. Whatever the activity or holiday, this day in mid-October was a special event for many New Yorkers and for many of those who have lived in the city for numerous years.

     The reopening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art was seen as an essential part of New York City coming back to life. Since 2008 the museum had suffered similarly the same fate as many financial institutions across the country: financial mismanagement. Who in the city could have imagined the financial backers of this institution would have allowed this landmark museum to close?  For years, a committee of patrons, private contributors and city officials met to reopen this museum and to determine a new management structure. Unfortunately, the committee failed to reach an agreement and the ones who lost out were the avid museum goers, school children and tourists from around the world. Tonight however, the New York icon would come back and is all thanks to someone whose citizenship is from another country.

     Life in and around the museum seemed to spring up overnight. Workmen appeared and began assessing the grounds around the museum. First, it was an effort to restore the museum building, pavement, fountains and walkways. At the behest of the new benefactor, a new carport was added to allow celebrities, school children and even press to disembark and enter the museum with ease. This was also created to ease the traffic on Fifth Avenue, which went over very nicely with the city council. Next to arrive were dozens of art restorers to evaluate the condition of the artwork, sculptures and dozens of pieces of work either still in their displays or locked in storage. New Yorkers gathered for days and weeks just watching the people work on their museum, waiting for the Opening Day. Word got out that a sole private concern bought the museum, the surrounding property and was in charge of the artwork the museum contained. Concern spread over the possibility the Metropolitan would now be a private museum and everyone will have to pay enormous entrance fees to enter. Luckily, the new owner heard the "cries of the people" and released a statement claiming the museum will operate close to how it was in the past. "Going to the museum should be an enriching experience. Not a financial, crippling, incident," a posted on the revamped website and submitted to the news outlets.

    The people were relieved and a renewed sense of excitement settled around the museum. As the time of the opening drew, the mysterious benefactor/owner allowed more information to be released about the upcoming events the museum was to sponsor: floating art galleries for various artists from various walks of life, school tours during week, more exhibitions for public and private concerns, music ensembles and mini concerts, and more international artwork displays.

    The name of this new owner was Madame Cynthia Petrakis of Greece. Arguably one of the richest women in the world, she was the reclusive philanthropist who stepped in to save this icon from oblivion. Until this evening, Madame Petrakis was rarely seen in the public and spent most of her time championing for the archeological sciences for study, not for profit. Her vast wealth influenced many to preserve the artistic efforts of the human condition and to understand the history of mankind. She owned numerous museums and perseveration centers around the world, even donated items from her personal collection for display. But rarely this persona of wealth and beauty has made a public appearance. For nearly twenty years, Madame Petrakis sponsored many charity events, educational programs, scholarships, artistic sponsorships, archeological explorations, humanitarian efforts and an investor for the development and exploration of newer and better technologies.

    Many have incorrectly labeled her as an industrialist, in which she has replied, "Industrialists means to change the world by harsh and/or extreme means. I consider myself to be more of a servant to the people, anywhere for those who wish strive for a better life."

    Upon hearing this, people around the world and in New York City assume this was a political statement and she was seeking office. Political analysts even determined this was the case since the nation of Greece was in turmoil and she would use her vast wealth to fund a new foundation of a government. Even this analysis was untrue.

    With all of the new renovations Madame Petrakis added to the museum, most notably additional parking and car port space, more individuals showed up for the Opening Gala than originally anticipated. Mostly were bystanders who, with their cell phone cameras, wanted to catch a glimpse of the celebrities, officials, artists and other influential people gathering for this sneak preview of the reopening of the museum. Police and museum security worked feverishly to control the crowds, maintain the flow of traffic and manage the dozens of news crews showing up and disembarking their cameras in the area creating an additional traffic bottle neck. Rumors circulating around the news reporters that only one news team will be allowed into the museum to cover exclusively the opening and any announcements from the chief benefactor of the new Metropolitan Museum of Art. Some of the news crews were so desperate for a chance to be chosen that a few producers and news anchors attempted to bribe the museum security in the hope of getting better noticed by this reclusive philanthropist. Unfortunately for some of the overzealous news crews, they were flatly turned down and told to retreat to the designated areas for the press.

    Indeed, it would be a night to remember! Persons of interest slowly made their way to the museum; some greeted fans and spoke with the news casters on the stairs leading into the museum. Others simply waved and made their way into the gathering area, searching for the wine and hors d'oeuvres. The weather was perfect for the evening, the people were happy and excited, even the stars in the sky appear to shine brighter despite the light pollution of New York City. All that was left was the arrival of the mistress of the evening's ceremony.

* * *

    In a white stretch limousine several blocks away, slowly cruising down Fifth Avenue approaching Central Park, Madame Cynthia Petrakis sat in a regal position as still as a statue! She was nervous and she could not account as to why she felt so. Madame Petrakis had spoken in front of crowds before, the few times she's made public appearances, even to her staff members on various projects which inevitably lead her to the status she currently enjoyed. However, Madame Petrakis felt that the night's festivities had the impression of impending doom, or more embarrassing, that she may fail entirely and fall flat on her face. Her precognition foretold the evening will be marred by some incident, yet the vision/feeling failed to reveal the nature of the circumstance. She had the notion to withdraw and cancel the event but so many people looked forward to not only the museum opening but to see the infamous Madame Petrakis as well.

    She wrenched her hands together as she gazed out the window toward Central Park. A few weeks prior during the final stages of museum reconstruction, she decided to take a walk through the park and find her own way back to the building she owned on the Upper West Side. It was a lovely day but would soon give way to rain. She surmised that a quick walk through the park and she would beat the rain home. How wrong she was. Three teens decided to mug her with the intention of sexually assaulting her. Even after she pleaded with them, offered them money to leave her be, they decided to rough her up, pushing her to ground. For a moment during the assault she played the victim, allowing them to assume they were in control. When skies grew dark and heavy with rain, she showed them who was in control. The three teens went missing that day and only Cynthia Petrakis knew for sure what happened.

    This unnerved her. "They deserved their fate! If they merely let me be…"

    Slowly she inhaled and tried to relax. Too many circumstances depended on the night going forward and it would be a bad mark on her reputation to cancel without explanation. So many people depended on the museum reopening; New York City was depending on it! Failure was something she will not easily submit to.

    Sitting straighter in her plush limousine seat, she looked at dozens of newspapers sprawled about the passenger cab. Some were international newspapers written in different languages and some local papers. The last paper she was reading was a Greek newspaper called the Greek Tribune, International. On its front pages showed the images of continued unrest and decay of the Hellenic Parliament's influence in all of its cities. Images of fire, blood and people suffering conveyed more of the message than words ever could. She was beginning to tear up when the voice spoke in her mind.

    "Maybe you should cancel tonight's opening if you are so moved by what is occurring your native homeland." A voice deep in her mind pointed out.

    Cynthia inhaled and then smiled to herself. "No," she thought firmly. "This night is very important to those here and abroad. I will not abandon these people to save others. Our purpose is to help those in need, not to harm them."

    "Were we thinking that when those teens came at us in the park?" The voice fired back. Cynthia's demeanor changed, anger started to boil inside of her.

    "I have very little regret for those who chose a path of evil and destruction. I was taken against my will once, never again!" Cynthia's hands started to tremble and as she looked at them, they seem to be drained of their natural skin tone. Her finger nails started to grow outwardly. She quickly grasped a mirror in the passenger visor and looked into it. Her face began to gray slightly. Cynthia started to panic but quickly regained her composure. She began to breathe deeply and meditate on the words that will bring her "condition" back under control. After a few moments, her hands returned back to normal and a glance in the mirror showed her beautiful face. Without looking away, she reached for her small makeup bag and reapplied her red shade lipstick to her full lips.

    "Is it your intention to antagonize me before the Reopening Gala event? I thought you were the helpful one in my life?" Cynthia asked internally as she finished her makeup application.

    The voice sounded a bit annoyed and hurt when it replied, "Certainly not! But this is your first, huge public gathering in years. Since I have watched hours of television and the Internet, I know there will be individuals that will say and do things to make you lose your composure." It paused while Cynthia sat back on her seat and straightened the newspapers. "In our case, losing your composure will be disadvantageous for our ultimate goals. I am aware you are nervous, but rest in the knowledge that you are accomplishing a great deed for the people of this age."

    As the limousine slowly made its way down Fifth Avenue, Cynthia looked again at the park where she was attacked. "You are right! We are doing great thing!" She accidentally said aloud. From the driver seat, the Salvatore responded to his employer's comments over the limo's intercom.

    "Yes ma'am! We are on time for the event despite the traffic. I called ahead to the museum and everything is going well." Salvatore reported.

    Cynthia responded. "Thank you Salvatore." She felt embarrassed that she was not aware she was speaking aloud. "Take it easy on the streets."

    "Yes Madame Petrakis. We are now less than ten minutes away and just about all of the guests are there."

    Cynthia nodded and muted the intercom. "I'm hoping there will be no problems tonight. But if there are, we will have to let others handle it."

    "That is what we pay them for," the voice shot back. "In the meantime, let's see who is giving us the best coverage of the reopening. We still need to pick one news team remember?"

    Reaching for a touch screen specially installed in the limousine, Cynthia tapped the menu to select the broadcast TV function and twelve tiled windows appeared on the twenty-four inch monitor. Simultaneously she viewed and listened to all of the news casts. She admired the professional performance of the anchors who patiently waited for the arrival of Madame Cynthia Petrakis. However, all of them lacked emotion, a sense of anticipation and eagerness reflecting the significance of the museum opening. She was about to decide not to let any of them in when she focused on one news broadcast. Touching the window for that particular anchor, she not only felt this female news anchor had the right qualities she was looking for but it was the person she was standing with.

    "This is Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News and I am standing with archaeologist Jerimiah Clarke who may be able to shed some light on what we can expect from the reopening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

    Speaking into the microphone offered to him, Jerimiah Clarke spoke. "Well Miss Reid, you can expect to see the museum restored to its original splendor as well as new exhibits from around the world. Madame Cynthia Petrakis cares about the arts and the people…or the peoples who create them."

    As Cynthia's limousine drew closer to the site, she made a decision whom to invite for the gathering in the museum. "I think that is a good choice seeing how he was a big help to us in the past," the voice said.

    "Did we send him an invitation?" she asked quietly.

    After a minute of thinking, both Cynthia and the voice sighed in a negative tone. "I am glad he showed up in any case." Cynthia remarked. "Looks like he will be joining us."

    Cynthia agreed with the voice in her head and decided to invite Jerimiah Clarke and the Channel 6 News Team into the Reopening Gala!

* * *

    Minutes earlier, standing across the street from museum stood a tall African American man with a dark brown trench coat, black Kangol cap, white button down shirt, black pants and shoes. Over his left shoulder he wore a well-worn brown leather saddle bag. He leaned on the lamp post, surveying the crowds around the museum. It seemed to him that the people gathered around the museum were looking to get in would fail in their attempt; security was tight enough to allow not even a squirrel. Still he surveyed the area. Jerimiah Clarke was a well-known archaeologist and an adjunct university professor of history/archaeology. It pained him at first that he was not invited to this gala event. Deep down he was happy the museum will be opening after many years being closed; he relished the idea of going inside and seeing the old exhibits as well as new ones Madame Petrakis added. Difficult to do without an invite. At times he worked for Madame Cynthia Petrakis or rather through intermediary concerns; in so doing he felt that an invitation would not be a big concern. Still, his chances of getting into the private museum ceremonies slim to none, not to mention meeting Madame Petrakis herself.

    He frowned and rubbed his face. His hands told him that he should have shaved at 6:15 when his five o'clock shadow appeared. No matter, he wanted to meet Madame Petrakis face to face and share with her some concerns about a possible theft in her museum. For the past several weeks, Jerimiah had been tracking a rash of museum robberies across the country. Many of them related to Madame Petrakis in the way of her owning the museums or had exhibits on display at other institutions. The items stolen were more of the academic type than of monetary value. Ancient texts written on tablets, parchment or other media were taken in favor of objects made of silver, gold, diamonds and other precious metals. This is what baffled investigators, however, Jerimiah understood the robberies to be a part of a more elaborate and sinister plot unfolding. Strange, he thought to himself as Madame Petrakis had to be aware of the robberies and yet still open the Metropolitan Museum with little or no concern. He deduced a robbery may spoil the gala if the criminals were bold enough to try a theft. Knowing Cynthia Petrakis' reputation, the robberies will not deter her from opening the museum.

    "With all of these people, guards, and police, it seems a perfect time to do so," Jerimiah whispered to himself. Most of the robberies took place during the day while people and security were present. It appears that these criminals like to use the crowds as a cover for their burglary. It was the perfect night to attempt such a crime. Still looking for a way in, he knew he had to try to meet Madame Petrakis and explain his findings. If not, there would be very little Jerimiah could do to prevent any larceny.

    His hopes were renewed when he saw the news van of the Channel 6 News. "I think she said she will be covering this museum event tonight. I hope she is." Jerimiah referred to his girlfriend Samantha Reid, news and field anchor for the local news. If she was there, maybe he could persuade Samantha to get close enough to Madame Petrakis when she arrives. It was worth a shot. Looking both ways on Fifth Avenue, Jerimiah stealthily made his way to the news van.

* * *

    "So we are expecting a great night from seeing this icon reopen and I know everyone in New York City has been anxiously waiting for a while!" A celebrity movie star, a man in his forties sporting a short blonde hairstyle with a slightly graying beard, talked excitedly into the microphone of Channel 6 reporter, Samantha Reid. The lovely African American woman who herself was beaming at Hollywood's newest power couple also felt the excitement. His wife, a tall, athletically built woman, star of many action films smiled into the camera widely while holding onto her husband's arm.

    "Well we thank you for stopping by and talking with us. Enjoy the Reopening Gala!" Samantha Reid wished the celebrity couple well as they both smiled and walked up the stairs into the museum. People cheered, clapped and snapped countless photos of the two as they made their way into the museum to join the other gathered invitees.

    "We had the pleasure of talking to the celebrity invitees who are calling this the event of the year!" Samantha Reid reported as she turned in the direction of the museum stairs still teaming with spectators, camera crews from other stations and the private security firm owned and operated by Petrakis Security. "As the hour draws closer to the 8:00PM, we still see no sign of the host of this Gala, Cynthia Petrakis. As many of you know she has single handedly saved this New York museum from being the latest casualty of financial ruin and foreclosure. But as you can see from all who have gathered here and the guests to have arrived, I imagine the future of this museum will be long lasting this time around."

    She paused, smiled and gestured to the museum. "I am Samantha Reid with Channel 6 News at the Gala Reopening at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, still waiting for the host of the evening. Back to the studio."

    Cameraman Raphael Castel and onsite producer Estelle Briggins both sighed as Samantha put down her microphone and walked over to the camera. "Well guys, do you think there is a chance?" she asked as Estelle handed her and Raphael cups of hot coffee.

    "Nope," Raphael said taking a long gulp. Samantha frowned in agreement.

    "There is a chance," Estelle started as she adjusted her thick rimmed glasses and brushed her long black hair out of her face. The crew shared a moment of silence. "At least we got a good spot and some good interviews but who knows if we will be the ones going in. But I imagine it will be the larger network crews who may get a chance. Local news will be left out."

    "I love your enthusiasm Estelle," Raphael expressed with annoyance.

    "I am only being realistic Raphael. It would be great to go in. However, I think she has made up her mind long ago as to who will be shooting from inside." She turned toward Samantha. "She is rich! The larger network crews have rich owners. Rich people tend to stick with their own."

    Raphael was about to protest but knew deep down he knew she was right. It was an honor to cover as much as they could since they camped out on the Metropolitan's front door step. Samantha finished her cup of coffee and looked at the museum doors. She had seen many other news crews attempting to make their way into the museum only to be turned away by the security guards. Rumors circulated more and more that only one news team would enter and anxiety was building. For the Channel 6 crew, hopes were dwindling.

    "If we don't get in, it is not the end of the world," Samantha surmised. "We have lots of footage to share and I for one will be back here tomorrow morning talking to the patrons as they have their opening day."

    Both Raphael and Estelle traded looks. "No problem. I will give you the number of the camera crew that will be available and you can go in the morning with them," Estelle announced. Raphael nodded his head in agreement and finished his coffee.

    "Come on guys. Where is your sense of adventure?"

    "At home, in bed, waiting for me," Raphael laughed. "But I won't be mad if I find it asleep."

    Samantha's shoulders heaved a bit as she looked at the older camera man. She wished he and Estelle would be eager enough to wait until the possible end, but being stationed at the museum since 5:00PM was tiring. This crew had covered many stories and received numerous awards in their five years together. Prospects of their being picked were shrinking and Samantha relented.

    "Maybe you guys are right. Let's call the station and head in."

    "You don't want to wait for the main attraction? She should be here soon." The comment came from a tall man wearing a saddle bag and a snap cap. Raphael shook his hand as he approached while Estelle simply smiled at him. Only Samantha had an unwelcoming look on her face as Jerimiah Clarke approached. He stopped just outside of arms distance, sensing the lukewarm reception.

    "Greetings, my lady. Such a beautiful night is it not?" Jerimiah said with an accent of romance. Both Raphael and Estelle made themselves scarce and waited in the news van.

    "I thought you told me you would be out of town. I thought you would call me. I thought of you more than you of me!" Samantha said firmly.

    "Well," Jerimiah started carefully and looking directly into her light brown eyes. "I was starting to leave for Chicago to follow up on those museum robberies when I remembered the Metropolitan Museum was opening today. I went to my office, gathered my notes and figured I could get in or get a few minutes with Cynthia Petrakis. I unfortunately did not get an invite."

    "And in all that time you never thought to call or text me?" Samantha's arms were crossed and she was tapping her shoe on the pavement. That look, the one that said, You are in trouble! was written all over the reporters face for Jerimiah to read.

    Clearing his throat, the archaeologist answered, "I knew without a doubt you would be here!" A big grin played across his face.

    Samantha burst out in a small laugh and hugged Jerimiah. "I miss you. I wish you would stay home more often."

    "I will give up my night job and you your day job and we can stay home together all the time," Jerimiah commented sarcastically.

    The two looked at the crowds when Samantha looked up at Jerimiah and then her eyes widened. She banged on the van door, signaling for Raphael and Estelle to come outside. The two jumped out and looked at Samantha. "What's up?" Raphael asked.

    "One more interview, with Professor Clarke here!" Samantha was reaching for the microphone and getting herself ready and moving Jerimiah into a good position.

    "Are you serious Samantha? I thought we are calling it a night," Estelle protested.

    "Yup! Very serious!" Samantha grabbed her microphone and stood next to Jerimiah.

    "I don't think the station will preempt any more time for this museum coverage," Estelle attempted to explain. "We are flying almost solo here."

    Samantha continued to ready herself and gave Estelle the look that said, Make sure the studio is ready for another live feed. As she put her earpiece in place, she was once again plugged into the studio via wireless feed. She could hear the chatter in the background as Channel 6 News manager relented to accept the additional live coverage. Estelle talked into her headset to help clear up the confusion about the final interview for the evening.

    "Chief says this is the last one. The network is on the hook for its programming for the prime time hour. If we don't get in the museum, it is a wrap for the tonight!"

    Samantha nodded moved the new interviewee into the view of the camera.

    "What a cute couple!" Raphael remarked as he set up his camera. Estelle waited for the cameraman to get ready and then held up her hand to silently countdown Samantha to start her interview.

    "This is Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News and I am standing with archaeologist Jerimiah Clarke who may be able to shed some light on what can we expect from the reopening of the Metropolitan Museum of Art."

    Speaking into the microphone offered to him, Jerimiah Clarke shared his opinion. "Well Miss Reid, you can expect to see the museum restored to its original splendor as well as new exhibits from around the world. Madame Cynthia Petrakis cares about the arts and people…or peoples who created them."

    "So you say there will be much of the same art work as before?"

    "Yes and no. From what I know of Madame Cynthia Petrakis, she is an advocate of the preservation of the arts and showcasing the human expression. I am sure she will encourage people from all walks of life to come and share in her passion as well as influence others for sharing their artwork. I know from personal experience that she is also a staunch supporter of archaeology, which is my field of experience." Jerimiah smiled at the camera and continued. "From all over the world she has sponsored excavations and other programs to unearth, so to speak, the past of human history."

    "History and the preservation of it seem to be one of her great passions, wouldn't you say?" Samantha asked.

    "One of her passions, yes! But our host is into education, humanitarian efforts, you name it, she will have some association with it."

    With a sly expression, Samantha asked the obvious question. "Professor Clarke, you don't happen to have an invitation to this Reopening event do you?"

    "Sadly, no. But I came down to show my support and to also get a glimpse of the lady of the evening."

    Just as Jerimiah finished his comment, a hush and then a sound of elation swept through the crowd. Everyone turned to see the white limousine driving into the carport. Police and security made sure all of the area was clear for the arrival of the lady herself, Madame Petrakis.

* * *

    Cameras were rolling, snapping and recording the limousine as it cruised to a halt. The driver exited on his side and moved swiftly to the passenger side. He waited for a minute until Cynthia Petrakis signaled that she was ready to exit. He opened the door and offered his hand to assist the lady of the evening. Cynthia Petrakis stepped out and absorbed the moment. People gasped at her beauty and elegance.

    Taking another deep breath, Cynthia looked out at the crowd and news vans searching for Channel 6 news crew. She spotted them and told herself, "Showtime."

    The voice in her head replied, "Don't turn this into a wild party! You know these New Yorkers will party all the way to New Year's Day!"

    Cynthia Petrakis stood five feet, nine inches tall. She wore a long white shimmering dress with no sleeves and collared at the neck. A silver shoal was draped about her shoulders and she carried a small white purse. Her hair was dark, long and worn pinned back, highlighting her eyes. It gave her a romantic look. Her brown eyes were dark and inviting, flawless skin peaked through the dress. Her nails were painted a dark silver color which matched her toe nails in her flat, open toe shoes. Everyone was taken with her! So much so, flashbulbs lit up the carport outside of the museum. The first major public appearance of the reclusive billionaire Madame Cynthia Petrakis in New York City was the highlight of the fall night.

    Her beauty was such that people murmured to themselves about her age. Some said twenty, others said between thirty or forty years of age. In actuality no one knew how old Cynthia Petrakis was and she was not going to reveal her age to anyone since no one would ever believe her.

    As the cameras continued to flash, applause started and grew into cheers! For a moment, Cynthia took the moment and in return, smiled and waved at the crowd politely. Salvatore closed the door to the limousine and drove away slowly into the garage, taking care not produce a rush of air and dirt to blow onto his employer.

    Looking about, she located the Channel 6 news van and saw the individuals that caught her attention. With grace, she slowly walked over to them.

    "Raphael, tell me you are still shooting," inquired Estelle as she stared open mouthed at the approaching museum curator and owner. Cynthia Petrakis was as lovely as Estelle thought along with the fact that her career may take a turn for the best.

    Raphael on the other hand was calm, collected and felt as if he was at a peep show displaying a classy, intelligent woman. He found himself drooling a bit as he hid his face behind the camera. "Of course you silly girl, now look professional!"

    Cynthia approached Jerimiah Clarke with a hand extended. "Mr. Clarke, so pleased to make your acquaintance in person."

    Jerimiah grasped gently but noticed at once her hand was cold but immediately warmed. Odd, he thought to himself. For a briefest of moments, he felt an electric shock from the handshake. Jerimiah was sure Cynthia felt it as well when her dark eyebrow raised slightly. "I am honored to meet you." He wanted to say more but thought better of it.

    Cynthia turned her attention toward Samantha. "You must be Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News. I admire your journalism and news reporting."

    "Thank you so very much," Samantha beamed. "Would you care to say something to our viewers at home and online?"

    "Now don't ham it up or take too long, we have a party to go to," the voice shrieked internally. In Cynthia's mind, she sent an emotional bolt of thought that basically told the voice to be quiet. She, however, heeded the advice.

    "Briefly. And if you please, you all must come in with me to attend the ceremonies," Cynthia gestured to Jerimiah and the news crew. "I want to thank the people of New York for supporting my efforts to the reopening this institution. I want it understood that that this not my museum; I am merely the caretaker and will provide the best I can offer to the public. Tomorrow the city will be able to see their museum reopen more magnificent than before."

    She took Jerimiah by the arm and said casually, "Care to escort me into the new Metropolitan Museum of Art, Mr. Clarke?"

    The archaeologist smiled, looking back briefly at Samantha and winking as he escorted Madame Petrakis up the stairs to the museum. Samantha Reid stepped in front of the camera to share the good news. "This is Samantha Reid of Channel 6 News. By special invitation of Madame Cynthia Petrakis, this crew has been invited inside to the Opening Gala festivities. Please stay tuned for additional coverage!"

    Raphael, Estelle and Samantha gathered up their gear, locked up the van and headed up the stairs behind Madame Petrakis.

    Raphael spoke to himself but out loud. "I hope there is more than just wine and cheese being served."

    Madame Petrakis overheard him and replied, "Yes, I believe olives and crackers as well!"

    Raphael didn't think that she would hear him but he knew women generally have unearthly hearing. She smiled back at him to let the cameraman know there were no hard feelings. Estelle did not share the sentiment and shot him a look and mouthed "Mind your tongue!"

    As they walked up the stairs, Estelle turned around to see other news crews frown at her. One or two held up a profane gesture to her while others simply packed their gear and drove away. Channel 6 was chosen out of everyone else to come in and view the event, due to no small measure of Jerimiah Clarke.

    The newly invited guests were ushered by the guards to the reception area where the other arrived invitees shared conversation, wine and hors d'oeuvres. Estelle and Raphael took in the large hall and decided on a spot where they could shoot to get a good view of Madame Petrakis. Cynthia walked among her guests where she heard numerous accolades. She looked at the faces of the people gathered and smiled warmly.

    "They all love you! If they only knew your secrets, maybe they would change their minds." The voice bellowed from deep within her mind. Cynthia was about the curse and chastise the voice, but understood its purpose for speaking out. The deadly sin of vanity played about her. She was like a queen coming into her new palace. Every brick, stone, tile, and curtain was overseen by the Madame herself. Why should she not feel like a queen? Humility was the best play for her but still, it was an honor to be so welcomed and appreciated. Cynthia left Jerimiah Clarke for the moment and turned to the crowd, held her hands up and blew out a kiss.

    "Thank you all for coming! Thank you for your support of this fine museum. I promise you will all see the hard work it took to bring back this institution of art and preservation." The crowd cheered loudly as Raphael caught the reaction of the gathered guests and every motion of this beautiful woman.

    Inside the grand structure, many people who visited this museum before always found it to be a colossal place. However, several years without care and restoration would dull its magnificence. Madame Petrakis made sure this place was inviting and welcoming to all who would visit. Normally, the entrance hall would be setup to receive public visitors. Tonight it was transformed into a reception and gathering area. To the right, a stage, chairs and large display wall was setup for the speech and announcements made by Madame Petrakis later in the evening. In the center area, food from the finest caterers in the city was serving the numerous celebrities and other influential people. Wine and other "light" spirits were also served. Many of the guests took to the wine more so than the food, but the general feeling was that no one should over indulge and get drunk. The museum security officers kept a watchful eye over the guests and saw to it that no one got out of hand to spoil the event.

    Jerimiah looked at the hall admiring the restored architecture. "You really don't appreciate something so beautiful or magnificent until it is taken from you. I wished I'd visited this place more often," Jerimiah thought out loud as he walked with the woman who brought life back to institution.

    "That is why I bought this place and made it available to all who truly cherished it. It is sad we have to say goodbye to those things we love but do not take the time to appreciate it," Cynthia replied. She turned back to Samantha and her news crew. "Please take a moment to get set up over in the Announcement Hall and enjoy some food. I will mingle with our guests for a few minutes and then its onto to the show."

    "If you have a moment Madame I wish to show you something rather important," Jerimiah asked with urgency. He pleaded with his eyes. Biting her lower lip she nodded. Jerimiah then went into his saddlebag, withdrew his tablet and in a few seconds had the information of the museum robberies on the screen. Cynthia, with a serious expression on her face, looked at the images and notes Jerimiah collected.

    "Are you seeing these?" she asked the voice in her head.

    "Yes, I am able to see and remember all of the images, you can speed through them and we can process this later," the voice answered. Moving through the slides of information, Jerimiah noticed that her eyes were wide open and unmoving as Cynthia slid her finger very quickly across the screen.

    Can she possibly be reading everything that I am showing her, Jerimiah wondered to himself. Once she reached the end of the presentation, she quickly opened up Jerimiah's email and then another window for programming. After a minute of working, she handed the tablet back to Jerimiah.

    "I skimmed through your information," she said in an even, almost emotionless tone. "And rest assured I will be reviewing it in the back of my mind. I created a special protocol on your tablet to instantly forward any information directly to my digital access points. Email, phone, my private server network, et cetera. Any data you find useful to me or my endeavors, I would like for you to have unrestricted access to my information network." She paused and then flashed a sinister yet playful smile. "But don't dare spam me!"

    How happy he could be having almost direct access to Cynthia Petrakis, anytime anywhere. He was speechless for a minute until he found himself back in the real world. "I take it then I am working for the Petrakis concern?"

    "Yes, you are," she answered warmly. "Now if you will excuse me for a few minutes, time to play the hostess."

    Cynthia walked slowly and began the long ritual of smiling, hand shaking and greeting all of her guests. Everyone invited scarcely knew Madame Cynthia Petrakis but did not refuse the prestigious invitation; conversely she knew everyone in the museum hall.

    Jerimiah reviewed the program Cynthia created on his tablet. All of the information about the museum robberies was copied and transferred into her network as she said. The more Jerimiah slowly explored the mystery of Cynthia Petrakis, the more he felt drawn to her in a supernatural way. Fortunately, it was not only a physical attraction; Samantha would kill him or at the very least stop speaking to him if it was anything like that.

    "At least I will get a show and some food out of this night," he said to himself as he checked his coat, kept his saddlebag and headed toward the food tables. He spotted Samantha and headed in her direction.

* * *

    Assessing the lecture/announcement area was easy. Finding the best location to shoot the upcoming announcement from Madame Cynthia Petrakis was no effort at all. Deciding what to eat at the elaborate spread of food was the tough part. Samantha and Jerimiah spent their time wandering the hall among people who could be considered some of the most powerful and influential people in the country and perhaps the world. They stopped to speak to a few of the persons and had a pleasant time. For Estelle and Raphael, they had never seen an elaborate spread. With empty plates in hand they toured the tables of food. After a second time around the six long tables of food, a blonde haired female chef intervened in their food tour.

    "I don't want to rush you guys, but I have good information that the lady of the evening will soon be calling the guests into the next room for the announcement in ten minutes, at 8:45PM," she whispered. "Don't feel bad, some of the people were here even longer and only ate salad!"

    Estelle laughed and then said, "Thanks, sweetie. We will take a little bit of what you got there." She gestured with her hand and held out her plate for servings. Raphael simply nodded his head and held his plate forward as well.

    "This is why she is the boss and I am the cameraman," Raphael smiled as the girl piled up his and Estelle's plate high. The caterer laughed and complied with the request.

    The guests in hall were still talking and holding numerous conversations, many about Cynthia Petrakis herself. She continued to greet and meet her guests, all the while being admired by many from up close and from afar. As she walked through the people, Cynthia sensed the gathered guests were eager to hear what the evening had in store for them. No need to delay any further, besides, it was time. She signaled to the new museum director, Francesca Terceira, to come to her side.

    "Francesca, please call the guests into the conference hall and have security escort Mr. Jerimiah Clarke to the reserved chairs in the front row. Also, have the Channel 6 News team take their position for the recording."

    Francesca Terceira, a middle aged Spanish woman and well known international curator, nodded her head and withdrew a wireless microphone device from her navy blue suit jacket. After making some adjustments, she attached an earpiece with a microphone and walked into the crowd. Cynthia Petrakis made her way to the hall and sat in a large chair on stage facing the rows of empty chairs.

    "Everyone, may I have your attention please," Francesca announced as the noise of the excited guests died down. "Thank you. I am sure we are all enjoying the food, wine and company provided by Madame Cynthia Petrakis on the eve of a monumental undertaking. She thanks you all for attending and hopes she can count on you for continued support. So without further delay, let us gather in the conference hall. Please, feel free to take you food and drinks with you."

    Security guards began to usher everyone into the conference hall where rows of plush red leather chairs were waiting for its guests. A few guards escorted Samantha, Raphael and Estelle into the hall to allow them to setup their camera and microphone. Another guard escorted Jerimiah to the front row center aisle chair, where he had an excellent view of the stage and speaker. Behind the stage was a large display wall and slowly the images were becoming visible on it. The lights began to dim a bit as the projection wall brightened. The overhead projector displayed a series of images of the old Metropolitan Museum of Art in the days before its closure. To the left of the stage, he saw Madame Petrakis sitting quietly as Francesca walked up on the stage and took her place at the podium.

    "Good evening again. And welcome to the Reopening Gala of the Metropolitan Museum of Art." Everyone applauded and Francesca waited until they quieted. "I want to introduce our guest speaker for the evening but she has asked me to say a few words first. As many of you know, one of the worst tragedies to happen to this city is the closure of this fine museum. We allowed history and culture to fall prey to politics and corruption. If these occurrences were to continue, more museums here and around the country will follow the same fate."

    Images on the display wall showed the final days of the museum closing and the police taping the front doors. Days after, work crews hired by the city boarded up all of the windows as if the museum was an abandoned apartment building. Some of the guests whispered to each other in awe and shock.

    "Tonight, Madame Cynthia Petrakis will speak to you about the future of this museum and how we all fit into this plan." She turned and held her hand out to Madame Petrakis as she rose from her chair and approached the podium, "Ladies and gentlemen, Madame Cynthia Petrakis of Greece."

    Applause filled the hall as everyone stood on their feet and gave Madame Petrakis a great ovation. With a smile she took her position and waved for everyone to be seated.

    "Now be honest, you are applauding the wonderful catering and the great work of those in security detail and restoration teams. Correct?" The people clapped in acknowledgement, "There are many people involved with this night and the days ahead for the future of this museum. Their work should be acknowledged and recognized."

    The audience murmured and some clapped. Madame Petrakis stood straighter and allowed the images on the screen behind her to sync as she began her speech.

    "Throughout human existence, even from the most ancient cave paintings, we have documented and recorded our history. When I say our history, I simply mean human history; not just his story or her story. Unfortunately time and disasters have wiped away many different documentations or adaptations of thoughts and feelings of the human condition. But modern-day archaeologists, such as Jerimiah Clarke and many others from the Archaeological Association," she gestured to him with the raised hand. "They have worked tirelessly to preserve these works of art. Not just for the private consumption but the education of all mankind or I should say humankind. It is not always a man with a pen and paper to create an idea. Women have been part of his history as well. In many cases women have inspired men to paint and express themselves." She paused for a moment as images behind her transitioned from the simple cave paintings, to classics like the Mona Lisa and the Sistine Chapel and to other well-known to works of art.

    "The purpose for tonight's ceremony is to announce the new foundation that will ensure the protection and inspiration of art in all its forms. The Noble Petrakis Foundation is launching a global effort to preserve, life, history and human expression." The screen behind the speaker dissolved into a logo of the foundation, a simple line art tree with twelve branches, inside of a twelve sided polygon with the words, "The Noble Petrakis Foundation: Nobly preserving the human condition."

    As the logo appeared on the display, members from the museum staff walked along the inner and outer aisles handing out eight by ten, full color publications detailing the mission of the foundation. Many people took them and quickly flipped through the pages with interest. An usher handed several publications to the Channel 6 crew. "These really look like coffee table pieces," Raphael remarked.

    "Say what you will, Cynthia Petrakis is serious about her foundation. And we are covering it!" Samantha whispered in excitement. Estelle placed her hand on her anchor's shoulder and calmed her.

    "Please don't get us kicked out here. I still want to go back to the buffet table and sample more food." Estelle adjusted her glasses and then asked, "Do you think they will let us doggy bag any of the food?"

    Samantha shook her head in amusement. She looked at the front row at Jerimiah who was busy looking through the information Cynthia Petrakis distributed. His fingers flew across the tablet screen in avid joy.

    "I only wish he would use those fingers on me tonight with the same passion," thought Samantha.

    After several minutes of allowing her audience to flip through the publication, Cynthia Petrakis continued her speech. Behind her, the screens reflected the same vibrant images as those printed.

    "My foundation is called noble because its sole mission is to support endeavors that will protect true human expression; whether it is art, music, education, research to name a few. My family has privately supported such causes for decades, but I feel it is time to come into the light and make known our calls for support." She paused and allowed her eyes to sweep over the gathered supporters. "Tonight is not a simple call to open your wallets. It is a call to open your eyes, minds, hearts and think: What is important to me? How can I serve humanity, locally or abroad? In these times of declining values and collapsing governments, can we afford our history to fade away forever? What are we leaving for our future generations; is it not the proper to prevent the mistakes we have made?"

    The final image showed a collection of young children of various cultures and races walk through a museum showing artwork from around the world. The audience responded to the final images with slight applause and speaking softly amongst themselves.

    "I thank you for your attention and I will now open the floor for questions." Cynthia shoulders seemed to relax a bit as the tension of the speech was over and the people began to clap for the efforts of Madame Cynthia Petrakis and the Noble Petrakis Foundation. Ushers walked around the room with wireless microphones looking for individuals with questions.

    The first came from a platinum blond woman in a striking red dress that was more revealing than imaginative. "Madame Petrakis," she spoke with a European accent. "I see in your magazine and in your slides, images of public defacement which many of you would call graffiti. Are you advocating the preservation of such work and support the defacement of public property?" She had a sneer to her last comment and even drew a few whispers of repose.

    Cynthia looked her straight in the eye. "I do not, nor ever will, advocate the destruction of public or private property. I added these images because the minds that created those images had a message reflecting their emotional state, their community or simply expressing their talent. It is the history of the young people, of any era, that must be recognized. Whether or not it may be too urban for some."

    The woman sat down embarrassed. She was an heiress of some rich family in Europe and had the perception of art being only valuable to the selected wealthy of the world. Cynthia purposely shamed her in front of her peers of potential supporters. Again applause rang out and Cynthia scanned the audience when she saw an eager hand shoot up from the side. It was the hand of Channel 6 reporter Samantha Reid. She smiled and acknowledged her. "Miss Reid of Channel 6 News. I want to say thank you to you and your team for covering our event."

    Jerimiah clapped the loudest and again the hall was filled with applause. An usher handed Samantha a wireless microphone and she approached the stage for everyone to get a better view of her and for camera angles for the shoot.

    "Thank you Madame Petrakis for having us here. I have two questions if I may." She paused as Madame Petrakis nodded her head. "I have noticed there are no members of the political arena, city, state or Federal attending tonight's gala. Was this by design? And two, your foundation will have international impact, how will you deal with the different governments, many of them going through their own political strife?"

    Cynthia knew she made the right decision in bring Samantha Reid to the Reopening Gala. For someone to work on the local level, she had the intelligence for a national news network. "Mental note, consider Miss Reid for opportunities in the near future," she thought to herself.

    The voice responded unexpectedly. "Will do!" She was startled at the response since the voice been so quiet during the presentation but decided to turn her attention back to Miss Reid's questions.

    "I purposely did not invite any politicians to this event because many of them would sacrifice creative expression for whatever reason they deem fit. In so doing, they have caused the problems in society to boil and explode. If they are balancing a budget, what is the first to go? Art, music, and other creative activities. This impacts the children first and then people of various ages.

    "The closure of this museum is the proof of that. I will rely solely on the people to keep this museum and make the foundation a permanent fixture in their communities around the world. As for the different governments around the world," she drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "I will appeal the United Nations in their efforts of securing and protecting art in all forms from areas that suppress human initiative to create freely and to express themselves. Too often I have seen many works burned, destroyed or hoarded in private collections through criminal means."

    Silence gripped the hall as Cynthia gripped the edges of the podium. "Look at the foundation as an artistic amnesty for those objects or persons wishing to explore their abilities. It is no different from parents displaying their children's artwork on their office walls with pride. But with a degree of higher stakes."

    "So will you exclude dealing with politics all together?" Samantha asked.

    "With politics, I and my foundation will not have any part. But to deal with government agencies on humanitarian efforts, that will be the open path I will take," she answered honestly and fully. It seemed to answer the question to Samantha's satisfaction as she passed the microphone back to the usher.

    "Madame Petrakis?" Jerimiah raised his hand to be acknowledged.

    "Professor Clarke, your question for the evening."

    "Do you have limitations on grants for archaeological and exploratory research?" he asked with a grin.

    Cynthia face became serious. "Yes. The Foundation will grant scholarships, grants, and other resources for projects as you described. We even will entertain environmental studies. By the way," she held up the foundation publication. "This was printed on hemp based paper, environmentally friendly toner and energy saving printers. I would like to thank Ekon Publishing for providing tonight's programs and other hard copy media."

    Admiration was heard throughout the audience as they examined the publications more closely. "There are legal obligations for applying for grants but to not bore you with the details. Simply put, the foundation must have a detailed plan of action, what the result of the project is to be and the time for completion of the project. The funds from the foundation cannot be used for profit generating activities, legal or illegal, and will not be given out without background checks. You must understand the errors of other charities and foundations were zero accountability. The Noble Petrakis Foundation requires one hundred percent accountability. Otherwise the true meaning is lost."

    She looked at Jerimiah Clarke. "So Professor Clarke, no requests for discovering Atlantis, it was found already and the people inhabiting there hung a do not disturb sign on the front gate." The hall erupted in laughter as Jerimiah smiled and took his seat.

    "I will take two more questions and then I want to conclude tonight's ceremonies with a brief tour of the Metropolitan." She scanned the crowd and found a middle aged white man with balding hair and gold rimmed glasses.

    "Madame, I was looking at the donation section of your brochure and wanted to ask about the donations. Does the foundation accept monetary donations only?"

    "The Foundation," Cynthia started. "Accepts all forms of donations. Money, artwork, materials and even time. If you want to assist the Foundation or any of its subsidiary projects, we will be happy to accept. There is no limit; anyone can donate anything anywhere, hence the website: www.NPFoundation.org. The foundation will not share your information with any other organization and what you give can either be a one-time donation or annually. And yes, each donation, no matter in what form, is tax-deductible!" The tax-deductible comment drew cheers from more of the wealthy guests, hard looks toward them from others.

    "One last question and then we shall have a light dinner and then the tour."

    "Excuse me, Miss Petrakis." A young white male with long dark hair, a rock star sensation, raised his hand and taking the microphone a tad forcefully. "You talked about more of the physical art than you have non-physical work. By that I mean music. What are you doing about preserving music? Will there be a showcase for all forms of music?"

    "A new building has been erected for music history. It is an archive and amphitheater for groups of people to enjoy musical selections of all genres that are featured for the exhibit or to select any the group one wishes to hear. Do most of you here remember music stores in which you can listen to music selections before purchasing the album?" Most of the audience shook their heads with an affirmative nod. "Listening kiosks have been setup within the amphitheater so a patron can browse any music genre they wish. Also, the can plug their own headphones in and browse to their hearts content." She looked at the young man, recognizing him. "And Mr. Heavy Fusion, I loved your last album. With your permission I would like to add it to the museum collection."

    "Righteous!" He yelled as he sat down all smiles.

    She smiled and held up her hand. "And now ladies and gentleman, if would like to-"

    "Madame Petrakis, I would like to ask what treasures from your Greek collection you will be donating to the museum." The inquiry came from an old man in the back of the hall. He was tall with a long graying beard, piercing blue eyes. The man wore a simple long sleeved shirt with slacks of the same color of white. Something about the gentleman rubbed Cynthia the wrong way, something about his eyes. She was more annoyed with the interruption than with the question. The abrupt question drew a few stares from people closest to him. Then Cynthia remembered who the individual was, someone who helped with the restoration of the artwork in the museum. Still she answered with obvious annoyance.

    "Mr. Abraham Cromwell ladies and gentlemen. He and his group from Cromwell Restorations worked tirelessly to restore the countless art pieces in the museum to get them ready for exhibit." People clapped at his contribution and then Cynthia went on. "The collection I have donated will be on display in the Ancient Greek Corridors. It is an assortment of weapons, literature and artifacts from multiple ages. Many are from my personal collection and heirlooms handed down in my family for generations."

    She paused and composed herself. "This is what I am referring to in donating to the foundation and its overall cause. It will be labelled the Petrakis collection. One of many I have premiered around the country and the world in well-established museums."

    Noticing she was now damaging the podium by gripping on the sides to hard, she stepped from behind in and stood in front of the screen with the logo of the Foundation. The old man smiled and returned to his seat in obvious delighted at the news.

    "Now if there are no further questions, I thank you all for coming. In the Gathering Hall we have set out small tables and chairs for a light dinner. This will give us all a chance to enjoy each other's company and twenty minutes later, your exclusive tour will begin." She bowed as everyone stood in an ovation cheering her. She slowly descended the stairs and shook everyone's hand and led them slowly into the Gathering Hall.

    Samantha grabbed the microphone from Estelle and stepped in front of her camera. "This is Samantha Reid. You at home have just seen the exclusive of the evening. Not only the reopening of Metropolitan Museum of Art, but the announcement of the creation of the Noble Petrakis Foundation that will protect artwork from artists around the world. We will now take the private tour of the new exhibits and some old ones from the past, but we are not allowed to bring the cameras on this tour for tonight. However, we are assured we can take the public tour tomorrow with all of you who are eagerly awaiting return the Metropolitan. We will be signing off here from the museum. If there are any new developments, we will bring it to you. This is Samantha Reid, Channel 6 News, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Good night."

    After counting down, Raphael shut down the camera. "This is great! Never thought we would get so much this evening. Estelle, how did they like it back in the studio?"

    Estelle was on the phone with the producers in the station and they were giving her good news. "Excellent, everyone loved the shoot and the producers of the channel did not mind preempting our schedule tonight because we got the highest viewer rating!" Estelle's smile and enthusiasm could not be contained.

    Even Raphael sported a large smile but not for the footage shot for the evening. Pleasant smells of the dinner course offered in the Gathering Hall made Raphael smile and drool again. "I must see a doctor after tonight. I think I am overstimulated!"

    Samantha and Estelle laughed at Raphael as he wiped his lips. With the equipment locked away and secured in a security office, the three from Channel 6 stood facing each other, happier than in weeks of reporting together. "So, back to the buffet tables for round two?" Samantha asked as she had a renewed appetite but soon spied Jerimiah speaking to several people after Madame Petrakis left the hall. "On second thought, I will catch up with you guys when we start the tour."

    Samantha weaved her way through the crowd toward her boyfriend leaving Raphael and Estelle to head for the food. Soon after, she reached Jerimiah as he concluded his conversation with a few philanthropists gathered around him.

    "Did you get any money from them? A few million to work in northern Europe on an excavation?" Samantha said with a smile as she held Jerimiah's hands.

    "A promise to consider my proposals and a call," he said as he leaned in and kissed Samantha lightly on the lips. "They were in awe of Madame Petrakis, as I am. She is such an incredible woman, but there is something more to her I cannot put my finger on."

    "You mean that she is rich, obviously single and gorgeous?" said in a sly tone from Samantha.

    "Really? I have not noticed that she is rich." Jerimiah enjoyed fencing with Samantha even though one wrong word and it would lead to the deadly silent treatment. The last time it was issued, Jerimiah had not heard from Samantha for three weeks, it drove him crazy but it was part of the relationship. He knew deep down he will have to start taking a more serious role in their relationship. All in time, he said to himself.

    "Come on, let's get some food and then enjoy the tour. If you are not busy tonight, I can come by your place."

    Samantha hugged Jerimiah. "That sounds great. I think I will head to the station and then home. You still got the keys right?"

    "Yes, yes I do."

    "Good." The two of them walked hand in hand to the buffet tables past the small circular tables that looked like well styled patio furniture, to join the rest of the crowd, now energized by tonight's speech. This was a spectacular evening, the two of them thought.

    The guests were now occupying the tables and having a social gathering of the elite. Cynthia walked among them to look for the old man that rattled her during the questions. He found her and slowly approached. A waiter walked to Madame Petrakis and Abraham Cromwell with a tray of wine in well-crafted crystal glasses, where they both took one glass. "Mr. Cromwell, you and staff did an excellent job on the exhibits. My compliments."

    Abraham Cromwell smiled. "Thank you Madame Petrakis. I apologize for the abrupt question this evening. I found it an honor to work on such works of art. It was a great thrill and pleasure. The pieces from your private collection interest me. It has been many years since I have seen artifacts like those in your possession. I would like to know how they came into your family's ownership." the old man asked, with a flattering tone. His voice was not so deep but sounded as if he spoke in a purposeful low tone. Obviously not moved by his charm, Cynthia scrutinized the old man.

    "I take it you were looking at the pieces not yet on display from my private collection?" Cynthia folded her arms.

    "Please don't be upset. I peeked and was impressed. In working in different arts centers here and there, I have seen items from your collection on display. Quite impressive," he stated as he took a sip of wine.
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