He was hoping to have a photo of Artemis somewhere in the book, with the idea that it would boost the sales of the book. He had gotten several requests from fans, and so had begun tracking Artemis Fowl wherever he ran. Or was driven.
He focused his attention on adjusting the lens. Fortunately, Artemis had requested a table outside, but absolutely refused to face Colfer for more than a nanosecond. Which, needless to say, is not ample time for even the fastest camera to focus on an object long enough to photograph it. In his mind's eye Artemis was taunting him, purposely staying just out of the frame of focus. And he did it with that wretched calmness he always possessed.
It was times like these, times spent waiting for improbable events to happen so his fans would be happy, that Colfer wondered why he had decided to track the infamous Artemis Fowl. While he couldn't imagine being anything but a writer, this whole story was really taxing him, in both the physical and literal senses. 'Just until you have enough to retire' he often thought to himself. 'Then you can live your life, work on other books, and never, ever worry about foul Fowl ever again.' But it was a lie, and he knew it. His writer's instinct wouldn't allow him to quit in the middle of a series. He would see it through to the end, no matter what the cost might be.
He heard a sudden commotion at the front door of the restaurant, and struggled to see what was happening. He looked just in time to see Artemis and Butler sprinting toward the Bentley. He saw Artemis Fowl's cold, cruel stare in the viewfinder for one second, and froze. He felt nauseous, but pressed the button anyway. It was a digital camera, so Colfer looked at the photo instantly.
Artemis was thanking his Irish lucky stars for Butler. Had the bodyguard not seen the glint of the camera lens (thinking it was a weapon) that belonged to Colfer, his face would have ended up all over the Internet. This was something even he could not afford.
Supposedly. Artemis always had a plan.
He had created a new kind of virus powerful enough to shut down the entire Internet. While mass panic erupted, Artemis would use a tracking program to find and destroy all evidence of himself on every computer linked to the Internet. If anyone tried to re-upload the same information, the virus would eat the file. Of course, he had a password that would easily override it. And it wasn't his birthday or the name of his cat. It was an entirely new language that he had dubbed the Eternity Code. A complex mix of Gnommish and dashed lines, it would fool any code cracker, and certainly any human except himself.
While Butler gripped his hand and took off, Artemis took a second to look in the direction in the glint of light. It had come through a window, and no sooner than he looked had a face appeared. He recognized it instantly, and smiled his vampire-like smile that had frightened many people.
Colfer had half a mind to hire someone to kick him, since he couldn't do it himself. He had just lost his vacation money, and for what? The most expensive blurred photo in history. In spite of this, he admired Artemis's ability to be alert to everything.
Colfer miserably packed up the equipment, all the time remembering that he needed to pay the photographers. He knew the book would sell, even without the picture, but he absolutely hated to disappoint his fans. He tried to console himself with the thought of the Half-Moon Investigations book, and it worked.
Until he got the bill.
His thoughts instantly flew back to the cold stare in Artemis Fowl's eyes, and as he realized he would have to use his credit card, he wondered why the stare always made him so nauseous. He would not realize the answer until much later, when he was getting on a plane back to Ireland.
'There is no uncertainty or fear in those eyes,' he thought. 'No mercy, no weakness. Just cold, sinister determination. No one else has the same stare, except maybe for Fowl senior.'
Suddenly Colfer didn't want an everlasting reminder of Artemis's stare.
Artemis quietly crept toward Eoin Colfer who was sleeping peacefully. It was a bright, sunny day in Nice, (pronounced 'niece', though it is also quite nice) France, where Colfer had decided to take a vacation. The sales from The Eternity Code had given him enough money for a vacation, one that he felt he deserved.
Apparently, Artemis didn't agree. He had already left a not-so-kind postcard for Colfer at the front desk, and since it was equipped with one of Foaly's tiny cameras, he would be able to capture every moment of Colfer's anguish on film.
The young genius gently tapped Colfer on the shoulder, abruptly waking him from his slumber. The author stared straight into Artemis's eyes, eyes sparking with the thrill of a plot set into motion.
"A pity you don't have your camera, Mr. Colfer," he said fiendishly, turning and exiting the room. Colfer leapt to his feet, taking about five seconds to grab his disposable camera. Quantity over quality here. He ran after Artemis, who was actually faster than he looked. Just as Colfer reached the front entrance of the hotel, he saw Artemis nonchalantly stepping inside the Bentley. Colfer looked around frantically for any mode of transportation, but saw nothing and continued to run. He kept on running for another mile.
Realizing he was getting nowhere, Colfer slowly walked back to his hotel, seething with rage. 'That was by far the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. Never again, Colfer. Never again.' He reached the hotel in about fifteen minutes. He passed by the front desk, eager to get back to his room and forget about a certain Irish criminal mastermind, when the receptionist called his name.
"Mr. Eoin Colfer?" she said sweetly. He walked over, trying not to seem too angry.
"You have a message from mister- excuse me, Master Artemis Fowl the second." This was an all too familiar reminder of Artemis's status. The genius would never forget to leave that out. Colfer grudgingly accepted the postcard. On the front was a fine photograph of Fowl Manor, gray concrete and marble set against an equally gray sky, set off by the emerald hills of his homeland. He turned the card over, reading the words slowly and painfully. The words were written in Artemis's flowing cursive script.
If I can't have privacy, then neither can you.
It was about that time that Eoin Colfer's right eye started twitching. And twenty miles away, watching with a cold glass of Irish spring water in his hand, Artemis Fowl the second caught the whole thing on video.