Wanted (Leopold Blake Series)

  Just a little further, he willed his target to take a few steps forward, away from the steel railings that blocked a clear shot to her chest. Reiniger briefly considered switching positions to get a better angle before noticing the woman was looking straight at him. His eyes seemed to meet hers. The assassin’s finger brushed against the trigger, ready to fire. His pulse quickened, momentarily.

  A gust of cool air whipped past his head, ruffling his hair and whistling through his ears. The wind speed felt like at least twelve knots, which meant a head shot was out of the question. She would have to venture away from the relative safety of the taxi shelter to allow a clear shot to the torso.

  Just a little further.

  Through the scope, Reiniger watched a bus pull up, blocking his view. He saw the doors slide open and a rabble of elderly holidaymakers pour out onto the asphalt, dragging their hand luggage behind them. The driver rushed ahead, pulling open the baggage compartments at the side, heaving suitcases out on to the forecourt.

  The assassin swore, his profanities lost in the wind. Earlier in the week he had spent the best part of a day staking out the airport’s numerous pick up zones, and not once had a tour bus ventured anywhere near. This particular driver must have gotten lost somewhere in the maze of one way systems and given up, presumably eager to unload and move on to the next job.

  Goddamn amateurs.

  A moment later his suspicions were confirmed as he saw an irate airport official march toward the huddle of pensioners with a walkie-talkie pressed to his lips. He and the bus driver proceeded to argue, their arms flailing. The assassin couldn’t tell what they were saying, but the body language was universal and neither seemed in any rush to back down.

  Unexpected wind speed. Unexpected obstacles. A forecourt full of witnesses. If Reiniger had learned anything from his long and brutal career, it was that uncertainty leads to mistakes. And mistakes lead to getting caught. Or killed. More often than not, a simple twist of fate could make all the difference between a successful job and a botched one, and this was one mission that had to go off without a hitch.

  Frowning, the assassin adjusted the lens and zoomed in, right up to the maximum possible setting. Through the bus’ windows, he could still make out his target; she was on the move, heading straight for the line of waiting taxis. He watched her pull her police badge from her pocket and wave it in front of her as she walked, mouthing something he couldn’t make out. The line of people moved out of her way as she made a bee line for the nearest cab. He made a mental note of the license plate as she climbed inside.

  Taking his eye from the scope, Reiniger took a moment to consider his options. This was not necessarily a reason to abort. He knew where the target was headed, and could make a pretty good idea what she would do once she found out why her ride hadn’t showed. There was only one building in Paris where she would go and Reiniger already knew the layout. It would be simple enough to wait for her to come to him. Instead of risking a tricky shot from long range, he now had the opportunity to indulge in a more intimate approach, something up close and personal.

  Yes, this could work out very well indeed.

  With excitement welling up inside him, Reiniger quickly disassembled the rifle and packed it back into the carry case. Pulling out the KA-BAR knife, he checked the edge against his thumb and suppressed a grin.

  Very well indeed.

  FIFTEEN

   

  “How much longer?”

  Leopold had resisted the urge to shout for the guards, but Sophie’s tireless questioning was beginning to grate. For the last few hours, he and Jerome had been locked in a holding cell and after almost thirty minutes of arguing, Sophie had convinced Captain Rousseau to let her sit with them. Leopold was regretting that decision already. She was now sat on a wooden stool, watching the two men through the steel bars that separated her from the tiny cell. Jerome lay serenely on the bed, while Leopold paced the floor in irritation.

  “We’ll be in here until they can move us over to the main prison,” he said. “Which should be in the next couple of hours. Only a judge can grant us bail at this point, and I doubt Rousseau’s in any hurry to get the paperwork done.”

  “I thought you had connections?” said Sophie. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”

  “My lawyer can suppress anything said during the interview, up until the point where Rousseau officially arrested us. Like he said, I’ve got a right to a lawyer, but I can’t force them to rush the process. They haven’t even given me a phone call yet.”

  “Okay, okay, don’t get upset. I can make a call for you, as soon as I go back outside. What do I tell your lawyer?”

  “You tell them to send someone down here immediately. Call Cotty, Vivant, Marchisio & Lauzeral – tell them I’ll only need them to handle the transfer. I’ll get my usual defense attorney on an airplane when I get a chance, and he can handle the difficult stuff.”

  “Why did they charge you with conspiracy to murder?” she asked.

  Leopold smiled. “It’s a fallback position for the prosecutor. Believe me, whoever planted that evidence at the scene isn’t going to keep me off the streets for long. You can count on it.”

   “Still, until then you’re stuck in here. I believed you when you said you had nothing to do with Jean, but… Je ne sais pas, I don’t know.”

  “What is it?” Leopold looked at Sophie. For the first time, he sensed something else underneath her cool exterior. Fear.

  “Someone planned this. If Jean was mixed up in all this, now I am too. God only knows what they have planned for me.”

  “But that doesn’t –”

  “You have to get out of here,” she grabbed hold of the steel bars with both hands. “Do whatever it takes. They’ve killed people already, they won’t think twice about coming after me. Who’s to say they aren’t already waiting outside? Or at my apartment? I can’t survive without help.”

  He held her gaze. “I’ll be in here a couple of days, that’s all. Is there somewhere you can go?”

  “They’ll send people after me, don’t you see? What kind of chance do I have? There must be something you can do.”

  “Mary.” Jerome sat up. “Mary was due to land an hour ago. You were supposed to pick her up. If Mlle. Bardot is right, she could be in danger too.”

  “Sophie, I need you to call someone for me,” said Leopold. “A friend of mine called Mary Jordan. She’s a cop.”

  “And what about me? What am I supposed to do?”

  “She can help.”

  “Fine. Give me the number.”

  Leopold recited the number from memory. Sophie nodded and made her way to the exit. She knocked on the door and the guard let her through.

  “I suppose you’ve got a plan,” said Leopold, turning to face Jerome.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said, lying back on the mattress. “Worry about the guys that did this to us.”

  “And if we can’t find Mary?”

  The bodyguard smiled. “Then we’re going to have to get out of here a hell of a lot sooner than we planned.”

  SIXTEEN

   

  “He’s been what?” Sat in the back of the taxi, Mary pressed her cell phone to her ear and tried to concentrate.

  “Ma’am, I checked the report myself.”

  “Call me ma’am again and you’ll be sorry, Detective,” replied Mary.

  “Sorry m – I mean, sorry, Sergeant Jordan.”

   “Read it out for me again. Your signal’s breaking up a little.”

  “Yeah, sure. I ran Blake’s name through the Interpol database over here in New York. I got quite a few hits, but the one that stood out was an arrest registered today, just a few hours ago. In Paris, France.”

  Mary sighed. “I was afraid I’d heard you right the first time. Where’s he being held?”

  “Gimme a minute.”

  The taxi sped up a little and Mary turned to look out the back window. She spotted a black VW Passat just t
wo vehicles behind her, keeping its distance. The car had followed them ever since they left the airport.

  “You still there?”

  Mary snapped out of her thoughts. “Yeah, what you got for me?”

  “He’s being held at…” the detective paused. “Erm, the Commisariat Central police headquarters just a little south of the river. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Thanks. Listen, can you do me one more favor?”

  “Whatever you need.”

  “Can you run me a license plate?” She turned to look out the rear window again. “Keep it quiet, though. I just need to check something out.”

  “No problem, Sarge.”

  “Thanks, I owe you one. Can you run it now?”

  “Yeah, shouldn’t take a minute. What’s the number?”

  “Hang on.” She leaned forward to speak to the taxi driver. “Hey, you speak English?”

  The cabbie grunted. “Un peu.”

  “I need you to move into the other lane.”

  “Porquoi? Why? This is the fastest lane.”

  “Just do it.”

  The driver muttered something incomprehensible and moved over, letting the traffic stream ahead on the left. The black VW cruised past and Mary read out the license plate.

  “Okay, got it,” said the detective. “Anything else?”

  “No that’s it; just run the number for me.”

  “Sure. Just let me put you on hold a few minutes.”

  “No, don’t put –” she began, but the Muzak had already started. Switching the headset into speaker mode, she dropped the phone on to her lap and tried to think about something else.

  This was Mary’s first vacation in years, but it was already starting to feel like just another day in the office. And not a good day, either. On reflection, she was beginning to regret getting out of bed already.

  SEVENTEEN

   

  “I couldn’t get through,” said Sophie, walking back into the holding room. “I’m sorry. Her phone is either turned off, or she’s using it. I tried calling a few times, but no luck.” She sat back down on the stool.

  “She might be trying to track us down,” said Leopold.

  “Or someone got to her already,” said Jerome, getting to his feet. “And unless you’ve got a genetically engineered clone running around shooting people, somebody’s gone to a great deal of trouble to make sure you wound up in jail tonight. The only chance you got of getting out of here early was if Mary pulled some strings with the local P.D. and got you a bail hearing. You think whoever’s behind this is going to take that chance? We need to make a move. Now.”

  Sophie fidgeted and looked toward the door. “And how do you expect to get out of here?”

  “Leave that to us,” said Jerome.

  “Sophie, we’ll need your help,” said Leopold.

  “Me?”

  “It’s the only way we’re going to pull this off. Otherwise, they ship us off to the prison and God only knows what could be waiting for us there.”

  Sophie sighed. “What do I have to do?”

  Leopold leaned in closer. “Make enough noise to get those three guards in here, and we’ll do the rest.”

  “Make enough noise?”

  “You’ll know what I mean when it’s time.” He turned back to Jerome. “You ready?”

  “Ready.” Jerome smiled and shoved both his giant hands into Leopold’s chest, throwing him against the steel bars. As the consultant crumpled to the floor, Jerome grabbed his collar and threw him onto the bed.

  “This would be the part where you make a little noise, if you wouldn’t mind?” said Jerome, wrapping both hands around Leopold’s neck. “As much as I’m enjoying myself, I don’t think he’s going to last long.”

  “You’re hurting him!”

  “It needs to look authentic for the cameras. Just make some noise.”

  “Okay, okay.” Sophie took a deep breath and let out a scream.

  After five long seconds, the holding room door burst open and three guards stormed inside, shoving Sophie out of the way. The shortest of the officers fumbled with a set of keys before finally wrenching the metal gate open, sliding the bars to the side.

  “Arretez!” he shouted, raising his baton above his head as he and the others stepped into the cell.

  Jerome shook Leopold violently and drew back his fist. The three guards panicked and rushed forward, the shorter one grabbing hold of the bodyguard’s thick forearm while the others stood ready at the rear.

  Jerome moved fast, kicking the shorter man in the stomach and wrenching the baton from his hand. The guard sailed backward into one of his companions, sending them both tumbling to the ground. The remaining officer froze, clearly unsure of how to react without his partners backing him up. Without waiting for an invitation, Jerome stepped forward and landed a roundhouse punch to the guard’s jaw, knocking him down with an unceremonious grunt.

  “Move, now!” said Jerome, stepping over the pile of incapacitated police officers.

  “Quick, this way.” Sophie waved them forward, holding the door open.

  “We’ve got less than thirty seconds before they figure out what’s happened and sound the alarm. You get the keys?”

  Leopold nodded, unhooking a keychain from one of the guard’s belts. “We’d better hope one of these works.”

  “No time for second thoughts now,” said Jerome, stepping through into the corridor. “Twenty-five seconds. Keep up.”

  The trio bounded down the hallway toward the door at the end and Leopold fumbled at the handle. Locked. He fished out the key ring and stared blankly at the dozen metal keys before giving up and selecting one at random.

  “Fifteen seconds,” said Jerome.

  “Okay, okay, I get it. Just let me try this one.” The key didn’t even fit in the hole. He tried another. “No good. Hang on.”

  “Ten seconds.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” He rattled a third key without success. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Five.”

  “Hang on…”

  “Four.”

  “This one’s going to work…”

  “Three, two…”

  “Okay, maybe the next –”

  “One.”

  “Oh mon Dieu, just give them to me,” said Sophie. She slipped one of the keys into the lock and twisted. The door opened with a satisfying clunk. “After you, gentlemen.”

  “That was the one I was going for next,” muttered Leopold. As he stepped through, the piercing sound of alarm bells filled the corridor.

  “Looks like the security boys have finally caught up,” said Jerome, breaking into a jog. “Follow me.”

  The bodyguard led them down the hallway, toward the exit doors at the far end. “The doors out to the street will be sealed by now,” he said. “If we can make it to the roof, there’s a chance we can find a way onto the next building. Or maybe a fire escape.”

  “What did he just say?” asked Sophie, quickening her pace. “The roof?”

  “If you’ve got any better ideas, now’s the time.” Jerome reached the exit and burst through without breaking his stride.

  Two police officers rounded the corner ahead and barreled towards them, batons raised. Jerome lowered his shoulders, just as the officer in front drew back his weapon. Grabbing the man’s forearm, he pivoted and threw the policeman over his shoulder, thrusting out his elbow and catching the other officer in the temple, toppling him to the ground. He snatched both officers’ radios and tossed them into a garbage can.

  “Are you done showing off?” said Leopold. “We need to get to the roof before this whole place is swarming.”

  “How do you know where we’re going?” asked Sophie. “What are we looking for?”

  “It’s a combination of brains and luck,” said Leopold. “And the fact that the stairwell is clearly marked probably helps, too.” He pointed to a sign at the end of the hallway. “Keep moving.”

  The next door opened
out into a junction, connecting several corridors into a central T-junction. Glancing around, Leopold spotted the stairs that led up to the roof. A metal bar across the front instead of a handle was marked Pousser Pour Ouvrir.

  “Wait,” said Jerome. “If the door’s alarmed, they’ll know where we’re headed.”

  “We don’t have a choice,” said Leopold. “If we spend any more time looking for another way up, they’ll overwhelm us.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to matter much soon,” said Sophie. “Listen.”

  Leopold heard heavy footsteps approaching from somewhere along one of the corridors.

  “Sounds like we’ve got company,” said Jerome. “You ready to move?”

  They both nodded.

  “Then go. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”

  “You’ll what?” said Leopold.

  “The only way you’re walking away from this is if I can buy you some time. I can hold them off while you make it onto the roof. Hopefully, I’ll be able to stay on my feet long enough for you to find a way out of here.”

  “You’ll be outnumbered.”

  “Won’t be the first time.”

  “You’ve never had to deal with a building full of pissed-off cops before.”

  “I’ll be waiting for them in the stairwell. Their numbers won’t count for much if they’ve got to come at me one by one.” He fixed his gaze on Leopold. “You have to go. Now. It’s the only way.”

  Somewhere ahead, the sound of footsteps grew louder.

  “You have to come with us.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation. You need to figure out what’s going on, otherwise, we’re both going down. Permanently.”

  Leopold saw the intensity in Jerome’s eyes and realized the futility of arguing. “Whoever’s behind this will have people waiting at the prison, you know that.”

  “Let me worry about that. I can look after myself.”

  “I know. Just make sure you don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

  “Too late for that.” Jerome smiled. “I agreed to take this trip, didn’t I?”

  Leopold managed a weak grin in reply. He grabbed hold of Sophie’s wrist once again and shoved the door open, setting off another alarm just as a stream of uniformed police officers charged around the corner.