The Silver Strand Legacy, page 25
part #1 of Eritis Trilogy Series
Doc was standing close to his assigned seat, watching for Renard. But as his gaze swept across the ballroom, he caught sight of a security guard furtively eyeballing him. He decided it was probably a good idea to mingle with the crowd. He stood out a bit on his own, not talking to anyone.
That was when Da Costa approached him, casually holding a tray of champagne flutes. Doc looked at the tray and pretended to hesitate.
“She’s here,” Da Costa whispered.
Doc glanced over his comrade’s shoulder. “I see her. Get into position.”
“One more thing. I noticed a waiter watching you a bit too … insistently.”
Doc frowned. “Which one?”
Da Costa gave a discreet nod behind him and to the left. “The tall guy near the long table.”
“I see him,” said Doc, looking slightly troubled.
Da Costa studied him. “Something else bothering you?”
“I think one of the guards has been keeping an eye on me too.”
“Do you think you’ve been made?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Uh-oh,” a voice interrupted over their earpiece.
“What is it, Soran?” Doc asked.
“Jenkins’ men are among the security staff.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“Yep, I recognized one of them. If they know you … Jenkins could be on his way already. We need to hurry, guys.”
“Rock, Ashrem, are you getting this?” Doc asked over the com line.
“Yeah,” Rock replied. “We’re all set down here. Just say the word.”
“Good. We’ll proceed as planned. But first, Da Costa and I need to take care of a little problem. We’ll let you know as soon as it’s done. Get ready, everyone!”
Marie had gotten out of the black sedan and was squinting hard at something. She wasn’t looking in the direction of the hotel, but rather down the street, on the other side of the large intersection.
Depending on the time of year, certain areas of Paris can seem eerily deserted late at night. The district of la Défense in particular, which is a business district comprised mainly of high-rise offices and a shopping center, typically appears devoid of inhabitants at this hour. Also, the police had erected roadblocks and diverted traffic away because of the reception. As a result, all the activity in the area seemed to be concentrated in a small radius around the hotel and could be attributed to the professional drivers waiting for their VIP passengers, the press members who had come to cover the event, and the police patrols. Everything else was dark and quiet.
Hans left the vehicle and walked over to his partner. “What are you looking at?”
She didn’t reply but instead kept staring ahead, probing the shadows.
“What?” he pressed.
“In there!” she said. “I think I saw someone.”
Hans leaned to the side and tilted his head to follow her line of sight. “Are you talking about the jewelry store at the end? I don’t see any—” He stopped short. He too had just spotted something move inside the store. “Oh, you can’t be serious,” he lamented. “A robbery? Now we have to do something about it.”
“We can’t draw any attention to ourselves,” Marie reminded him.
“I know, I know,” he said as he walked back to the car. “I have a burner phone inside the glove box. I’ll send an anonymous tip to the police. They’re already here anyway. If it is a robbery, those guys certainly picked the wrong day for it.”
He mumbled more complaints as he opened the car door, but Marie wasn’t listening. She was deep in thought, with her eyes glued to the store.
Hans was right. This clearly was the wrong time and place for a robbery, a fact which should have been obvious to anyone. And yet …
All of a sudden, Marie whipped her head around and gestured for her partner to stop dialing. “Hold on, Hans!”
“Don’t worry,” he shouted back from the car. “Nobody will trace it back to us.”
“No, no, leave it,” she insisted.
He looked up at her, hesitant.
“Préfecture de police, bonsoir,” a voice answered at the other end of the line.
Hans gazed at his phone a moment and then hung up.
He exited the vehicle and walked back to his partner. “All right, you mind telling me why we’re not alerting the police to a possible robbery in progress?”
“You said it yourself. Who would be stupid enough to rob this store, at this time?”
He shrugged. “I know. It’s strange.”
“It’s more than strange. They’re hosting a reception for government officials and big-shot CEOs in there. The hotel is crawling with security, and like you said, the police are already on site.”
He gave her a sharp look. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking maybe there’s more to it. Maybe, whatever’s going on in there is connected to the event in the hotel. Right now, we’ve got no clues. All I know is that Nathalie Renard is probably involved with the people responsible for Schmidt’s murder. So I’m thinking maybe we should let this thing play out a little and see what happens. At the very least, it could give us a chance to get close to her.”
Hans was not at all comfortable with her suggestion. “Even if you’re right,” he said, “it’s still risky.”
“I know. Look, if it comes down to it, we’ll alert the police ourselves. They’re right there.”
He paused a long while. Then, without a word, he returned to the car.
Marie followed after him and slipped back into her seat. “Thanks, Hans.”
“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I.”
Back inside the hotel, Doc had managed to lure the security guard who had been keeping tabs on him away from prying eyes. Pretending to admire the lavish decoration as he wandered around, he ventured outside the restricted zone and disappeared behind a staircase door.
Having lost sight of Doc, the guard hurried through the door after him.
But the urge to reacquire his target had made the security guard grow careless. As he rushed up the stairs, his jaw had an unfortunate encounter with a perfectly timed high kick, which knocked him out cold and sent him tumbling down the steps.
Doc quickly climbed down after his victim and sifted through his pockets. He couldn’t find anything to suggest the guard was anything other than a member of hotel security.
He carried the unconscious man into a staff-only area, tied him up, covered his mouth with a small towel, and hid him inside a closet. Once he was satisfied the package was secured, Doc returned to the reception and began scanning the room.
“Da Costa! Where are you?”
“On my way, Doc.”
“And the waiter who was watching me?”
“I convinced him to take the rest of the night off.” Da Costa glanced back into the storage room to make sure no part of the man he had choked to sleep could be seen protruding from behind the boxes where he’d hidden him. “I’ll be up there in a second.”
Moments later, Doc could once again see his companion holding his tray of champagne flutes. “All right, Soran, we’re on! It won’t be long before someone starts to wonder where the guard or the waiter went.”
“I’m all set. Just tell me when to send the text.”
Having received the go-ahead nod from Doc, Da Costa meandered through the crowd, seemingly moving at random but all the while getting closer to Renard. After a few stops and turns, the pretend waiter had finally managed to maneuver himself close to his mark. He was about to offer her a drink when the sound of an alarm bell, quickly followed by a gunshot, reverberated throughout the hall.
The guests looked around uncomprehendingly.
But the security teams reacted quickly. They jarred Da Costa and the other waiters away from the VIPs and formed a protective barrier around them.
Another detonation resounded inside the hotel lobby.
The security teams wasted no time moving the more important personalities to their assigned safety areas. In the case of Nathalie Renard, it meant escorting her back to her suite.
“What’s going on?” Rock shouted over the com line.
“I don’t know,” Doc replied. “Soran, do you see anything out there?”
“Give me a minute.”
“What the hell happened?” the man shouted at his three accomplices.
“I don’t know.”
“Which one of you idiots shot at the police?”
“No one, it wasn’t us.”
“Who was it, then?”
The four men inside the jewelry store rushed to the windows to find out where the shots had come from. But all they saw was a swarm of police officers—most of them in civilian clothing—moving to surround the store. A horde of security agents also poured out from the hotel and came to swell the police’s ranks.
The press, which had been camped out in front of the hotel, cautiously moved closer as well, cameras aimed and running. This forced the police to divert some of their resources to protect a few reckless news anchors who were putting their safety at risk for a scoop.
“We’re gonna need help getting out of this one,” said the leader of the robbers. “I gotta let the boss know.” He took out his cell phone and dialed quickly.
Craig Thompson was waiting by the window of his penthouse apartment, a glass of scotch in his hand, when his phone rang. He promptly answered it. “Is it done?”
“Boss, we have a problem.”
“Hmm?”
“The cops are all over us. We’re still inside the store, but the place is completely surrounded. There’s no way out.”
“Surrounded? What happened?”
“I don’t know, boss. The alarm went off.”
“You morons tripped the alarm?”
“No, it wasn’t us,” the man protested. “We did everything exactly like the gray-haired man told us, same as the other two jobs we pulled earlier today. I don’t understand why the alarm went off. Next thing I know, someone’s shooting at the cops.”
Thompson’s voice burst through the receiver. “You opened fire on the police?”
“No, no. I’m saying it wasn’t us.”
Bang!
Another shot went off, shattering the windshield of a car, and causing the police to halt their advance.
“Who the hell is doing this?” the leader of the robbers shouted nervously.
But neither he nor his men had time to dwell on the question. All four of them hit the deck as a storm of bullets tore through the store.
Due to the presence of so many important personalities nearby, the police had opted to retaliate in a decisive manner.
“Josh?” Thompson shouted on the phone. “You still there? Answer me!”
No reply came.
Josh had dropped the phone among the fragments of marble and glass. He and his accomplices had been left with no choice other than to scramble for cover and return fire.
Pandemonium now reigned inside the hotel lobby as confusion grew among the guests and the staff. Taking advantage of the turmoil, Doc tried to stay close to Renard as her security detail whisked her away to safety. But he was only able to get as far as the elevators, at which point her bodyguards barred everyone from riding with them.
Da Costa joined up with him as the lift doors closed. “What now?”
“I don’t know,” Doc replied. “Soran, talk to us.”
“It looks like some geniuses decided it was a good idea to break into one of the stores down the street,” Soran replied over the com.
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” Rock exclaimed.
“Soran …” said Ashrem.
“Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”
“Anything the rest of us need to know?” Doc asked.
“There’s a good chance Damien’s behind this,” Ashrem declared.
“Damien? How do you know?” Rock asked.
“No time to explain,” said Soran. “You guys need to bolt.”
“Indeed,” Ashrem agreed. “If it is in fact Damien’s doing, whatever happens next, we’re not going to like it.”
“Uh, guys. You need to go,” Soran urged. “And I mean now!”
“Calm down!” said Rock. “We heard you the first time.”
“You don’t understand. I just spotted Jenkins entering the hotel.”
“Argh, crap!” Rock exclaimed.
“He got here pretty quickly,” Doc thought aloud.
“He must have been waiting close by,” said Soran.
“Are you saying he set a trap for us?” Doc asked.
“I doubt it,” said Ashrem. “I think he was waiting for Damien’s group. Either way, every exit will be blocked soon. If not for the trouble outside, we would probably be surrounded already. Jenkins must have rushed in here because of the shooting. Like us, he must suspect it’s not a coincidence.”
“All right, we’re aborting the mission,” Doc declared. “Rock, Ashrem, try to get back down to the parking garage and leave from there. Da Costa and I will find another way out.”
“Roger!” Rock acknowledged.
As Doc stepped out of the elevator lounge, Da Costa held him back and pulled him behind one of the tall plants decorating the corners.
“Jenkins,” Da Costa said, nodding towards the concierge desk.
Aside from Kincade, none of the mercenaries had seen Jenkins in person, but they could easily recognize him from the photograph Lucielle had shown them.
“We should try to sneak out through the kitchen,” Da Costa suggested.
Doc nodded. “I guess it’s our only option. Most of the security personnel seem to have redeployed around the VIPs, or outside, to deal with the robbery situation. There shouldn’t be too many of them guarding the back entrance right now. Let’s hurry, before they have time to re-organize themselves.”
Blending into the hectic crowd, Doc and Da Costa managed to make it to the kitchen unnoticed. As they passed through the doors, Doc sneaked a peek back inside the lobby.
Jenkins was barking instructions at everyone indiscriminately, but the various groups lacked coordination. The head of hotel security didn’t look too pleased about having to take orders from an outsider, and neither did his men.
Doc heard Jenkins ask for Renard’s whereabouts. The head of hotel security gave a reluctant yet lengthy answer and motioned upwards.
Without waiting for the end of the explanation, Jenkins darted towards the elevator accompanied by a horde of agents.
They don’t seem to be getting along too well, Doc thought. That’s good for us. He and Da Costa rushed across the kitchen, shoving aside a row of cooks and waiters along the way. But as they neared the back exit, a brawny bearded guard appeared from the other side.
Alerted by the racket inside the kitchen, the guard had left his post to come see what was going on.
He immediately spotted the two men running straight at him.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the guard reached for his gun.
Doc didn’t hesitate either. In one quick burst, he propelled himself to within striking distance of the bearded man and knocked his weapon away with a lightning-fast kick.
Unfazed by his opponent’s skill, the guard immediately threw a punch. Doc dodged to the side and followed with a counter-punch. His fist landed on the guard’s nose and destabilized him long enough for Doc to set up a roundhouse kick to the temple. The heavy-looking man crumpled to the floor with a thump.
At that moment, another sentry came in. He had been wondering what was taking his colleague so long.
The second guard briefly froze when he saw the man lying face down on the floor, but then he quickly reached for his two-way radio.
He was about to call for back-up when he heard a clank coming from his left. He turned to look.
Da Costa pounced from behind a tall rack and swung a heavy frying pan at the guard’s head.
There were now two black-suited men lying side-by-side on the floor.
All the while, the kitchen staff had been watching incredulously.
“Who are you?” the head chef bellowed.
In place of an answer, Da Costa pulled out his gun and waved it at the kitchen staff. “Toss me your phones and get in there!” he commanded, pointing to a metal door.
Frightened, the staff followed his orders without protest. Doc instructed four of them to carry the unconscious men in with them as they were funneled into a large storage room.
Once everyone was inside, Doc bolted the door shut. “Come on, let’s get outta here,” he told his companion.
The two men rushed toward the exit.
Just as they had hoped, there was no one else waiting outside—the two sentries had been the only ones posted at the kitchen entrance. Even the media vans were no longer amassed on this side of the hotel. They had all moved around to cover the attempted heist.
But as Doc and Da Costa stepped out onto the side street, they were forced back inside by a silent barrage of bullets. Luckily, they had reacted in time to avoid getting hit after they had spotted the masked men at the windows, high up in the office building across the street.
The two mercenaries were standing inside the kitchen again. They were a little shaken at first, but it wasn’t the first time someone had taken a shot at them. They steadied their nerves and analyzed the situation.
“Did you get a good look at them?” Doc asked.
“No,” said Da Costa, “but I’m pretty sure they’re not cops … or hotel security.”
“Agreed,” said Doc. “Or they wouldn’t be using silencers. Looks like whoever they are, they don’t want to attract attention either.”
“Looks like.”
Doc got on the com line. “Soran! Do you read me?”
“Yeah, are you out yet?”
“No. We ran into a problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“The kind where snipers take shots at us from across the street.”
“Oh …!” the young man replied.
“Oh is right. We need you to come and pick us up in a hurry.”
“Got it. Hang tight. I’m on my way.”
Doc and Da Costa ran a quick check on their ammo and took positions on either side of the door. Up until now, the firefight between the robbers and the police had provided a convenient distraction. And the earlier ruckus inside the kitchen had been covered by the tumult in the lobby and the on-going alarm outside. But eventually, someone was bound to show up in the kitchen. They needed to determine whether it would be possible to shoot their way out, should the need arise.
