Читать книгу Against the Wall - Lyn Stone - Страница 11

Though he knew Holly and Solange were right, Jack hadn’t conceded yet. He finished jotting down the brief report on his time at Baumettes for the record, then got up to pace out the kinks he had acquired from riding in the cramped vehicle for so many miles.

“You’ve had a couple of weeks to delve into Chari’s history, Holly. Anything new?” he asked.

“Some,” she answered, sitting down at one of the laptops and pulling up a file. “He’s made three visits to his relatives in Iran. Last one was three years ago. That’s confirmed. The first film he made had to do with the political unrest in the area. Went all the way back to the expulsion of the shah. Even if it had been well-done—which it wasn’t—he rode the big wave too late. People everywhere were up to here with that stuff in the news.”

“He got into the movie business through his wife, didn’t he?” Jack said.

“Yep. She had a pretty good career going when they married, and got him on the film crew of her last picture. When it was winding down, she got pregnant. She was diabetic. After René’s birth, her health went downhill fast and she died. With what she left him, Chari decided to finance his own effort. He parked the kid with her parents here in Tournade. It took him about six years to get the picture together. When it tanked, he was out of money.”

“What then?”

Holly sighed. “Well, he borrowed from his in-laws, tried a couple of get-rich-quick schemes, both legit. Nothing wildly successful but he made enough to back another small production. An artsy film. Trust me, this guy has truly weird tastes in entertainment. And a humongous ego.”

“That film flopped, too,” Jack guessed.

“It got laughs. Most were directed at him. In the four years since, he’s kept a low profile. Lived in Paris awhile. Made a couple more trips to Tehran. Soon as his in-laws died, he came back here. His son inherited the house, so Chari couldn’t sell it. Can’t touch René’s trust fund, either.”

“Unless the boy dies,” Jack said, not liking that possibility at all. What if Chari had no fatherly affection at all? What if he had wanted René to stay in prison where his life would be at risk? “Did you find out if the robbery that sent the boy to Baumettes was a setup?”

“On the surface it appears he was just caught up in bad company. Maybe didn’t know what was going down until he was right in the middle of it.” She sighed. “No priors on him. No trouble at his schools.”

“How long has Chari had all that dubious company out at the farm?”

“That’s the problem. We don’t know. There was that anonymous phone call to the security minister’s office almost a month ago. We were brought in a few days later.”

“Because he made two trips to the States last year,” Jack said.

“To New York,” Holly verified, “where he met with some very shady dudes our guys were keeping an eye on.”

Jack nodded. He had that information already. “Okay. Fill me in on personality. I don’t need the minute details you uncovered. I just need to know what he’s like. What drives him.”

Her lips turned up in a wry twist. “My guess would be he’s sociopathic.”

“Gee whiz, Holly. No wonder they pay you the big money. Seriously now.”

She tapped the keyboard idly with one finger, but she wasn’t even looking at the screen. No file on this, Jack realized. All of it was in Holly’s head. This was where she took all facts gleaned from known actions, did her magic and constructed a profile. Her accuracy was legendary.

“He’s smart and knows it, feels vastly superior to everyone else. But he lacks identity. I’m a product of two cultures myself, and Chari’s two are even more diverse than mine, so I can see where he’s coming from. He craves success and recognition and will do anything to get the validation he needs. I mean, anything.”

“But why this?” Solange asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “Only to finance a film? This is madness. His reasons are so…so trivial!”

“Not trivial to him,” Holly explained. Her gaze met Jack’s. “He has to have a vast amount of money and he chose a certain way to get it. My guess is he plans something spectacular, a big-budget thing. We’re talking a Braveheart epic or Dances With Wolves. He’s going for the gold and I don’t mean just in his bank account. He’ll want some gilded statues out of this. A name that will go down in history like Gibson or Costner. Wouldn’t surprise me much if he played a role himself the way they did. He’s got the looks. Probably not the talent to match, but I’m sure he’ll think he does.”

“But a movie?” Jack asked with a huff of disbelief that echoed Solange’s. “That’s just crazy.”

“Well, what’s he gonna do to get world recognition, huh? He can’t very well brag about snuffing a portion of the population with poison. He’s merely providing a product that will gain him millions in ready cash to support what he really feels compelled to do.”

Solange butted in. “Yes, but could he also desire a bit of revenge on the public who has not accepted him as he believes they should have done before?”

Holly nodded. “Very astute, Doctor. It could well be that that’s part of his overall plan. This guy’s extremely dangerous. He has no conscience. The laws do not apply to him, and he feels invincible.”

“Then we’ll just have to show him the light,” Jack said. He turned to Solange. “Heard enough? You see now why I want to leave you here?”

“I’m going. We have to stop this madman.”

“The plan’s in place, Jack,” Holly said, agreeing that Solange was needed. “She’s necessary.”

He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. “I’m getting really bad vibes.”

“Vibes?” Solange asked. “What does this mean?”

Jack shrugged off the question, warning Holly with a look not to launch into any explanations right now. There wasn’t time to explain fully, and even if they did, Solange could hardly be expected to give it much credit.

He had always experienced these feelings. That’s all they were. Nothing concrete, certainly not in the category of telepathy or prescience, but they were fairly dependable. Nerves of steel and uncluttered confidence going into a mission meant success, a walk in the park. This jittery anything-that-can-go-wrong-will state of mind meant trouble. Unlike his paltry talent, Joe and Eric had the definitive visions. “What does Eric say?”

“He says he sees food. Good food. And he smells cigar smoke. This is all in the present, remember? He’s tuned in on Chari.”

“Joe pick up any future images at all?”

“Only one. You, all smiles. And all wet.”

“Wet? What does that mean?” he asked, realizing he had repeated Solange’s earlier question.

“Your hair and face are wet. And you look happy.”

Solange glanced from one to the other, frowning.

Holly grinned and reached over to pinch his shoulder. “Want me to practice my Vulcan mind-meld, Captain Kirk?”

“Spare me,” Jack said with a short laugh. “My mind’s screwed up enough right now.”

“Can’t afford that,” Holly said with a sigh. “I know I’ve been preaching concern for the individual, but now’s the time to look at the overall scenario, Jack. I hate to advise it, but get back on your original track and look at the forest, will you?”

She was right, of course, but her turnaround surprised him. He tended to lump people into groups, and she had pointed that out to him. It isolated him in a way, but that was okay. It was probably what kept him sane. Humanity, his family, his team. See them as individuals? He did in a way, but it was a very objective way. Each was part of this group or that, but if lost, the unit would survive. It could go on. He could go on.

He even viewed the enemy as one entity, to be erased at all costs.

With the members of his team, he considered their particular talents as they related to assignments, rated their unique performances of duty, commended or counseled them individually. That was his job. Relating to them personally, one-on-one, was a whole other thing.

He had tried that. However, after losing his favorite brother—his partner on a long ago NSA mission—and his wife in a shooting on the job two years ago, he finally had decided compartmentalizing was the only way to go. It had become habit and one that suited him. He embraced it now.

“I hear you,” he said, forcing a smile. He quickly finished his coffee and set the cup down on the desk. “Well, I need to get going. Everything set up here?”

“We’re good,” Holly told him. “You know you can’t have anything electronic on you going in.”

“Yeah, they might do a sweep and find it. They’ll surely check the car.”

“Would they search me?” Solange offered.

“Can’t risk it,” Holly said. “Got your homemade shiv, Jack? They’ll expect that and take it away from you, of course. Will sneaked over there earlier and left a cell phone hidden in a hollow under a stone. Look behind the second-closest tree to the house. You go out and pick it up whenever you think it’s safe. You have your locator implant. We’ll know exactly where you are at all times. That’s something. Should we take time to insert one in the doctor?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll signal if things go south. Or call you as soon as the threat’s contained, so you can help sweep up.”

“The police will come then?” Solange asked, touching his arm. Then she jerked her hand away. “They have been alerted?”

Holly frowned, looking from Solange to Jack and back again. “I thought you explained this to her.”

He stood a little straighter. “It’s true, there were agents out of Paris on this in the beginning, but we’ve requested they back off and let us handle it. As for the local police, even your intelligence warned us not to take anyone else into our confidence. Chari might have a plant somewhere inside the local force. No one knows of this but your minister of security in Paris, four of his appointed agents—two of whom are missing—and our control in the States.”

“Plant?” she asked, looking confused. “Oh, someone put there to inform them. But how will you…contain the threat, as you say?”

“That’s not your concern,” he said abruptly. “I’ve got to go.”

Solange watched the woman agent approach Jack and take his hands in hers. It was a gesture that spoke of a close friendship. Or perhaps something more intimate. “You be careful out there, you hear me? You promised me a week in Paris and I have it in writing.”

“Like you’d let me forget it,” he said, giving the Amberson woman a tight but reassuring smile. “See you soon, Holly.”

“Yeah, see ya,” she repeated in a fierce whisper.

Solange followed Mercier down the stairs and slipped out the front door behind him.

The man called Will shook his hand. “Be seeing you, Jack.”

“Sure, take it easy,” Mercier answered.

Solange hurried around to the passenger side and got in, fastening her seat belt even before Jack settled behind the wheel.

It must be a tradition among the members of his small cadre not to say goodbye, Solange thought to herself. But she could hardly help wishing someone had at least wished them farewell.

She took a deep breath and looked in back at the sleeping René. She could only hope his father was glad to see him and his rescuers. Glad enough not to question whether they might have concealed their real reasons for imposing upon his hospitality.

Jack could do nothing but think about what he could be exposing this young woman to. He needed someone older, tougher. At the edge of the village, they passed a train station, dark now, deserted. He suddenly pulled over and stopped the car near a phone booth. “Do you have any euros?”

“Some. In my bag. You need them?”

He reached between the seats and retrieved her medical bag, then set in on her knees. “No, but you will. Don’t argue with me, Solange. Take this and get out of the car. I’m going to call Will to come and get you and take you home. But first I want your word that you won’t reveal any of what we’ve shared with you to anyone. I’ve told you about the possibility of informants among the police. Lives are at risk and you have made an oath to save lives. Do I have your promise?”

She looked deeply into his eyes for a long time, then cast a glance into the back seat to make certain René was not awake. “No. For the last time, I will not let you go without me.”

Jack shook his head, willing her to understand. “He’s only one boy, Solange. Think of the people who will not receive your help in the future if you don’t survive this.”

“But I thought you agreed back there that I could come. I trust you to protect me.”

Jack peered out the window into the darkness. “I would die trying, but there are no guarantees that would help. I don’t want to risk you. Get out.”

“Do this and I will go straight to the police. There might be one among them who works for Chari, but if they all know what is happening and go in immediately, they will arrest everyone and this will be over.”

Oh, great. “That can’t happen, Solange. I need to be there for a while first, to see whether he’s already deployed any of the substance. There could be a shootout if the police burst in. If everyone there dies, we’d never know if the stuff is already out there until some terrorist uses it. Or Chari could be notified before the police arrive, move his operation where we couldn’t locate him. Will you give me your word you won’t alert anyone?”

“No,” she replied without hesitation. “You will have to take me with you.” She set the bag on the floorboard. “This is also my fight. My people are at risk if this man tests this here. And even if he does not do so, there will be others to die elsewhere if he succeeds in selling it. You must stop him, and I must help you do it. Let us go now.” She sat back, her arms folded across her chest.

He surrendered. If he left her, she would probably follow, alone or with the local police. Either could be catastrophic. “I want you to vow on whatever you hold sacred that you’ll do exactly what I tell you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

To her credit, she thought about it before answering. “I will do as you say.”

Jack cranked the car and rolled on, leaving the village of Tournade behind. “Be sure, Doctor, because we have less than fifteen kilometers to go. Then you’ll be committed for good.”

“You must trust me.”

“After you have just blackmailed me the way you did?”

“Even so,” she replied.

Solange worried more about Mercier’s survival than about René’s. There was no way for her to know how well equipped he was to handle this intrigue. He must be good at what he did or his government would never have sent him to do this. At least they had chosen one proficient in the language. And as stubborn as any man she’d ever met. She couldn’t deny he knew how to fight. The guard he had overpowered could attest to that.

This man needed her. He had admitted as much. Why had he changed his mind about that? she wondered. Had she seemed too weak and helpless to be of any use? That made her all the more determined to prove him wrong.

She felt terrible that René must soon undergo a shock when he learned about his father’s treachery. Who was to say what sort of father Chari was? If what he had chosen to become involved with was any indication, he could not possess a shred of compassion.

The boy was barely seventeen. He had passed his recent birthday locked away. Had any visitor come to see him? She doubted it, because those with someone on the outside who furnished the inmates with money and things to trade usually fared better than René had done.

France’s prisons were a disgrace. Her brother had died in LaTerre, innocent of embezzlement and awaiting the trial that had never come to pass. Solange’s father had worked hard since then, trying to ameliorate some of the damage done in those hellholes. Solange was helping to carry on that mission.

There were times when they had no patients at Baumettes. Guards would lock everyone down and refuse them treatment. Some days after bandaging knife wounds, treating drug overdoses and the various illnesses caused by overcrowding, malnutrition and nonexistent hygiene, both she and her father despaired of making any difference at all.

Then they had come upon René, a boy so like Gerard had been. Young, weak of body, beautiful in appearance and fair game for the bullies of the world. Perhaps he was not innocent of the robbery they said he committed—she might never know the truth of that—but she did know that he did not deserve to be beaten half to death. She wanted to get him released, make him well again and help him get on with his life. To save one. Just one would make it all worth doing.

Now perhaps she could save not only René, but other people who had no clue yet that they were even in peril. Solange had never seen firsthand results of biological warfare, but she could well imagine how dire they would be. There would be little or maybe nothing she could do after the fact if it occurred, so she simply must prevent it by whatever means she could.

They turned onto a road leading through a stand of poplars and wound their way for several miles to a huge, rambling old manor house. The farmland around it lay fallow for the most part. Someone had planted what appeared to be oats in one of the fields adjacent to the main road.

“Well, here we are,” Mercier said as they stopped at the front entrance. Two dark-skinned men approached, armed with automatic weapons and menacing looks. The larger of the two ordered them out of the car.

Solange obeyed immediately. Jack did so a bit more languidly, gesturing as he explained in perfect colloquial French that they had brought Mr. Chari’s son to him, along with the doctor who had saved his life. He told them that the boy was unconscious and needed a litter.

Solange had thought it best that René not be conscious when they arrived. As in the prison, the worse his health seemed, the better it would be for him. At least for now.

One of the men disappeared inside and returned shortly with a distinguished-looking man of around forty. He was dark-haired, black-eyed and his skin color—as did his given name—suggested Mediterranean blood. He was slight of build, though possessing a sort of wiry strength his son had not yet acquired. Solange knew simply by the resemblance in their features that this had to be Ahmed Chari.

The guard with him aimed his weapon directly at Solange’s head as Chari approached the car’s back door and opened it. His sharp, assessing gaze traveled over his son. Then he asked her, “What has happened to him?”

“He was beaten by the guards at Baumettes Prison. For insolence, so they said when I arrived to treat him. They realized he was of some importance when advised of his identity, and so they brought him to the infirmary to be treated.” Solange knew the majority of the prisoners in French jails were Islamic. The places were terrorist breeding grounds these days. Perhaps Chari had some influence in those circles. His current activities certainly made that probable. Why had he not used it?

“Will he recover?” Chari asked, hiding his concern as a father rather well, if indeed he had any. Though he was quite handsome, she had never seen a colder countenance on anyone. Merely looking at him gave her a chill.

“Yes, I believe he will eventually,” she answered truthfully, “but he has had some internal damage. Surgery was not indicated at the time, but it might well become necessary later if he has continued problems.”

“You have been treating him from the first?”

“He suffered alone those first two days before they brought him to the infirmary.”

Chari turned to the guards. “Carry the boy inside. Put him in his old room, the nursery on the first floor, and bring in a cot for the doctor.” Then he looked at Mercier. “Get rid of him.”

“Wait!” Solange cried. “He saved René’s life! It was he who overpowered the guard responsible for your son’s beating! Is this how you reward his good deed?”

Chari looked at her as if really seeing her for the first time. She almost shivered under his regard. “What is this man to you?” he demanded.

“Nothing at all,” Solange declared. “But he did save your son’s life and I simply do not believe you should kill a man for doing you so great a favor!”

“Kill him, Doctor? I merely wanted him sent away.” Slowly Chari shifted his attention back to the object of their conversation. “So who are you and what offense sent you to the prison?”

“Jacques Mercier. They say I was involved in receiving stolen weapons, but…” he let his voice taper off with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Get on the radio, Piers, and contact Vaughn in Marseilles. See if this man is lying. If he is not, bring him to my study.”

With that, Chari walked back into the house and disappeared. Solange’s frantic gaze connected with Mercier’s. Neither spoke, but the look he gave her betrayed a brief hint of gratitude and even a little surprise. Her own expression must have been wild-eyed with fright, though she was trying hard not to show how terrified she felt.

Two more men came out carrying a frayed and faded litter that might have been scavenged during World War II. Gently, at her direction, they transferred René from the back seat of the car onto the carrier.

She reluctantly abandoned Mercier to his fate as she accompanied her patient into his father’s house. One of the guards gave a cursory check for weapons hidden beneath her clothing and then plundered more carefully through her medical bag. Satisfied, they left her alone with René. She tried not to let herself wonder whether she would ever be allowed outside the house again in her lifetime. Or if Jack Mercier would ever see the inside of it during his.

Later, after suffering a humiliating and thorough body search and waiting for Piers to make his phone call to Marseilles, Jack relaxed a little. He was inside. Next step accomplished.

He attempted to put all thoughts of Solange Micheaux out of his mind when he arrived in Chari’s study. She was in even more danger than he had worried she would be. He had figured Chari would be a little more grateful for his son’s survival and that he would treat Solange with some respect because of her part in that. Apparently, the man had little in the way of paternal feelings and no kind regard at all for females.

Jack now wished he had opened that car door in Tournade, shoved her out forcefully, then sped off before she knew what had happened. Right now she’d be under no threat whatsoever if he’d done that.

But then again, he could be dead now if she had not come along. If she hadn’t interceded with Chari, he’d probably be out in one of those fields with a little dirt kicked over him.

“Sit down, Mercier,” Chari instructed. “Cigar?”

Jack reached forward and took one. He hated the stinking things, but some men thought smoking them together was a bonding experience. If Chari were one of those men, Jack certainly did want to accommodate him. A little bonding was needed right about now.

“Drink?” Chari offered, gesturing lazily with one hand at the sideboard.

Two fancy decanters stood there wearing a coat of dust. Did Chari practice the religion that forbade it or was he just careful not to let alcohol fuzz up his brain? In either case, Jack wasn’t about to break any unspoken rules.

“No, thanks. Never touch it.”

Chari smiled his approval. “Good. We should get down to business. Tell me about these weapons you have allegedly imported.”

Jack shrugged and took a puff of the cigar before he answered. “A man called Jurin hired me to pick up a delivery in Narbonne. I drove there, went where he directed me to go. The police were waiting. They hauled me in along with the men who had actually had possession of the shipment when they arrived. I was in Baumettes awaiting trial. You know how that goes.”

“Unfortunately.” Chari picked a speck of tobacco off his lip with his fingernail. “How did you come to rescue René?”

“I saw the guards knocking him around. He looked like a kid who didn’t need to be where he was. When I got a look at his doctor, I figured she didn’t need to be there, either. So…since I had no love at all for the bastard who used his fists on children, I took him out. Then I took them with me.” He smiled. “I was going anyway, you see.”

“You had to have help. Baumettes is fairly secure, but even I could not find a way to liberate René.”

Jack somehow doubted he had tried all that hard. Will Griffin had encountered no problem in bribing the right people. Be that as it may, Chari was the one Jack had to deal with right now. And he had to convince Chari he would be a valuable asset.

“You’re right. I did have someone on the outside. He crossed a few palms, got the right key, the right vehicles.”

“Where is he now?”

Jack smiled. “I had no further use for him.”

“How did you find your way here?” Chari asked. “The work I am doing requires solitude. I have made certain that few people know my address.”

“René mentioned the location when he was delirious with fever,” Jack lied. “I hoped that out of gratitude you might offer me a position here.”

“And how would you know what sort of business I am in and what work might be available?”

Jack sighed and rolled the cigar between his fingers. He met Chari’s gaze directly and smiled. “I understand you make films. I confess I have not seen any of them, but I am not much acquainted with the arts.”

“The last was well received in Cannes four years ago,” Chari informed him with a haughty sniff.

Jack almost laughed. The film had tanked miserably and the public screening had proved a joke. Chari had delusions of grandeur that made Napoleon seem modest.

“I’ve heard that you live a reclusive life. Whatever it is you are doing now, I can ensure that you remain undisturbed.”

Chari nodded. “Do you trust this helper you hired for the escape not to have followed you here?” Chari watched him carefully, his eyes narrowed. “I do not wish more unexpected company.”

“You are not making a film,” Jack observed.

“No. Where is the man who helped you?”

“I do not believe in loose ends,” Jack said. The pinball dropped in place. Jack could almost hear the kaching declaring him a winner with the only correct answer.

“Perhaps I could use a man of your…experience,” Chari said, though he still wore the suspicious look Jack figured he’d been born with.

“You need not worry that the police will come here seeking the boy. As far as the authorities know, we are headed out of the country. We will have been observed and reported.”

“By someone else who could change a story and betray you. I believe you have too many accomplices,” Chari declared.

“No, this was just an acquaintance who owed me a favor. She made a phone call for the false report, but has no idea where I am at present.” Jack smiled. “I try to plan for all contingencies.”

“You are hired.”

“Thank you. How is the pay?”

“Excellent once the job is complete. You won’t need it before then.” Chari stood, a sign that the conversation was finished as far as he was concerned.

Jack had a sneaky feeling Chari never intended to issue any paychecks when his project was over. In view of that, he thought he might as well risk making a better deal with the new boss. Maybe come to an arrangement that might offer Solange more safety.

“One more thing,” Jack said boldly.

“Yes?”

“I’ll settle for half pay, get rid of any…loose ends you have dangling when you’ve done whatever it is you’re up to. Also I will make certain you’re not followed if you decide to change locations.”

“And what would secure your generosity in this regard?” Chari asked slyly. “A little medical attention, perhaps?”

Jack grinned and stubbed out his cigar in the lead crystal ashtray on Chari’s desk. “Precisely. Have we an agreement?”

“Sounds reasonable. You calm her fears, see that she takes care of the boy and make her enjoy her stay well enough that she won’t make any attempt to leave or contact anyone. If she does, you are to prevent it and then dispose of her immediately. Can you do that, Mercier?”

“Of course. I assume you are not interested in her yourself, then?” He needed to make certain of that. If Chari made any move on Solange, Jack knew he would have to kill him, even if it blew the mission. He would just have to perform whatever damage control he could after that.

Chari frowned. “She is beautiful, but I dislike women who believe themselves intelligent. I detest the ones who really are.”

Jack laughed as if it were a joke, but he knew better. Chari was speaking with conviction at this point. “She’s smart all right.”

“Has she any experience in a laboratory?” Chari asked, idly tapping the ash off his cigar, fastidiously extending his smallest finger.

Jack shrugged, not really wanting to seem too curious. “I could ask her. We aren’t all that well acquainted. Yet,” he added meaningfully.

“Do so. She might be able to assist with what I have initiated if you could persuade her to cooperate. Find out what you can about her experience and report to me in the morning. Meanwhile, make yourself useful. See Piers for your accommodation and the schedule for the day.”

Jack nodded. “He is your second in command, is he not?”

“Very observant, Mercier. Tell him to give you the old au pair’s room that is adjacent to my son’s. The woman may visit you, but she is to sleep on her cot in the room with René.”