Wanted: A Leopold Blake Thriller (17 page)

The chef struggled against the German’s hold, but quickly weakened. His knees gave way a few seconds later. Reiniger stepped back and let him fall to the floor, where he lay motionless. Pulling a giant roll of green paper towel from one of the shelves, the assassin staunched the growing puddle of blood that was forming on the floor and wiped the spatter off his shoes. The effect wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny, but Reiniger was satisfied he was clean enough to escape a second look should someone pass him in the hallway upstairs.

Letting the door swing shut behind him, the German made his way back to the elevator and selected the sixth floor. The car rattled to a stop and he stepped out into the hallway, leaving the metal gate open. He walked toward the door that led through to the residential areas and felt for the handgun holstered beneath his suit jacket. Blake’s penthouse was at the other end of the floor, with just a few apartments in between. Reiniger hoped the rest of the building’s occupants were fast asleep.

Reiniger eased the door shut behind him and crept forward, scanning the area in front of his feet for any motion detectors or other equipment that might give him away. The path ahead was clear and he quickened his pace, making it halfway down the corridor before something stopped him dead in his tracks.

A distant rumble sounded ahead, coming from the stairwell. Reiniger held his breath and listened again. The noise grew louder, heavy footsteps approaching. Turning, he headed back for the elevator and ducked behind the exit door, crouching low.

He held the door open a fraction and peered out. At the end of the corridor was the stairwell door, just opposite Blake’s penthouse. The noises had stopped. The assassin scanned the hallway and watched the stairwell door open, slowly at first. Next came a pair of boots, then another, and another. Half a dozen figures crept through, forming a line at the penthouse door. They wore dark uniforms, the initials ‘GIPN’ emblazoned on the back of their body armor, and full headgear. Each held an assault rifle, what looked like G36Ks.

How did they get here so fast?
thought Reiniger, closing the door. He leaned back against the wall, his mind spinning. The GIPN, or
Groupe d’Intervention de la Police Nationale
was France’s answer to the SWAT team, which meant someone back at the Commissariat wanted to make damn sure Blake found his way back into custody. With everything that had happened, that would mean a lot of loose ends for Reiniger’s employer – and the assassin knew exactly what that meant for his chances of long term survival.

Letting the door shut, he glanced around the service corridor for an exit route. Riding the elevator was out of the question – the noise would immediately give away his position – and the only door led back through to the main hallway and half a dozen heavily-armed police officers. There was no way out.

He kept low and took refuge in the elevator car, sliding the metal gate closed. If anyone came looking for him, he’d still have enough time to get to the ground floor and maybe even out the back door. He hoped it didn’t come to that – taking out three cops in a deserted parking lot was one thing, but an apartment block full of GIPN was pushing his luck a little too far. His only hope was to keep quiet and stay out of sight.

Reiniger pushed his back up against the wall and slowed his breathing. He listened for any signs of movement, but the only sound he could make out was his own pulse throbbing in his ears.

A brief shudder rocked the cab. Reiniger reached for the gate. It wouldn’t budge. He heard the
click, click, click
of disengaging locks. With a deafening clatter, the elevator sprang to life.

Chapter 33
 
 

“AND YOU’RE SURE this will work?” Sophie looked up. “What if you’re wrong?”
 

Leopold sat down next to her on the sofa. “I’ve done the research. The alarm system is pretty high end, but it still relies on a physical telephone line. If we can find the cable, we can cut it. Then all we have to do is disable the alarm control panel inside the house.”

“
J'en ai ras le bol!
Why not just let me call
Madame
Dubois? I can talk to her, maybe convince her to let me inside. Then we can find the evidence you need.”

“That won’t work, you know that. The police know you’re involved and they’ll be expecting you to make contact. Our only chance is to get in and out undetected.”

“So once we’ve cut the telephone connection, then what?”

“The alarms will still go off if we trip any of the entry points,” said Leopold. “Which means we’ll need to locate and disable the control box within thirty seconds of getting inside. There’s just one issue.”

“And that is?”

“We have no idea where it is.”

“And you don’t see this as a problem?”

“Not one that’s going to stop me.”

“Is there anything that
would
stop you?”

Leopold opened his mouth to reply, but didn’t get chance. Sophie leaned forward and put her hand on his knee.

“Why do you feel you need to run straight into danger?” she asked. “Why put yourself in harm’s way? You could run, far away from here. We’d be safe.”

“If I run now, I’ll be running forever.” He looked into her eyes and felt her hand flinch. She pulled it away.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” said Mary, walking in to the room.

“How long have you been standing there?” Leopold felt his face get hot and decided to change the subject. “Is Gerard ready?”

“She’s got a point, you know.” She looked across at Sophie. “You do have a habit of jumping in head first.”

“It’s worked for me so far.”

“Debatable.”

“About Gerard?”

Mary sighed. “He’s just about ready. He asked me to bring you all through to the living room for the briefing.”

“Let’s go.”

Gerard was waiting for them as they arrived. He stood in the middle of the floor, tie draped over a chair, his handgun holstered. “
Bon
, we are ready,” he said. “We exit the building through the kitchens, the same way you came through. It’s important that nobody sees us leave. Once we’re outside, we can take my car to Dubois’ place. It’s parked around the corner.”

“If we get split up?” asked Mary.

“The car is a black Mercedes CLS550. You’ll find it parked along the Rue Lord Byron. There’s a spare key taped to the inside of the driver’s side wheel arch. If we get separated, continue with the plan. It’s priority number one that we obtain the evidence from Dubois’ place.
Comprenez-vous?
You understand?”

The three of them nodded.

“Good. Collect your things and shut down the computer.” He looked at Leopold. “Make sure you set the hard drives to reformat. We need to wipe any trace that we were here. You’d better –” He froze in mid-sentence.

“What is it?” asked Mary.

Gerard looked at his cell phone. “We’ve got company. Someone tripped the motion sensors.”

“That man from the parking lot?” Sophie asked.

Gerard ignored the question. “Move. Now.”

As the bodyguard went for his weapon, the consultant heard a crash from the entrance hall, the sound of splintering wood. Mary instinctively reached for her hip, looking for a non-existent gun. Leopold grabbed hold of both women and pulled them back toward the study, dragging them around the corner.

“Keep down,” he said, pressing his back up against the wall. He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, making him a little dizzy.

“Gerard,” said Mary. “He’s a sitting duck. We have to help.”

Leopold peered around the corner, but couldn’t see the bodyguard anywhere. Three armored figures moved cautiously through the entrance hall toward the living room, their uniforms marked with the letters “GIPN”

“I don’t think they saw us,” he said, turning back to Mary.

“Who the hell are they?”

“It looks like the police caught up with us sooner than we thought. I saw three of them.”

“Just three?”

“There’ll be more out there somewhere.” Leopold inched back toward the edge of the partition wall and glanced at the empty spot Gerard had occupied seconds earlier. He scanned the room. The GIPN officers were out of sight, but the consultant could hear their footsteps on the hardwood floor. Over to the right, a shadow. Someone crouched behind one of the sofas. One of the GIPN inched closer, coming into full view. The shadow moved.

“
Hé, toi!
” Gerard drew to his full height and vaulted the sofa. Before the cop could turn around, the bodyguard was on him – one thick forearm wrapped around the man’s exposed neck. His handgun drawn, Gerard used his captive as a shield and took aim at the other intruders. Leopold heard two high-pitched yelps as the bodyguard fired off his shots, both cops hitting the floor clutching at their chests. Gerard kept his grip around the first man’s throat and pulled off his helmet. Using the butt of his gun, the bodyguard knocked his opponent unconscious, letting the man’s limp body fall to the carpet. Stepping over, the bodyguard made his way over to Leopold and the others. “Anyone hurt?” he asked, glancing at each of them in turn.

“No, we’re fine,” said Mary. “Are they dead?”

“No, but they won’t be getting up anytime soon. More will be on the way soon. We need to get out of here.”

“What’s that sound?” said Sophie.

Leopold looked out toward the hallway. Something small and silver was rolling across the floor in their direction. It came to a rest in the middle of the living room.

“What is it?”

 “Run. Now,” said Gerard, pulling Leopold to his feet.

“Where to?” asked Mary. “There’s no way out, in case you didn’t notice.”

A hissing noise.

“
Merde
! What’s that?”

“Just keep moving,” said Gerard, ushering the three of them toward the laundry room. “They’re using smoke grenades. They’ll try to disorient and separate us. Stay together.” He shut the door behind him. “We’ve not got long.”

Mary backed up against the washing machine and glared back at him. “And now we’re shut up in here. Way to go, genius.”

“It’s a defensible position,” said Gerard, holding up his gun. “And who said there was no way out?” He glanced at the laundry chute.

“You’re kidding me.”

“It’s big enough.”

“We have no idea where it goes.”

“It goes to the basement. Where they collect the laundry.”

“I know that. I meant, we don’t know… Oh hell, never mind.” Mary pulled open the hatch and looked down into the darkness. She turned to Leopold. “I officially blame you for this.”

“Understood,” he said.

“Let’s get it over with.”

Chapter 34
 
 

THE ELEVATOR RUMBLED to a halt and Reiniger forced himself into the corner, just out of sight of the doors. His knife at the ready, the assassin watched as the metal grate slid open. A man stepped into the car and Reiniger lunged, one hand over the stranger’s mouth. He used his free hand to jab the KA-BAR into the man’s stomach and he doubled over, letting out a muffled groan before sliding to the floor. Reiniger brought the knife handle down hard over the man’s head, knocking him out.

Looking down at the unconscious stranger, the assassin took a moment to regroup. The sleeping man was dressed in civilian clothing and smelled of expensive cologne. His shoes were clean and dry, his hair slightly damp. Other than a split lip and day-old stubble, his face was entirely unremarkable. The assassin reached down and fished inside the man’s jacket pocket, locating a set of keys. The key ring read “
Appartement
230.”

Reiniger looked out into the hallway. Apartment 230 was just in view, a few feet down the corridor. He grabbed hold of the man’s arms and pulled, dragging him across the carpet toward his own front door. With a brief glance to the left and right, the assassin unlocked the door and stepped through, pulling his host through after him.

Slumping the body over the sofa, Reiniger checked the rest of the man’s pockets. He found a wallet, complete with driver’s license, and a mobile phone. Tossing the phone, the assassin studied the ID card and slipped it into his own pocket, confident that he looked enough like the photo to use it if needed. He tossed the rest of the contents of the wallet onto the floor and made his way to the kitchen.