Against the Wall
Solange did so, reluctant to leave the sleeping René. She wondered whether she would see him again if she were forced to stay in this house. It would have to be at the point of his gun. She meant to go with him.
The dark old house looked forbidding. Mercier lifted the ring on the lion’s head doorknocker and rapped once, paused, then tapped four more times in rapid succession.
A tall figure opened the door and emerged immediately, a mere shadow in the weak light of the moon. The doorway and the windows of the house remained dark. Solange noted the silhouette of a weapon in the man’s hand. “You’re late. We’d begun to worry,” he said to Mercier in English. “Everything go okay?”
“Not exactly. Will, this is Dr. Solange Micheaux, the old doctor’s daughter who was filling in for him. You stay here with our passenger while I get her settled upstairs. There’s no point moving young Chari any more than we need to.”
“Ma’am,” the voice acknowledged. “How is the boy?”
Mercier answered for her. “Not as bad as I thought.”
“Great. Then he’ll be able to vouch for you with his father.”
“I’m afraid he slept through everything,” Mercier said, taking Solange’s arm and ushering her inside the dark building.
He led her up a winding stairway to another door and knocked again in the same sequence. A woman answered. She was armed, but when she saw Mercier, she smiled and tucked the pistol into the holster at her waist and stood aside for them to enter. The room was warmly lit, the one window completely covered with heavy black fabric that had been taped securely to the frame.
“It’s about time, boss. We were getting ready to come looking for you.” Her dark brown gaze landed on Solange, who had elected to remain slightly behind Mercier and as unobtrusive as possible.
“Holly Amberson, this is Dr. Solange Micheaux,” he said, stepping away so the woman could see her better.
Solange admired her looks, even as she experienced a twinge of envy. Amberson was an unusual beauty with skin the color of pale caramel. Sleek black hair clipped in a short cap clung to a perfectly shaped head. Her dark brown eyes were long-lashed and slanted upward, giving her a faintly exotic expression. Her figure looked toned for strength beneath her black leggings and cropped chenille sweater. Though she stood only an inch or so taller than Solange’s five-three, she exuded self-confidence.
Jacques Mercier must find this Holly person terribly attractive. Were they involved?
He spoke up then and dispelled her musings about Amberson. “The Chari boy’s still in the car. Solange has him heavily sedated.”
The woman nodded. “So he missed the whole rescue op he was supposed to tell his daddy about. And our option, the elder Dr. Micheaux, is in the hospital. We verified the accident last night. The driver who struck him was a plumber on his way to a job and in a hurry. He checks out clean, no ties to anyone connected with Chari. It was just an unfortunate turn of events. Tough luck, but not insurmountable. She’ll do just as well.”
“No, she’s staying here.”
“What is my father’s condition? Have you heard?” Solange demanded.
“He’s doing very well. Better than expected. You need not worry about him.”
“Thank you for finding out.” Solange knew he would recover. She had checked his condition herself before she had gone to the prison. But it was her prerogative to worry, anyway. Their housekeeper, Marie, would be there for him if he needed anything.
Mercier interrupted her thoughts as he spoke to the woman. “I saw Will as we came in. What are the rest of the troops up to tonight?”
“Heard from Clay a couple of hours ago. He’s on top of things at the office. Joe and Martine are upstairs,” she added with a sly grin. “Eric’s out prowling around somewhere. You want me to raise him?”
“No, that’s all right. Just counting noses.”
He left Solange standing there, subject to the woman’s continued scrutiny and went straight to the coffee maker where he poured two cups. “I can’t take Solange in with me. She’s willing to help, but—”
“She knows the score?” the woman asked, eyeing Solange critically.
“Yes, everything,” he admitted as he turned and handed Solange a steaming cup. He was still addressing the woman, and they were both speaking rapid English, perhaps thinking that might prevent her understanding. “She can be trusted. That’s not the problem. Still, I’ve elected to leave her with you.”
“Why? He’ll need a doctor. You were the one who said—”
“Yes, but she’s not what I…we expected,” Mercier stated flatly, as if Solange had somehow disappointed him.
Amberson gave a little mirthless laugh and shook her head. “If I thought you’d had any time to get acquainted, I’d think you’d gone sweet on her. Maybe that you didn’t want to risk her cute little neck or something.”
Mercier looked away while he drank his coffee, obviously not wanting to dignify that ridiculous supposition. Sweet on her? An idea as facetious as the expression was archaic. But it gave Solange a small lift in spirit that this gorgeous woman might think such a thing was possible. Solange, an ordinary physician, hardly felt she was exotic enough to interest a man such as Mercier. Could she have made this woman a bit jealous?
It was hard to contain her smile. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and raised her eyebrows at the Amberson woman just because provoking her seemed the thing to do at the time.
“Good grief, man.” Amberson groaned and rolled her eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re definitely wrong,” Mercier muttered. But he sounded more impatient than outraged. “We don’t know much about Chari, the man. And Solange is so…well, look at her, Holly.” He gestured in her direction rather rudely.
Solange had enough of being talked around as if she were not there at all. She interrupted in English to establish that fact. “Pardon me, but I really must insist that I accompany you, Mercier. René might—”
“She’s right, Jacques,” the woman said. “Who’s going to tell Chari what happened? How you rescued his son?”
“I’ll tell him myself.”
“Yeah, right. You think he’ll believe you if you just waltz in there bragging about the chances you took to get him out? That’s the whole point of your going into the prison in the first place, wasn’t it? To get the kid out and make the dad grateful!”
“I’ll make him believe me.”
Holly threw up her hands. “Jeez, then Will might as well have dragged the boy out when he was there to leave the truck! René Chari can’t toot your horn for you if he’s been out like a light the whole time. He won’t even know who you are when he comes around.”
“He saw me earlier. I interceded for him during the last beating.”
Solange butted in, forming the English clearly and concisely. “But he was hurt then, probably dazed. Perhaps he won’t even recognize that it was you who helped him.”
Mercier growled, “I’ll think of something.”
Amberson threw up her hands in frustration. “Jack, be reasonable! You need her.”
“You do,” Solange agreed. She got right in his face to drive her point home. “If what you have told me about René’s father is true, then I must do everything within my power to help prevent what he is planning. And we must find out if he is the only one doing this. This is what you told me yourself.”
Amberson nodded emphatically. “She might even be able to help assess what Chari has and how much damage it might do. I’ve checked you out, Doc,” she told Solange. “When I did the background search on your father, I did his family, too, so I’m aware of the training you’ve had. I wish you’d been into research in this particular area, but then, I guess you wouldn’t have been where you were at the time, huh?”
Solange smiled politely. “I suppose not. However, with the sort of threats the world has been living under these past few years, I have read extensively of anthrax, smallpox, ricin and other likely weapons of terror. Most of us within the medical community realize what we might be called upon to do if such disasters occur and we have to be prepared.”
“Excellent!” Amberson gave her a smile of approval that looked quite sincere. Solange returned it. She could like this woman who spoke her mind so freely and had no qualms about contradicting a man when she knew she was right.
“I can do this,” Solange stated with conviction. “And I will.”
“You see, Jack? She’s actually better qualified than we’d hoped. Get her inside that lab if you can. See what he’s got.”
Mercier glared at his friend for a moment, then lowered his head. Obviously he was the one in charge of this assignment or whatever they were calling it, but he had to recognize that she and Amberson were right in this instance. In any event the argument seemed to be over for the moment.
Solange sat drinking her coffee while Mercier ignored them both and began typing something on one of the computers.
Holly Amberson smiled her encouragement and offered Solange a pastry from a box near the coffeemaker. “Here, you might need some energy, however this works out.”
“I am going,” Solange said to her, then bit into the orange-glazed confection she had chosen.
“I know,” Holly replied. She winked at Solange and toasted her with a croissant. “Come with me. I’ll show you where to freshen up and we’ll see about getting you immunized.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mercier said.
“Yes,” Solange argued. “It will.”
Chapter 3
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.