it was I who tipped the assassins off. Knowing that I’ve been double-crossing him all along, he will not be so inclined to save my family.”
Lloyd just smiled. “I’ve prepared for this contingency.”
“Are you bloody daft? He won’t come to my rescue. Can’t you understand that?”
“That is no longer my plan.” Lloyd turned away, conferred with the Tech.
The helicopter raced over the channel, and the moonshine flickered on the water below like a tray of loose diamonds. At seven in the morning, the Sikorsky crossed directly over Omaha Beach, the site of the most bloody of the D-day landings. Nearly three thousand young American men died in the water and on the sand and in the bluffs off the beach below them. Lloyd did not look out the window. He was talking to the Tech over the helicopter’s intercom radio; Sir Donald listened in but said nothing. Lloyd authoritatively barked orders, orchestrating the movements of the surveillance experts like chess pieces on a board. He ordered the Tech to send all kill teams now east of Guarda to the west of Guarda: Zurich, Lucerne, Bern, Basel. As the road between Gentry’s starting point and objective shortened, the ten hunter-killer units still in the fight had less territory to cover.
“Let’s move the Venezuelans from Frankfurt to Zurich. Have the South Africans head to Bern on the off chance he turns south. Who’s in Munich? Then Gentry has already bypassed the Botswanans. Let’s pull them all the way back to Paris; they can support the Sri Lankans on site there. The Kazaks are in Lyon. Right? Lyon is too far south, but we’ll stage them there till we get more intel. Make sure they’re near the highway and ready to head north. Send another detail of surveillance to Zurich and double-check Gentry’s known associates list. Who else is in Paris? Well, I don’t care how good he is, one man is not enough. Gentry has lots of history there; I want three teams in Paris
Claire sat on the edge of her bed and worried. It was seven thirty a.m. The full shine of the morning was still a half hour off.
She’d slept, only because last night her mother had made her drink some awful green cough syrup. When she woke, it was still dark. She’d wondered where she was at first, then one by one, she remembered the terrible events of the day before, culminating in the short drive from the family villa in Bayeux to the large old chateau with the huge gate and the long driveway and the green lawn. She remembered the big men in the leather coats speaking the strange language and the scared looks of Daddy and Mummy, despite their continued assurance that everything was just fine.
Claire checked to make sure her sister was sleeping next to her. Kate was there; she’d choked down a mouthful of cough syrup, too.
Claire sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window. The only movement was the huge man below her in the gravel car park at the side of the castle. A big gun hung around his neck, and he fished one cigarette after another out of his coat, smoking constantly.
Now and then he talked into a walkie-talkie. Claire knew what the radio was; she remembered the American, Jim, who’d stayed with her family when she was little. He’d had a radio, and he’d showed her and her sister how to press the button and talk into it like a telephone, with her mum answering on the other end in the back garden.
These men around her were nothing like Jim the American. Although she could not remember everything about his time in her house, she remembered he was nice and friendly, where these men had angry and unhappy faces.
Last night before Mummy made the girls drink the cough syrup, Kate had wanted to go exploring throughout the castle. Claire went along, but she was not playing like her silly sister. The angry men all but ignored them as they walked through the kitchen. Kate beat on pots and pans with a spoon because they echoed wildly in the massive chateau. They wandered down endless wooden-floored corridors and turned back from some because they were too dark and spooky. They found a cellar full of dusty wine bottles and they found a big library full of huge leather books and they found room after room where the walls were lined with the heads of large, scary animals with fur and horns and huge teeth. An orange cat ran down the hall, and they followed it down into the basement, watched it push open a little window high on a wall above a shelf and let itself outside and into the back garden.
Next the girls discovered a spiral staircase that wound up and up and up, and they climbed to the top of a tower. There they turned on a light, saw a man at a table sitting in a chair and looking out one of the open windows into the dark. He had a radio next to him, and he had a big gun in front of him. He’d yelled at the girls in that ugly foreign language, and Kate laughed and ran back down the stairs. Claire followed her sister, but her heart pounded in her chest. The man had barked into his radio, and soon men came and got the girls and took them by their arms to their parents’ room. In English one of the big men told Daddy to put his girls to bed, and Daddy had yelled back at the man, told him to keep his hands off, and then stormed out on the balcony while Mummy brought Kate and Claire into the bathroom to drink the medicine.
It had been an awful day and an awful night, and now that Claire had awakened, she knew it had been no bad dream, and today would likely be just as horrid.
As Claire sat at the edge of her bed in the low light and worried, she thought she heard a funny noise in the distance. Soon it was louder, came closer to the chateau. The skies above her home in London were filled with helicopters, so it didn’t take her long to identify the distinctive sound of a propeller.
She stood with her face to the window. The helicopter came over the woods on the far side of the big fountain in the big back garden. Its black rotors spun above its white body as it approached the far edge of the gravel car park, then it turned to the side, landed on its wheels, and sank down. The door on the side opened, and four men in suits climbed out.
The whipping wind of the helicopter blew open one man’s suit coat, and even from sixty meters Claire could see the pistol holster against the man’s white shirt.
More men with guns.
As the blades whipped above them, four more men stepped out of the chopper. The first man was black and wore a brown suit. The next man hauled two suitcases. He had a long ponytail and ran forward towards the chateau. Then came a man carrying a briefcase. He was thin and wore a black suit with a raincoat over it. His shiny black hair was short and messy in the wind, and Claire could tell, even in the distance, that he was someone important. The way he looked about, stormed forward on the balls of his feet, and gestured to those around him.
The next man who exited the helicopter was larger, older, bald except long white hair around his ears that lashed around below the spinning propellers. Claire pressed her face to the glass, squinted to get a better look.
Then she shouted out loud, waking Kate behind her with a start, though she’d somehow managed to sleep through the helicopter’s approach and landing.
“Grandpa!”
Fitzroy was allowed a minute with his son and daughter-in-law in the kitchen on the ground floor of the chateau. Phillip and Elise were subdued and confused and a little too scared to be angry.
From there he was shuffled up to the third floor to a large room that was set up similar to the conference room at the LaurentGroup subsidiary in London. There was a seat for him, a big Louis XV armchair. Lloyd had his own chair, a sleek, black, modern model. The Tech was already on station, setting up equipment on a long bank of tables that had been hauled in from other rooms and pushed together to suit his needs. He was just now flipping switches on laptops and radio sets, bringing the new operation’s center online.
The room had three doors leading from it. One was to an adjoining bathroom, the second was to the main hall, and the third, Fitzroy noted when one of the Belarusian guard force came through it to speak privately with Lloyd, was the entrance to a small spiral staircase that surely went both up towards the tower above them and continued down to the lower floors.
