Gentry slid over the top of the stone wall, hung his feet down, dropped into soft grass, and heard the little four-door back away and turn around in the road. Court looked down at his watch. It was seven forty a.m.
The heavy fog totally obscured the chateau. All he could see was the beginning of an apple orchard in front of him. Bright red fruit lay on the ground under row after row of small trees with narrow trunks.
Court checked his gear one last time, took a deep breath to control his aches and pains, and began running through the orchard and into the deep gray mist.
THIRTY-THREE
“Shut it down,” Riegel said.
The two Frenchmen who’d been staring at the bank of monitors in the library for twelve hours straight did as they were told. They began flipping switches from left to right, turning off the images from the infrared cameras around the property.
Lloyd appeared behind them all in the library’s doorway and asked, “What are you doing?”
Riegel answered, “Infrared cameras are for the night, Lloyd. It is no longer night.”
“You said he’d come at night.”
“I did, yes.”
“But he’s still coming, right?”
“It does not appear so,” answered Riegel the hunter, his voice tinged with both confusion and dejection.
“We’ve got fifteen minutes to get a body for Felix. What the fuck are we going to do?”
Riegel turned to the younger American. “We have a helicopter overhead and over one hundred men and women looking for him. We have thirty guns right here at the chateau, waiting on him. We’ve shot him. We’ve stabbed him. We’ve sent him down a mountain, off a bridge. We’ve killed his friends, we’ve bled him dry. What else can we do?”
Just then the Tech’s voice chirped over the walkie-talkie feature of both men’s phones. “We have a couple of problems.”
“What is it?” asked Riegel.
“The Bolivians have left the contest. They just called from Paris to tell us they quit.”
“Good riddance,” snapped Lloyd.
“And the Kazakhs are not checking in.”
Riegel lifted his phone from his belt. “They never check in.”
“The Saudis’ chopper can’t find them on the road.”
Lloyd spoke into his phone now. “We would have heard gunshots if they were in battle with the Gray Man. Don’t worry about it. The bastards probably ran off like the Bolivians.”
Lloyd and Riegel walked back up the two flights of stairs to the third floor. Both men were dead tired, but neither would allow the other to see any sign of weakness. Instead they argued over what could have been done differently and what last-minute actions could still be taken.
They entered the control room and immediately noticed Felix standing by the window, his mobile to his ear. After a few seconds, the thin black man in the suit disconnected his call and turned to face the room. He had not spoken a word in hours. “Gentlemen, I am sorry to say your time is up.”
Lloyd stormed up to him, wild-eyed. “No! We’ve got ten minutes. You’ve got to give us a little more time. You saw him fall into the water. We’ve fucking killed him. We just need time to find whatever ditch he crawled into to die. Tell Abubaker you saw him fall—”
“Your instructions were to produce a body. You have failed in this undertaking. I have reported this to my president. I am sorry. It is my duty. You understand.”
Riegel’s broad shoulders dropped, and he looked away. He could not believe the Gray Man, if alive, had not come to save the kids.
Lloyd said, “Any second he’ll turn up. Abubaker doesn’t have to sign over the contract until he leaves office in another hour.”
“It is now a moot point. I notified the president of your progress . . . or should I say, lack of progress. He signed your competitor’s contract while we were on the phone together. I’ve been instructed to return to Paris to await further instruction.”
Riegel nodded slowly. He said to Felix, “You can fly back with the French engineers. They will be leaving for Paris within the hour.”
Felix nodded in polite appreciation. “I am sorry this endeavor did not work out for you. I appreciate your professionalism and hope our interests will coincide again someday.” The German and the Nigerian bowed to one another. Ignoring the American, Felix left the room to ready himself for departure.
Riegel looked to the Tech. “Notify the teams. It’s over. They have failed. Let them know I will contact their agency heads this afternoon to discuss some sort of . . . consolation.”
The Tech did as he was told. Then he flipped off the monitors in front of him. He pulled off his headphones and laid them on the table slowly. He ran his hands through his long hair.
The three men remaining in the control room each sat alone with their own thoughts for a few minutes. The morning light shone through the window, seemed to crawl across the floor towards them, taunting them with their failure. They were to have their man by sunrise, and sunrise now mocked them.
Lloyd looked down to his watch. “It’s five till eight. No sense in putting it off any longer.”
Kurt Riegel was looking into the bottom of his coffee cup. He was exhausted. Distractedly he asked, “Putting what off?”
“The obligations on the second floor.”
“Sir Donald, you mean?” Riegel straightened. “I’ll handle it. You’d take all day.”
Lloyd shook his head. “Not just Don. All of them. All four.”
Riegel looked up from his chair. “What are you talking about? You want to kill the woman? The children?”
“I told Gentry if he didn’t show, they would die. He didn’t show. Don’t look so goddamn surprised.”
“He didn’t show. That means he’s dead. Why punish a dead man, you idiot?”
“He should have tried harder.” Lloyd pulled the silver automatic from his hip and let it hang in his hand by his side. “Get out of the way, Riegel. This is still my operation.”
“Not for much longer.” There was menace in the big German’s voice.
“Be that as it may,” Lloyd said, “I still have a job to do, and I don’t see you stopping me. You can act all sanctimonious about that family, but you know they could identify us. Identify this place. They’ve got to die.” He pushed past Riegel and stepped into the hallway.
On the Tech’s desk, Sir Donald Fitzroy’s phone rang. Lloyd reappeared in the doorway instantly. The young technician quickly sat back down and slipped his headphones back over his ears. Felix stepped back into the room, curious, his attache in his hand and a camel-colored raincoat over his arm.
The Tech put the call through the overhead speakers. Lloyd said, “Yes?”
“Good morning, Lloyd. How are things?”
“You are too late, Court. We lost the contract, which means you have failed. I don’t need the leverage of the Fitzroys anymore. I was just heading downstairs to put some bullets into them. Want to listen in?”
“You need them alive more than ever now.”
Lloyd smiled. “Oh really, and why is that?”
“Life insurance.”
“Yeah, Court? I watched you fall off that bridge last night. I don’t know where the hell you are, but you are in no position to—”
“Forget about the contract with Abubaker. Don’t worry about your boss firing you. Put out of your mind Riegel’s henchmen showing up at your door some cold night. Ignore all your future troubles. Right now, the only danger in your world is me.”
