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“That’s an affirmative.”
“Don’t lie to me, Mitch. I’m the only person you’ve got right now. I need to know where you are.”
“Two minutes and then I’m out.”
Zaman had been tied and killed with a single shot to the head. That was only the tip of the iceberg, though. Another bullet had shattered his kneecap and three of his fingers were lying on the floor. Had someone really been forced to work this hard to get information from a wealthy middle-aged real estate dev
eloper? The likely answer was no. And that meant serious trouble for him.
“Get in touch with the man you’ve got setting up surveillance on el-Hashem in Paris,” Rapp said. “Tell him to watch his ass. If Nassar’s willing to take out his best friend, he’ll go after the others.”
“I’m going to call him off, Mitch. He’s a thief, not a shooter.”
“Your asset. Do what you think is right.”
A quick search of the suite turned up nothing and he was already exiting back into the hallway when Claudia told him his two minutes were up. He’d made it about halfway to the stairs when two security men appeared around the corner.
“Sir?” one said in English as they closed in. “May we have a word with you?”
“Pardon?” Rapp said in native French. The man he’d passed earlier had called security on him. Clever little bastard.
The guards stopped in his path and the one on the right repeated the request in French.
“Is there a problem?” Rapp said, smiling easily.
“Are you a guest of this hotel?”
“Yes. Why?”
“May we see your key?”
Rapp fished around in his pocket and held it out. He despised dealing with men like this. Killing was quick and easy, but incapacitating was complicated and time-consuming.
“What room are you—”
Rapp grabbed him by the front of the shirt and pulled him into a half-speed elbow strike. He crumpled to the floor as his partner looked on wide-eyed. Instead of attacking, he turned and tried to run. Rapp kicked his back foot and followed him down. A careful blow to the back of his neck had the desired effect and a moment later Rapp was running down the hall.
“Mitch,” Claudia said over his earpiece, “are you all right?”
“Yeah. But I’m going out through the lobby. Security’s onto me, and I’ll be better off mixing with the crowd.”
“Understood. I’m on my way to pick you up.”
He dropped the coat and hat that he assumed security had a description of and hoped to hell that Nassar’s people had done a thorough job of sabotaging the hotel’s cameras.
He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby. It stopped halfway down and a couple in their seventies got in. He asked them if they were familiar with any good restaurants in the area, starting a conversation that continued after the doors were open. Security would be looking for a lone man in a coat and hat, not a man in a gray sweater who was part of a group of three.
He thanked them for the advice when they exited into a covered driveway and walked to the curb as Claudia pulled up. The attendant opened the door and Rapp slipped him five euros before getting in the car. An average tip for a hotel of that quality—nothing he’d remember one way or another. Claudia gave him the expected kisses on both cheeks and then eased the car back onto the street.
CHAPTER 35
Paris
France
THE leafy street was empty of traffic this time of night, and Julien Moreau walked casually along it. Streetlights were widely spaced, and because the mansions that lined the avenue were set back behind walls, the environment was pleasantly shadowed. Normally that would have put him in danger of stepping in one of the piles of dog shit so common throughout the city, but the wealthy residents kept their avenues spotless. In truth, it probably wasn’t that arduous a task. Arabs were about the only people who could afford to live in this neighborhood, and they didn’t much care for dogs. A cultural quirk that made his job so much easier.
An ancient stone wall appeared to his right and he ran his hand along it, counting steps. It was well maintained but had been left rustic, with the jagged edges and receding mortar lines that thieves like him deeply appreciated. Cameras were also conspicuously absent except for over a gate more than fifty meters away. The obsession people had with looking at people arriving at their entrances never ceased to amaze him. If someone pulls up to your fucking gate and rings your buzzer, there’s a good chance they’re not coming to steal your daughters.
