Vincent pulled his jacket up and headed briskly down the west bank steps and long narrow alley before turning south down the cobbled street leading to the small corner bar, Le Progres. Full of locals, he pushed through them, catching the attention of the barman he ordered a beer on the way to the payphone in the back. He punched in a short code that gave him access via his office to a secure line then entered a number from his notebook. It rang three times. ‘I need to speak to our houseguest.’
‘One moment.’
There was a short delay. ‘Hunter. It’s Vincent.’
‘This line secure?’
‘Of course.’
‘What did you get?’
‘Dufort knows who has Zara. And where she is.’
‘Did he spill it?’
‘No. I could force the issue but we don’t have time, in any case Dufort would make sure it got back to them. We have to move quickly now, he will no doubt sell the information on that we are looking for her.’
‘What about The Dragon?’
‘He won’t send the message. He gave me a name. McNish.’
‘Colonel H? Section Thirteen?’
‘You know him?’
‘Of course. If The Dragon is the anti-Christ then Nish potty-trained him to piss and shit fire. You think he will co-operate?’
‘Dufort said their relationship is strained, he did not say why. But Nish put Zara and Alex together, so let us hope he feels some moral responsibility to act.’
‘I don’t believe moral responsibility and McNish are relatable concepts. He’s probably the only person on the planet who doesn’t fear breaking that kind of news to Alex though.’
‘He’s in Amsterdam.’
‘That doesn’t surprise me. You need me to come and support you?’
‘No, I have good connections there. You need to stay where you are and rest. How is your situation?’
‘This housekeeper you hooked me up with is mothering me to death. She tried to give me a goddamn bed-bath this afternoon, for her own reasons rather than my hygiene I suspect. Couldn’t you have got someone younger?’
‘Of course, but she would not cook for you or clean your pants.’
‘I’d settle for a hot mademoiselle, a takeaway, and a trip to the launderette.’
‘Be careful what you wish for. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve spoken with Nish. I missed the flight so I’m going to drive.’
‘You be careful Vincent. Nish is like Alex, but older and more bad-tempered.’
‘We’re all older and more bad-tempered. Imagine what Alex will become when he is our age.’
‘We better get Zara back then, maybe she can tame The Dragon.’
‘If anyone can, Zara can. I guess she is fireproof. I will check in with you soon. Get some rest.’
‘Stay lucky.’
Vincent hung up the phone and returned to the bar where his colleague was waiting. He took three deep sips of his beer. ‘We’re going to Amsterdam. We missed the last flight so we’re driving.’
‘Should you be drinking then?’
‘It’s fine. What I meant was, I’ll be sleeping, you’ll be driving.’ Vincent slid his colleague’s beer next to his own and gestured at the barman. ‘Mineral water with gas for my friend. He’s got a long drive.’ His colleague shook his head as Vincent downed his beer. Reluctantly he picked up his water. Vincent toasted him. ‘Salut.’
Vincent’s state security service provided black Mercedes E55 AMG made light work of the desolate empty AutoRoute heading northeast across France, to Belgium and The Netherlands beyond. Vincent snored softly in the reclined passenger seat, forcing his driver to turn the jazz up a little to compensate as he hammered the kilometres down through the night, with little regard for speed limits thanks to his vehicle’s state registration’s immunity to any form of fines or prosecution. The most tedious chore was refilling the tank as the over-bored AMG engine filled its boots guzzling down the expensed premium unleaded at a single digits per gallon consumption rate. They were pulling in for the first fill of the morning somewhere between Rotterdam and Amsterdam when Vincent finally awoke. As his assistant refilled the tank Vincent got out the car and immediately lit a Gitanes with no regard for being stood on a forecourt full of flammable liquid then headed briskly inside to the services to order coffee and breakfast. His assistant joined him, collapsed into a chair and yawned. Vincent pushed across a cup of black coffee. ‘You have no stamina. When I was your age I could have done the entire Le Mans twenty-four hour race single-handed.’ Vincent checked his watch. ‘We will be in Amsterdam in two hours. You can sleep all day at the hotel.’ Vincent studied the various early-morning patrons of the services before turning his attention back to his colleague. ‘Did you notice anyone tail us out of Paris?’
His colleague shook his head. ‘The road was deserted most the way.’
‘Good.’ It had occurred to Vincent that Dufort may have sold him out the minute they had parted company. But then perhaps Dufort was relying on Nish to do his dirty work for him. Vincent was under no illusion that his arrival would be un-announced, or the purpose of his visit a surprise to Nish.
‘You have met this guy before?’ his colleague asked.
‘Yes. More than once.’
‘What is he like?’
‘If he shakes your hand, make sure you still have all your fingers when he lets it go.’
‘I see.’
‘What about this other guy? The Dragon?’
Vincent stared at his young colleague then took a deep breath and stared out the window. ‘You don’t want to know. He doesn’t usually operate in Paris, or France. So if you are lucky your paths will never cross.’
‘And if I am unlucky?’
Vincent looked at him. ‘Then it is better to be ignorant. Forearmed is not forewarned with The Dragon. Finish your breakfast. I want to get to the hotel, get a shower and some sleep.’
‘You slept all night.’
‘That was not sleep.’ Vincent finished the last of his coffee and held out his hand. ‘Give me the keys. I will drive from here.’ His colleague handed over the keys. They headed outside. Vincent stopped as they approached the car park and patted his colleague on the shoulder. They both looked towards the car where two thuggish looking twenty-something males were walking round the E-Class. One of them tried the door handle. Vincent and his colleague discretely took out their pistols, checked they had rounds chambered and then hid their firearms under their jackets. They split a few metres apart as they made their way briskly towards the car approaching from the back of the two men, as they reached them they quickly brought their pistols up to mark their targets.
‘Hands where I can see them! Turn around slowly!’ The two men stopped in their tracks. They slowly raised their hands up half-heartedly and turned around. ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Vincent asked the man stood by the driver’s side of the car.
‘I was just admiring your car. It is AMG. Very nice,’ the man replied in a heavily Slavic-accented English. Vincent stared at the man and his accomplice, trying to determine the nature of the threat. Normally he wouldn’t have been so quick to bring arms to bear, but being stuck between Dufort and Nish, either could conceivably have them marked, and something wasn’t right about the characters taking an interest in their car. Professional car thieves perhaps or petty gangsters. Thankfully for Vincent the two-tone horn of a local Dutch traffic Volvo estate made its presence felt.
‘Take care of it,’ Vincent said to his colleague. Vincent’s colleague immediately holstered his sidearm and took out his French security services’ credentials, held it up high with his other hand as the two police officers spilled out of the car with weapons drawn. ‘French Security Services, we have identification. Do not fire, we are not a threat,’ Vincent’s colleague announced clearly. The driver of the Dutch police Volvo remained covering Vincent, who remained covering the two suspects as the second officer approached Vincent’s colleague and checked his I.D.
‘What is going on here?’ The highly attractive blonde Dutch officer asked.
‘We were just finding out. These two guys were taking too much interest in our car.’
She spoke in Dutch briefly to her colleague then returned her attention back to Vincent and his colleague. ‘We know who they are; we had a report of a Serbian gang stealing high value cars to order in the area. Looks like you caught them for us.’
‘We do what we can to strengthen our E.U relationships,’ Vincent’s colleague said with a suave Parisian edge to his tone and a come-hither smile.
‘We can take it from here,’ the brusquer driver interrupted before Vincent’s colleague could spin up his Gallic charms and get to second base. ‘You two. On your knees. You’re both under arrest.’ He walked over to detain the pair and handcuff them. Vincent holstered his pistol. ‘So what are you doing in The Netherlands?’
‘We’re following up on a source. Counter-terrorism. It’s classified.’
‘Are our security services aware of your presence?’
‘We have an inter-agency agreement. There’s no problem here, we are just here for a meeting.’
‘All the same, you have firearms that need permits.’
‘Look. We’ve caught two guys for you. That’s going to help your arrest report. Don’t make problems for us. We’re all on the same side.’
‘Where are you headed?’
‘Amsterdam.’
‘Okay. Well maybe you are lucky and you can catch these guys’ boss for us as well.’
‘What’s his name?’ Vincent asked.
‘Radic. You guys should have caught him long ago; he’s been on the war crimes wanted list from Interpol for a couple of years now. Although he’s mostly making problems stealing cars, trafficking women and dealing drugs now.’
‘That’s out of our jurisdiction.’
‘Someone has to do the real police work right? Have a good day.’ The Dutch police took the pair of arrested car thieves and deposited them in the back of the Volvo. The blonde flashed a smile at Vincent’s colleague as they drove past.
Vincent shook his head. His colleague shrugged his shoulders. ‘What? If you were twenty years younger and not married with three children...’
‘That smile she gave you is what makes you twenty years older and married with three children. Make a note of this Radic guy. Maybe Nish knows where he is; we can pass it on to Interpol. Then when we hand all these expense receipts in we can say were chasing down war criminals.’
‘From the sound of it, this Nish is a war criminal.’
“Yes, but he’s on our side.’
‘He’s British, we’re French. That is not the same side.’
‘Welcome to the European Union, all former enemies welcome.’