Chapter Six

Staying off the Radar

"Do you see him yet?"

"No. There are a hundred people down there."

Amanda took the binoculars and swept the bridge a second time. They she handed them back and pointed.

"He's on the other side of the bridge. See, right by the railing, looking out at the river."

"Okay…is it the one with the faded black t-shirt?"

"No, no, the one with the sunglasses, he's got a camera."

"Ah, I see him now."

After three days of searching my watcher was finally out of the woodwork. He thought he was being clever, acting the part of a tourist who had a particular fascination with the famous bridges of Paris. Occasionally he would snap a picture of Le point Mirabeau and then gaze out affectionately at the river and chatting animatedly with the younger man beside him.

"Can he really see us?" I asked.

"He knows we're in the building." Amanda said. "But I doubt knows we're watching him."

We were on the roof of an office building about thirty feet from the river. A friend of hers rented space for his insurance company and he gave us access.

"And these are the guys who have been following us?"

"Yes. And they're persistent, so if you want to lose them you're going to have to be particularly clever. Because the minute he gives up looking for you someone else will pick up where he left off."

I had thought of that, of course. Although Amanda wasn't entirely clear why I wanted to lose my watcher so badly, she told me all she knew without questioning me too nearly. But three days later I still had no clear plan.

"Well, it looks like I'm off." I said, at last. We went back down to the office.

Amanda's friend was in America for the weekend and had given her the keys to the adjacent office space, which he used for storage. I had a suitcase and a backpack ready for what I was planning to do.

"All right, the landlord has my last month's rent," I reminded her. "But if Radu or anyone else comes looking for me you'll throw them off, right?"

"Of course."

"Now, one way or the other, I'll try to contact you when I'm back in the UK. But it may take me at least a month to get to where I'm going."

"I know. Remember I had to do this quite a few times."

I pulled a baseball cap out of the backpack and pulled it over my head. It was damaged and faded beyond recognition, but I think it belonged to some muggle baseball team. With my hair cut shorter and dyed a dark reddish color I hoped it would add to the illusion. A baggy sweatshirt and jeans, plus a "new" overcoat from a thrift shop would give others the impression of the typical street waif. Not even a wizard would notice anything odd.

"How do I look?"

"Like a graduate school student," Amanda said, with an affectionate smile. "No one would guess that you have a quarter of a million dollars in your bank account."

"Yeah, about that-"

Amanda held up a hand.

"I insist, Cedric. When you finally do get to where you're going, you're going to need money to set yourself up. And I'm not talking about some dingy little rat trap like the place you were living in."

I heaved a gentle sigh and looked at my mentor. If it hadn't been for her, I wondered, would I still be in the grave now? Would I still have my head after all this time? Unable to fight the urge I threw my arms around her.

"Tell Father Liam good-bye for me," I said. "And if you hear from Methos, tell him I haven't forgotten our dinner date."

"I will."

We pulled back to look at each other, but remained in the embrace. Again, without thinking, I moved in and kissed her on the cheek. She returned the kiss, placing this one on the lips. My heart raced.

We pulled away at last.

"You're the first teacher who's ever done that," I said, awkwardly.

"Consider it your diploma," Amanda said. "You will always be my student Cedric. But for now, classes are out and you've graduated."

I shouldered my backpack and picked up the suitcase. Amanda left a thank you note for her friend and locked up the office. Together we took the elevator to the ground floor and gazed out the entrance.

"This is where we part it would seem," she said, looking out at the bridge. Any minute my watcher would be over it and on my tail again. I was hoping to get ahead of him by a few miles by that time.

"So it would seem." I said, turning away and heading for the emergency exit.

Amanda left through the front, presumably to the car waiting for her across the street. I ran through the emergency exit and across the parking lot, climbing over the fence and hitting the curb running.

I reached the bus station and sat down at the bench, making a huge show of checking my suitcase and backpack to see that my belongings were all in there.

Now that I knew what to look for, it was no surprise to see my watcher, no less than half a kilometer from the bus station, watching me from the safety of his car. I entered the bus station and purchased a one-way ticket to Amiens. The bus was set to leave in an hour, so I checked my luggage with the desk and went to a fast food place for some food.

When I returned to the bus station, the watcher was standing at the telephones, pretending to talk to someone while his eyes swept the terminal tenaciously. For a moment I considered offering him some fries, just to be an ass. But for now I wanted him to believe I didn't know he was there, so I kept up the pretense.

The cheeseburger was less than filling and the fries were terribly salty. The soda was also too sugary, even for my tastes.

In a very short time my impression of muggle food was grossly tarnished by the fast food industry. Food that spent all of ten minutes in a heating device of some kind, only to sit on a rack for God knew how long, was enough to kill any man's appetite.

It made me miss the piping hot, homemade food they served at Hogwarts. It made me miss the food our house elf used to cook, before Dad sacked her. My stomach grumbled again, even though I just ate. The excitement from my imminent return to the Wizarding world also made me ache for the things I missed.

My first goal on the long list of things I had planned to do was to buy a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor beans and eat every single one, no matter what I tasted. I also needed a new wand. The Wizarding world might still be sore to prevent Immortals from mixing in. Plus there was the growing threat of the Death Eaters. A wizard in a magical land without a wand was like an immortal off of Holy Ground without a sword.

And although I had gotten pretty good at passing myself off in the muggle world, I was still a wizard.

My bus began to board. I allowed the attendant to store my suitcase in the lower compartment and brought the backpack with me. Fortunately a window seat was available, so I was able to watch as the watcher exited the terminal, returning to his car parked somewhere nearby.

Good boy, I thought, suppressing a chuckle. They must have figured a student of Amanda Montrose would be near to impossible to track down. That made me wonder if he even suspected I was leading him on.

The bus ride was over two hours long. As muggle transportation goes it wasn't the worse way to get from place to place. It wasn't as bumpy or unsettling as flying at 30,000 feet on a jet and there were no annoying seatbelts to buckle.

As expected, we stopped at a major travel center an hour from my destination. It was a diner, convenient store, gas station and truck stop in one elaborately constructed building.

The driver came on the PA, speaking once in French and again in English. "There will be twenty minutes, before we leave while new passengers board. Those of you going to Belgium will be making a connection that should arrive shortly."

People exited the bus, some to make their connection and others just to get a cup of coffee or stretch their legs. I grabbed my backpack and went into the travel center. After using the bathroom I went through the convenient store and bought enough food to last me through the night. I also bought a thermos and filled it to the brim with coffee.

When I emerged from the travel center I saw his car again. It was parked at the far end of the lot, obscured by darkness. The watcher was probably still in the center, but I couldn't be sure. Either way it gave me a few minutes to carry out the last part of my plan.

As discreetly as possible I went to the side of the car facing away from other travelers. Then, I knelt down, pretending to tie my shoe and extracting a knife from my pocket.

I drove it through both tires and quickly pocketed it, then quickly ran around to the other side of the center, where the truck drivers and RV owners parked. I went from driver to driver, looking for a ride back to Paris and managed to convince one when I produced enough cash.

As we pulled onto the highway I caught a glimpse of the watcher, discovering his car sabotaged. I suppressed a laugh and settled comfortably into the cab.