Chapter 21

"I'm just kidding," Michael said.

There was a chorus of clicks as each soldier lowered their weapons.

"Still, tell me why you attacked us out of the blue."

"Let's go inside first," Gawain said, her eyes roaming over the soldiers in white. "It's fucking cold out here."

"I second that," Holly said.

Michael rolled his eyes and waved at the men stationed in the guardhouse, who pressed a button. It slowly ground open, the chain link rattling.

Gawain quickly made her way in, across the grounds and towards what she assumed was the barracks. Not that she cared - as long as it had a heating system, she was fine. Gawain look a deep breath as she opened the door, and warm air flooded out.

Holly pushed past her inside, and sat down at a vacant table which had four chairs around it. She sneezed again.

Gawain took the seat next to her. "Did you pick up any gear?"

"I forgot."

"That's okay. So, uh, we need to get off this mountain. You think Michael's going to help us?"

"I don't trust him," Holly said, sniffing. "He's not even actually working for Phoenix. Just some guy they hired to set up this place."

"Yeah, but Jonas called him."

"That doesn't mean we can trust him." Holly buried her face in her hands. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I don't know what to think any more."

Michael opened the door into the barracks and sat down opposite Gawain. "Jonas says I can trust you."

"But can I trust you?" Gawain asked.

"Not really. You shouldn't trust anyone. Ever. It's too dangerous."

"So you don't trust us?"

"Not completely, no." Michael drummed his fingers on the table top. "Now can you tell me why you parachuted in here guns blazing?"

"You kidnapped Dr. Fischer and put him here. And he was making bombs, which is enough reason for us to crash your party."

"He was there of his own accord. We were simply hired to protect him."

"And you did such a great job," Holly said.

"Your attack wasn't anticipated. Tell me: where is Doctor Fischer now?"

Gawain clasped her hands on the table. "He's been taken by the same people who killed your company president."

"And who might that be?"

"Someone working on behalf of...some very powerful people, it seems. What does it matter to you? You're getting paid whether they go down or not."

"Yes, but I'm getting bonus if they do. Jonas promised me a pretty large paycheck." He smiled a brilliant white-toothed smile.

"So you're offering us your help?"

"Not just my help. Phoenix is at your disposal if you want it to be."

Gawain paused and pursed her lips. Phoenix, on their side. Thousands of security personnel at her fingertips. She could do so much.

"Well?" Michael asked, raising an eyebrow. "You should decide now, before Jonas nags me about it."

"We don't know what we're dealing with yet." Gawain stared at her own distorted reflection in the table. "Even if we have all of Phoenix, we don't know where to hit them. We don't know who they are."

Michael nodded, looking a little disappointed. "If you don't want control of Phoenix, what can I get for you instead?"

"How about a lift to Paris?" Holly asked. "I saw a transport helicopter outside."

"If they have a helicopter, they probably have anti-air weapons. And they'll be waiting for us when we leave. No, it's too risky."

"I've to get to the Notre Dame ASAP," Gawain said.

"Then why don't we attack their base? You know where it is."

"That's…" Gawain nodded. "That's actually a good idea. How many men do you have here?"

"Fifty. How many were down there?"

"I didn't get to count. But there's probably a hundred, including the leader. A guy named Marcel."

"Nothing I haven't done before," Michael said, lifting his legs onto the table and leaning back, yawning. "You know what? Let's go right now. It'll be the last thing the expect."

"Or they might be expecting you to think that."

"They're one attack helicopter down. What could po-"

"Don't you fucking say it."

Michael smiled. "Can't have a bit of hope in a while? What're you, some kind of pessimist? I can't tempt fate?"

"It's usually bad omen when you say something like that."

"And since when did you become superstitious? Does that place look like it can store more than one Eurocopter?"

"I've seen underground hangars."

"Just leave it, Valerie. What could possibly go wrong?"

Jonas pushed the doctor away, and raised his cellphone to his ear. He listen to the dial tone as he walked out the hospital door, and as it clicked and Michael's voice came on. "I got your email."

"Miss Beckett has a cold."

"Oh, I'm sure that's the least of your worries right now. Did you offer them Phoenix like I said?"

"I did. Miss Izaks didn't want it."

"So what's our next move?"

"She said they were in a bunker, so we're going to blow that place to Valhalla. After we sack it, of course."

Jonas nodded to himself. "Tell me how that goes. Got anything else for me?"

"The only other thing I have is that these guys aren't Harker's. We still don't know where those are."

"Who are they, then?"

"Dunno. They can pilot an attack helicopter, so I'm guessing paramilitary or ex-military. Miss Izaks mentioned a name: Marcel."

"Never heard of it."

"Good day to you then."

"As to you, Lieutenant Bishop." Jonas hung up with the touch of a button and slipped the phone into his coat pocket, before strolling down the sidewalk towards the cafe he had seen coming in.

He sat at the table in the very corner, closest to the street, and a waiter came scurrying over with a tiny clipboard in hand. Jonas ordered a club sandwich and a can of soda and went back to his phone. He'd charged it when he got to the hospital, bringing the battery up to just over twenty percent.

Jonas was flicking through the several pictures of Karlien he had on his phone when the waiter returned with a white plate which his sandwich rested upon, and a glass of cole, both of which were set on the table in front of him.

Ravenously, he reduced the sandwich to little more than crumbs in under a minute.

There was half a glass of soda left when police sirens wailed, and a SWAT van tumbled past him along the road.

Jonas gulped the rest of his drink down, and raced across the street, back into the hospital. He crashed through the fire escape door, taking the stairs down to the garage. He unlocked the van from across the garage and sprinted to it, opening the door and swinging himself in.

With the turn of his key, the engine jumped to life and he pulled out of the parking space and launched the car up the entrance ramp.

Another SWAT van rolled by, its sirens flashing and blaring. Jonas moved into the same lane and slowed down, effectively tailing it.

Several turns and a bridge later, the shadow of the Notre Dame loomed over him. Ambulances, police cars and even an APC were park out front, a semicircle of officers with their guns pointed at the entrance.

Jonas parked his van on the side of the road - it looked perfectly camouflaged among the news vans of the other networks. He opened the door and walked across to the police line and squinted through the doors of the cathedral.

"Sir, please step back," an officer said.

"What's happening?"

"There are armed men inside the cathedral. Taken some priests hostage. Please step back and wait until we've resolved this."

"My friends are in there!"

"Sir, there's nothing we can do. Just stand back and let us deal with thi-"

Jonas thrust the heel of his hand into the officer's face, feeling the cartilage in his nose snap under his skin. He reached out, and pulled the officer's gun out of his hostler just as he stumbled back, and leapt over the police line.

There were shouts, but no shot, in his direction as he sprinted inside, pistol held in front of him.

A staccato burst of gunfire blew chunks of stone off the column next to him, and he pressed himself against it, panting.

"I see you!" a voice shouted.

Jonas peeked out from behind the column with one eye, spotting three soldiers in unmarked black uniforms, one with no helmet on and a pauldron on one shoulder. The man with the pauldron raised a pistol and fired at him, the bullets biting into the stone, and Jonas jerked back.

"Seriously? Jonas?" the man shouted. "Come here to rescue your friends, little boy?"

Jonas said nothing. He leaned out the right si-

A bullet ricocheted off the floor beside where he was hiding, and he changed his mind. "Who are you?" he called out instead.

"I'm Garth's replacement. Just get out from behind that pillar and I promise I won't shoot you."

"Not a fucking chance!"

"You don't have to die here, Jonas. A man like you is valuable. More so than that coward Harker."

"You killed Klaas!"

"No, no, Antoine killed Klaas, not me. I don't have such an itchy trigger finger."

"He's still your people. What do you want?"

"To be your friend. And on that note, I'm Marcel. You?"

"You know who I am."

"Don't be such a spoilsport. We're not going to shoot you if you come out. Really. Look, you two, drop your guns."

The clack of metal on the stone floor. Jonas leaned out slightly, and spied the two other geared men standing back, their hands raised an empty. Their TAR21s laid on the floor, beside the leader, who was no longer holding a pistol..

"Your turn, Jonas."

Jonas placed his gun on the floor beside him, and pushed. It slid out from behind the column, between chair legs and came to rest in the aisle. He stood up, raised his hands and walked out.

"Very good," Marcel said. "Come with us, Jonas. We can g-"

"Where's Karlien?"

"We'll get to that. For now…" Marcel held up a small radio-like device with a short antenna. "...you're going to help me."

"Not a fucking chance."

"Shoot him," Marcel ordered. The two soldiers pulled out their sidearms in one movement. Marcel's thumb came down on the side of the radio facing him.

The deafening explosion and the resulting rush of wind knocked the air out of Jonas. He used the momentum to fall to the floor and slid under the chairs. an acrid smoke drifted from the back of the cathedral, making his eyes water.

His gun was just a few metres away, in the aisle. jonas grit his teeth, planted both hands on the floor and pushed himself forwards.

"Empty," Michael said, poking his head out of the doorway. "They must have left right after you."

Gawain sighed and lowered the pistol he had given her. "I guess the computers are wiped too?"

"Yeah. We've got nothing but piles of broken hard drives. and they burnt all the papers."

"What about the hangar?"

"The entrance is some distance down there." Michael indicated the slope opposite the one Gawain and Holly had escaped off from. "We checked inside and there were two more Tigers."

"Operational?"

"Fully. Might get some prints off it. The AA's in there as well, but there's nobody manning it now."

"So we can go to Paris?"

"Yes. Do me a favour and call Summit."

Gawain raised her long-range radio and tuned it to the base's frequency. "Bring the chopper; we're clear, over."

The man on the other end gave an affirmative.

"What's in Paris?" Michael asked.

"Allies."

Michael held up his smartphone, facing the screen towards her. On it, taken from a news helicopter, the grainy footage of the Notre Dame de Paris.

The burning Notre Dame de Paris.