Chapter 23

"That can't be good," Michael said. He was seated in the copilot's chair, looking down at the smoking Notre Dame below, and the police force gathered all around it. "Bring us down," he ordered the pilot.

Gawain pulled the door open even before the skids touched touched the rooftop, and jumped out. She flew down the fire escape stairs on the side of the building, jumping off from the first floor and landing with both her feet on the sidewalk.

At the police line, she flashed her Phoenix ID card Michael had printed out for her. "The Security Chief of my company is in there."

"We can't let you pass, miss," an older man said, pushing through the crowd. He had a full grey beard and combed back hair, and he wore a brown trench coat over his white shirt and silver tie. "We're not done going over the place."

"And who might you be?"

He held out a hand. "DI Lennox."

Gawain just stared at him.

"Inspector, I'm afraid you're going to have to step aside," Michael said. He handed Lennox his mobile phone, where a caller ID was being displayed on the screen.

Lennox took one glance at the number, and held it to his ear. "Yes?" As he listened, the expression on his face changed to a thoughtful look. "Y-y-yes sir," he stammered, before looking once more at the caller ID, hanging up and handing the phone back to Michael.

"Well?"

"In you go. Just don't touch anything." Lennox shook his head and stalked over to one of the officers.

Michael pocketed the phone. "There you go."

"Who did you call?" Gawain asked.

"His boss. Good friend of mine."

"You know the Chief Inspector of Paris?"

"I know a lot of people." Michael put his hands in his pockets. "Now are we going to stand around or are we going to find your friends?"

"You said you were an outside contractor. You can ex-cop now?"

"I'm not saying that."

"Then what are you saying?"

"That we should go inside."

Gawain looked through the open doors, to the large white screen that had been set up halfway down the aisle, dividing the entire building. Dark shapes moved behind it, of the forensics scientist and officers striding around. She ducked under a flap, and into the floodlight-lit scene.

Bodies of men in black paramilitary gears were strewn across the floor, around three holes that had been jaggedly carved out of the floor of the cathedral. The forensics officers were standing around the holes, but none of them descended.

Caradoc stood with a man wearing blue gloves, talking to him quietly.

"Dirk," Gawain said.

He looked up and beamed. "Hey, Val. We were just just cleaning up."

"What happened?"

Caradoc waved the forensics scientist away. "We should go outside."

Gawain ducked under the flap again, into the other, empty part of the cathedral. She positioned herself next to one of the pillars.

Caradoc leaned on the pillar beside her. "You look tired."

She let out a breath she had been holding, and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. Caradoc's torso muscles stiffened at that, and they froze there for a long moment, before she slowly relaxed and crossed her arms.

"Of course I do," she said. "I got a concussion when the motel exploded, got dragged back to the Alps, tortured by some guy, shot my way out and got rescued by Phoenix. And I didn't sleep on the way here."

"You were in the Alps?"

"That's where they had their base. A bunker like the down down there." She pointed at the screen with her chin. "Holly got a cold as well."

"And how's you get here? Plane?"

"Helicopter, actually. Jonas sent Michael an email telling him to look for that chopper that attacked us. He found it and shot it down."

"So Phoenix has anti-air weapons now."

"No, he used a sniper rifle."

Caradoc raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me this 'Michael' shot down an attack helicopter with a sniper rifle?"

"Blew the pilot's head off. The rest is self-explanatory."

"Is he here? I've got to see what he looks like." Caradoc looked around inside the cathedral.

"He's outside talking to the inspector. Lennox, right?"

"I haven't met that guy either. Maybe later. For now, we should get down into HQ." Caradoc parted the flap and disappeared inside.

Gawain followed him inside, where he was lowering himself down into one of the holes. She sat down on the edge and gradually brought her feet to touch the concrete floor of the corridor below.

Caradoc started along the dusty corridor, trailing one hand along a wall and creating a line of cleanness on the wallpaper. "Charlemagne's not here yet."

"Where's he then?"

"CERN. Oberon messaged him about the antimatter bomb, so he went to check. He goes there every week or so."

"So who's in charge?" Gawain rounded the corner, to the three-way junction that contained the cafeteria door.

"Roland. Nice lady, a bit violent. Reminds me of Holly, really. She's in the helicopter, right?"

"One of Michael's guys is looking after her. The guy who caught us - Marcel - ripped all the fingernails off her right hand. She won't be shooting any time soon."

"Did you just say 'Marcel'?"

"Yeah, I did. He ran that base in the Alps, with a hundred soldiers or so. With a bitch named Jade."

"Would you believe me if I told you we have Marcel?"

Gawain stopped at the cafeteria door, her hand frozen halfway to the handle. "Marcel was the one who attacked you here?"

"With a small squad. The rest of them is probably with that bitch you mentioned. Which means…" Caradoc pushed the cafeteria door opened and entered.

Gawain followed him into the oblong room with its high ceiling and cluttered tables, and sat down at the closest one. "This isn't over. Far from it. She's got something lined up, I know it."

"Exactly what I'm thinking," Caradoc said, sitting down opposite her. "We'll talk to Marcel in a few minutes."

"Why not now?"

"Pellinore is beating the shit out of him."

"Oh?" Gawain had heard the name before. Pellinore. Highly trained in psychological warfare and rumoured to have even prevented a war at some point. Nobody knew, because the war never happened - with or without her intervention. "And I thought she didn't like to get physical."

"I meant that figuratively. Once she's had her go we'll go in and ask him about Jade. You want a burger?"

"Can't hurt. What do they have here?"

"I've only tried the cheeseburger. It's okay, I guess. There aren't only burgers here, you know."

"Obviously. But I'm really craving fish right now, for some reason, so get me a fish burger, will you?"

"If there's one."

"Off you go; I see Jonas now. And get some ketchup."

Caradoc nodded, and headed to the kitchen doors.

Gawain stood up, shuffled over to the table Jonas was dozing on and set herself down beside him. "Hey," she whispered, rocking his shoulders slightly.

His eyes fluttered open, and squinted at her. "Valerie?" He rubbed his eyes and stretched. "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago. Your friend Michael gave me a lift from his base."

"Michael isn't my friend. He's an o-"

"An outside contractor, yes. He's talking to the detective inspector upstairs. We can go see him if you want."

"Goodness no. Every time I talk to him I get a friggin headache."

"I'm not going to ask. Did you eat something?"

"I had a sandwich in a cafe. Not the best, but it's better than nothing. I'm guessing you haven't met our guest yet."

"I heard about Marcel. Can't wait to beat his face in."

"One of yours is doing that right now, isn't she? I saw her go in with knuckledusters."

Gawain nodded. "We'll get it out of him. Marcel's got to know something to do with Garth, and then we'll go get him."

Jonas' fists clenched on the table. He cast his eyes at his own reflection in the polished metal surface, lips locked in a flat line. "Can you promise me I'll get the last shot at those two?"

"At Antoine and Garth? I can't."

"They're mine."

"They're not yours," she corrected. "Yes, they deserve a bullet to the head, but I can't guarantee that you'll get the opportunity."

"Then I'll create the opportunity."

"Does this mean you're coming with us when we find them?"

"Is there a problem?"

"We've a policy of not putting civilians in danger."

"Do I look like a fucking civilian to you? Actually, I probably do, but I've come this far and I don't think I qualify as one anymore."

"And if you die?"

"Then so be it. I'll take the fuckers with me. Or at least one of them. You guys can take the other one, right?"

"I can't guarantee your survival."

"Then don't. If it's my time, I'll die and there'll be nothing you can do about it. Give me the shot at at least Antoine. Fucker killed Klaas and i'm not letting that shit go."

"Fair enough. Wanna...wanna talk about something else?"

"Like what?"

"Karlien."

He swallowed. "They're running a search for her. Some program that calculates possible routes or something, but Amsterdam is a big city."

"We'll find her. But Jonas, if she's…"

"If she's dead? I'm ready to accept that, thank you very much. I'd prefer it though if you could get her back to me in one piece."

Caradoc set a metal tray containing a plate with a burger and a packet of ketchup on it on the table in front of Gawain. "They didn't have fish, only shrimp."

"That's fine," Gawain said. "Jonas, we'll do everything in our power to bring her back. But I can't guarantee her survival either."

"Yeah, yeah, I get that," Jonas said, lowering his chin back down on the tabletop. "Can you sit somewhere else? I'm trying to sleep."

Gawain rolled her eyes and picked her tray, reassuming her position on the previous table with Caradoc. She picked up the burger with both hands and took a small bite out of it, chewing for a moment and then swallowing. "Not as bad as I thought it'd be."

"Ketchup or no ketchup?"

"I'll live with none. How are you stopping the police from coming down here?"

"Roland knows a guy in the government. He's listing this as some sort of confidential area, so the cops have no jurisdiction. And they're all going to have to sign something to keep their mouth shut as well."

She took a large bite out of the burger.

Caradoc's pager beeped. "Pellinore's done. You wanna finish that?"

"Give me a moment." In three quick bites, she had stuffed the entire remaining portion of the burger into her mouth, chewed for a long while and then swallowed. "Done. Any drinks?"

Caradoc pointed to a wheeled cart sitting in between to tables, lined with bottled water. "Go crazy."

Gawain picked one up, twisted the top off and tipped it down her throat. She removed the bottle from her mouth, half-empty. "So, Marcel?"

"Follow me." Caradoc went for another door in the cafeteria, into a slightly wider corridor with office doors. He led her around two turns, and to a door labeled "Interrogation". Knocking on it three times, he opened it and stepped in.

They were in a small room with another door, right next to a one-way mirror which allowed them to see into a padded room where Marcel was tied to a chair with zip ties. A table was relegated to one corner of the small room, a laptop on it and a short man was hunched over the keyboard. Sitting on the table edge beside him was a woman in a cream suit, polishing a pair of brass knuckles with a bloody handkerchief.

"Gawain, this is Esclados and Pellinore," Caradoc said, pointing at the short man and then the woman.

"He's as tight as a clam," Pellinore said. "You here to have a go?" She extended the hand with the knuckledusters.

"Not my style," Gawain said., pushing Pellinore's hand back. "Marcel knows me. Maybe I can get him to say something."

"She did say 'tight as a clam'," Esclados said. "But if you wanna have a go, the door's unlocked. Just don't kill him, okay?"

Gawain looked at Caradoc. "Don't wait for me. I'll be a while." She put one hand on the interrogation room handle, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open.