by Lyn Stone
His sigh was long and heartfelt as he lay beside her, his fingers idly toying with her hair. He drew the clasp free slowly, carefully and tossed it away.
"You looked so beautiful tonight," he said. "When I saw you come down those stairs, I wanted to grab you and run, take you away from all of this and let the devil take these bastards. Solange, I have to end it."
"Us?" she asked.
"No, them," he answered.
"I think the research has drawn to a close," she informed him. "The one chemist Chari has working in the lab must have succeeded in what he was trying to do."
"What was that?" The languor had left his voice and he was all business, the dedicated agent. No longer the lover.
"Making the toxin stable regardless of temperature," she told him, condensing the research she had been privy to as concisely as she could for a layman's ear.
Then she repeated what she had written down on the handkerchief.
"The formula is the last one that he recorded, but I believe he made some sort of breakthrough after that entry. The log disappeared and I couldn't find it."
"My God, don't tell me you were plundering through his things looking for it. You could have been caught!"
She shook her head impatiently. "I was safe enough. After he came to whatever conclusion he reached, he left. Apparently he had a key all along and could come and go as he pleased. I was locked in the tower alone until Chari came for me and took me upstairs to get ready for tonight."
"I have to move on this right away," Jacques said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "God knows, I'm ready to get out of here and I know you must be."
"What do we do?" Solange asked, placing her palm on his back, feeling the hard muscles play beneath her hand. "How may I help?"
He looked down at her and smiled. "Don't you think you've done enough?" His smile was grim. "Are you sure you're not with Securite or something like it?"
"I do not even know the names of our agencies. No, I am simply a doctor who, until this past week, was as unaware of imminent threats such as this as the next person."
"And now here you are, up to your beautiful neck in very imminent threats."
She caressed his back, gently scraping her nails along the ridge of his spine. "Yes. And here you are, burdened with a bumbling novitiate."
"No longer that." He smiled and reclined, trapping her arm beneath him, sliding his palm over her midsec-tion and touching her intimately. "I hate that it was I who stole your innocence."
"I was hardly innocent," she argued lazily, her mind already dismissing everything but the feel of his hand on her.
"Oh, yes, Solange, you were. But tonight we will forget where we are, all that has happened and all that is to come. We have our time out of time."
"Yes," she whispered, "at least we have that."
Jack left Solange sleeping when he went to pull the late shift that would last until dawn. René had promised to keep watch over her and raise the roof if anyone came to order her back to the tower.
It was doubtful Chari would do that, at least not tonight. He had said he did not want to see her again. Best case, he would want her to remain in their rooms until he was ready to get rid of her. And if what Solange suspected were true, that the toxin was ready for distribution, the time was near.
Chari would want everyone disposed of, all loose ends neatly tied up. Jack just hoped he was the one appointed executioner when the time came. At least he would have a weapon in his hands. He hefted the one he held now and thought about going ahead with the task and including Chari in the sweep.
He had a strong feeling it would be foolish to risk waiting any longer for information he might never get. His gut was telling him to move and move soon. But he couldn't do it at the end of his shift. He needed a little time to prepare Solange and René for the showdown so they wouldn't get in his way and get hurt.
That would mean operating with no weapon, taking them out one at the time. Not a problem if he could somehow get around the cameras and maintain the element of surprise. The guards were not issued weapons unless they were on duty. The weapons room was kept locked until change of shift, and Piers kept the key. Of all the guards, only he carried one all the time.
Help would be good. Jack only hoped Eric was awake and alert. He focused his whole mind in the direction of Tournade.
Noon. Be here at noon. Arrive in force. Jack thought the words repeatedly until other thoughts, other worries intruded. It was damned difficult to keep everything else blanked out even for the few seconds it took. All the channels of his mind were surely scrambling one another.
He took a deep breath, tried a little meditation, then went at it again, knowing he was trying too hard, that it was highly unlikely that even a truly gifted psychic could make any sense of it. Get the word noon, if nothing else! he projected with a final blast of thought.
Damn. This was useless. Here he was with an automatic in his hands, trying to summon backup with his mind. It went against all his training and seemed patently ridiculous. He should go down those stairs, blow away the bad guys and let the chips fall where they may. But it was too soon for that.
There had to be someone else, someone with more brains than Chari, inside the chateau directing this drama, someone with an unknown agenda. Suppose that man was the one freak in this sideshow willing to die for his cause. Then what?
One final attempt should be made to discover the identity of the one in charge. Jack decided if he had not done that by noon, he would wind this up, anyway.
When the sun came up and his shift was over, Jack reluctantly handed over his weapon and handset to his replacement and went back to his room. It was almost time for breakfast and he needed to speak with Solange and René to get them ready for what was going down in a few hours.
The instant he entered he knew something was wrong. René was not in his room and neither was Solange. They were not in the other bedroom, either, and the door to the bathroom was closed. Water was running.
He rattled the doorknob. "Solange?"
Locked, but he heard the immediate snick of the key as it turned. Her hand snaked out and grabbed his arm, pulling him inside. She closed the door, almost slammed it behind him and stood against it, pointing to René and the instrument he was holding to his ear. "What? What is that?"
"An infant monitor," she whispered. "René managed to plant the other part in Chari's study after you went on guard. He remembered the thing being in the box with his old toys and we thought it was worth trying. He took the batteries out of—"
René put a finger to his lips and handed the receiver over to Jack. "Listen!"
Jack grabbed it. The voice sounded scratchy, but readily identifiable. Piers was speaking.
"...see how effective it is before they implement it abroad. The festival today is perfect."
"No. The formula is viable now, I tell you! We need no further tests. Three have succumbed to it with minimal contact. I say we proceed as planned," argued another voice, definitely French. A native, but not Chari. Here was the unknown quantity.
Then Chari did enter into the mix. "I agree with Brus. Not in Tournade. That would be madness, Piers! Who do you think will be the primary suspect if we test it there? Who is the one resident of this area of Iranian descent, eh? Do not be an imbecile!"
A loud smack and a cry of pain ensued.
"Tournade," Piers declared. "Go and get it for me now. I will leave here at nine. The crowd will be gathering by that time for the day's activities. We will spread it for maximum contact and be out of there in less than half an hour. Both of you pack up and be ready to move out by the time I return."
"Leave?" Chari demanded. "I cannot leave here now!"
"You will. In the twenty-four hours before the symptoms appear, we can each depart separately and reunite in Greece as planned. When news of the attack is announced, our buyer will have his verification and bring us the balance payment."
"This is a waste of time," the stranger
said, but it was a quiet objection, not strident as before.
When Solange's hand tugged at his arm, Jack shot her a questioning look.
"That is Belclair," she whispered, "the chemist."
So this was a triumvirate, Jack thought, with Piers at the head. What was his agenda? Money, of course, but it seemed to Jack that if the toxin was ready, as the chemist had confirmed, this little test run was indeed an unnecessary risk for them to take.
Three had succumbed. That would have been the two agents sent in undercover by French intelligence and perhaps the lab assistant whom Solange had replaced.
If they proceeded with this test at the local festival, the trail would inevitably lead to Chari. The world knew his face because of his notoriety with the films. When taken into custody and questioned, he could expose them all. Either Piers did not care or he intended to eliminate the weak link before anything really hit the fan.
The voices had gone silent. A door slammed. Jack gripped René's shoulder. "Is there anywhere you and Solange can conceal yourselves inside the chateau until I wrap this up?"
René was already shaking his head. "Not without the camera picking us up as we go. When I planted the monitor, I didn't even try to avoid being seen. I simply marched into the study, plunked down in a chair and demanded a moment of my father's time. He ordered me back to my room, but not before I slipped the monitor under the chair." He grinned. "That was brilliant, was it not?"
Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. "Brilliant, but highly risky." He had to admit it was a stroke of genius, though he might never have agreed to the plan if he had been consulted.
He would have to work fast. It was nearly eight o'clock now. Piers would be leaving for Tournade with the toxin at nine.
It was highly likely that Martine and Joe would be attending that festival. Will would almost surely be there to see whether Chari or Piers would turn up at the postal facility or the grocers. They would be as much at risk as the rest of the population if the ricin vaccine didn't protect against the new substance.
Stopping Piers was the first order of business. He grabbed Solange's hand. "Can you drive?"
She nodded briskly. "Anything with wheels."
"Good. You'll come with me. René? You are to create a distraction. Any kind, the bigger the better. Draw as much attention here as you possibly can. See if you can do something to set off the smoke alarms. That should bring the guards off the roof."
"Now?"
"Right now," Jack agreed. Then he turned to Solange. "You be ready to run. We are heading for the kitchen. The keys to the vehicles are kept in a locked cabinet. I'll break it open and give them all to you."
"All? Oh, so they can't follow?"
He nodded. "At least it will slow them down. I'll disable the two guarding the back entrance. You run to the garage, take whatever wheels are nearest the entrance, find the keys that fit and drive straight to the house in Tournade. Warn the team what Piers plans so they can intercept him outside the village. And have them call in some backup for me. Got it?"
"Got it! I will hurry!" she replied. "Jacques, please—"
"Be careful, I know. Same goes," he ordered with a quick brush of his hand over her shoulder. "Remember, I love you."
Her eyes went wide at his hasty confession. "You never said..." Her smile appeared, then wavered, as an horrendous noise erupted from the adjacent bedroom.
Heavy metal music shook the very walls, and when they exited the bathroom, smoke billowed through both bedrooms. René was taking his orders very seriously.
Smoke alarms screamed, and the door to the bedroom slammed against the wall. The cacophony was deafening.
Jack pulled Solange along the wall, hoping to encounter René and send him with her to Tournade, but he couldn't see a damned thing. Where the hell was he?
"René!" he called. "Get outside!"
No answer, or if there was he couldn't hear it. He would just have to hope that René had somehow formed his own plan of escape.
When they reached the opening to the corridor, Jack urged Solange out into the hallway and down to her knees. They scrambled to the kitchen, smoke rising above them, creating a screen.
Several men rushed past, probably headed for the bedrooms, unable to see the two of them for all the smoke.
When they got into the kitchen, Jack saw the back door standing open. Apparently the two guards stationed there were the same ones who had hurried right by him and Solange in the hallway.
Jack grabbed a meat mallet from the counter and smashed the key box. He snagged the four key rings off their hooks and shoved them into Solange's outstretched hands.
"Hurry!" he commanded, kissing her swiftly and hard and pushing her out the back door. She ran like hell.
With a brief and fervent prayer for her, he turned back to finish his mission.
He halted at the door to the room where the weapons were stored and struck the padlock with the mallet. After three blows, the aged hasp gave way.
He had just reached inside to liberate one of the automatics when an arm snaked around his neck and jerked him backward.
Jack whirled, breaking the hold, locking on the wrist of the hand that held the weapon.
They struggled for it. The gun tumbled to the floor.
"Help! Todi! Weapons room!"
The loud shout brought a clatter of footfalls on the flagstones of the smoky kitchen.
Through the noise of the scuffle, Jack tried to listen for the roar of an engine.
If he could delay them long enough, Solange would have a chance to make it.
Chapter 12
The chambering of a round alerted Jack just in time to turn, using his attacker as a shield when the second guard fired. He pushed the dead man at the shooter, plunging them both away from him.
Todi, the one who fired, fell backward, cracked his head on the sharp corner of the tiled table. Jack figured he was dead by the time he hit the floor.
The shots would bring reinforcements. Jack grabbed the Beretta out of Todi's lax fingers, checked the load and started back down the smoke-filled corridor to find René.
"Jacques!"
He turned to find Solange silhouetted in the doorway of the kitchen, car keys still in her hand.
"I heard shots! Are you hurt?"
"Get out of here!" he ordered. "Go! I'll get René."
"I'm coming with you. The garage is locked and none of these keys fit. The only vehicle outside it is empty of petrol."
"Stay behind me," he snapped, and headed down the corridor to the bedrooms.
The boy was on his knees near his bedroom door, coughing and trying to crawl out. Flames had engulfed the draperies and the bed. Jack stuck the pistol in the back of his belt, scooped René up and headed back out.
"Where...where is Solange? Did she get away?" René gasped. "Will she...bring the police?"
Suddenly cold metal slammed against Jack's temple. He halted, René in his arms, still gasping. Solange lay on the floor unconscious.
"Police? You have betrayed me!" Chari shouted, wild with fury. "Bring René in there! Into the study!"
"Are you mad? The fire!" Jack protested. "We have to get out of here now before it spreads. Take René and let me get the woman, Chari. Please!"
René was already wriggling out of his grasp. Jack released his legs so he could stand. Ignoring the threat of Chari's pistol, Jack crouched down and lifted Solange in his arms.
"To the study! All of you," Chari yelled again, prodding Jack with the gun.
When they reached it, Chari stepped around him and opened the door,, the gun still positioned to blow off Jack's head.
Jack hurried through, fearing they would be trapped. The study windows were solidly barred. But not those above the ground floor in the tower, he remembered René telling him.
As soon as he could put Solange down, he would have to disarm Chari and get them the hell out of here.
"Downstairs," Chari directed. He waved the gun dangerously as he backed to the do
or that led into the tower.
Jack realized the man was not in control. His eyes were wild and his hand shaking. It would be a miracle if he didn't shoot one of them accidentally.
René maneuvered his way between Jack and his father, practically breathing down Jack's collar as they descended the steps.
All the way down, Jack could hear Chari behind them, muttering and cursing to himself.
"Use your gun," René said, prodding the weapon Jack had in his belt. "Take me hostage," he rasped, coughing again as he spoke. "I do not think he will—"
"Shh," Jack warned. There wasn't a damned thing he could do right now with Solange in his arms.
"Inside!" Chari demanded, pushing past them to open the door at the bottom of the stairwell.
Jack entered the laboratory. This dismal cellar was where Solange had worked, he realized, automatically scanning the lab for another exit, then remembered she had told him there wasn't one.
How he regretted he had involved her in this. A delicate little doctor with no experience in this sort of thing. What the hell had he been thinking? Now look at her. He did and noticed that her eyes were open. She was probably in shock, definitely dazed.
She raised one hand and rubbed the back of her head where Chari must have hit her with the pistol.
Jack gently set her on her feet and took her hand, squeezing it hard, then letting it go. "Be ready," he warned her in English. Chari was still aiming at them, keeping them in his peripheral vision.
There were two doors opposite the one they had entered. One was closed. At the other a very large man stood in the opening, his hands propped on either side of the door frame. Others—Jack could not see how many—were moving around inside working at something.
René was still hacking up smoke and shaking. That seemed to bring Solange back to reality. She moved closer and rested her hand on the boy's shoulder.
The fat guy had heard them enter and swerved around. "Get in here and grab a canister. We are not leaving without these containers. They are promised."
Chari issued a short bark of bitter laughter. "I'm not touching that, Belclair!"
