Wanted: A Leopold Blake Thriller (11 page)

Chapter 19
 
 

PEERING THROUGH THE Yukon Ranger Pro night vision scope, Dieter Reiniger contemplated the carnage unfolding in front of him. Sitting in the relative safety of his black VW two blocks from the
Commissariat Central
, the assassin could make out the action as though he were just a few feet away, all rendered in sharp focus through the high-resolution LCD display.

Blake and the French girl had somehow managed to escape onto the roof and across to the adjacent building, but the bodyguard was nowhere to be seen. Reiniger counted himself lucky for that small mercy. Mary Jordan had shown up, as expected, meaning she and Blake would attempt to regroup somewhere close by.

Reiniger lowered the monocular and took a deep breath. The building next to the police headquarters looked like a regular office complex, the perfect place for Blake and the others to rendezvous undetected. Thankfully, it was also the perfect place to put an end to this mess and get the mission back on track. There was still time.

Stowing the scope in the glove box, the assassin swung open the driver’s door and stepped out into the street, resting his hand against the gun holstered beneath his jacket. Making his way toward the chaos ahead, he ran through the plan in his mind. By the time he reached the Fontaine Saint-Sulpice, Reiniger knew one thing for sure – Blake and his friends weren’t making it out of the building alive.

Chapter 20
 
 

THE AUTOMATIC LIGHTS kicked out a flood of luminescence as Leopold stepped into the deserted hallway. The office building had been easy enough to breach thanks to a poorly-secured skylight, and most of the interior doors were unlocked. In the harsh neon light, Leopold could understand why – most of the offices were stripped bare, leaving empty expanses of dusty carpet and rows of deserted cubicles.

“What is this place?” whispered Sophie, as they made their way through the corridor.

“Looks like whoever was here moved on a long time ago. Did you send Mary our rendezvous point?”

“
Oui
, but what if the police pick up my SMS?”

“When they check for cell phone usage, it’ll take them some time to sift through the background noise. By which time, we’ll be long gone.”

“Gone where?”

He ignored her question. Turning a corner, Leopold noticed a stairwell door at the end of the hallway and waved Sophie forward.
 

“The parking basement is this way.” He led Sophie down the bare concrete steps at speed, their footsteps echoing against the cold walls as they descended into the belly of the abandoned office block. Leopold could taste the dust and damp, the unmistakable scent of neglect hanging heavy in the air.

“How will she get in?” Sophie asked, as they reached the bottom and made for the door. “This place is locked up.”

“She’s a cop, so I doubt she’ll have much of a problem breaking into an empty building. Just hope the police don’t get the same idea.” He rattled the handle. “Locked. Dammit.”

“You’ve not had much luck with doors today.” She stepped forward.

He caught the faint scent of her perfume as she passed and felt his spirits lift momentarily. He shook it off.

“Looks like we’re going to have to find another way out,” she said, leaning hard against the door. “This thing won’t move.”

“Looks like lady luck’s decided to leave us both hung out to dry.”

“So melodramatic,” said Sophie, rolling her eyes. “Maybe we can –” A sudden noise cut her off.

Glancing down, Leopold saw the door handle shake violently. He took a step back. “Get behind me and keep quiet.”

“Hey!” she protested as Leopold yanked her backward.

“Shh. Try to resist the urge to open your mouth for once.”

Fuming, Sophie bit her lip and complied. The door handle shook again, faster this time, and Leopold heard a loud
thump
from the other side of the wall. He tensed, ready to move.

“What do we do?” she hissed.

Leopold raised his finger to his lips, keeping his eyes fixed on the doorway. He caught the faint but unmistakable sound of metal on metal, then a series of clicks. The sound of lock tumblers falling into place.

“Get ready.” He put his hand on Sophie’s shoulder.

“For what?”

The door flew open. Leopold saw a sinewy figure stride toward them, obscured by the shadows. His fists clenched tight, he waited for the right moment. He could make out the figure’s face in the dull light. A face he recognized.

“Mary?” He stepped forward. “What the hell took you so long?”

Mary whipped around. “Dammit, don’t do that,” she snapped. “It’s bad enough I’ve got to find my way around this creepy place in the dark. I don’t need people jumping out of the shadows at me.”

Leopold raised his palms. “Okay, okay. Can you get us out of here?”

“There’s an old access hatch that leads up to street level, just across the other side of the parking lot. The lock was practically rusted off. We should be able to get out onto the main road without being spotted. Assuming the police haven’t decided to broaden their search perimeter, that is.”

“As far as they know we’re still running around inside the station. But they’ll figure it out eventually.”

“We’d better get going then.” She paused, glancing down at Sophie. “Who’s this?”

“Mary Jordan, meet Sophie Bardot,” said Leopold, helping the art restorer to her feet. “I’m sure you’ll get along just fine.”

“Save the pleasantries for later,” said Mary, looking Sophie up and down. “Follow me.”

Setting at a brisk pace, the NYPD sergeant led the way through into the gloomy parking lot. “Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on?” she asked, not breaking her stride. “And what happened to Jerome?”

“It’s a long story,” said Leopold.

“Then tell it quickly.”

“I was hired to consult for the Louvre. While I was there, I discovered a major security flaw and informed the art director. Jerome and I left to speak with
Mademoiselle
Bardot, which is when I got the call.”

“What call?”

“The art director was murdered shortly after we left the museum. The police got hold of my cell phone number and asked me down to the station.”

“Jesus, Leopold, what are you getting me into? And why the hell did you bring her along?”

“She insisted.”

Mary shook her head. “You’re kidding me. Where do you find these people?”

“We were taken into an interview room,” Leopold continued, ignoring her. “They told us a fingerprint had been found near the murder scene. My fingerprint. You can figure out the rest.”

“So this is a frame job?”

“Looks like it.”

“But why?”

“That’s what we need to figure out,” said Leopold. “I’ll need you to pull some favors. Think you can do that without raising any red flags?”

“If I act fast, sure.”

He nudged Mary as they walked. “Just like old times.”

“Don’t get cute.”

“
Excusez-moi
,” said Sophie. “Can we do this later? I want answers too, don’t forget that.”

“Just let me handle this,” said Mary. “Keep close behind and try to stay quiet.”

“Let’s just try to keep this civil, shall we?” said Leopold.

“Don’t talk to me about civil; I’m not the one bossing everyone around,” said Sophie. “Why should I have to listen to her?”  

“Shh.” Mary hissed, stopping in her tracks. “Keep still and don’t make a sound.”

“Why?”

Mary’s gaze locked onto something. Something Leopold couldn’t make out.

“There’s someone else here.”

Chapter 21
 
 

REINIGER TIGHTENED HIS grip on his firearm, his index finger brushing the trigger. In the cool darkness of the subterranean parking lot, the assassin watched his quarry approach. It had been too easy to follow the lady cop. She hadn’t even been paying attention. But now something seemed to have caught her eye.

Holding his position, Reiniger reminded himself that the human eye was nowhere near sensitive enough to pick out his shape in the shadows. Still twenty feet away, Reiniger calculated his targets’ angle of escape was too wide for him to cover properly with the handgun. The chances of one or more of them diving for cover was too high, and Reiniger didn’t relish the thought of chasing anyone around in the dark.

He shifted his gaze toward Blake and saw him take a step backward. The cop didn’t move a muscle. The assassin felt his pulse quicken, felt the adrenaline kick in.

Time to move
.

He surged forward, gun raised. “This is not the time to consider running.” His voice was calm and authoritative. “This can be over quickly and painlessly. Or, I can take my time with you. The choice is yours.”

No reply.

“Please, step out from behind Mr. Blake.” The assassin waved a gloved hand, beckoning the younger woman forward.

“Sophie, stay where you are,” the cop said. “He needs us to spread out so he can kill us quicker. He knows he doesn’t have time to take any chances.”

The bitch was right. Reiniger decided to kill her first. He pointed the gun at the cop’s forehead and squeezed the trigger. He felt the hammer cock.

“
Ne bougez pas
!” A voice from behind. A flurry of heavy footsteps.

The assassin whipped around and dropped to his knees, targeting the three armed police officers advancing across the empty lot. He brought the pistol up and fired a double tap, aiming for center mass. The rounds hit home, knocking the nearest target on his back, unconscious.

With a split second of purchased time, Reiniger considered his options. The response team would call for backup soon, if they hadn’t already, and more armed police were only seconds away. With more guns and body armor. The assassin knew he had only two choices – either kill Blake and the others and almost certainly be gunned down himself, or retreat. The latter option seemed preferable.

Instinct taking over, Reiniger dove behind a concrete pillar as the sound of gunfire erupted behind him. Peering into the gloom, Reiniger scanned the area for movement. A muzzle flash sent him ducking back for cover a split second before the bullet tore into the space where his head had been. The impact sent up a tiny plume of dust. A second and third shot kept him pinned. He knew the tactic well – the shooter’s partner would be moving in for the kill, relying on his teammate to provide a distraction.

Big mistake
.

Reiniger ducked to the side as another staccato flash lit up the parking lot. He closed his eyes and concentrated, listening for any sign of approach. Another shot, and the sound of bullets ricocheting off the walls. In between flashes the sound of heavy soles falling lightly on the ground.

Another shot.

Another flash.

Reiniger heard the scuffle again and tensed, his target no more than a couple of feet away. With the pistol still in his hand, the assassin stepped out from behind the pillar and attacked. Before the cop could react, Reiniger thrust the butt of his gun into the man’s throat and felt something crunch.