Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

P ARIS

Brunelle arrived just as the tactical team was getting ready to make entry. A plainclothes agent had quietly awakened the building's concierge and gotten the key for Amir's apartment. There would be no need for battering rams or blowing doors off hinges—although the team was prepared for such eventualities if they became necessary.

Falling in at the rear of the stack, Brunelle followed the team up the stairs. They paused just outside Amir's door.

Because this was a dynamic entry, speed, surprise, and domination were the goals.

When the team leader gave the signal, the breacher slipped the key into the lock and twisted it slowly to the left. When the lock released, he pushed the door open and stood aside, at which point the team flooded into the apartment.

They found Amir in the second of the two bedrooms, sitting in his underwear and a T-shirt at his computer. The tactical team yelled at him to get down on the floor.

Once they had him secured with flex cuffs, they slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth, yanked a hood down over his head, and began bagging up all of his computer equipment.

Brunelle helped with the search of the apartment, making certain that the officers had also retrieved Amir's phone. From start to finish, the entire operation had taken less than six minutes.

As they prepared to leave the apartment, a call came over the radio from the plainclothes agent outside. Gibert had arrived. Brunelle told the agent that she'd be right down.

After issuing a handful of instructions to the team, she exited the building and found Gibert standing near his car.

"Plainclothes lookout," he said, nodding toward the agent. "Another in an unmarked tactical van double-parked down the street. Obviously, you're here for a party. The only question—is it about to start, or is it already over?"

"A little bit of both," Brunelle admitted as she looked at her watch. "Listen, I need a favor and I don't have a lot of time."

Gibert laughed. "Of course you do. Why else would you call me up in the middle of the night and tell me you needed to see me right away. What's the favor?"

Wanting to get out of earshot of the plainclothes agent, she asked, "Can we walk?"

The cop agreed. As they walked, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and offered her one. She accepted. He lit hers and then his own.

Brunelle took a deep drag.

Satisfied that the plainclothes agent was far enough away, she exhaled and said, "I know why Jadot was murdered."

Gibert was stunned. "Why?"

"Powell was right."

"The CIA station chief?"

Brunelle nodded. "Remember when he said that Jadot was worried the Russians might have burrowed deep into the French government? He was spot-on. It's bad."

"How bad?"

"The Russians have spies inside the ministries of Interior, Armed Forces, Justice, Foreign Affairs, and Finance. Jadot uncovered evidence that even the DGSI and the DGSE have been compromised."

"My God," the cop exclaimed. "That is bad. Very bad."

"It gets worse. Jadot also implicated one of the president's closest advisors, the minister of foreign affairs. It's a shitstorm and there's not going to be an umbrella big enough to protect any of these people. Jadot found all the receipts—bank statements, money transfers, all of it."

"And this was what he was bringing to Powell? This is why he had asked for the breakfast? The one he never showed up for?"

Once again, Brunelle nodded. "Somehow, someone figured out that he was onto it and had him killed."

"With an ice axe," said Gibert. "Just like Trotsky."

"Sends a message, doesn't it? When you cross Russia, you do so at your peril. "

"A hell of a message," the cop agreed. Taking his cigarette out of his mouth, he picked a piece of tobacco off his tongue. "Where'd all this information come from?"

Brunelle held up the key-fob flash drive she had taken from Jadot's apartment. "From this."

"What's that?"

Taking it apart she showed him. "I removed it from Jadot's key ring."

"After lecturing me on professionalism? After I told you not to touch anything at the crime scene? Jesus, you really are a piece of work. When were you going to tell me?"

"As soon as I knew whether it had any value, which is why you're standing here right now."

"And what exactly is going on here?" he asked.

"When I figured out that the fob was a flash drive, I set MoMo loose on cracking it. When he couldn't crack it, he overstepped and, without permission, brought it to someone who could. That someone is about to be escorted out of the building with a bag over his head."

"You're taking him into custody?"

"These are exigent circumstances," she replied. "He needs to be kept someplace quiet. Someplace safe. At least until we can figure all of this out."

"Even for you, Karine, this is really pushing the outer edge."

"I'm just trying to do my job. But I can't do this part alone. Will you help me?"

The cop feigned ignorance. "Help you with what?"

"You're going to make me say it?"

"No," said Gibert, fishing for his phone, "I'm going to record you saying it. Just to cover my ass. I'm not losing my career over this."

"Can we please take two seconds and not make this about you?"

"About me ? You're the one who's asking for a piece of crime scene evidence to be logged as if it never went astray."

"Not just logged," she replied, acutely aware that she was pushing her luck. "I'm also going to need it backdated and cataloged as having been signed out to me for analysis."

"Is that all?" Gibert dryly asked.

"Vincent, if Jadot is correct, this isn't just a colossal breach of national security, it's one of the biggest scandals in French history. If we can't use what's on that drive, then the Russians will have won."

The cop remained quiet and took another pull on his cigarette.

After several moments of uncomfortable silence, she gave in. "Okay," she said, "you're right. I shouldn't have removed the drive from the crime scene. I'm sorry. Happy?"

"No," he replied. "I'm not happy about any of this. But I am going to help you. There's just one small thing I want in return."

Brunelle didn't like the sound of that. She had little choice in the matter, however. Without Gibert's cooperation, she was dead in the water.

"Fine," she replied, as the DGSI's unmarked van rolled up and double-parked in front of the building. They were about to bring out Amir. She needed to get going. "What do you want in return?"

"It doesn't matter now," the cop replied. "When all of this is over, I'll tell you what it is. Until then, I expect you to honor your word. You keep me in the loop. Understand? The moment you track down the Russians' getaway car, or you learn anything else about Jadot's killer, I want to know about it. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," Brunelle replied.

With that behind her, she turned and moved quickly back to the tactical team. What lay ahead at the DGSI command center would be some of the most difficult and important work she had ever done. The implications of taking down so many members of the French government were practically unfathomable.

On top of that, they still needed to locate the getaway car and apprehend Jadot's killer.

As the team loaded Amir into the van, Brunelle climbed in behind him, praying that nothing came along to screw any of it up.