The Flinck Connection (Book 4) (Genevieve Lenard) (26 page)

I screamed a warning, but no one heard my wheezy whisper above the air raid alarms. I dropped to the floor, and as I did in Vinnie’s truck, closed my eyes tightly and covered my head with my arms, hoping to minimise the effect from the grenades.
No sooner had I pressed my arms firmly against my ears than three consecutive explosions followed.

Irrationally, I wondered if Francine’s soundproof basement had kept the loud noises from alerting the neighbours and hopefully bringing law enforcement to our aid. There was only a second of stunned silence before more noise erupted. It was overwhelming in its intensity. Julie let out a high-pitched scream, men shouted and I heard the distinct sounds of punches and grunts.

I lifted my head from the safety of my arms, shocked by the change in our situation. To my right and close to the sofa, Manny and Daniel were held at gunpoint by a man I recognised as one of the thugs who’d attacked Vinnie in the narrow street. He was joined by three other gunmen.

One of those was the second man from Vinnie’s attack, currently standing behind the president and Isabelle, the barrel of his gun pushed against the back of the president’s head. The presidential couple was standing directly across from me, the seven-metre distance between us feeling like a kilometre. Next to Isabelle, Luc was on his knees, pressing his hand hard against his head, blood seeping through his fingers. The gunman had a second gun aimed at Luc.

Colin was crouched next to me, his hands over his ears. He was blinking profusely and shaking his head in annoyance. On the other side of the room, Henri was holding a trembling and crying Julie, also blinking fast in an attempt to regain his sight after the blinding light from the flash grenades. Minister Lefebvre was rubbing his one ear, but looked otherwise much less affected than everyone else.

Both Francine and Pink were in still their chairs, but were turned to the chaos in the room. Francine’s expression was changing from shock to rage as she absorbed everything, her muscles tensing up. Pink put his arm out to stop her from
getting up. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and slumped in his chair. The
orbicularis oculi
muscles contracted around Francine’s eyes a millisecond before she copied Pink’s posture. Both looked powerless and scared as the third gunman aimed his semi-automatic rifle at them.

“So nice of you to have a party for me, Doctor Lenard.” Dukwicz walked past Minister Lefebvre, sneered at Manny and stopped in front of me. “So many people for me to play with.”

I knew the type of playing he referred to was not about fun or games. Nor was it anything like the intellectual riddles Kubanov enjoyed. Dukwicz was a predator who enjoyed terrorising his prey. Weary of the constant fear weighing me down, I slowly stood up. I didn’t want to give this man any more pleasure by cowering at his feet.

When Colin pushed himself up to stand next to me, Dukwicz raised his gun and aimed it at my head. “Anyone try anything and I pull this trigger. Before Doctor Lenard’s lifeless body hits the floor, my friend behind me will also pull the trigger, dropping the president. Everyone clear on that? Or is someone going to make it more fun for me and try to be a hero?”

I knew he wasn’t addressing me, but I felt the need to shake my head. A sideways glance confirmed that Daniel, Luc and Manny’s holsters were empty. In the time Dukwicz and his associates had entered the room, they had not only overpowered all the trained law enforcement agents, but had also disarmed them. No matter how extensive the training, if caught by surprise, a second or two is all someone needed to gain advantage.

I didn’t know whether Pink had come here armed, or if he still had a weapon. Dressed in civilian clothes and slouching in his chair, he didn’t exhibit any cues that he had a weapon or that he was able to take action.

With every breath, it became harder to keep the panic at bay. I couldn’t see a solution to this situation. We were completely at the mercy of a ruthless assassin and three heavily armed men. I didn’t know if it were even possible to reason with him. But it might be possible to reason with the person behind this, the person giving Dukwicz orders. Ignoring the tremors of fear washing over my body, I slowly turned my head until I looked at Minister Lefebvre. His attempt at fear and looking like a hostage was hugely unsuccessful.

“You’re responsible for this.” It was painful to speak and I wasn’t sure if anyone could hear me after the loud explosion. “You’re the fifth man, the photographer. You’re the one who put the camera in Minister Savreux’s office. You’re the one who ordered Savreux’s murder and who ordered us away from investigating his case.”

It was quiet in the basement. I had spoken slowly, hoping that Manny and Colin could read my lips even if they couldn’t hear me. Minister Lefebvre took a step to the side, away from Henri and Julie. This time his smirk stayed. “Well, aren’t you just clever. Think you have everything figured out?”

“Antoine?” The president spoke louder than normal. “What’s happening?”

Minister Lefebvre’s top lip curled as he faced the president. “You still don’t see it, do you, Ray?”

“You?” The pain of betrayal was clear on President Godard’s face. “You... We... Why?”

“Honestly? Because you’re such a bleeding heart, Raymond. You’re forever hoping that people will be good and kind and moral. I remember when you first started at FGMB, my colleagues told me you were always fighting for the underdog. Good thing I got out before you joined FGMB. I would’ve had you for breakfast.”

“Wait.” President Godard frowned. “I remember now. You worked at FGMB before I joined. You left after you lost that case to the American lawyer. That was in the late eighties, right? Wasn’t that lawyer from Boston? Oh, God. Antoine, did you rob the Gardner museum?”

Minister Lefebvre shrugged. “I was proving a point to that obnoxious, loud Yank.”

“I trusted you.” While the president continued to express his dismay at Minister Lefebvre’s treachery, I looked around the basement. A few metres from me, Manny’s shoulders were hunched in absolute defeat. From his lowered eyelids, he sharply surveyed the room, careful not to give himself away.

Daniel was unable to appear defeated or uninterested, though he was successful in making his anger come across as fear. The slight trembling in his hands, his accelerated breathing and muscle tension could easily be misconstrued by an untrained eye. When he looked at Luc, I had to concentrate hard to control my reaction.

I glanced at Dukwicz to ensure he hadn’t noticed any of my involuntary micro-expressions. He hadn’t. Still aiming his weapon at my forehead, he was like everyone else watching the sad confrontation taking place between the president and the minister. His distraction gave me the freedom to observe the strange communication happening between Manny, Daniel, Luc and Pink.

I wasn’t able to understand the countless nonverbal cues being communicated between them. I read people’s body language and interpreted the emotions behind their micro-expressions. These four men seemed to be communicating messages, not emotions. It was Francine who communicated emotions when she was able to catch Manny’s attention by frantically moving her little finger in what she told me was a ‘pinkie-wave’.

“And that is why you shouldn’t be president.” Minister Lefebvre stepped closer to the centre of the room, bringing my attention back to their oddly polite argument. “You’re so naïve. No secrets. Hah. Politics is built on secrets, my friend.”

“No.” Despite the barrel of the gun pressing against his skull, the president shook his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. “You are no friend of mine.”

“Friends don’t do this to each other.” Isabelle said through her teeth. Luc shifted slightly, but stayed on his knees. He looked towards Francine and Pink, and blinked slowly.

“Ah, Isabelle.” Lefebvre’s smile was cruel, his tone disparaging. “It will be such a pity that you died with your husband. Especially since you are the cause for all of this and justice won’t be served by sending you to rot in jail. The good people of France will be devastated to find out that you dragged your husband to this basement to help hide your secrets. And such delicious secrets they are. Conspiring with the president of Gabon to bring down officials, stealing money and using a charity to launder it? Tsk, Tsk. The nation will be disappointed in their golden girl.”

“You set this all up.” Isabelle sounded breathless. “You created that false account to make it look as if I was taking money to help sway my husband’s political decisions. You’re vile.”

“No need for name calling, my dear. Your loyal supporters will be so hurt to find out their Mother Theresa was nothing but a fraud. Someone who associated with lowlife criminals like art thieves and hackers.” He stepped back, nodding at Dukwicz. “When some killers came looking for your hacker friend in her basement, you and the president were collateral damage. Hmm. Yes. This will suffice. The media will lap that story up. Of course, the Minister of Justice will be completely horrified at the death of his friend and role model, and of the betrayal of a woman he had held in high regard. Such a pity.” He nodded slowly at the president. “Goodbye Raymond. Isabelle.”

He took another step back, towards the door. From the corner of my eye, I saw Manny gesture, but didn’t have time to analyse it. The basement was suddenly dumped in complete darkness, disorienting in its unexpected lack of light. A gunshot broke the silence and I dropped to the ground, making myself as small a target as possible. All around me, I heard fighting, punches hitting flesh, grunts, four more gun shots and a lot of shouting.

I hugged my knees to my chest, feeling a shutdown coming on, but I fought it. Even though the darkness from my shutdowns was much kinder than this claustrophobic lack of light in Francine’s basement, I didn’t want to lose control. I started counting the seconds, giving my mind something tangible to focus on. Listening to the violence transpiring around me, I gave in to the need to count out loud, pushing the sounds past my tender vocal cords.

When I reached four hundred and twenty-three seconds, the lights came back on. I continued counting. I had to. What had been a cluttered basement before, now was in complete disarray. But that wasn’t what caused me to cling onto the numbers. It was the blood splatter on the floor and walls. A few centimetres from my feet a small pool of blood drew me in until I had to blink to not feel like I was falling into it. I leaned back, still staring at it. Someone had slipped through the blood, the bloody shoeprint continuing to the door.

Whose blood was this? The realisation that one of my friends could be injured made me wildly look around the basement. Pink was helping the president off the floor, both of them unharmed. Luc already had Isabelle standing up, making sure she didn’t have any injuries. His head wound was still bleeding, but looked less serious than it had appeared earlier. Henri and Julie were both sitting on the man who had pushed his weapon against the president’s skull. Julie was hysterically hitting the man’s back, shouting obscenities at him.

To my right, Daniel pushed his knees hard into the back of the man who’d had him and Manny at gunpoint. He took a computer cord from one of the boxes and tied the man’s hands. Manny was taking similar action with Minister Lefebvre, handling him rather roughly and tightening the computer cord until the older man grunted. By the computers, Francine was smiling down maliciously at the man who had aimed his gun at her. He was on the floor at her feet, both his hands over his groin, pain evident on his face.

Next to me, Colin stood motionless, his face void of colour. I gasped when I saw his expression, my need to count lost in the face of the horror written on his face. I jumped up, searching his body for injuries. There was none. I stepped into his line of vision, forcing him to look away from the blood on the floor. He slowly lifted his eyes and swallowed. “I shot him, Jenny. I shot a man.”

“Who did you shoot?” I forced out a loud whisper and winced at the pain.

He glanced down at the gun hanging loosely in his hand. “Dukwicz.”

“Where is he?” I knew that despite Colin’s criminal past, he had a deep dislike of force. The manner in which he was now staring at the gun was worrisome. “Colin?”

He shook his head as if he’d surfaced from a deep dive and looked at me. “I grabbed his gun when the lights went off. We struggled and the gun went off. If he’s not here, I suppose he got out.”

“Dukwicz’s is gone.” Manny was no longer slouching. He pushed the minister to his knees and ordered him to stay. Manny looked around the room. “Everyone okay? Any injuries?”

“I think this man might consider gender reassignment surgery.” Francine’s smile widened as she rested her booted foot on the man’s hands, causing him to whimper.

“Not them, supermodel. You.”

“Oh.” She looked down at herself. “I’m fine, handsome. Damn fine.”

“Anyone got shot?”

Francine pointed behind her. “One of my computers is dead.”

“Hmm. Doc? You all right?”

I blinked a few times before I nodded. I had suffered no injuries, but the mental strain of the past few days was building to a climax. My concern for Colin was adding to the pressure tightening around my chest.

“Jenny, look at me.” Colin took my hand in his. “I’m fine. Just a little shook up, but I’m fine. Take deep breaths and hold on. I need you with me, okay?”

He was lying. One of the very few times Colin had lied to me and I suspected it was to keep me calm. Colin was more than just a little affected by shooting Dukwicz, but he was sincere when he’d said he needed me. This triggered defiance in me and I straightened my shoulders. I pulled my hands out of his, ignoring the small but genuine smile lifting the corners of his mouth.