Ultimate Power (26 page)

Satisfied, he nodded his head and punched a number into his cell phone. "We're in position, Mr. Sonti."

"Very good, Mr. Eccles. GREEFF thanks you for your selfless actions in furthering the progress of our noble cause."

The man snorted. "You make sure you blow up the bastards, that'll be reward enough for me."

"Your money has been wired, Mr. Eccles."

He disconnected the call. Recession, my ass. The way the Bradwick Plant was spending money on Christmas lunches and company get-togethers, you would swear there had never been a recession. But they had retrenched his brother, Harry. And now Harry was dead.
 

No, they deserved what they had coming to them. With the money Sonti had promised him, he would open a trust fund for Trish and the kid. They wouldn't have to work another day in their lives.

He chuckled. Every dog gets his bone. Bradwick was going to get theirs shoved right up their asses. The nuclear power station was a mile away. Two shots should take it out. "Bastards," he mumbled and climbed into his car and sped away.

Hotel Auberge du Jeu de Paume,

Paris, France

13:30 PM

T Minus 17 Hours

The pilot had obtained permission to land in the hotel grounds after Laiveaux informed them that Grenard was staying over. A quick phone call confirmed that he was having lunch with a client on the lookout verandah and that he wished not to be disturbed.

Alexa jumped out before the helicopter had landed and strode towards the front door, slipping her dark glasses in her top pocket and tucking her bangs behind her ears. She was on a Ketamine high and she didn't want to be fucked with.

She flicked her Interpol badge at a young girl at reception. "I'm here to see Mr. Grenard."
 

The girl pointed up toward a marble staircase.
 

"Up there?" Alexa asked.

The girl nodded. "Fourth floor."

Alexa and Neil skipped up the stairs and entered a large dining area where a sign against the glass door said,
'Lookout Veranda'
in French. Alexa opened the door and walked inside. The place had been decorated in an Art Nouveau fashion, intricate polished wood furniture and gabled arches, patterned walls filled with copies of Alphonse Mucha paintings.

Lance Grenard was sitting, relaxing, in a high-backed chair, his leg folded over his knee. The young lady he was with was laughing, waving her hands animatedly as she spoke.

"Mr. Grenard?" Alexa said.

He turned in his chair and smiled. "What a pleasant surprise, Captain." He stood up and pointed to a chair. "Please join us."

Alexa wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She was feeling feverish. She sucked in a deep breath. "We found a video that you sent to Mr. Allan Sonti."

"Who?" He looked over Alexa's shoulder and called a waiter. "Never heard the name in my life" he said and beamed her a magnificent smile.

Alexa stepped closer, sticking a finger in his face. "Listen to me you prick, tell me where I can find Allan Sonti, now."

Grenard leaned back and held up his hand. "Look, I don't know who you're talking about. And please clean yourself up, you're dripping blood on the floor," he said with a disgusted look.

Alexa turned to Neil and he nodded. The young lady shrieked as Neil grabbed Grenard by his chest, following Alexa as she opened the balcony door.
 

"This is a nice place," Alexa said, leaning over the concrete railing. "Pity it isn't any higher, but four floors should do."
 

A smartly dressed guy with a thin mustache and slicked-back black hair approached them in a huff. The golden plaque on his chest said
Jacques Rossouw, Manager.
Alexa flashed her Interpol badge. "Stay out of this, we're here on official business."

The man nodded and bowed, walking backwards, wringing his hands, turned around and went inside.

She shifted her attention back to Gerard. "Do it, Neil."

Neil picked him up and heaved him over the railing, holding him by his belt and collar. The man dangled around, swinging his arms and legs, shrieking like a wild banshee.

"Hold, still or your belt will break," Neil said with a grunt.

"Now talk," Alexa said.

"Please, please, you don't know who you're dealing with," the man shrieked.

"Drop him Neil, I don't have time for this shit."

"Okay, okay, wait," the man shrieked. "All I know is he runs the largest movie production house in the States."

"So then he shouldn't be too difficult to get hold of," Neil said.

"He's impossible to contact."

"Give me his number," Alexa said.

The man fished his cell phone from his pocket. "It's under Sonti, take it."

"Thanks." Alexa pocketed the phone. "What else?"

Neil grunted. "You're getting heavy."

"It's pointless phoning him. He only answers his phone at pre-arranged times."

"Okay, drop him," Alexa said.

"Wait!" he shrieked. "He sent me an SMS, told me he would contact me tonight, that he had to go away for a couple of days."

"What time tonight?" Alexa asked.

"Seven-fifteen."

"Thanks Neil, that should do it."

Neil nodded and heaved the man back onto the balcony. He put him down and pulled his jacket straight and straightened his tie. "Thank you for your cooperation."

Grendard nodded nervously, brushing back his hair with his fingers, trying to regain his composure. "No problem."

Neil poked his chest with his finger. "One more thing."
 

The man gawked at Neil with a mixture of awe and fear. "Yes?"

"You better go clean yourself up. You're dripping piss all over the floor."

The man looked down and covered his crotch, embarrassed.
 

Alexa and Neil marched out as the eyes of Grenard's blond companion followed them, her mouth open in astonished surprise.

Alexa exited the hotel through the large revolving doors while punching a number into her phone and headed straight for the helipad. The pilot switched on the engines and the rotor blades spun slowly at first, picking up speed. "General, Grenard is expecting a call from Mr. Sonti, tonight."

"Okay, Captain."

"Could you please arrange for tracking equipment? I think I know of a way we could trace his call, even if he isn't on the phone for long enough."

"Okay, meet me at the Israeli Embassy," the general said.

"Why? Surely Interpol has all the resources we need?"

The general went quiet for a while. "I'm disgusted to say this, Alexa, but I don't trust this place anymore."

Alexa nodded. She knew what he meant. Every operation had been a screw-up, Rowley and his men had managed to infiltrate the offices. Someone was tipping them off.

Alexa nodded. "Okay, who's my contact?"

"Talk to the ambassador, a man by the name of Yadit Ben. Captain Eric Glist from Mossad will meet you in five hours."

Alexa nodded. She was glad that Glist would be handling the trace, he was top class. "Okay."

"I'll get him to fly in now. That should give him an hour to set up."

"Okay," Alexa said. "See you later, General."

"Au revoir, my girl. Oh, one more thing, Alexa."

"Yes, General?"

"You have done excellent work. I honestly didn't expect you to--"

"Thank you, General. I need to go, we're running out of time."

She disconnected the call and jumped into the cockpit next to the pilot. "Paris, Israeli Embassy."

Israeli Embassy,
 

Paris, France

07:05 PM
 

T minus 10 hours, 45 minutes

Glist fiddled with the wires on the tracing equipment, running them from the cell phones into what looked like a suitcase filled with an oversized and antiquated computer.

"You sure this will work, Captain?" Alexa asked, checking out the equipment skeptically. "You don't want me to phone the museum and ask for a Morse Code machine to compliment this marvel of modern technology?"

He chuckled, pushing his thick-framed glasses up onto his nose. "You don't want me to pop down to the supermarket and fetch Captain Kitty a saucer of milk?"

Alexa punched his arm.

"Ow, Captain," Glist said, rubbing his arm. He continued fiddling with the wires. "I needed to bring the old gear, the exchanges in Paris are still the old-fashioned analog type." He looked up and smiled. "The good news is, tracing the call should be easier now that we have two additional phones to track. Okay, I'm ready."
 

They sat down and waited.

Five minutes later Neil checked his watch. "Ready?" he asked and started counting down from five.
 

Lance Grenard's phone rang and Laiveaux swept it up. "Hello?"
 

Glist nodded his head and Alexa and Neil dialed Sonti's number, Eric Glist fiddling with buttons and dials.

"Who is this?" Sonti asked.

"This is General Alain Laiveaux, you bastard. Did you think you were going to get away with this?"

Sonti chuckled. "General Laiveaux? Is that you? So good to hear your voice. I was wondering where you were."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not at the Interpol HQ."

"Who gave you that information?"

Sonti sighed. "Where's Grenard?"

Laiveaux shook his head. "I don't know."

"Excuse me for a second, I seem to have another call waiting, General," Sonti said. Laiveaux heard Sonti curse and then the call disconnected. Laiveaux glanced at Glist. "Did you get it?"

The man nodded, his eyes large behind his thick glasses. "Yes, and you're not going to believe this."

"What?" Alexa asked.

"It came from the Presidential Palace."

Alexa fumbled for her phone in her pocket. She punched a number into the phone. "Bruce, the phone call from Sonti was traced to somewhere in the place."

He sounded distracted. "Ok, hang on a sec, Alexa."

Alexa heard a commotion in the background.

"I need to call you back."

"Bruce, what's going on?"

"I can't talk now, Alexa." The call disconnected.
 

"We need to get to the Palace," Alexa said, rushing out of the room.

Presidential Palace,
 

Paris, France

19:30 PM
 

T minus 10 hours, 30 minutes

Latorre dashed to the car as Alexa’s vehicle skidded to a halt in the graveled courtyard of the Palace. He yanked open her door and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the car. "He got Yumi."

"What? Who?" Alexa asked confused.

"James Rue. He grabbed her and he ran, and I chased them and he said he would shoot Yumi if I came any closer—“

Alexa grabbed Latorre's arm. "Oh my God, no!" Alexa shouted, shaking her head in denial. "You were supposed to look after her."

The man closed his eyes and nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yumi and I were watching a movie together, you know that one about the cave people?"

Alexa tried to control her breathing, she could feel her pulse throb in her temple. "You're wasting time, Lieutenant, get on with it."

"So James Rue comes in, holding a gun to Madam President's head. He points the gun at us and he says he wants Yumi to come with him. So he and the President have a big argument, she's like
You don't need to get Yumi involved in your sick plans
and
leave the girl, rather take me,
and I'm agreeing with her but the man refuses. So he fires a shot into the roof and Yumi jumps into Madam President's arms and he runs away with both of them, saying he'll kill Yumi and the President if I follow them."

"Shit," Alexa said clutching her throat, her eyes darting around the palatial compound. "Do you have any idea which way they went?"

She looked up as Bruce dashed through the door, his eyes wild. He had a large welt on his cheek.
 

"What happened?" Alexa asked, fighting back the tears.
 

Bruce's face turned grim. "Latorre told you?"
 

Alexa nodded, wiping here eyes. She needed to keep calm, try to think this through. Her entire body had started to shiver and she clutched her arms, rubbing them, trying to wipe away the fear that taken hold of her throat and was pressing down hard, forcing her to take halting breaths.

"I confronted them at the foyer and he told me to kneel with my hands on my knees or he would shoot Madam President and Yumi," Bruce said, his brow furrowed in deep lines. "And then the bastard pistol-whipped me."