“Tell them they’ve got two minutes. Send somebody down to the street to see if anyone saw the chick at the window. If they did, they know what to do. The plane’s waiting. If they ain’t on it, they ain’t on it. Let’s hit it.”
He and the other man opened their backpacks and took out notebooks, reams of paper, charts, graphs, and other documents and then proceeded to press Anna’s fingertips to many of the documents.
As the men started to spread the material over Anna’s desk, Caesar said, “Damn.” He was looking at the papers that were already on Anna’s desk.
“What?” asked his companion.
Caesar pointed at one of the papers Anna had printed out showing her interest in the Red Menace.
He said, “Lady was obviously already curious. But it’ll tie in okay.”
He took out a camera and started snapping pictures of the office’s interior.
They received an all-clear that no one had seen Anna at the window, though some of her blood had made its way to the small garden standing to the left side of the building entrance. The orange daylilies had grown a shade darker on impact.
Soon, a third man joined them. He sat down at Anna’s computer and slid a CD into the intake slot. The man typed so fast his gloved fingers were a blur and the keyboard was rattling like a train car over bad tracks.
Sixty seconds later he took out the CD. “Download’s finished.” He got up and raced out.
Thirty seconds later there wasn’t a living person left inside The Phoenix Group building.
CHAPTER 41
AS PRESIDENT BENISTI WAS LEAVING the Ritz in Paris after giving a speech, six men were arrested for attempting to assassinate the French leader. The news reports touted it as miraculous police work, for the would-be assassins, who’d gained access to the event with cleverly forged documents, were apprehended before they could get close to Benisti. In a related story, an attempt was made to attack Benisti’s elderly father but the criminals were caught before they could enter the senior Benisti’s apartment. Two of them had been shot dead by authorities.
The men appeared to be members of a well-known neo-Nazi group operating on the outskirts of Paris. Further arrests were expected. Authorities said this had likely dealt a fatal blow to the ultraviolent organization.
Shaw listened to this report on the TV as he packed his bag in his hotel room. His phone vibrated and he picked it up.
“Congratulations,” Frank said. “Your stink stayed away.”
“You always had a way with words.”
“Ready for some more work?”
“No, I’m headed out.”
“Let me guess, London?”
“I just can’t keep any secrets from you, can I?”
“Two days. Then I need you back.”
“Three. And consider yourself lucky.”
He clicked off, picked up his suitcase, and walked to the door. It opened before he touched the handle.
The pistol was leveled right at Shaw’s chest as he backed up, still clutching his case.
Victor fired off a ball of spit at Shaw, drilling him right in the face.
Another man carrying a small rucksack slipped in behind Victor and shut and bolted the door.
In Shaw’s pocket his phone started vibrating. It was probably Frank warning him, but far too late.
Adolph grinned. “No, no, mon ami, you must not leave Paris yet. The show, it is not over yet.”
Shaw took another step back until he butted up against the wall. His gaze flitted from the gun to Adolph as the spit from Victor’s launch trickled down his face.