Any more would be too dangerous. One master, one slave, a perfect combination. You can prove your reluctance by doing what I say;
if you don't, you're dead meat and I'll blow you away myself. Got it?"
"What is it you want me to do? And should I accept, what guarantee do I have that those photographs will not send me to prison?"
"None actually, but the odds are on your side. I have an idea that Bergeron will be far more interested in saving his ass from a firing squad than in condemning you to one."
"We have no such executions here in France, mons' cur
You're really an innocent, aren't you? These things aren't formal, Franqois, they just happen."
"What is it, then?" asked the driver, swallowing.
"Jacques is in another wing on this floor, if I remember correctly."
"You do. This section is for subordinate personnel.,"
"But you have access, don't you? I mean, you have the run of the place, am I right?"
"If you mean can I take you to his office, yes, I can."
"Without announcing either of us?"
"O f course, I am permanently assigned to him. There is a rear hallway in this section that is entered by a pass code; it leads to the high executive offices. I have it, naturally."
"Naturally. Let's go."
"What am I to do, then?"
"Come back here, stay here, and hope for the best."
"And you, Monsieur Lat'am?"
"I'm going to hope for the best too."
Captain Christian Dietz put the handheld radio out of sight on a bookshelf and positioned himself at the left side of the hotel suite's central door. His acute hearing picked up the sound of muffled footsteps outside in the corridor, followed by silence. His weapon at, the ready, he wondered if the would-be intruders had procured a master key somewhere, or whether they would chance an assault on the door.
The latter, apparently. The silence was shattered by a thunderous crash as the door was broken off its latch and smashed back into the commando. The two men rushed into the room guns in, their hands, their heads turning right and left, left and right, unsure of what to do next. Dietz solved their dilemma by shouting, "Drop your weapons or you're dead!"
The first man turned violently and a silenced spit exploded from the barrel of his gun. The commando lurched forward on the floor and shot back, hitting the intruder in the stomach, causing him to double over and collapse. The second would-be killer, stunned, lowered his gun as three marines burst through the open door.
Suddenly Karin de Vries ran out of the bedroom in her nightgown.
"Get back there!" roared Dietz.
As Karin lunged toward the bedroom door, the second intruder raised his weapon and fired. Blood spurted out from the edge of her left shoulder as the marines leveled their weapons.
"Hold it!" roared Dietz.
"He's no good to us dead!"
"Neithet'are we, buddy!" cried a marine sergeant, his Colt .45 aimed at the neo's head.
"Drop it, you worm, or it's all over!"
The neo let the gun fall to the floor as Dietz got to his feet and raced across the room to the prone, bleeding Karin de Vries, kicking the Nazi's weapon away as he passed over it.
"Don't move," he ordered, tearing the nightgown strap off the shoulder and cradling Karin.
"It's not bad," he concluded, studying the wound.
"The bullet creased the flesh, but that's all. Stay put and I'll get some towels."
"I'll find them," said the nearest marine.
"Where?"
"Through that door to the bathroom. Pick up three clean small ones and tie them together."
"A tourniquet?"
"Not exactly, but close. We want to keep the skin flat. Then get some ice from the bar."
"On my way."
"Don't tell me you're a doctor too," said Karin, holding up the corner of her nightgown and smiling weakly.
"This isn't brain surgery, Mrs. de Vries, just a flesh wound. You were lucky; a second or two sooner and you'd have had a problem.
Does it hurt?"
"More numb than painful, Captain."
"We'll get you to the embassy doctor."
"Where is Drew? That comes first. And Gerry, where is be?"
"Please don't put me through this, Mrs. D.V. Mr. Latham gave us orders and he's running the show. He and
Anthony went to the Deuxieme Bureau-I lost the toss with Gerry."
"The Deuxieme? Why?"
"Cons-Op told us he thought he'd figured out who the rat in the attic was."
"The rat in the attic?"
"The Nazi mole who was wired into all of us."
"At the [email protected]?"
"That's what he said."
"He mentioned something in Beauvais, but when I questioned him in the van, he shrugged it off, telling me it