The Lazarus Vendetta - By Robert Ludlum Page 0,115
despite the early hour, sighed. "In good times, no." He shrugged his shoulders expressively. "But, alas, this unpleasantness at La Courneuve has caused many cancellations and early departures. So it will be no problem."
Smith signed the register, automatically checking the names above his for anything suspicious. He saw nothing there to worry him. There were only a few other guests, almost all of them from other European countries or from France itself. Most, like him, seemed to be traveling alone. They were either here on urgent business or else scholars delving into the various nearby historical archives and museums, he judged. Couples bent on romance would have been among the first to abandon Paris in the wake of the nanophage attack and the ensuing riots.
The clerk brought out a small square cardboard box and laid it on top of the desk. "Also, this package came by courier for you an hour ago." He glanced down at the note on top. "It is from the MacLean Medical Group in Toronto, Canada. You were expecting it, I think?"
Smith nodded, smiling inwardly. Trust Fred Klein to be on the ball, he thought gratefully. MacLean was one of the many shell companies Covert-One used for clandestine shipments to its agents around the world.
Upstairs in the privacy of his small but elegantly furnished room, he broke open the seals on the box and ripped through the packing tape. Inside he found a hard plastic case containing a brand-new 9mm SIG-Sauer pistol, a box of ammunition, and three spare magazines. A leather shoulder holster came wrapped separately.
Smith sat down on the comfortable double bed, stripped the pistol down to its constituent parts, carefully cleaned each component, and then put them back together. Satisfied, he snapped in a loaded magazine and slid the SIG-Sauer into the shoulder holster. He went to the window, which looked out onto the tiny courtyard behind the hotel. Above the dark slate rooftops of the ancient buildings on the other side, the eastern sky was touched by the first faint hint of gray. Lights were beginning to flick on behind some of the other windows facing the little cobblestone enclosure. The city was waking up.
He punched in Klein's number on his cell phone and reported his safe arrival in Paris. "Any new developments?" he asked.
"Nothing here," the head of Covert-One told him. "But it appears that the CIA team in Paris has traced one of the vehicles it spotted in La Courneuve to an address not far from where you are now."
Smith heard the uncertainty in Klein's voice. "It appears?" he said, surprised.
"They're being very coy," the other man explained. "The team's most recent signal to Langley claimed preliminary success but omitted any specific location."
Smith frowned. "That's odd."
"Yes," Klein said flatly. "It is very odd. And I don't have a satisfactory explanation for the omission."
"Isn't Langley pressing the Paris Station for specifics?"
Klein snorted. "The head of the CIA and his top people are far too busy running emergency audits of the whole Operations Directorate to pay much attention to their officers in the field."
"So what makes you think this surveillance team is zeroing in on a building in or around the Marais?" Jon asked.
"Because they've set their primary RV in the Place des Vosges," Klein said.
Smith nodded to himself, understanding the other man's reasoning. The RV - or rendezvous point - for a covert surveillance team operating inside a city was almost always set up within easy walking distance of its intended target. It was usually a fairly public place, one busy enough to camouflage discreet meetings between agents as they exchanged information or relayed new orders. The Place des Vosges, built in 1605, was the oldest square in Paris and was perfect for this purpose. The bustling restaurants, cafes, and shops lining its four sides would provide ideal cover.
"Makes sense," he agreed. "But knowing that doesn't do me much, good, does it? They could be snooping around any one of several hundred buildings in this neighborhood."
"It's a problem," Klein agreed. "Which is why you're going to have to make direct contact with the CIA team."
Smith raised an eyebrow in amazement. "Oh? And just how do you suggest I go about doing that?" he asked. "Parade up and down the Place des Vosges waving a big sign asking for a meeting?"
"Something rather like that, actually," Klein said drily.
With growing surprise and amusement, Smith listened to the other man explain what he meant. When they were through, Smith disconnected and entered another number.