Deadly Echoes (15 page)

A glance at her watch told her pieces of her escape plan were still being brought together and she had to continue to be patient. Once everything started, she and Stephanie needed to keep on a precise schedule to reach the rendezvous point that would get them out of the city.

Lauren's main concern was her three bodyguards. Henri, Philippe, and Giselle were roaming the floor. She easily found Henri, the tallest and with a shaved head. He was poised over by a rack of shoes that broke up his outline but gave him a sweeping view of the shopping area. As always, he had his earpiece firmly in place and could instantly connect to Philippe and Giselle who were out of sight but close.

Lauren glanced at her watch. They still had twenty-five minutes before all of the components would be in position for them to make their move. “Do you need to go to the little girl's room?” Lauren asked Abigail.

“Oui!” Abigail slid off the chair, carefully clutching her newest doll. Lauren took Abigail's hand and they walked down an aisle toward the ladies' room, finding Henri just ahead. She smiled. An instant later Henri's head snapped backward, and he dropped to the
floor as if both legs had failed. Lauren, firmly holding Abigail's hand, dashed toward the downed man. She'd almost reached him when Philippe materialized from nowhere and scooped up Abigail, quietly but firmly ordering Lauren to go through the curtain that led into the shoe department's back room. Philippe spoke into his radio, telling Giselle that they were under fire and that Henri was down. He ordered her to collect Stephanie and to bring the car around to the rue de Babylone exit.

“Let me take her.” Lauren reached out and took a shocked Abigail from Philippe. “Where's Stephanie?”

“She's with Giselle.” Philippe, his weapon drawn, motioned Lauren to take the hallway to their right. “We need to get to the service elevator. It's this way.”

“Did you see who did it?”

“I think there are two of them, a man and a woman, and they moved fast. They had a perfect shot at you and took out Henri instead. Silenced weapon, head shot. Henri was gone before he hit the ground.”

“Mommy! Where are we going?”

“We need to do what Philippe tells us. Okay? It's like when we play hide-and-seek.”

Abigail nodded, but the apprehension in her eyes told Lauren her daughter knew this wasn't a game. Voices behind them in the corridor injected a new wave of fear into the equation, and Lauren urged herself to run faster. They rounded a corner, and to the left, Lauren saw an elevator. She got there first, pressed the down button three times, and then when nothing happened, she instantly began looking for stairs. A weak chime sounded, announcing that the car had arrived. The doors began to open slowly. Lauren, with her hand over Abigail's head, lunged inside only to nearly trip over a body lying on the floor. Lauren spun around so Abigail couldn't see Fredrick's sightless corpse. Lauren fought her revulsion and pushed the button for the ground floor as more shots rang out. Bullets struck metal and drywall, tiny fragments stinging Lauren's
face and arms. Philippe fired three quick rounds, backed into the elevator and fired down the hall until the doors eased closed and the elevator began to descend.

“Who's he?” Philippe said as he dropped the empty clip from his Glock, shoved it in his pocket, and rammed a fresh one into place.

“I don't know,” Lauren lied. Abigail was clutching Lauren as hard as her three-year-old arms could squeeze. Lauren looked down and saw blood pooling beneath Philippe's leg. “You're hit.”

“A little.” Philippe nodded and then spoke rapidly. “Once the door opens, let me clear the hallway and then we're out and to the left. There should be an exit onto rue de Babylone. Giselle and Stephanie are already in the car headed our way.”

Lauren nodded, relieved that Stephanie was safe, but the relief was short lived as the elevator bottomed out, hesitated, and the doors began to open. Philippe led with his pistol, pointed it first one way and then another. Somewhere in the distance Lauren could hear the distinctive French emergency sirens. The hallway was clear and to their left was a door that led into the retail section and, hopefully, the exit. Philippe took the lead as shoppers alarmed by the earlier gunshots moved toward the large glass doors. Philippe kept his gun low along his leg and motioned Lauren to blend into the crowd. Lauren couldn't help but see the trail of blood Philippe was leaving as they shuffled to the doors. She kept Abigail's head down and barely dared to breathe as they drew closer to freedom.

The small crowd slowed at the restriction of the doors themselves, but Lauren pushed past them, then down a small flight of stairs and out onto the sunlight. The moment she looked up, she saw Giselle flash the lights on the Jaguar. The next moment she saw a familiar face round the corner of the building. Young, pretty, with spiky black hair, and holding a gun. Now Lauren knew who she was running from. The woman in the picture Aaron had shown her—Nikolett Kovarik—the assassin.

Lauren ducked and moved away, trying to cross the street and
put traffic between her and Nikolett. Philippe too saw the woman and raised his weapon to fire just as a slug zipped past Lauren and caught Philippe in the midsection. Nikolett hadn't fired; the bullet had come from behind them, across the street. The cluster of people still coming through the door screamed and parted, fleeing the blast of gunfire. Lauren searched for the second shooter, realizing they were pinned down.

Lauren crouched next to Philippe who'd gone white with shock. She picked up his Glock, her desire to protect Abigail far outweighing any hesitation. Desperately, Lauren scanned for Nikolett's accomplice until she spotted a man coming toward her. Lauren saw the gray Jaguar coming fast. Lauren fired at the man, causing him to hesitate long enough for the Jaguar's front grill to hit squarely into him. His gun tumbled away as his body tossed into the air and slammed into a parked delivery van. Giselle expertly backed away, fired three shots toward Nikolett, pinning her behind a parked car.

“Lauren!” Stephanie screamed as she pushed open the rear door of the Jaguar. The sirens told Lauren the police were close. As she bolted for the Jaguar, a volley of gunshots peppered the front of the car. Lauren reached the car and through the open door handed Abigail to Stephanie. Once Abigail was safe, Lauren turned and fired. Nikolett was using a parked car as cover, Lauren's first shot exploded the windshield. She squeezed the trigger and walked each round closer to the assassin. Nikolett hadn't expected return fire from Lauren and dove frantically between two parked cars. The moment Nikolett took cover, Lauren lunged into the backseat of the Jaguar.

“Go!” Stephanie screamed, but the car remained where it was.

Lauren spotted the blood spatter. Giselle had been hit. Without hesitation, Lauren jumped out, fired three more shots in the direction of their pursuer, pushed Giselle out of the way, and slid behind the wheel. Lauren backed up the Jaguar, spun the wheel, put it in drive, and rocketed down a side street. At the first intersection she turned left to find chaos. People were spilling out of Le Bon Marché. She leaned on her horn and parted the angry crowd. When she
reached rue de Sevres, the traffic light was red. Lauren had a window between cars and shot through the intersection, giving them a clear lane down the rue Saint-Placide. In her rearview mirror, Lauren saw a black Mercedes do the same exact thing and her momentary hope for escape vanished. Philippe's Glock was wedged beneath her thigh and the leather seat. She spotted Giselle's weapon on the floor of the passenger's side—well out of reach.

Lauren steered around a car, barely missing a parked truck. With each opening in the traffic, she went faster. She reached for her cell phone and dialed a number she'd committed to memory. A man answered, but she could hardly hear him, with the intense background noise.

“Please tell me you're close,” she said. “We'll never make it to the primary extraction point. We're headed to the emergency location.”

“Understand. We'll be at the emergency egress point in seven minutes. We're hearing some radio chatter that you're not getting out clean. Confirm your situation and position.”

“We're almost there, but we have company. This could get ugly.”

“Copy, we'll be on site as fast as possible.”

Lauren disconnected the call.

“She's still behind us!” Stephanie said as she snuck a look.

Lauren saw the Mercedes in the mirror. She could see that Abigail had buried her face into Stephanie's shoulder and was screaming uncontrollably. Weaving in and out of slower traffic, ignoring the angry cursing and flashed gestures, each maneuver did nothing to put distance between her and the Mercedes. Nikolett was closing fast.

Lauren blew through a red light, jumped up over the curb, narrowly missing a light pole and two pedestrians. Amid a cacophony of blaring horns she made the right turn onto rue de Rennes. Their destination finally came into view—the fifty-six story Montparnasse Tower.

The Mercedes negotiated the corner Lauren had cut and was
again catching up to them. She maneuvered the Jaguar wildly through a rotary, cut off a bus, and made a hard turn onto rue du Départ. The skyscraper was only a block away. Up ahead a light turned red, she swerved to the right to avoid a car, glanced off a retaining wall, and then wedged the Jaguar up a flight of steps that led up from street level to the main door of the Montparnasse Tower.

“Run for the doors!” Lauren yelled as Stephanie and Abigail bolted for the lobby. She stepped out of the car, turned, and waited. Bystanders had started to move closer until they saw a bloody woman holding a pistol climb from the car, then they scattered.

A private security guard rushed from the building, saw that Lauren was armed, hesitated and drew his weapon.

“Do you speak English?” Lauren shouted, pointing her gun safely at the ground.

“Yes, I speak English. Please put down your gun.”

“I'm being chased by an assassin. She's in a black Mercedes. Please help me!”

Lauren saw Stephanie and Abigail reach the doors and make it inside the building. She turned at the squeal of tires just as Nikolett leapt from the Mercedes and fired her pistol. The shot was wide, but startled the security guard. He spoke frantically into his radio, motioning Lauren to run to the doors as he returned fire. Lauren raised Philippe's Glock and fired once, it was her last bullet. Unarmed, she ran for the doors as more gunfire erupted.

Gasping for breath, Lauren, pushed through the first set of doors, stashed the gun in her purse, and pulled out her Defense Intelligence Agency credentials. She yanked the second door open, and to her left, she saw the express elevators to the top floor. Stephanie and Abigail must already be on their way up. Lauren turned to see two security guards running across the polished tile floor toward her. She held her credentials out at arm's length. “Federal investigator! Your colleague is taking fire outside! He needs backup!”

The sound of gunfire confirmed her story, and the men turned
their attention toward the main door. Lauren ran to the elevator and frantically pushed the button. She jumped as the main glass doors behind her exploded inward from a volley of bullets and both security guards went down on the tiled floor. Lauren turned and stood helpless as Nikolett stepped into the lobby. Their eyes met and the assassin started toward her.

Nikolett came at Lauren with no fear. Behind Lauren the elevator pinged. Seconds later, the doors opened, and a man Lauren had never met pulled her into the elevator, placed himself between her and Nikolett, and opened fire as Nikolett ducked behind a pillar in the lobby. Dozens of slugs peppered the marble facade, and as the elevator doors closed, he squeezed off a final volley of retreating gunfire to keep Nikolett from returning fire.

“Who in the hell are you?” Lauren asked, every nerve ending in her body shaking from adrenaline.

“Dr. McKenna, I'm Reggie. I'm former SAS and a friend of Buck's. We spoke on the phone.”

Lauren nodded the moment she recognized his cockney accent.

“Are you hurt?” Reggie asked as he inserted a fresh magazine into his weapon.

Lauren shook her head as the elevator climbed the last few flights before easing to a halt.

The doors opened and Reggie hit the emergency stop button inside the elevator, then he stepped out, ignoring the bell.

“Three flights of stairs to go,” Reggie said. “Follow me.”

Lauren climbed the remaining three floors and burst outside onto the observation deck. It was flat and oval and painted with a faded white circle. Sitting in the center was an idling Sikorsky S-76 helicopter. Abigail, still in Stephanie's arms, was in the back, her hands pressed over her ears.

As Lauren climbed inside, strong arms reached out to help. Within moments the door slammed shut, and the Sikorsky lifted off and banked north. Reggie helped Lauren get seated and buckled in next to Stephanie. Abigail moved to her mother's lap, and Lauren held her tight.

“Honey, are you hurt?” Lauren asked. The only response was a silent shake of her head.

“Are you armed?” Reggie asked Lauren.

“In my bag.”

Reggie retrieved Lauren's Glock then expertly disassembled the weapon. “We'll dump this out over the English Channel.”

“Tell Buck thank you,” Lauren said.

Reggie pushed a button on a satellite phone and handed it to her. “Tell him yourself.”

“Hello,” Lauren said. She and Buck had talked at length the night before about the best way for them to get out of Paris.

“I'm glad you're safe,” Buck replied without ceremony. “We're on a secure line. Tell me everything that happened.”

Lauren covered one ear and held the phone tight against the other. She quickly explained events, leaving out none of the details. When she finished, the line was silent to the point she'd thought she'd lost the connection. “Are you still there?”