They were circling around the Arc de Triomphe now.
She said, “There they are, turning to the right. Let me count, fifth turn off the roundabout, onto the Champs-élysées.”
Nicholas downshifted instead of braking as the car flew out onto the street behind the Mercedes. He could see it up ahead, nearly a quarter of a mile down the street. He floored the gas pedal, and the Peugeot leapt forward.
Mike said, “He’s headed east. Gagny is his biggest holding, and the only one east of the city. That must be where he’s going.”
“I’ll lay back a bit. Is he using his mobile?”
She checked the computer in her lap. “I’ve tapped into the wire Savich has on his phone. No outgoing calls.”
“I’m sure that will change.”
Ten minutes into the drive, the tracker on Lanighan’s mobile lit up.
“Got one. Outgoing, from Lanighan.” Mike turned up the volume on her laptop. Lanighan’s voice was scratchy.
Is everything prepared?
It is.
Is the bitch there yet with the stone?
Not yet. She’ll come. She wants her money too much to betray you. It’s all she ever cared about. Relax. How long until you arrive?
Thirty minutes, no longer.
I’ll be waiting.
The mobile went dead.
Mike’s cell phone rang almost immediately.
“Hey, Dillon. You guys get that?”
“We did. The call was made to the same phone signal we have on record here. Lanighan was talking to the Ghost, William Mulvaney.”
Mike said, “So who’s he working with? Lanighan or the Fox?”
Nicholas said, “Well, we’re going to find out soon enough. Savich, is Menard set up to meet us at Gagny warehouse?”
“Yes. He has a team with him.”
Nicholas said, “Be sure to tell them to stay well back until we signal for them. We’re going to go in first and see what’s happening. We don’t need this blowing up in our faces and turning into a bloodbath.”
“Be careful,” Savich said, and hung up.
“He’s not going to be alone, Nicholas. We need Menard and his men.”
He didn’t argue with her. “I have no issue with having Menard’s men backing us up. But the last thing I want is a massive show of force before we know what’s happening inside that warehouse.”
Nicholas lagged back, and Mike couldn’t see the Mercedes anymore. He shut off the lights, let the moon guide him. “When Mulvaney talked about the Fox, he sounded bitter, maybe angry. I wonder what that’s all about.”
Five minutes later, they could see the road dead-end at a large gate, topped with a camera.
Mike said, “Stop here. We don’t want to announce ourselves yet.” She pointed to the camera. Nicholas pulled the car to the side of the road. It was quiet, and very dark. The warehouses were deep into the grounds behind the gate. There was no movement here.
“No help for it,” Nicholas said, “we’ll have to go over the fence. Can your arm stand it? Or should I cut through?”
Mike shook her head. “Nicholas, we need to wait for Menard’s men.”
Nicholas shot her a grin. “No, we don’t. Are you with me or not?”
She thought about the three assassins Lanighan sent to kill them, thought about taking a nice swing at the Fox, bloodying her lip—it took exactly two seconds before she said, “Let’s go.”
“Let’s start out with a bit of reconnaissance.”
He reached up and turned off the interior light and opened his door carefully. He loaded his bag on his shoulder. She could see his face; he was having fun, the idiot.
She felt strong; she felt right. She checked her Glock and followed him out of the car. It was a war she wanted to fight, a war she intended to win.
91
Gagny Neuf-trois, Paris
Lanighan’s warehouse
Saturday night
Kitsune went over the fence at the back of the warehouse and climbed to the roof of the next building in the compound.