“One last thing. Stay off the streets tonight. Trust your instincts. They’ll protect you more than anything.”
The two men in black coats were seated a few tables away. As one of them sat down, Patrick saw the familiar bulge of a semiautomatic pistol in his pants. Paris was essentially one massive gun-free zone, which meant these men were either common criminals or professionals. At this point, it was obvious which they were.
Patrick placed a hand under the table, ready to draw his own gun if necessary. It was time to end the call. “I see some of your people just got here. Unfortunately for you, they’re sloppy.”
“Who are you talking about? What people? If someone is there—”
“Goodbye.”
“Zane…”
Patrick powered off the phone and removed the battery.
“What’s going on?” Danielle asked in a frantic tone.
“We were just set up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t turn your head, but we have company.”
Patrick cursed himself for staying on the phone so long. For all intents and purposes, they were trapped. He thought of all the different ways this could play out, and none of them were particularly good. If he and Danielle left, they would obviously be followed out onto the street, where others were waiting. If they remained where they were, they would eventually be spotted. He did have a weapon now, but he’d be up against four armed attackers. Even with his skills, those weren’t good odds.
A plan surfaced in his thoughts. It was bold and would require a measure of luck, but at this point it might be their only option. He looked at Danielle. “I need you to do something.”
She leaned closer. “Okay.”
“I’m going to get up and walk back to the restroom. If I’m right, someone will follow me in.”
Patrick spent the next couple of minutes describing what would happen next and what he wanted her to do. Danielle’s eyes widened as she listened to his plan.
“And what if it doesn’t work?” she asked when he was finished.
“If I don’t come back out in two minutes, then get up and walk calmly toward the back. They’ll assume you’re going to the restroom, but you’re going to enter the kitchen instead.”
“So, I’m just going to walk into the kitchen? They’ll throw me out.”
“No, they won’t. I’ve done this before. Most won’t even notice you’re there. If someone sees you and says something, just ignore them and leave through the back door. Once you’re outside, I want you to use the phone to call French emergency services. The number is one one two.” He slid the phone and battery across the table. “Tell them there are terrorists with guns and give them the name of the brasserie. Due to the recent terror attacks, police officers are everywhere in Paris. They’ll be here in minutes.”
“Why don’t we just call them now?” Danielle asked as she tucked the phone and battery into her pocket.
“Because when they get here, they’ll search everyone. When they find out we don’t have identification, we’ll be arrested along with the others. I think you and I both know we can’t let that happen.”
Danielle was clearly concerned but nodded that she understood.
After making sure no one else had come in, Patrick slid out of the booth and walked to the back. As expected, one of the two men sitting close by turned in his direction. Patrick felt the man’s eyes on his back but continued walking. In order for his plan to work, he needed to seem unaware of their presence.
As he’d noted earlier, there were three doors at the back of the brasserie. The kitchen door was directly ahead, and two restroom doors were down a short hallway on the left. Patrick turned left down the hall and entered the men’s room, letting the door swing shut behind him. Once inside, he crossed quickly to one of the stalls.
Phase one of his plan was officially under way.
“That’s him.” Hugo Gustafsson watched as the tall man walked to the back of the restaurant and disappeared around a corner.
His partner Elias turned slightly. “What’s he doing?”
“He’s going to take a leak.”
“And the girl?” Elias asked.
“Probably in the booth, but I can’t see her from here.”
“Perfect. Let’s grab her while he’s gone.”
Hugo knew a vehicle was waiting a half block away and could be out front in seconds. But there was something he needed to do first. “Wait here. I need to take care of a problem.”
Elias frowned. “You sure that’s—”
“Just keep your eye on the booth,” Hugo snapped. He was tired of Elias questioning everything he did. “When I finish taking care of him, we’ll escort our female friend outside.”
“And if she doesn’t cooperate?”
“She won’t have any choice.”
Hugo wiped his mouth with a napkin then stood and walked calmly to the back. Before entering the men’s room, he stopped and slid a Sig Sauer P226 from the breast pocket of his jacket. He then removed a silencer from another pocket and screwed it into the muzzle. The kill would be quick and quiet. Suppressed shots produced sound, but the restaurant was so noisy it wouldn’t be heard.
He paused at the door and reminded himself the man inside wasn’t someone to be taken lightly. He’d already proved himself a formidable adversary, so Hugo readied himself for anything, including a surprise attack. He doubted the man was armed, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
After making sure no one was behind him, he opened the door and stepped inside. He raised his pistol then froze, a look of surprise spreading over his face. He’d expected to see the man at one of the urinals or at the sink, but no one was there. In fact, the room seemed empty.
He stepped forward cautiously. Something didn’t seem right.
He crouched and looked under the stall partitions. There. A man was sitting in the last stall.
Hugo smiled to himself. What a way to go.
Careful not to make any noise, he padded softly to the back. The door was made of flimsy metal. Gripping his gun in his right hand, he lifted his leg and kicked it open, aiming the Sig at the man’s chest. Only there was no chest. In fact, there wasn’t even a man. A pair of pants was draped down the front of the toilet seat, with shoes positioned at the bottom.
What the…?
Something was moving behind him. Hugo spun, but it was too late.
A hard object smashed into his temple, knocking him unconscious.
Patrick crouched and examined the man briefly. He was out cold and would likely remain that way for several minutes.
Realizing someone could walk in at any moment, he picked up the man’s pistol, dragged him into the stall, and shut the door. He then put his own pants and shoes on before positioning the man on the seat. He thought about tossing the pistol in one of the other toilets but decided to keep it instead. The additional rounds would come in handy.
The first part of his plan complete, he crossed to the door and opened it slightly. Loud conversation and the chink of silverware carried in from the dining area. The rush of noise was the perfect backdrop for what he was about to do. He visualized the position of the three remaining targets. There was no room for error. The next phase of his plan needed to be executed with lethal precision.
He pushed the door open and walked down the short hall. As he entered the main dining area, the three attackers looked at him in unison, their eyes widening in surprise. Patrick smiled to himself. Apparently, they had expected to see someone else.
He continued toward the kitchen door. He had only a few seconds to act.
The man who was seated by himself reached into his pocket.
Patrick drew his own weapon with his right hand while reaching toward a panel of light switches with his left.