“No, not at all.”
She advanced to the next page. As the results loaded, Patrick’s eyes fell on the glass window at the front of the café. His eyes widened with understanding when he saw what was printed there. That’s it. That’s what it means.
He gestured toward the keyboard. “May I?”
“By all means,” she said, scooting back.
He leaned forward and typed rue mazarine paris in the search box. A moment later, the results appeared. As he’d expected, the first was a preview of a Paris map. He clicked on it.
Danielle’s eyes widened when the map opened. “That’s not far from where we are right now.”
Patrick enlarged the view. The street was in the Sixth Arrondissement, just south of the Seine. There didn’t seem to be anything special about it. No government buildings. No tourist attractions. He let his eyes drift farther down the map. She was right — the street was about a half mile from where they were now. That’s interesting. The only two pieces of his short-term memory to surface were connected by geography.
“Let’s dig a little deeper.” Danielle pulled the keyboard closer. “Maybe one of the numbers represents an address. Give them to me again.”
Patrick recited the digits from memory.
“I think we’re about to get some answers,” she said.
As they waited for the results to appear, Patrick watched two men enter the café. Both wore black jackets, black pants, and sour expressions. In fact, both looked as if they were checking in for a colonoscopy.
Patrick studied them carefully as they approached the counter. While one talked to the clerk, the other one’s eyes swept the room. His features looked very familiar…
The hairs on the back of Patrick’s neck stood on end. The two were part of the group that had chased them the night before. He was certain of that. But if he was right, how had they found them?
There was only one possible answer.
He grabbed Danielle’s arm. “Take off your jacket.”
She stayed focused on the screen. “Hold on. I think one of these numbers might be an actual—”
“Forget the address.” He yanked her sleeve roughly. “Take off your jacket now.”
Danielle turned toward him, surprised at the sudden edge to his voice. “What’s going—”
“Just do it, Danielle.”
She took it off then let out a surprised gasp when she saw what had happened. Her shirtsleeve was pulled up past her elbow, and along with it the foil that was supposed to be covering the microchip. She looked at her arm then at him. “I didn’t realize it had come off.”
There wasn’t time to assess blame or discuss the matter any further. They were seconds from being caught. Patrick quickly repositioned the foil and the rubber bands that held it in place. If they could somehow slip out undetected, covering the chip might help them get away.
She stared at him while he worked. “I’m so sorry. Do you think they’ll be able to trace it?”
“They already have.” He pulled her sleeve down over the top of the foil.
“What are you talking about?”
“They’re here. Now get down!”
The two eased off their chairs and crouched on the floor. Patrick lowered his head and looked through the maze of table and chair legs. The two men were moving down an aisle to Patrick’s left. Most of the unused stations were at the rear, which meant they would eventually reach the row where he and Danielle were hidden.
“Is that who you’re talking about?” Danielle pointed at the legs. “How do you know it’s them?”
“Trust me, I saw their faces, and both were in the house last night.”
“They couldn’t have found us that quickly.”
“Don’t be so sure. The chip may have been exposed for an hour or more. I’m sure they have teams positioned across Paris, meaning they could get to any part of the city in minutes.”
She stared at him. “I’m so sorry.”
Patrick lifted a finger, indicating she should remain quiet. Thankfully, the two men were taking their time — probably so that they could examine all the patrons — but even so, they would reach their row in less than a minute.
“Follow me,” Patrick said.
Staying crouched, he led her off. His goal was to slip over to the wine bar without being seen. Several people turned and glared when they passed, but Patrick kept moving. As long as no one said anything, he didn’t care how stupid they looked.
When they reached the end, he stopped and looked back. The two men had reached their row, and one of them was looking in their direction. He seemed a little confused by their disguises but recognized them nonetheless.
“Go!” Patrick said.
They stood and sprinted toward the hallway connecting the cyber café and the wine bar. As they rounded the corner, Patrick ran into a woman carrying two glasses of wine. The glasses fell and shattered on the floor. The woman backed away, cursing him in French. Patrick pushed past her and ran through the bar. When they reached the front entrance, he pushed it open and took a quick glance back. The two men in black had just come out of the connecting hallway. He had to figure out a way to slow them down. Even a minute could be the difference between life and death.
He pointed at the Luxembourg Gardens across the street. “Go over there and wait for me.”
After Danielle ran off, Patrick turned and faced the men. As they walked briskly across the bar, one of them smiled and reached into his jacket. Patrick knew what was coming next. It was about to get messy.
He overturned a couple of nearby tables and shouted in French, “They’re terrorists! They have guns!”
Some of the patrons froze in fear, while others screamed when they noticed one of the men was brandishing a pistol. As most of the crowd rushed in his direction, Patrick stepped outside and slid one of the outdoor tables in front of the door. He could only hope the mob and the obstacle would buy him the minute he needed to get away.
With the entrance now closed off, he sprinted to the curb and looked across the street. He’d expected to see Danielle waiting at the fence, but she was nowhere in sight. As he shifted his gaze south, he saw the entrance to the Luxembourg Gardens.
She must have gone inside.
A crash sounded behind him. The crowd had pushed open the blocked door.
Patrick dashed across the street, causing several cars to screech to a halt. A few drivers blew their horns in anger, but he continued on. After reaching the other side, he sprinted down the sidewalk and through the entrance to the gardens. Danielle stood just inside the gate.
“What were you doing?” she asked.
“I told them to try the Merlot, but they didn’t seem to care for my recommendation.”
What now? The path they were on ran through a grove of trees and ended at the lighted area at the rear of the Luxembourg Palace. Despite the late hour, dozens of tourists walked around the ornate pool and gardens there. Patrick and Danielle could probably hide in the crowd, but the palace was a good two hundred yards away.
There was commotion at the street. Patrick turned and looked through the trees. Four men sprinted down the sidewalk, knocking people out of the way as they ran. Four men? Apparently, two more had joined the chase, and more were probably on the way.
The vise tightened with each passing minute.
“What now?” Danielle asked.
At this point, there was really only one option. He pulled her toward the woods. “This way.”
They ran about twenty yards back and hid behind a large trunk. After crouching low to the ground, Patrick looked back toward the gate. The four men had entered and were standing where Patrick and Danielle had stood just moments before. One of the men pointed toward the Luxembourg Palace and said something to the others. He and two of the men then ran in that direction, while a fourth stayed behind to watch the gate.