The Range Rover didn’t just have an uprated engine, giving an output of over seven hundred horsepower, it also had much improved suspension and brakes; even the chassis had been strengthened to deal with the extra torque.
As Vinh followed Cole’s suicide dash across the intersection, he was in no doubt whatsoever that he was going to catch the slow, heavy ambulance.
It was just a question of how long it would take.
49
Cole had now passed the seventies lump of the Palais des Congres convention centre, and had gone the wrong way around the Place de la Porte Maillot, clipping a small Citroen and forcing the rider of a small scooter off the road, before joining the Avenue de la Grand Armee.
The illuminated beauty of the Arc de Triomphe lay ahead of him, just visible through the snow that still fell, but now only lightly. He accelerated the ambulance down the wide avenue, checking his wing mirrors constantly.
Nothing … Nothing … There it was, turning onto the same road and accelerating once more towards him.
Cole had hoped taking the wrong direction at the roundabout might have lost his pursuer, but it had merely gained him some time.
Gritting his teeth, Cole decided he would have to use it wisely.
Ahead of him, Vinh could see Cole’s ridiculous ambulance as it raced in and out of the light traffic towards the Arc de Triomphe.
Vinh heard the whine of the twin superchargers as he pressed his right foot down, feeling a kick in his lower back as he was thrust forwards down the street at a tremendous pace, gaining distance with Cole rapidly.
His quarry’s driving had enabled him to string the pursuit out, but as soon as he slowed for the main roundabout, Vinh would be right in top of him. He would ram him straight off the road, run around and shoot the bastard straight in the face.
The ambulance was there, Vinh could see, right at the arch; Vinh was behind, still surging forwards. Cole would have to slow soon, and Vinh could –
His eyes opened wide as the ambulance ploughed straight on, snaking in and out of the vehicles travelling around the arch, mounted the pavement and drove directly underneath it.
Son of a bitch!
50
Cole came crashing down off the other side, through the massive arch, down off the pavement and once more through the traffic circulating around it.
There were only one or two vehicles though, and Cole easily avoided them as he charged forwards onto the Avenue des Champs Elysees.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he glanced again in the wing mirrors, only to see the big Range Rover following him through the arch, across the circular road, and onto the Champs Elysees right behind him. The man might have been trying to kill him, but Cole had to admire his nerve.
Cole drove on, leaving it until the last possible second, Vinh’s 4 × 4 just feet from his rear bumper now, the sound of the big V8 filling the cabin, until he pulled a sharp right onto Avenue George V. It was simply too late for Vinh to react, and the man sailed past, still on the Champs Elysee.
Cole smiled to himself as he carried on towards the river, happy to have finally lost the man.
His pleasure was short lived though, as he heard the big V8 off to his left. He stamped on the accelerator even as he turned his head to see Vinh piloting the big car the wrong way down the Rue Marbeouf.
The heavy black vehicle missed the rear side of Cole’s ambulance by under a foot, and Cole was gratified to see that Vinh was having difficulty controlling the car back into line after its high speed attack.
Cole used the opportunity to make it onto the Avenue de New York, following it west along the Seine. Cole glanced at the river, the black icy waters reflecting back the lights filtering in from the city of love around him, the illuminated mass of the Eiffel Tower looming over to his left, a symbol of the city itself.
Cole thought quickly. Even at this late hour, and even with the bad weather, surely there would still be tourists and sightseers at the Tower, maybe a bit of extra traffic he could use to shake Vinh off for good.
In the distance he could hear sirens, and he put his right foot further down in a reflexive action, burying the accelerator pedal into the cabin floor as he surged forwards along the riverside avenue.
Vinh had finally gained control of his car, at the same time still managing to monitor the direction of Cole’s travel.
Once on the Avenue de New York, Cole’s intentions were clear — he was going to try and lose him in the traffic he hoped would surround Paris’s most famous tourist attraction.
Racing along the snow-covered street, Vinh was determined to not let that happen. He owed it to his brother to kill the man.
51
Cole turned again sharply left onto the Pont d’Iena, fully aware that Vinh was back in the chase, again closing down fast behind him.
He careened over the bridge, struggling to find grip, surprised to see no other vehicles ahead of him. Where was everyone? Cole finally found the digital clock on the dashboard and risked a quick glance. Almost three o’clock in the morning. He sighed. He had thought it was late evening, not early morning.
He wasn’t going to be able to rely on the traffic, that was for sure; there simply wasn’t going to be any.
It left only one option, and Cole adjusted immediately, gunning the ambulance’s diesel engine and accelerating himself down the Avenue Anatole France towards the incredible tower, even as he reached underneath the dashboard to disconnect the fuse responsible for powering the brake lights.
The sirens sounded closer now, and he knew time had almost run out.
He then stamped hard on his brakes, bracing himself for the impact.
52
You’ve got nowhere to go, Vinh silently told the driver ahead. His car was always going to beat an ambulance, no question about it. The only question now was whether he would be able to nudge the ambulance off the road and kill this guy before the police descended on the scene. He could hear the sirens less than a mile away.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw the back of the ambulance suddenly approaching him at an unbelievable speed. The target must have braked, but there was no warning, nothing at all, no time to stop –
Cole felt the Range Rover smash into the back of the ambulance with a mixture of satisfaction and trepidation. He was glad it had worked, but he was aware that he now had to finish things hand to hand.
The vehicles had come to a stop with the ambulance bonnet resting at the colossal left leg of the giant tower, the Range Rover buried halfway into the back end.
Cole wasted no time, and instead of jumping out of the driver’s side door he pushed straight through into the rear compartment. The Range Rover’s bonnet was almost touching the compartment wall, the whole front of the car ensconced within the rear of the ambulance. Cole leapt onto the bonnet, pistol aimed through the shattered windscreen. He scanned the interior. Nothing.
A sound to his left made him turn his head, and he saw Vinh rising up from behind the front wheel arch, his own pistol raised. Cole instinctively kicked out, knocking the weapon out of the man’s hand and bringing his own to bear.
Vinh was quick though, and rushed him, pulling a knife from a concealed sheath. Cole couldn’t get the handgun round fast enough to take a shot and so converted the movement into a clubbing attack, striking Vinh around the side of the head as the knife came straight at him.