Gibson or Costner. Wouldn’t surprise me much if he played a role himself the way they did. He’s got the looks. Probably not the talent to match, but I’m sure he’ll think he does.”
“But a movie?” Jack asked with a huff of disbelief that echoed Solange’s. “That’s just crazy.”
“Well, what’s he gonna do to get world recognition, huh? He can’t very well brag about snuffing a portion of the population with poison. He’s merely providing a product that will gain him millions in ready cash to support what he really feels compelled to do.”
Solange butted in. “Yes, but could he also desire a bit of revenge on the public who has not accepted him as he believes they should have done before?”
Holly nodded. “Very astute, Doctor. It could well be that that’s part of his overall plan. This guy’s extremely dangerous. He has no conscience. The laws do not apply to him, and he feels invincible.”
“Then we’ll just have to show him the light,” Jack said. He turned to Solange. “Heard enough? You see now why I want to leave you here?”
“I’m going. We have to stop this madman.”
“The plan’s in place, Jack,” Holly said, agreeing that Solange was needed. “She’s necessary.”
He clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. “I’m getting really bad vibes.”
“Vibes?” Solange asked. “What does this mean?”
Jack shrugged off the question, warning Holly with a look not to launch into any explanations right now. There wasn’t time to explain fully, and even if they did, Solange could hardly be expected to give it much credit.
He had always experienced these feelings. That’s all they were. Nothing concrete, certainly not in the category of telepathy or prescience, but they were fairly dependable. Nerves of steel and uncluttered confidence going into a mission meant success, a walk in the park. This jittery anything-that-can-go-wrong-will state of mind meant trouble. Unlike his paltry talent, Joe and Eric had the definitive visions. “What does Eric say?”
“He says he sees food. Good food. And he smells cigar smoke. This is all in the present, remember? He’s tuned in on Chari.”
“Joe pick up any future images at all?”
“Only one. You, all smiles. And all wet.”
“Wet? What does that mean?” he asked, realizing he had repeated Solange’s earlier question.
“Your hair and face are wet. And you look happy.”
Solange glanced from one to the other, frowning.
Holly grinned and reached over to pinch his shoulder. “Want me to practice my Vulcan mind-meld, Captain Kirk?”
“Spare me,” Jack said with a short laugh. “My mind’s screwed up enough right now.”
“Can’t afford that,” Holly said with a sigh. “I know I’ve been preaching concern for the individual, but now’s the time to look at the overall scenario, Jack. I hate to advise it, but get back on your original track and look at the forest, will you?”
She was right, of course, but her turnaround surprised him. He tended to lump people into groups, and she had pointed that out to him. It isolated him in a way, but that was okay. It was probably what kept him sane. Humanity, his family, his team. See them as individuals? He did in a way, but it was a very objective way. Each was part of this group or that, but if lost, the unit would survive. It could go on. He could go on.
He even viewed the enemy as one entity, to be erased at all costs.
With the members of his team, he considered their particular talents as they related to assignments, rated their unique performances of duty, commended or counseled them individually. That was his job. Relating to them personally, one-on-one, was a whole other thing.
He had tried that. However, after losing his favorite brother—his partner on a long ago NSA mission—and his wife in a shooting on the job two years ago, he finally had decided compartmentalizing was the only way to go. It had become habit and one that suited him. He embraced it now.
“I hear you,” he said, forcing a smile. He quickly finished his coffee and set the cup down on the desk. “Well, I need to get going. Everything set up here?”
“We’re good,” Holly told him. “You know you can’t have anything electronic on you going in.”
“Yeah, they might do a sweep and find it. They’ll surely check the car.”
“Would they search me?” Solange offered.
“Can’t risk it,” Holly said. “Got your homemade shiv, Jack? They’ll expect that and take it away from you, of course. Will sneaked over there earlier and left a cell phone hidden in a hollow under a stone. Look behind the second-closest tree to the house. You go out and pick it up whenever you think it’s safe. You have your locator implant. We’ll know exactly where you are at all times. That’s something. Should we take time to insert one in the doctor?”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll signal if things go south. Or call you as soon as the threat’s contained, so you can help sweep up.”
“The police will come then?” Solange asked, touching his arm. Then she jerked her hand away. “They have been alerted?”
Holly frowned, looking from Solange to Jack and back again. “I thought you explained this to her.”
He stood a little straighter. “It’s true, there were agents out of Paris on this in the beginning, but we’ve requested they back off and let us handle it. As for the local police, even your intelligence warned us not to take anyone else into our confidence. Chari might have a plant somewhere inside the local force. No one knows of this but your minister of security in Paris, four of his appointed agents—two of whom are missing—and our control in the States.”
“Plant?” she asked, looking confused. “Oh, someone put there to inform them. But how will you…contain the threat, as you say?”
“That’s not your concern,” he said abruptly. “I’ve got to go.”
Solange watched the woman agent approach Jack and take his hands in hers. It was a gesture that spoke of a close friendship. Or perhaps something more intimate. “You be careful out there, you hear me? You promised me a week in Paris and I have it in writing.”
“Like you’d let me forget it,” he said, giving the Amberson woman a tight but reassuring smile. “See you soon, Holly.”
“Yeah, see ya,” she repeated in a fierce whisper.
Solange followed Mercier down the stairs and slipped out the front door behind him.
The man called Will shook his hand. “Be seeing you, Jack.”
“Sure, take it easy,” Mercier answered.
Solange hurried around to the passenger side and got in, fastening her seat belt even before Jack settled behind the wheel.
It must be a tradition among the members of his small cadre not to say goodbye, Solange thought to herself. But she could hardly help wishing someone had at least wished them farewell.
She took a deep breath and looked in back at the sleeping René. She could only hope his father was glad to see him and his rescuers. Glad enough not to question whether they might have concealed their real reasons for imposing upon his hospitality.
Jack could do nothing but think about what he could be exposing this young woman to. He needed someone older, tougher. At the edge of the village, they passed a train station, dark now, deserted. He suddenly pulled over and stopped the car near a phone booth. “Do you have any euros?”
“Some. In my bag. You need them?”
He reached between the seats and retrieved