Page 89 of Shadow of Doubt

CHAPTER 47

PARIS

Brunelle arrived just as the tactical team was getting ready to make entry. A plainclothes agent had quietly awakened the building’s concierge and gotten the key for Amir’s apartment. There would be no need for battering rams or blowing doors off hinges—although the team was prepared for such eventualities if they became necessary.

Falling in at the rear of the stack, Brunelle followed the team up the stairs. They paused just outside Amir’s door.

Because this was a dynamic entry, speed, surprise, and domination were the goals.

When the team leader gave the signal, the breacher slipped the key into the lock and twisted it slowly to the left. When the lock released, he pushed the door open and stood aside, at which point the team flooded into the apartment.

They found Amir in the second of the two bedrooms, sitting in his underwear and a T-shirt at his computer. The tactical team yelled at him to get down on the floor.

Once they had him secured with flex cuffs, they slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth, yanked a hood down over his head, and began bagging up all of his computer equipment.

Brunelle helped with the search of the apartment, making certain that the officers had also retrieved Amir’s phone. From start to finish, the entire operation had taken less than six minutes.

As they prepared to leave the apartment, a call came over the radiofrom the plainclothes agent outside. Gibert had arrived. Brunelle told the agent that she’d be right down.

After issuing a handful of instructions to the team, she exited the building and found Gibert standing near his car.

“Plainclothes lookout,” he said, nodding toward the agent. “Another in an unmarked tactical van double-parked down the street. Obviously, you’re here for a party. The only question—is it about to start, or is it already over?”

“A little bit of both,” Brunelle admitted as she looked at her watch. “Listen, I need a favor and I don’t have a lot of time.”

Gibert laughed. “Of course you do. Why else would you call me up in the middle of the night and tell me you needed to see me right away. What’s the favor?”

Wanting to get out of earshot of the plainclothes agent, she asked, “Can we walk?”

The cop agreed. As they walked, he pulled a pack of cigarettes out and offered her one. She accepted. He lit hers and then his own.

Brunelle took a deep drag.

Satisfied that the plainclothes agent was far enough away, she exhaled and said, “I know why Jadot was murdered.”

Gibert was stunned. “Why?”

“Powell was right.”

“The CIA station chief?”

Brunelle nodded. “Remember when he said that Jadot was worried the Russians might have burrowed deep into the French government? He was spot-on. It’s bad.”

“How bad?”

“The Russians have spies inside the ministries of Interior, Armed Forces, Justice, Foreign Affairs, and Finance. Jadot uncovered evidence that even the DGSI and the DGSE have been compromised.”

“My God,” the cop exclaimed. “That is bad.Verybad.”

“It gets worse. Jadot also implicated one of the president’s closest advisors, the minister of foreign affairs. It’s a shitstorm and there’s not going to be an umbrella big enough to protect any of these people. Jadot found all the receipts—bank statements, money transfers, all of it.”

“And this was what he was bringing to Powell? This is why he had asked for the breakfast? The one he never showed up for?”

Once again, Brunelle nodded. “Somehow, someone figured out that he was onto it and had him killed.”

“With an ice axe,” said Gibert. “Just like Trotsky.”

“Sends a message, doesn’t it?When you cross Russia, you do so at your peril.”

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