Page 84 of The Wolves Come at Night
The pilot came over the intercom. “We expect to be on the ground in Paris just after 2400 hours local. Smooth flight.”
The plane began to move, and things inside were quiet. Having flown commercial to Europe on several occasions, Taylor was pleased to hear the time of the trip was cut almost in half by the big Gulfstream’s capacity. She snuggled into the seat and watched Angelie pretend to sleep.
Not so quick, lady.
“So, Paris?” Taylor hinted.
Nothing.
“Paris is lovely this time of year, I hear.”
Again, nothing.
“Any particular place in Paris? It’s a rather large city.”
“The Seventh,” Angelie said, without opening her eyes.
“Any particular part of the Seventh?”
“A building.”
“Come on, Angelie. You have to brief me on what you’re planning. If we’re going to work together, you should know I do like to think through what I’m doing before I just ride off into battle.”
After a beat, Angelie’s eyes opened. She glanced at Santiago, who nodded.
“She has the right to know.”
“You have gotten soft, Santi,” the assassin said, then looked at Taylor directly.
“D’accord,” Angelie said. “Fine. We are going to pay a visit to a man in the Seventh arrondissement who has worked with Game very recently. He is going to give us access to Game’s bank account. Santi and his people will do a forensic accounting, which will give us the locations he’s most recently visited and any holdings he has where he might be hiding Carson. While that happens, you and I will talk with the man directly. He is known as La Boulanger.”
“The Baker? Let me guess—because he cooks the books?”
The assassin’s eyes narrowed. “I did not know you spoke French, Taylor.”
“I don’t. Not really. I had an au pair from Avignon when I was ten. I barely remember a thing.”
Angelie continued studying her, but Santiago laughed. “Better watch what you say, Ange. You never know who’s listening.”
The assassin ignored him, instead eyed Taylor speculatively. “It must have been lovely, growing up with your family.”
“Did you hear me say au pair? I was raised by a series of young women. Strangers. My parents had better things to do.”
“But your parents were in proximity to you? You lived with them, had meals, yes?”
“I might have shared their house, but if you know anything about me, you must know that my family and I don’t get along.”
“Yes, I do know. Still. You had the option.” She looked out the window, and said gruffly, “Get some sleep. We will be there in four hours.”
“Not until you run me through the actual ‘plan.’” Taylor made little quotes with her fingers, feeling both reckless and exhilarated. She was poking the bear, she knew this, but damn if she was going to let the assassin play games with her. Diaz was clearly enjoying this byplay, but Angelie sighed in annoyance before sitting up and cracking open a bottle of water.
“As a member of Macallan, it is expected that you will have accounts that are both untraceable, and accessible at all times, from anywhere you might be. This allows you to move freely throughout the world. With a call to La Boulanger, a wire transfer happens, and your money is available, anywhere, anytime. He is discreet and subservient, and we have enough information about him to keep him in line should Interpol or another agency ever come calling. They never have, and part of that is his natural discretion. The other, of course, is Thierry’s influence. Many of us use La Boulanger for this purpose. Game most certainly does, this I have confirmed.”
“Okay. And?”
“We will go in and set up your accounts. It is something that must be done in person, with a reference. He would never take a new client otherwise. You will pose as my assistant. We cannot bring weapons, we will never get past the guards and the electronics. The house is camera-heavy, too, so you’re going to want to be aware of your posture and the angle of your chin. We’re not trying to hide you, but you don’t need to be staring at the cameras, either. Once we’re in, you’ll distract him while I get what we need.”
“Distract him, how?”
