Dark Return

by DV Berkom

  “You’ll be fine if you keep your weight on the chair. I’m going to find the captain to see if there’s a way to evacuate the boat without causing a panic. I’ll be right back.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said in a small voice.

  “Don’t be. You did what you thought was right. Don’t. Move.” Leine headed toward the wheelhouse, scanning the passengers for signs of La Pointe’s man.

  When she reached the glassed-in area that housed the boat’s controls, she knocked on the door and peered through the blue-tinted windows. The captain lay in a heap on the floor. Blood soaked his crisp white shirt. She inspected the door handle for a tripwire before she eased the door open and slipped inside, careful not to cause alarm. None of the passengers noticed.

  She felt the captain’s throat for a pulse, but there was none. Then she checked the console. The boat had been placed on autopilot. A glance at the GPS told her they were headed straight for the stone support of the next bridge—the Pont de l’Alma.

  She was about to disengage the autopilot when she stopped. It was too easy. Why would the man who killed the captain leave the wheelhouse unlocked? La Pointe would have a contingency plan in place. Carefully, she checked underneath and around the control booth and found another bomb tucked up underneath the console. The wires from the steering mechanism and the bomb had been spliced together, telling her that if the autopilot was disengaged the bomb would go off.

  “What’s happening, Leine?” Jack’s voice over her earpiece sounded loud in the small space.

  “The captain’s dead. There’s a bomb connected to the autopilot. The killer is the man who was guarding Jinn, but I can’t find him. Do your guys have eyes on?”

  Jack checked with his team before he came back to Leine. “Negative. If we see him we’ll take him out.”

  “That’s a big negative. If anything happens to him, La Pointe’s threatening to kill me and the girl.”

  “Sniper?” he asked.

  “Yeah. We’ve got another problem. The kid’s sitting on a pressure plate with a bomb inside her backpack and underneath her seat.”

  “Jesus. You have to get everyone off that boat.”

  “I’ll tell the passengers to move to the stern. The boat looks like it’s made to handle the weight. Then I’ll try to get the pack off the kid.” Leine glanced back at Jinn. She was still sitting where she left her. Good girl.

  “Call Miller,” she continued. “Deploy the jammer. I don’t want to have to worry about some asshole getting antsy and detonating one of these bombs.”

  “Will do. I’ll work on clearing the next bridge.”

  “We don’t have a lot of time. The Pont de l’Alma is only a few minutes away, and according to the GPS the boat’s on course to hit one of the supports. I’m afraid if I try to override the autopilot it’ll blow.”

  “Copy that. We’ll do what we can.”

  Leine grabbed the radio and flipped it to the PA system, interrupting the pre-recorded commentary. “This is a message from your captain,” she said, putting urgency into her voice. “This is an emergency. Everyone please move to the rear of the boat. You need to clear the bow immediately. There is a bomb on the front of the boat.” She repeated the command in French, Spanish, and German, skipping Italian and Japanese, two languages she hadn’t practiced recently. She hoped it was enough.

  It was.

  As Leine expected, pandemonium ensued. Panicking, the crowded boat transferred en masse to the stern. By the expressions on people’s faces confusion and horror reigned, but at least they were headed in the right direction.

  Leine was about to leave the wheelhouse when one of the passengers stumbled and fell. A woman reached down to help him to his feet but screamed and backed away. Others nearby glanced at the floor. Two more people dropped to the deck.

  Someone shouted, “Gun!”

  42

  THE PASSENGERS SURGED back to reveal La Pointe’s man standing on the leeward side, a suppressed pistol in his hand.

  Panicking, the crowd rushed as one toward the stern in an attempt to put distance between themselves and the gunman. The bow lifted from the water but then held steady.

  “Shots fired,” Leine yelled into her mic. “The gunman is still on the boat.” She grabbed the PA and shouted, “Everyone, get down!” Several passengers dropped to the floor and hid under chairs, behind steel stanchions, and whatever else would give them cover. The gunman began walking toward her, shooting whoever got in his path.

  In a crouch, Leine backed out through the wheelhouse door. Mindful of keeping the steel uprights between her and the gunman, she slid the Glock from her holster and waited until he was under the awning and abreast of the wheelhouse, making him less visible from shore. He hadn’t seen her weapon but slowed as he drew near. Coming in low, he peered around the corner of the wheelhouse and Leine fired, hitting him in the shoulder. His gun clattered to the deck and he clutched his arm. She advanced and shot him again, this time hitting him in the chest. A look of anger flickered across his face before he pivoted and sprinted for the gunwales. Leine fired twice more, and he cartwheeled over the side.

  She checked the boat’s position. The bridge was close. Too close.

  I’ve got to get the passengers off.

  Leine raced back into the wheelhouse and grabbed the microphone. “Everybody off the boat. Now. There should be life vests under the seats. Do it! Now!”

  Her words had the desired effect. People scrambled for the life vests and shrugged them on. Several jumped overboard without a backward glance.

  “Jinn—listen to me,” she continued over the PA. “Keep your weight on the chair seat but get as low as you can. I’ll be right there.” Jinn scrunched low in her seat, making herself a smaller target.

  Leine pushed past the horrified crowd clamoring to get to the stern, headed toward the bow where Jinn sat by herself, alone in the row of empty chairs. La Pointe obviously hadn’t seen her man fall overboard, or the kid would likely be dead. Glad for the protection her body armor gave her, but wary of the sniper’s marksmanship, Leine dropped to a crouch and ran to her. Rounds pinged off the deck, following her progress.

  “Sniper,” she shouted into her mic. “Left Bank.”

  “Copy that.”

  She prayed Jack’s guys could identify the sniper’s location. Their return fire would be lost in the whine of the boat’s engines, so she wouldn’t know.

  The rounds continued, tapering off as she ran. They let up when she reached the kid.

  Either Jack’s guys found the sniper, or he’s afraid of detonating the bomb.

  “The sniper quit as soon as I got near the explosives,” she said into her mic. “Unless your guys found him, this boat isn’t their end game. Get the next two bridges cleared of pedestrians. Now.”

  “On it,” Jack replied. “I’m still searching for the gunman. I just got word that the French Navy is on its way to pick up the passengers. The police are on the scene and ready to deploy the jammer, and the CT guys have deployed drones, a gunfire locator, and the CIA is adding a helo with ARSS capabilities.” ARSS stood for Autonomous Rotorcraft Sniper System—a robot sniper system attached to a helicopter, that was operated by a laptop and used auto-correct software and had a stabilized turret that could fire ten .338 rounds per minute.

  Staying low, Leine grabbed as many items left behind by the passengers as she could and piled them next to Jinn. The red timer inside the pack caught her attention and she glanced inside. The LED display read 02:37... 2:36... 2:35...

  The timer was counting down.

  The burner phone on the seat near Jinn rang. Her nerves screaming, Leine picked it up. “What?”

  “If you do not stop what you are doing, I will have my sniper kill one passenger every second.” La Pointe’s rage was obvious by the hyper-controlled tone of her voice. “You will do as I say. Now.”

  “If you think I won’t do everything in my power to stop you, then you’re fucking delusio
nal.”

  “You will stop or—”

  “Or what?” Leine barked back, irritated beyond reason. La Pointe didn’t answer. She checked the signal. There was none. They deployed the jammer. That would take care of anyone wanting to detonate either bomb early. She dropped the phone and took a deep breath to steady her nerves.

  Screams filled the air as the sniper took pot-shots at the passengers jumping overboard, their heads bobbing like corks in the chilly Seine.

  C’mon, guys. Find that asshole.

  She tuned out the chaos and concentrated on the girl.

  Jinn had stopped crying and wore a stony expression. “We’re both going to die. And it’s all my fault.”

  “Stop it, Jinn. I know you were trying to help. I’m going to lift up your shirt to see what we’re dealing with, okay?”

  Jinn nodded. Leine lifted her sweatshirt to reveal a plastic coated wire running over her T-shirt and around her small torso, with another branching off and running down between her legs. She leaned the girl forward and checked behind her. The wire continued up her lower back and joined the other. Then she felt the pack to see how heavy it was.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Remember that story you told me about how you fell in with some bad people who wanted to use you in their gang because you were so small and could crawl into tight spaces?” Jinn nodded. “Well, I think you just might be able to use that skill again. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Then do exactly as I say.”

  Leine glanced up to gauge how much time she had before the boat made it to the next bridge. The stone piers loomed a short distance away. The display in the pack read two minutes. She scanned the bridge, but no one seemed to be leaving.

  Hurry up, guys. We don’t have much time.

  It was now or never. Leine was betting that the sniper couldn’t get a clear shot at them. By the direction the last rounds came from, she assumed the boat had passed by the nest, and the wheelhouse would obstruct his view for the time being.

  Unless La Pointe had more snipers positioned farther upstream.

  Keeping her voice steady, she told Jinn, “Okay. We need to remove your sweatshirt first.”

  Jinn pulled her arms through the sleeves, and Leine tugged it up and over her head, leaving her in a thin T-shirt. If the sniper could see them, he’d attempt to report her efforts to La Pointe. When he was unable to reach her on his mobile comms, he might go it alone and try for a head shot. She repositioned herself and hoped like hell he couldn’t see them.

  “Make yourself as small as you can,” she continued. “Pull your shoulders in and fold your arms in front of you.”

  “But you can’t pull it over my head. The wire—” Jinn protested.

  “I know. Don’t worry. I want you to lean back very carefully, keeping as much of yourself as you can on the seat of the chair. I’m going to pull the pack off from the bottom.”

  The unmistakable thwap of a helicopter’s rotors echoed through the urban canyon.

  That ought to get their attention.

  She checked their progress. The craft was almost to the bridge. A quick look at the top of the structure showed people scattering in both directions. Jack’s guys had started evacuating.

  She glanced over her shoulder to see how many passengers were left on board. A lone man wearing a life vest hesitated at the edge.

  “Jump!” Leine shouted at him. He must have heard her because a second later he was gone.

  She turned back to Jinn. “Ready?”

  Her face white, Jinn nodded.

  “I’m going to spread the straps as wide as I can and get you started by pulling you by the shoulders. When I say go, you need to wiggle out through the top. Then I’ll switch and pull from the bottom. Whatever you do, don’t break the wire around your chest.”

  “But what about the bomb under the chair? Won’t it go off if I’m not sitting on it?”

  “I’ll put pressure on the plate with my knees while you wiggle out. The pack is close to your weight. I’ll stack it along with all the other stuff I collected on the chair seat and hope like hell it’s enough. As soon as you’re free, jump over the side and swim as hard and fast as you can back the way we came. You can swim, right?”

  “Yes. I learned in the Mediterranean.” They locked eyes. Jinn’s shined with absolute trust. “I love you,” she said softly.

  Startled, Leine answered, “I love you too, kid. Now go!”

  Leine moved so her knees held down the edge of the pressure plate. She spread the straps on the pack and grasped her by the shoulders. Jinn slithered halfway out and stopped.

  “What?” Leine asked.

  “It’s stuck.”

  They had less than one minute. “Where?”

  “I think it’s my pants.”

  Leine gingerly shifted her position and slid her hand underneath Jinn. The wire had hung up on the waistband of her jeans. She unzipped them and gripped the wire and fabric with her fingers. “Now!”

  Leine pulled both sides of the waistband as Jinn slid free, clad in only a T-shirt and her underwear.

  “Go! Go! Go!” Leine yelled. Jinn ran to the edge of the boat and threw her leg over the side. Hesitating, she looked back, a range of emotions flickering across her face.

  “Dammit, kid. Go!” Leine yelled as she repositioned the pack and started piling the passengers’ belongings on top of it so the weight was distributed equally.

  The bridge loomed before them.

  “Not without you.”

  Fucking A. “Of course I’m coming!” Leine finished securing the items and bit her lip as she eased her weight off the chair.

  Nothing happened.

  She sprinted for the kid, grabbed Jinn by the waist, and dove overboard into the icy Seine.

  Leine bobbed to the surface. Stunned by the freezing water, she gasped. Choking and sputtering, Jinn popped up next to her. The two of them swam hard downstream as the river boat glided beneath the bridge.

  Seconds later, an earsplitting explosion cracked the air. A spectacular orange fireball erupted from the base of the bridge, followed by several additional explosions. The water rippled as the shockwave spread, pulsing across the river’s surface. Huge pieces of concrete and metal rocketed into the air as a section of the bridge shuddered and collapsed.

  Jinn’s head sank under. Leine swam to her and helped her back to the surface.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  The kid nodded. “I think so. The water’s so c-cold.”

  Downstream, another boat had stopped near the floating passengers while its crew fished the waterlogged tourists from the icy, dark water. A low-slung official-looking cruiser with the insignia of the French Navy floated next to them, doing the same from the other side. Strobe lights could be seen on both banks of the Seine, and the sound of French first responders wailed around them, echoing off the nearby buildings. A pair of helicopters swooped low and fast, searching for the sniper.

  Leine kept an eye on Jinn to make sure she was doing all right as they both started the long swim toward the rescue boats.

  “Merde!” Blanche La Pointe threw down the binoculars and snatched her phone from the window ledge. It wouldn’t connect. Someone’s jamming communications. She switched frequencies to call Damil. Struggling to keep her voice calm, she said, “Situation report.”

  Damil answered, “A section of the bridge has been destroyed—”

  “Not in Paris, you idiot. I can see that for myself. The rest of the targets. How many were successful?” Her shoulders tense, she drummed her fingers against her thigh as she paced the room. The woman from SHEN had survived. Not only that, but because of her, La Pointe’s plan had failed. Again.

  She would have to double her efforts to kill Leine Basso. It would become her main objective, once the dust settled from this debacle.

  There was a pause before he came back on the line and said, “So far, only eight of the thirteen have reported back.” />
  “And?” La Pointe demanded. Why was he so reticent?

  “It appears that our operatives have all been detained by police.”

  La Pointe froze. “What? How can this be?”

  “The authorities were waiting at each location.”

  La Pointe’s breath caught. Someone found the phone. It was the only explanation. If the informant wasn’t dead already, she would have killed him with her bare hands for his betrayal. In the future she would have to vet employees much more stringently. “But what of the children? And the bombs?” Surely, some targets had been destroyed. Even if one third of her plan came together, others would be lining up for her services.

  “I’ve checked the news outlets. There have been no bombings reported. Anywhere.”

  How could this be? La Pointe closed her eyes and willed her heart to stop racing. Everything was gone, all of it. The meticulous planning, the months of recruitment, the mountains of money she’d spent—gone in a puff of smoke. Opening her eyes, she straightened her spine.

  They would be looking for her. Leine Basso knew what she looked like, knew her voice. She’d have to change everything and start over. Again.

  A rage more powerful than any she’d experienced before flowed through her, filling every cell of her being and steeling her resolve. No matter what it took, she would destroy Leine Basso.

  And everyone she ever loved.

  43

  THE NEXT MORNING, after Leine and Jack had been debriefed by Paul Miller at the CIA’s Paris Station, and submitted their reports to Interpol and the appropriate French authorities, they took a taxi to SHEN offices in the Latin Quarter to meet with Lou.

  Thanks to the information contained on the informant’s phone detailing La Pointe’s plan, as well as evidence from Leine, Interpol and Paul Miller had been able to coordinate quickly enough with law enforcement agencies to stop each of the planned bombings. All but three of the missing children had been recovered, and only one of the backpack bombs had detonated, other than the one used in Paris. No one had been hurt.