Without hesitation, he opened the door to follow al-Aman.
“Sir, you can’t―” Boudet began before he was cut off.
“Let the team know I’m tailing al-Aman. Have them coordinate with me when they reach my location,” Van Pierce said, then he slipped into the crowd of people.
* * *
Gavreau was positioned outside the Place des Terreaux, in a discreet position that gave him a broad view of the area. He gritted his teeth at the call he just received from Boudet. Marvin Van Pierce was actively pursuing a man that may be on their list of suspected terrorist group members.
Gavreau didn’t want anyone but RAID personnel active in the area.
Van Pierce was experienced, but the possible confusion and chaos of having a foreigner, a civilian at that, active in the operation didn’t sit well with the task force leader. Still, without the American’s help, Gavreau’s team may not have spotted the extra player.
Van Pierce didn’t have a radio with him, however, which made the situation even more frustrating. After a moment of thought, he thumbed his own radio.
“Unit Two, as soon as you get there, you relieve Mr. Van Pierce and have him stand down.”
“Oui.” The response came over the radio quickly.
Gavreau set his focus back on observing the square while listening to the updates from the team following el-Nazar.
“―heading toward the cafe, on the east side of the fountain. This might be the meeting spot,” one of the RAID members said.
“Alright, stay on him and let us know if he leaves. All units, I want you to scan everyone in the area. Find anyone that might be there to meet him,” Gavreau said.
After a minute of updates being radioed in, one transmission caught the task leader’s attention.
“El-Nazar made contact with someone. They split up, the new target is moving southeast.”
Gavreau prepared to coordinate his team to account for the new player when the radio channels lit up.
“He’s got a bomb!”
“El-Nazar―”
The radio transmission cut off a split second before Gavreau heard the explosions.
* * *
Marvin Van Pierce worked his way through the crowd, tailing his target from a reasonable distance. He was a little rusty from years of not being out in the field, but found his skills were recalled pretty easily.
Al-Aman crossed the street and entered the Place des Terreaux from the southwest corner. He stayed on the outer edge, slowing and eventually stopping. He glanced around casually across the public square.
A tremendous sculptured fountain, the Fontaine Bartholdi, dominated the center of the Place des Terreaux. It featured a woman on a chariot, controlling four horses, each representing the four great rivers of France. Crowds gathered around the sculpture, sitting at the outdoor tables set up under canopies for the nearby restaurants.
Al-Aman turned his gaze toward Marvin, but Van Pierce was sure to not make eye contact with his target, instead, pretending to study the large fountain in the square.
Next, Van Pierce swept his gaze across the area, looking for the other RAID members. There were too many people around for him to make a positive ID on any of them, however.
When he looked back, he saw al-Aman reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket. Van Pierce moved closer, his focus like a laser on his target. Panicked voices suddenly screamed out from across the square. In the next instant, they were cut off by a deafening explosion.
Van Pierce tore his eyes off al-Aman, and toward the blast. He felt the concussive force press against his chest, even this far away from the explosion, and saw smoke and dust rising in the northeast corner of the square, just past the fountain. Confusion and fear took the crowd. Then it turned to outright chaos and panic when the second blast went off.
He saw the second explosion this time. It was a suicide bomber, also on the far side of the square, in the southeast corner. While he turned his attention back to al-Aman, Van Pierce whipped his hand to the back of his right hip, a pure reflex, and found the spot where he carried his pistol for so many years empty. He saw his target holding a small device now, staring into the crowd of people.
The two explosions caused a panic as terror washed over everyone like the fire and heat from the blasts themselves. They ran away from the death and destruction, and out of the square. Sudden horror dawned on Van Pierce. The two explosions had occurred on the other end of the public square, detonated in a position that would force the panicked bystanders to move in this direction. Lambs led to the slaughter. Right into the position of al-Aman, the third bomber.
Van Pierce cursed himself for being too late to catch the attacks, but he sprang into action, knowing he had to do something right now. He bolted for al-Aman, shoving people away, and shouting a warning to the bystanders. He shot in low and buried his shoulder into al-Aman’s midsection. The momentum of his body carried the man off his feet.
Van Pierce wouldn’t be able to stop this blast, but he would try to minimize the damage it could cause. He plowed the man into the street, between a panel truck and a van that stopped after the first explosion.
The two men landed partially under the delivery truck when the explosives engulfed al-Aman and Van Pierce in fire and fury.
Head of the Serpent
The Manning Brothers
CHAPTER
3
“At approximately eleven a.m. local time, nine a.m. Greenwich Mean Time, three men detonated explosives devices strapped to their bodies, in the Place des Terreaux, located in Lyon, France.
John stared at his television in silence, watching the news report about the terrorist attack in France.
“The damage in the public square is extensive. Ten people have been confirmed dead at this time, and at least fifty people have been injured by the blasts. Once again, The Four Serpents have claimed responsibility for this horrific terrorist attack. In a video statement released―”
A sense of dread formed in the pit of his stomach. John stood and walked to the phone, each step only serving to intensify his fears. He had to call to make sure Marvin Van Pierce was okay. The phone rang right as he grabbed hold of it.
John closed his eyes and brought the receiver up to his ear. “Hello.”
“John, it’s Parker,”
Hearing Parker Lewis’ voice confirmed his worst fears. Before joining the Hostile Response Division, John had saved Parker’s life. He was a brilliant if eccentric computer specialist for the HRD.
“Parker. I need to call Van Pierce. He may be hurt,” John said.
“John, I―I’m sorry. Van Pierce is dead,” Parker said.
John’s fist tightened over the phone receiver, nearly crushing it in his grip. Deep down he knew it was the truth. Parker wouldn’t be calling John to get more information. If he was calling, that meant he already knew the situation.
“Are you sure?” John asked, holding out hope that his gut was wrong.
“Yes. Marvin told me about his assignment after he spoke with you. The moment I heard the news about the attack, I scoured around for everything I could about it. Officers on the scene confirmed his identity 10 minutes ago. It hasn’t gone public yet.”
Numbness set in, as John’s vision swam. He clutched the phone tighter and sat at the chair next to the small table.
“Are you alright, John?” Parker asked.
John sat in silence for what felt like hours, before finally answering.
“I should have gone with him. If I was there, maybe―”
“There’s nothing you could have done. It was a coordinated attack that no one was prepared for. If you were there with Marvin, you might be dead too.”
John knew Parker was right but had a hard time accepting it. Parker’s words hit John deeply, but at that moment he had made a decision.
“I’m going to France. I need to know what happened,” John said, resigned.
“John, what do you think you can accomplish there? We aren’t with the HRD anymore. Ju
st stay there, and I’ll find out what I can,” Parker said. “Please.”
John’s neck and jaw tightened. “I’m leaving tonight.”
“Then let me come with you. I can help,” Parker started.
“No, it’s dangerous. I don’t want you to risk your life over this,” John said.
“But it’s okay if you do?” Parker asked.
“This isn’t your responsibility. I could have helped Van Pierce, but now I need answers. I owe him that much.”
Parker let out a sigh on the other end. “Alright John, please be careful. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I owe him too.”
CHAPTER
4
Shoulders brushing the walls of the narrow alleyway, a burly man strode through the back entrance of a small printing shop. The whirring and clattering of machines replaced the bustle of activity from outside. The man widened his eyes, waiting for them to adjust to the darkness before proceeding.
He stepped into a backroom, shuffled to one corner, and greeted three men sitting around a table. The man facing him, Azhaar bin Hashim, nodded as he took another drag from his cigarette.
“Praise be to Allah,” the man said with his head bowed.
“What do you have for me?” bin Hashim asked as smoke puffed out between syllables.
The man produced a small tablet computer. He tapped the screen a few times and handed the device over to the leader.
Bin Hashim examined the information, the blue LED glow lighting his face from underneath, casting his features with a more sinister appearance. Satisfied, he nodded and placed the device casually on the center of the table.
“Is this information accurate?” he asked.
“Yes. We have confirmation that the German survived,” the man said.
Bin Hashim thought over the information for a minute, taking another drag from his cigarette.
He blew out a stream of smoke. “Send someone to Hôpital de la Croix-Rousse. Find the German, and finish what we started,” bin Hashim said. “The next phase of our plan is too important. We must tie up all loose ends.”
The man nodded to the leader of the Four Serpents, and walked out, exiting through the back door where he entered.
“What should we do now?” one of the other men at the table asked.
“Proceed as planned. The doctor will be in town soon. Have the men ready to move when they hear from me,” bin Hashim said, stabbing the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray.
The men nodded and stood. Bin Hashim could see they all knew what was expected of them, working toward the same goal. He clutched the medallion around his neck, four snakes entwined around the world, before tucking it into his shirt.
The Four Serpents would strike fear into the hearts of the west. They would crush the spirit of the enemy. The world would not be able to deny them for long.
CHAPTER
5
Lyon, France
Grabbing his bag and looping the strap over his shoulder, John draped his light jacket over one arm as he stepped out of the cab. He had difficulty sleeping on the long flight, thinking about Van Pierce and the terrorist attack from the previous day.
His head hurt, and his joints creaked and protested as he stretched on the sidewalk. Knowing the police would have the area restricted, John had to walk the several remaining blocks to the Place des Terreaux. While the city was far from busy, the amount of activity near the attack surprised John.
He got a feel for the block and the people as he approached his destination. The pain and fear evident in their actions, the people carried out their day to day activities nonetheless. An act of defiance showing the terrorists that they were still strong and unafraid after the attack.
John brought only a laptop, and a change of clothes, on top of the few travel necessities with him, opting to travel light. Everything he needed was with him in the bag around his shoulder. Except for a weapon. He knew traveling abroad meant going in unarmed, but he didn’t expect a second attack in the same location so soon.
Much of the initial investigation had already happened the day before, but the police still had the entire block taped off. Investigators buzzed around, gathering evidence at the blast sites, and taking pictures of everything that appeared out of place.
Several officers diverted traffic to different routes, creating more confusion and congestion. The honking and understandable frustration gave John enough cover to get closer. He walked the perimeter of the Place des Terreaux, looking over the area and paying particular attention to the three locations where the terrorists detonated their bombs.
During the flight, he pored over all of the information Parker sent him, including news stories providing an already out of date account of the events of the attack. He crossed the police barrier to look at the spot where the third device went off, studying the two vehicles damaged in the explosion.
The blast pattern revealed that the device exploded under the back end of the more massive truck. The detonation shredded the tires and left the rear bumper in shambles. The entire back end of the vehicle crumpled upward. Bits of broken glass littered the street and sidewalk, from the shattered windows of both trucks and the nearby shops.
This is where Marvin Van Pierce died. John took a moment to reflect on the man. They had known each other only for a short time, but Van Pierce still risked his life and career to save him, and clear his name, when John faced treason charges. Tightening his fists, John vowed that he would find the ones responsible for Marvin Van Pierce’s death.
According to Parker’s reports, Van Pierce’s final act of sacrifice had saved many more lives. Tackling the suicide bomber under the truck contained a significant portion of the blast, significantly reducing the number of casualties the third blast caused to the frightened people fleeing the first two explosions.
“A hero to the end,” John said quietly, looking to the clear blue sky.
“Que fais-tu ici?” a voice snapped John out of his thoughts.
He turned to see a stern man in black fatigues and gloves. He wore a tactical vest, with a name tag that read Gavreau. John hadn’t spoken French in many years, and he was caught off guard for a moment.
“I’m sorry, I don’t speak―”
“What are you doing here?” Gavreau interrupted, speaking heavily accented English now. “This is no place for tourists right now.”
“Just looking around. My friend was here yesterday,” John said.
Gavereau furrowed his brow. “This is still an active crime scene. You cannot be here right now.”
“His name was Marvin Van Pierce. He was here working as a consultant with you,” John said.
The man’s face softened, and his tone changed to match.
“I am sorry, sir, but you cannot be here. This area is not open to the public right now. You must go,” Gavreau said.
The two stood to face each other for a few tense seconds. Gavreau was every inch as tall as John, though his build was leaner than the Ranger’s muscular bulk. Another man in the same military-style uniform walked at a brisk pace toward Gavreau. His name tag read Brassard.
They spoke in French using lowered voices so John couldn’t hear, much less understand, what was being said.
“Let me help," John said. "I worked with Van Pierce, and I have experience dealing with terrorists.”
Gavreau looked up from his conversation. “No, we do not need your help. This is official police business.”
“Alright. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to look around just a little more. I won’t step on any toes.”
“We cannot have civilians in our crime scene,” Gavereau said. “We do not want to deal with the international problems if an American tourist got hurt nosing around. Stay out of this, or I will have you arrested.”
Brassard spoke to John. “I apologize, sir, but this situation is delicate. We must ask you to move beyond the barrier around this square, please.” His English had almost no accent, and his tone was calmer.
> John nodded to Brassard and Gavreau, then turned and left the Place des Terreaux.
He had no intention of staying out of this, but for now, he would have to operate from the shadows to avoid arrest. He shouldered his bag and pulled out his phone to arrange for a cab to take him to a hotel.
From there, he would be able to dig deeper into Parker’s research, using what he saw on site to put more of the pieces together, and gain a better understanding of the events that transpired.
CHAPTER
6
John sat at the small desk in his hotel room. He opted for the most basic of comforts, a single bed, bathroom, and mini office. By all accounts, this room would be considered more cozy than utilitarian, but it served all his needs for now.
The laptop beeped and whirred as it came to life, ready to work. John wanted to reread the data Parker sent before he left, but enough time had passed that footage from other people in the area started popping up online.
He watched every available video, sometimes bringing two different videos side by side, in order to build a mental picture of the attack. Parker wasn’t able to secure any of the footage from the CCTV cameras mounted around the scene, so he had to watch only way was publicly available, uploaded to various social media and video sharing sites.
All of the footage had been taken by mobile phones or handheld cameras. In the chaos and confusion, it was difficult for John to make heads or tails of the necessary details he needed. Without any type of image stabilization, discerning directions, or even number of attackers was next to impossible.
Rubbing his temples and then his eyes with his fingertips, John felt every second of the two hours he had just spent watching and re-watching the videos that he thought held the most promise. Still, it was a futile venture. “This is going to be impossible without the footage from the city’s cameras.”
Head of the Serpent Page 2