Merging Destiny

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Merging Destiny Page 11

by D. Allen Henry


  Chapter 8

  Crossing the Channel

  London – A Week Later

  Elspeth had been loaned an office down the hall from Connor’s. She suspected that Connor had been assigned to keep an eye on her, but she really didn’t care. Other than this irksome intrusion, she had more freedom to pursue whatever she deemed important than she’d ever had within the CIA, or even the DIA, for that matter. Accordingly, she quickly dispensed with the main purpose of her field deployment within the U.K. and, driven by a new hunch, she diverted her attentions to that mysterious character Abdullah Al-Khoury. Reasoning that he might in fact be the monetary source behind Farhan’s recent activities, she sought to trace Al-Khoury’s recent financial transactions, thereby shedding light on Al Qaeda’s next move.

  Within days she hit pay dirt, a string of transactions more or less proving that Al-Khoury had financed every terrorist activity that Farhan Rahman had ever participated in. At this point, her suspicions growing exponentially, she decided to check records all the way back to the time when she had attended Harvard. To her amazement, she was able to verify that Al-Khoury had even paid for Farhan’s tuition during his time in Boston. What the heck was going on? It was a long shot, but could there actually be a link between James Moorehead and Abdullah Al-Khoury?

  Sabrina had indicated that her husband Sloan had killed James sometime in 1970. Had James met Al-Khoury somewhere in Egypt shortly before his death? Following up on this possibility, Elspeth checked further records at Harvard, and to her surprise, not only had Farhan’s education been paid for by Al-Khoury, both Anna’s and Connor’s fees had also been paid by Al-Khoury! She was now certain that Abdullah Al-Khoury and James Moorehead were somehow linked to one another. But from there the trail grew cold, very cold indeed.

  The Following Day

  Surprised to hear the phone ring so early in the morning, Elspeth set down her morning coffee, tugged it to her ear and croaked, “Hello?”

  “Elspeth, is that you?” the voice responded.

  “Anna! Is it really you?”

  “Yes, Elspeth, it really is me. I’ve managed to get out, and it’s all because of you.”

  “What exactly do you mean, Anna?”

  “It’s very simple – as long as Farhan was in control, I was forced to do his bidding. And although I was never forced to do anything illegal, I was his wife for all these years. And let me tell you – I was a prisoner. There is no other way to describe it. He had a hold over me, and there was nothing I could do about it. But after you uncovered the plot in London, Farhan was barred from traveling to the West. Due to your efforts I managed to escape Egypt across the Gaza Strip a week ago, and two days later I caught a flight to Istanbul from Tel Aviv.”

  “So where are you now?”

  “I’m in Paris! I traveled here by train from Istanbul.”

  “Wow! Why don’t you come to London for a visit, just for old time’s sake?”

  “I can’t, Elspeth. Because I am married to Farhan, I’m on the terrorist list. Frankly, I was fortunate to be able to get this far.”

  “Oh, right, I knew that.”

  “Elspeth, I am still in danger. You must come to Paris immediately. It is a matter of life and death. Please, you must come!”

  At this Elspeth rubbed her forehead for a moment, then agreed, “Alright, Anna. I will catch the afternoon chunnel train. I should be there before nightfall.”

  “Perfect! You can reach me at this number. I’ll talk to you soon, Elspeth. Bye!”

  “Bye Anna.”

  Paris – Late Afternoon That Same Day

  Standing within the cover of the building alcove, Elspeth adjusted the wire, and just to be sure, she checked the pistol to make sure it was loaded and ready. Satisfied, she turned to Connor and announced, “I think I’m as ready as I shall ever be.”

  “Good,” Connor replied, “We shall have sharpshooters on the top of The Gendarmes Headquarters just in case you need backup.”

  “I know, but I do so hope that none of this will be necessary. I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Anna, and even though this precaution is necessary, I’ve always believed that she wasn’t involved in all of this.”

  “Right. We’re about to find out. I suppose it will close the loop on it, all those years ago in Boston.”

  “Yes, indeed. So I’m off. She should be in the square by the time I arrive.” And with that, Elspeth set off for Notre Dame, the assigned place for her reunion with Anna. Fifteen years had passed, and along with it the entire world she had known. Now, the final piece of the puzzle was coming into focus, and in a few minutes Elspeth would surely have some of the answers.

  Rounding the corner from the direction of the Pont Neuf, Elspeth could see Notre Dame Cathedral rising above the square directly in front of her. And there, within the square stood perhaps a thousand people, many of them standing in line to enter the cathedral. It was a bright and sunny day, one that Elspeth prayed would not end in sadness.

  She made her way toward the appointed place directly in front of the cathedral, but as she neared the spot she noticed a woman standing alone in a full-bodied black burka. Unfortunately, because the woman was facing away from her, it was not possible to make out if it was Anna.

  Fear suddenly welling up within her, Elspeth opted for a circuitous route and, circling round from the right, she passed by the gargantuan statue of Charlemagne. As she did so, she moved closer, but just when she had reached within earshot of the woman in black, the woman turned and their eyes met – those pale blue eyes.

  The woman immediately screamed at the top of her lungs, “RUN! Elspeth! RUN!”

  Elspeth immediately turned on her heel and raced for the cover of the base of the statue of Charlemagne, and just as she reached it she was struck by an enormous explosion.

  An Hour Later

  From her perch on the tail end of the ambulance, Elspeth surveyed the carnage strewn about the cordoned-off square. By now the emergency medical crews had triaged all of the badly injured, and here and there the lightly injured were still being treated. But Elspeth couldn’t help returning her gaze repeatedly to the white sheets, here and there covering bodies in a tight pattern near where she had last seen Anna.

  Connor momentarily trotted up to her for the third time since the explosion, exclaiming in overwrought concern, “Elspeth! How are you feeling? Any better?”

  “I still have a splitting headache, but they tell me it’s not serious,” she stammered dejectedly.

  “That’s certainly good news,” he responded in obvious relief, and then, surveying the horrific scene before them, he murmured, “It was bad, really bad.”

  In response she exclaimed irritably, “Damn! I really screwed up. We should have cornered her before she got to the square. Are there any traces of her?”

  “No, nothing more than a few scraps of black cloth. She was blown to bits, I’m afraid.”

  At this she gazed upwards at him and blurted, “I wish we’d closed the square, Connor.”

  “We discussed that, Elspeth,” he responded, “Had we closed the square she wouldn’t have shown up, and then where would we have been?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” she responded, “If we’d just had more time to react. How many killed?”

  “Surprisingly, only nineteen at the moment. Quite a few wounded, though. One or two may yet die, but all in all, it could have been worse.”

  Surveying the damage for the umpteenth time, she replied, “I doubt it very seriously. Damn, we could have avoided all this.”

  “She’d never have shown up. You know that.”

  “Yes, of course I do. Damn - I was so sure she wasn’t in on it.”

  At this Connor arched an eyebrow and, changing the subject, he announced, “Elspeth, you were dead right – We’ve just been informed that Al Qaeda has claimed responsibility for the bombing.”

  “But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t
involved, Connor.”

  “Perhaps, but the vermin who is claiming responsibility is none other than Farhan Rahman.”

  Gazing at him in hopeless acceptance, she blurted, “Why am I not surprised?”

  “It gets better,” he responded, “It appears that Farhan is the local operative in charge.”

  “Oh, my God! Anna said he’d been barred from leaving Egypt.”

  “Right,” he mumbled, but at that moment his cellphone rang. Raising it to his ear, he blurted, “Stuart here,” and after a pause, he continued with, “Right, we shall be there as quickly as possible.” With that he replaced the phone in his pocket and, turning to her, he inquired, “Are you good to go, Elspeth?”

  Newfound concern apparent on her face, she responded, “Yes, of course.”

  “Well then, we’d best be off. They’ve heard from Farhan, and they believe that he is still in Paris, so we’d best get to Police Headquarters. They are demanding that we two report in, as we seem to be the only two people in Paris who actually know Farhan.”

  Peering in the direction he was pointing, she exclaimed, “Right then, let’s get going.”

  DGSI Headquarters – An Hour Later

  Elspeth seated herself within the conference room, an assemblage of additional persons rapidly filling the seats arranged around the conference table. Shortly thereafter, Director Mirabeau entered the room.

  Making his way briskly to the head of the table, he announced in a French accent, “Ladies and Gentlemen, please be seated. Under normal circumstances we would be speaking in French, but in deference to our colleagues from MI6, I shall speak in English. Anyone who does not speak English may listen to a translation on the headphones supplied throughout the room.” At this he paused a moment and then recommenced with, “Here is what we know. Two hours ago a bomb was set off directly in front of Notre Dame cathedral. At this moment there are nineteen dead, and an additional fifty-six wounded, six of whom are in critical condition. Al Qaeda has claimed responsibility for the bombing, thereby confirming that it was an act of terrorism.

  “We were forewarned of the possibility of the bombing by Miss Elspeth Moorehead, seated on my left,” and so saying, he pointed to Elspeth, then continued with, “Ms. Moorehead is a CIA agent currently detached to MI6 in London, and it just so happens that she is a personal acquaintance of one Anna Morton Rahman. She is accompanied by MI6 Agent Connor Stuart, also an acquaintance of Ms. Rahman. Ms. Moorehead was telephoned in London earlier today by Ms. Rahman, who was the spouse of Farhan Rahman, a known high-ranking member of Al Qaeda. We have thus far been able to determine that Ms. Rahman, who was killed by the explosion, was the person who carried the bomb. An hour ago we received confirmation that Al Qaeda has claimed responsibility for the bombing.” He then paused for a moment and, allowing this information to sink in, he took a sip from a glass of water and then recommenced.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, now comes the critical part – Ms. Rahman’s husband Farhan Rahman is apparently leading this terrorist operation, and we believe him to be at this moment within Paris proper. We also believe that Al Qaeda may be planning additional terrorist acts within Paris, and these actions may in fact be imminent.” At this he paused to let the import of his words sink in yet again. The initial shock having sunk in, several hands immediately went up in the air.

  Holding his hands up to mitigate the impending pandemonium, the director exclaimed, “There is no time for questions at this moment. We must act in accordance with our terrorist defense plan. Accordingly, we have cordoned off Paris. No one is allowed in or out by train, automobile, or air, and these security measures will remain in effect until the immediate threat has been neutralized. Furthermore, all tourist sites have been closed, and all citizens and visitors to Paris are being told to move indoors to a place of safety.”

  At that moment a person rushed into the room and whispered something in the director’s ear. A look of shock coming over his face, he exclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that the next attack has already begun. Paris Security Police report that terrorists have attacked the Eiffel Tower. I’m afraid I must curtail this meeting immediately. Miss Moorehead, Mr. Stuart, please accompany me,” and with this rather curt dismissal he hastily departed the room, trailed by the two agents.

  Once in the corridor, he instructed the pair, “Please, follow me – quickly, please!”

  Chasing after him, Elspeth inquired breathlessly, “Where to, sir?”

  Glancing over his shoulder, he barked, “Why, to the Eiffel Tower, of course. I shall fill you in on the way.”

  Moments later the three of them raced outside, jumped into an awaiting vehicle, and off they sped in the general direction of the Eiffel Tower. As they did so, the director explained, “There were apparently six of them. They sky-dived onto the first level of the tower shortly after dark. Given the darkness, they were able to land unnoticed, and unfortunately, they managed to kill all of the security personnel on that deck within minutes, along with an untold number of tourists. The terrorists subsequently knocked out all power to the tower, thereby shutting down the elevators so that no one is able get in our out other than by stairway. The remaining survivors on the first level have been forced by the terrorists to descend the corner staircases, thereby temporarily impeding any attempt by security personnel to mount a counteroffensive from the ground. Unfortunately, there were only two security personnel on the second level, and four of the six terrorists subsequently managed to climb all the way to that level, in the process killing both security personnel on that level as well.”

  “Oh, my God,” Elspeth exclaimed, “So there is no communication with either the first or second level of the tower?”

  “Not exactly. It seems that our people on the ground have managed to make contact with several of the tourists on the second level via cellphone. And of course, we have direct contact with the four security personnel on the top level.”

  “How long before we get there?” Connor put in.

  “We’re almost there now,” the director observed. “And we should arrive before the terrorists get too far above the second level. And with any luck, our security personnel will be able to neutralize them when they reach the top level.”

  “How many people are still within the tower, director?” Elspeth queried.

  “I’m not sure. Apparently, they have managed to send a fair number down the stairways from the lowest deck. Unfortunately, the two upper levels are cut off, the terrorists denying any possibility of either ascent or descent above the first level.”

  “Any idea what the capacity of the two upper levels is, sir?” Connor asked.

  “Yes, about three hundred on the second deck, and two hundred on the top level. Our security people are currently attempting to get an estimate, but we need to be prepared for the possibility that both levels are filled with tourists who are now hostages.”

  “If my guess is correct, the reason there were six of them was so that two of them could control level one of the tower, and two could control level two, thus leaving two to bomb the upper portion of the tower,” Connor advised.

  “Perhaps, but I doubt that a bombing is their primary objective,” Elspeth volunteered.

  “Oh?” the director blurted in apparent astonishment, “What makes you say that, Ms. Moorehead?”

  “This will sound absurd, but I believe that they are actually after me, sir.”

  His confusion at such a preposterous assumption readily apparent, he exclaimed, “What! Surely you’re joking, Ms. Moorehead!”

  “No, sir. I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

  “Please explain.”

  “Sir, I believe that Farhan is being directed by Abdullah Al-Khoury, one of the most heinous characters that ever walked the face of the Earth.”

  “Yes, I am aware of that,” he responded, “But what has that got to do with you?”

  “Ah, there is the riddle to end all riddles, sir.
It appears that Al-Khoury is in some way connected to my late grandfather, James Moorehead, who also appears to have sired Anna Morton Rahman, the woman who blew herself to bits in front of Notre Dame today, as well as Farhan Rahman himself.”

  “Oh, my God!” the director babbled, “Are you telling me this is nothing more than a family squabble?”

  “No, sir, far from it. However, it appears that it started out that way. You see, my grandfather on my mother’s side, Sloan Stewart, and James Moorehead were classmates at Harvard University quite a long time ago, and for some reason that I am not aware, they had a falling out. I believe that Al-Khoury is acting on behalf of James Moorehead in an attempt to get even with Sloan Stewart.”

  “Wait a minute,” the director interrupted, “That must have been many years ago!”

  “Yes, sir, you are quite correct. In fact, both Sloan and James are now deceased, but Al-Khoury was somehow convinced by James to carry out his vendetta even after his passing.”

  His eyes growing wide in shock, the director posited, “Incredible! And you think that Farhan Rahman is at this moment in Paris to carry out Al-Khoury’s bidding?”

  “Yes, sir, that is exactly what I believe. Al-Khoury has sent both James Moorehead’s son and his now deceased daughter to do his bidding.”

  “And what might that bidding be, Ms. Moorehead?”

  “Why, to kill me, of course. Al-Khoury already had my parents killed.”

  “Really! How did he accomplish that?”

  At this Elspeth frowned and posited, “They were killed in the Lockerbie bombing in 1988.”

  And now the director in turned frowned, suggesting, “But I thought they caught the man who did that. Wasn’t he from Libya?”

  Nodding her agreement, Elspeth responded, “Yes, but he was a scapegoat. I have sufficient evidence to prove that Al-Khoury was behind it all, sir.”

  At this revelation, the director scratched his chin for a moment and subsequently inquired, “So where does all this leave us, Ms. Moorehead?”

  “Good question. My best guess is that Farhan Rahman is at this very moment scaling the Eiffel Tower for the purpose of killing me.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t follow, Ms. Moorehead. Please explain.”

  “Sir, Farhan is clearly under the complete control of Al-Khoury. As Farhan is now trapped within the confines of Paris proper, he has chosen to go public in an attempt to draw me within his reach, and what better location than the Eiffel Tower? After all, if he can lure me onto the tower, he has the opportunity to, let’s say, kill two birds with one stone.”

  At this the director stared incredulously at her for a moment, then blurted, “Point well taken…”

  Elspeth now added, “I suspect that he is most likely planning to hold everyone on the top level hostage as a means of demanding me in exchange for some or all of them.”

  “Preposterous!” the director exclaimed, “Surely you can’t be serious!”

  “I’m afraid she is,” Connor put in woefully.

  At that moment the phone rang, and the director answered it, saying, “Yes, go ahead.” He listened silently for a moment, then added, “Alright. I shall arrive momentarily. Don’t do anything further until I arrive.” He then turned to the pair of them and announced, “Snipers in the military helicopters have managed to shoot two of the terrorists on the second level, but they in turn managed to shoot down one of our choppers. At this moment one of the terrorists is on his way up the stairs to the top level.”

  “I am certain it is Farhan,” Elspeth proffered, “He won’t go all the way to the top.”

  Stupefied at this assertion, the director inquired, “What? Why?”

  Elspeth gazed in the general direction of the tower and observed, “My guess is he has sufficient explosives on him to blow off the top portion of the tower. Were he to go all the way to the top, he might either get shot by the security personnel on the top level or, even if he does explode the bomb on the top level, it might not be sufficient to take down that portion of the tower, there being considerably more structural integrity at that level. Besides, he can negotiate better from a position of safety midway between the top two levels.”

  “Ah, I see…” the director said, but then he added, “Alright, we have arrived at the command post. Let’s get out and see where things stand.”

  With that the three of them jumped from the vehicle, whereupon they were immediately ushered into the command post, a trailer to one side of the south tower leg.

  Once inside they received a short briefing in French, after which the room became silent. The director then turned to Connor and Elspeth and inquired, “It seems you are correct - Mr. Rahman is on his way up the stairs to the top level.”

  “Mais oui, monsieur, on comprend,” Elspeth volunteered.

  “Ah, you speak French then,” he observed, “Given that the pair of you know him, what actions might you suggest?”

  At this, Elspeth immediately exclaimed, “Sir, we have one and only one chance to save both the Eiffel Tower and all of the people trapped up there.”

  “And what might that be, Ms. Moorehead?”

  “Sir, we must somehow get Farhan off the tower. Accordingly, I propose that you put Connor and me aboard that helicopter, together with a sharpshooter, and we just may be able to save the day.”

  “How so, Ms. Moorehead? Were you to shoot him, he would likely blow up the bomb the moment he was shot.”

  “Of course, you are entirely correct, sir,” she responded matter-of-factly, “However, as I explained to you, Farhan is in reality after me. Therefore, if we can get to him and he realizes that I am aboard the chopper, we may be able to coax him into voluntarily removing himself from the tower.”

  At this pronouncement the director pursed his lips and responded, “But I don’t understand, Ms. Moorehead. If by some means you actually are able to coax him onto the helicopter, he will most assuredly immediately explode the bomb, in the process killing everyone aboard the helicopter and possibly even taking out some or all of the tower simultaneously!”

  Eyeing him for a moment, Elspeth then responded knowingly, “Of course, that has in fact been his plan all along, sir.”

  “I still don’t understand,” the director exclaimed, “Are you telling me that you are willing to die to save the Eiffel Tower?”

  “Yes, sir, that is exactly what I’m telling you. But more importantly, all the people trapped up there would be saved as well. Surely that would be more than a fair trade.”

  He gazed at her in horror for a moment but, his scrutiny suddenly changing to one of admiration, he turned to Connor and inquired, “And I suppose that you, sir, are just as fou as she is?”

  “Yes, sir, as a matter of fact I am,” Connor responded despondently.

  The director stared in utter disbelief at the pair a moment longer, but then he abruptly exclaimed, “Done! Sergeant, escort these two to the helicopter immediately, and get your very best sharpshooter aboard with them! Now, off with the pair of you, and best of luck - you’re going to need it!”

  With that the pair rushed from the command post and followed the sergeant, at which point Elspeth instructed, “Not so fast, sergeant! I’m going to need some special gear.”

  “And what might that be?” the sergeant inquired.

  “I shall tell you on the way. We have very little time, so we must hurry,” and with that the three of them raced for the helicopter, Elspeth giving him orders as they raced full speed onward.

  Moments later the helicopter lifted off from its spot on the Champ de Mars, and as it did so, Elspeth gave instructions to the sharpshooter as to what she had in mind to do. Meanwhile, the helicopter rose to the height where they anticipated their quarry to be and began slowly circling the tower. Focusing a spotlight on the tower, they spotted him after a few moments, three fourths of the way up, hurriedly mounting the stairs.

  Elspeth instructed the pilot to hover a hundred feet from the tower, then g
rabbed the megaphone and pressed it to her mouth, shouting, “Farhan, it’s Elspeth. After all these years, we finally meet again.”

  At this the terrorist halted, turned and waved incongruously toward the chopper.

  Elspeth continued, “Farhan, we know you are here for me. The why and wherefore matters not, but given that I am your target, why not give up this silly charade and join us aboard the helicopter? After all, you really don’t expect me to believe that you intend to take down the Eiffel Tower!”

  At this Farhan shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, “Seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m willing to negotiate.”

  Seeing his apparent willingness to listen, she suggested, “Suppose we shoot a cable over to you, you then tie it off to yourself and then we can simply airlift you away from the tower? After all, at that point you shall have direct access to me.”

  Farhan seemed to consider for a moment, but then he shook his head in refusal.

  “I knew he wouldn’t go for that,” she exclaimed to Connor, “He knows that if we were to snag him, all we’d have to do is cut loose the cable and he’d be done. Still, it was worth a try.”

  At this Connor droned above the roar of the chopper, “What now, Elspeth?”

  She thought for a moment and then shouted, “So - on to plan number two,” and so saying, she hoisted the megaphone to her lips and exclaimed, “Surely you don’t think that I will come to you, Farhan. Then you will have both the hostages and me, and that being the case, you will hold all of the chips!”

  At this she could make out his grin even from the distance of a hundred feet. He had always been a smug bastard, she thought to herself, and then she exclaimed to no one in particular, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to go to him.”

  At this Connor screamed at the top of his lungs, “You can’t be serious! You’ll get yourself killed! And after that he’ll blow up the tower as well!”

  She turned toward him and inquired, “Do you have a better idea? Because, if you do, I’d sure like to hear it!”

  “Why don’t I go to him?” he suggested.

  “Don’t be ridiculous! He’d kill you before you even made it to the tower!”

  “Well then,” he responded, “Why don’t we allow him to go to the top, and then we could negotiate,” Connor suggested.

  “Not a chance! Then he’d be in a position to kill everyone in the tower, not to mention destroying the tower itself.”

  “He’s probably already in a position to do both,” he observed.

  “Yes, that may be, Connor, but he doesn’t have me yet, does he?”

  “Alright, Elspeth, I see your point, but I still don’t understand what you can accomplish by going to him. After all, he’s likely to blow the bomb up the second you are within range.”

  “He won’t do that,” Elspeth responded self-assuredly.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The absolute certainty that he wants to see me squirm!”

  “What! You’re kidding, Elspeth! Surely you don’t expect me to go along with this on such a flimsy assumption.”

  “It’s not flimsy, Connor. It’s a certainty - I’m absolutely sure of it!”

  “What makes you so certain?”

  “The night of the strip poker game, that’s what!”

  “Oh, that! That was a long time ago, Elspeth. I doubt he’s the same person now.”

  “Yeah, I know, but there was one other time. I won’t go into details with you, but Farhan attempted to seduce me. Initially I played along just to see what he would try, but when he got too close, I pulled a pistol on him and told him to get out. He was really pissed, and that night he told me that it wasn’t over by a long shot. So you see, Connor, it’s not over yet, and if you’d seen the look of disappointment on his face that night you’d know I’m right. He looked at me as if the world had come to an end. He’d had me in his sights, and he failed. He’s been waiting ever since for another chance, and this is the last one he’ll ever have. Not only can he go out in a blaze of glory, he will have made me succumb to his will.”

  At this Connor scratched his chin for moment and then inquired, “Alright, supposing you are correct, what good would it do for you to go to him?”

  “I’ve got the better of him, Connor. I know what he doesn’t know that I know, and that is just how badly he wants to see me squirm before he dies. And while he’s making me squirm, I’m going to kick that son-of-a-bitch’s ass!”

  Connor could do nothing but stare at her in disbelief, but then he suddenly said, “Well, this whole scheme sounds preposterous, but I suppose you’re right – we have no other options.”

  At this Elspeth added, “And besides, if he does kill me, he may just give up at that point. After all, he will have accomplished his mission, and he may even think that he could be extradited if he doesn’t blow up the bomb. So we have two chances at saving both the tourists and the tower.”

  “Alright, I give up, Elspeth. Go! Go on!” and at this he waved a dismissive hand at her. But then, thinking better of it, he shouted, “I’m going to kill that bastard if he lays a hand on you!”

  “Whatever,” she replied nonchalantly, and then she turned on the megaphone and blasted to Farhan, “Alright, Farhan, I’m coming to you. First we’re going to shoot a cable to you. Please connect it to the tower, and then I’ll rappel over. Okay?”

  Seeing his nod of approval, Elspeth instructed the sharpshooter to shoot the cable across to the tower. This was accomplished in short order, and Elspeth subsequently prepared to rappel to the tower, but before she did so she whispered something to the helicopter pilot. For his part, he nodded in agreement, and then she set off.

  Connor observed as she rappelled across, but on her arrival he was horrified as Farhan immediately grabbed her and, taking her in a lusty embrace, he tugged her to himself and bestowed her with a deep and penetrating kiss.

  Elspeth seemingly responded, thereby allowing the kiss to linger. His face reddening in disgust, Connor was frozen in fear as the two put on quite the show. But then Elspeth suddenly held up her hand behind Farhan’s back and signaled thumbs up, at which the helicopter pilot jerked the throttle back and tugged mightily on the cable.

  Unbeknownst to Farhan, Elspeth had connected the cable to his backpack, thereby causing him to be torn bodily from the tower, she for her part managing to extricate herself from his grasp just at the right instant.

  Elspeth immediately pulled a pistol and fired at Farhan, but she missed. He simultaneously managed to get off a pistol shot at Elspeth, but he was tugged so sharply that he subsequently dropped the pistol, and he was unable to immediately grab the detonator for the bomb. Elspeth went down, and a moment later an enormous explosion ripped through the Paris sky beneath the hovering chopper.

  Now the chopper began to lurch violently, the pilot screaming to Connor above the roar, “The shrapnel from the explosion caught one of the rotor blades. I can’t hold her! Hang on – we’re going down!”

  The helicopter began a slow circling descent, the pilot doing everything in his power to maintain control of the wavering aircraft. Seconds later he yelled, “I’m going to try to work the chopper over the Seine. When we’re down to less than a hundred feet above the river, jump!”

  “What!” Connor blurted in shock, but the sharpshooter was already positioning himself at the chopper door. Seconds later he tugged Connor out the door with him. The pair plummeted downward, and moments later they struck the water. Connor came up first, gagging and coughing, and the sharpshooter popped above the surface a second later. By then the chopper had exploded in a fireball as it struck the Pont des Invalides.

  Spluttering water, Connor gagged and searched skyward. Seeing that the tower was intact, he could think only of Elspeth.

  Far above, though apparently wounded, Elspeth took up Farhan’s semi-automatic weapon and immediately shot two of the other terrorists. The remaining two were taken out by the
other circling chopper. The attack was abruptly at an end.

  Part III

  Merging Destinies

 

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