Free Dance With the Enemy by Rob Sinclair Page A

extremist. Plus nearly all of the witnesses who said anything even remotely useful said the attackers were speaking English both to each other and to Modena.’
    ‘Logan, everyone speaks English. I don’t disagree with you but we can’t rule out the link just like that. And it fits with the police’s theory.’
    ‘What does that mean?’ Logan said, his tone more terse now. ‘The French police think the kidnapping is something to do with terrorists, so we just follow their lead regardless?’
    ‘I’m not following this line just because it fits with what the police think,’ Mackie snapped. Logan’s defensiveness had obviously got his back up. ‘It’s what I think too. And everyone else, for that matter. We need to take the leads that we have.’
    ‘This is all weak as piss,’ Logan responded. ‘If terrorists wanted to make a big mark, do you not think they would just blow something up? Why go to all the effort of such an elaborate attack? Thebiggest question of all is still why was Modena targeted? If we think about what he could have that somebody out there could want, then that’s going to lead us in the right direction.’
    ‘So what have you got, Logan?’ Mackie said, irritation clear in his voice. ‘You tell me. What does Modena have that got him kidnapped?’
    Logan stared daggers at his boss. He didn’t like being challenged. But he knew it was a good question. And he didn’t have an answer. ‘Information, perhaps.’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Look, I don’t know,’ Logan conceded.
    ‘Well,’ Mackie said, ‘until you do know, I suggest you go with what we’ve got. The lead with this counterfeiter is worth checking out. I think you’ll see why when I tell you what we know.’
    ‘I’m all ears.’
    Mackie sighed. ‘There’s no easy way to tell you this, Logan. But I think you’ll agree it gives a bit of weight to the link to Islamic extremists.’
    Mackie paused.
    ‘Go on,’ Logan said.
    ‘Two days ago Youssef Selim arrived in France. We think he might be behind this.’
    Logan almost dropped his whisky.

Chapter 11
    Johnny pushed the sleeve of his leather jacket up over his wrist to check the time on his watch. It was almost nine p.m. He’d been standing outside the Hotel Brittanique now for over two hours and there was still no sign of the mark. Having followed the man from the hospital back here, he was uncomfortable to have him out of sight for so long. There was always the risk that he’d gone out of a back door or something. But then why would he have done that? Johnny was pretty sure the mark hadn’t figured out he was being followed.
    Johnny had seen the look on the mark’s face when they’d passed in the hospital corridor. What with the way the guy had charged down the corridor after coming out of Jean Vincent’s room, he had to be some sort of police. Just as well Johnny had stayed put and hidden or the mark would probably have caught up with him. Luckily the metro and streets were still busy with tourists and commuters, so it hadn’t been hard to follow him back to the hotel. Johnny hadn’t been sure whether or not to head into the place after him, but he didn’t want to be too obvious. The mark had obviously seen him in the hospital.
    Johnny’s initial orders had been simple: kill Vincent. The guy had got greedy. Johnny could understand that, to some extent. Vincent wasn’t being paid much; it wasn’t like he had a big part to play. But the accident had been far worse than intended. The doctors had said Vincent may have never walked again. He was understandably pissed off and had threatened to go to the police if he didn’t receive double. Another ten thousand euros. It wasbarely a drop in the ocean next to what Johnny knew Reggie would be taking. But Vincent chose the wrong people to blackmail. And he certainly wouldn’t be walking again now. Johnny had carried out his orders no problem, exactly as Selim had suggested, though he had been unable to stop himself