Free Deliver Us From Evil by David Baldacci

happen he paid big bucks. The place
     is in private hands. They can do what they want. When we saw the payment going to them we hacked their computer system and
     found the schedule. So we know the exact date he’ll be there.”
    Shaw swiveled in his chair to face another computer whose hard drive was clean except for factory-loaded software, including
     a browser. They used it to connect to the Internet. He hit some keys and read over the results. “Okay, I’ve actually heard
     of this place. It’s a photo-exhibition gallery; light show on the rock walls, a narrated tour, recorded documentary, yada
     yada. They choose a different artist each year.” He sat, mulling this new information over. “I think we have our extraction
     location.”
    He spun the laptop around and let Frank look at the screen. It was information about the exhibition venue. “The caves have
     one entrance, lots of rooms, and few attendants, so it’s easy to get lost or disoriented. We cut the power source and the
     extraction team is already in place with optics and one-shot-and-drop tranquilizer guns. We separate the boss from the muscle
     and off we go.”
    Frank thought about this. “Limits collateral damage too. We’ll need eyes on the ground ahead of time to confirm all the details.”
    “No argument there. But what better place to take a rat than in a hole?”
    “But if the hit misses at the caves the guy’s going to be on his private wings out of France.”
    Shaw sat back. “It’s not perfect, but it’s the best we can do under the circumstances. His trip to the caves is the only time
     we’ll know for sure where he’ll be going. And I really don’t see how we can miss.”

CHAPTER

    14
    T HE EXTRACTION PLAN was in place. The caves had been gone over thoroughly by assets on the ground in Provence. Shaw would also visit the caves
     when he got there. In the meantime he had studied detailed plans of the caves’ exterior and interior until he could draw them
     out on paper from memory. Waller was scheduled to travel there less than a week after his arrival; his private tour began
     at 10 a.m. sharp.
    After each long day of work, which included handpicking the members of the hit team and prepping them, Shaw would go to his
     hotel, change, do his run, and then wander the streets of Paris alone until the darkness thickened and his energy waned. One
     night he was eating alone at a café across from the Jardin du Luxembourg, a place Anna Schmidt had loved. They’d walk through
     the gardens, hand-in-hand, watch the children sail their wooden boats in the large central fountain, and then sit and observe
     people drift by. He couldn’t go back there now because for him it was hallowed ground that could not be trod on again. But
     he had ventured close enough to see some of the flowers from a distance. That was the best he could do before his chest started
     to tighten and his eyes moistened.
    He’d just ordered his food when he looked around the restaurant, checking each table. A decades-long habit, it was as natural
     to him as drawing breath. He drew a quick one when he saw her standing there in the doorway that separated one dining area
     from another.
    Katie James didn’t look as thin as the last time he’d seen her, which was good because she’d needed to put on some weight.
     Her naturally blonde hair, spiky and dark the last time they’d been together, had grown out and now nearly touched her shoulders.
     She had on a white skirt, two-inch heels, no hose, and a dark blue long-sleeved blouse. He’d never known her to wear a sleeveless
     shirt, primarily because of the bullet wound on her upper left arm.
    As she walked toward him he could see that her makeup did not quite cover the darkened circles under her eyes. She was a beautiful
     woman; many men in the room turned their heads to stare, incurring the wrath of the ladies with whom they were dining. Yet
     apparently a glimpse of Katie James walking across the room was