Dark Zone

77

The security person at the entrance glanced at Karr but said nothing, barely watching as he walked through the small hallway to the metal steps. Three hundred and sixty steps encased in a well-painted but utilitarian steel enclosure led to the first level of the tower. Climbing them felt more like ascending the steps in an industrial building than a world monument.

The first thing that greeted him when he came out on the first level was a large souvenir shop; it was empty and even seemed a little forgotten, tucked into a corner of the plaza away from most of the tourists. He walked around the platform, trying not to remember his visit the other day with Deidre. It was difficult; he’d had a lot of fun and wished she were here now.

Assuming, of course, no one tried to blow the tower up.

Karr paused to look at the Invalides, the large military building nearby originally built as a veterans’ hospital and nursing home and now Napoleon’s final resting place. Tourists filtered across the plaza behind him, checking out the sights and occasionally reading the placards. Any one of them could be carrying a weapon — Karr hadn’t been frisked or put through a metal detector — but the threat that Deep Black had detected was on a much larger scale. One or two gunmen might kill a dozen or even two dozen people, but they didn’t strike terror on the grand scale. An event had to be massive to live in people’s memories.

Why? Anything that happened here would be terrible, wouldn’t it?

A French military helicopter, an Aerospatiale SA 342 Gazelle, passed about three-quarters of a mile away. The small attack helicopter was equipped with antitank weapons, more than enough to stop a bus or truck loaded with explosives. A second helicopter hovered in the distance. Local air traffic had been brought to a virtual halt for the U.S. President’s visit; even outgoing flights at de Gaulle had been canceled for a while.

Karr continued around the plaza, heading back for the steps. He was probably the most suspicious-looking person here.

The second level was another 359 steps away. The girders got thinner and the space between them seemed more open; Karr had more of a sense that he was climbing well above the city.

As he neared the second étage, the Deep Black op noticed a figure dressed in coveralls dangling over the side. For a second he thought the man was going to jump; then Karr realized he was a painter. It wasn’t until he was nearly level with the man that he saw the figure wasn’t real at all but a mannequin, part of a display about how important it was to paint the tower. According to the sign, the process continued every year. The job was done by hand, with old-fashioned paintbrushes rather than spray cans or fancier devices. A picture showed some of the men testing safety ropes.

Sure enough, there were several men nearby dressed in coveralls climbing upward in the grid work toward the third level, using one of the utility ladders to ascend into the web-like structure that held up the third level and its antenna mast.

So where were their paint cans and safety ropes?