The Treasures of Saint Germain

CHAPTER TEN

Ever since the stalking began, Hayden had known she would come face to face and on equal terms with her shadow. Seeing him now, exhausted, panting and bloody, his face slack, made her wonder how on earth he’d ever gotten so far under her skin. But that didn’t matter now.

What mattered was what happened next.

Webb stared, a mini-shockwave trembling though his features. “Hayden Jaye.”

“You have two choices. Come with me now or go straight to Hell.” She shrugged, holding her weapon angled at his feet. “Either way, I’m good with it.”

“I’m unarmed,” he said. “And I must say… it’s good to see you again.”

“Straight down then.”

She lined his skull up between her sights.

Kinimaka let out a yell from behind, far away. His words didn’t matter. Webb looked aghast, an expression that warmed her heart. Even Kenzie gaped though, and that single expression was what gave Hayden cause to hold back.

“Witnesses,” the Israeli was saying. “What are you thinking?”

I don’t care, was on Hayden’s lips. Her hand trembled, her finger quivering. One shot, one blast and it would all be over. No more chances for this destroyer of lives, no long reprieve. Just freedom, for everyone he had ever touched.

Webb flinched as her finger spasmed. The bullet flashed past his skull amidst a terrible, impenetrable silence.

“Well look at that,” he quaked. “I dodged it.”

Hayden jumped in, but a heavy hand on her shoulder jerked her backwards. She knew that hand, and then the voice that accompanied it:

“You’re out of control. Stand down. I’ll handle it.”

Kinimaka stepped past her and approached Webb. Hayden, beyond surprised, made no move but to wonder if the Hawaiian was right. It had to be said that if she hadn’t wasted those moments contemplating killing him she’d already have the man in cuffs.

Out of control? I don’t think so.

She pushed up alongside Kinimaka, making no comment. Webb watched them both, a slight smirk on his face.

“I remember the last time we met as a threesome,” the Pythian leader said. “You both looked a little different then.”

Just a few meters separated them. The Champs Élysées still surged with a vital, fluid life all around them; those running from gunshots, those curious and those who hadn’t heard anything. Onlookers inched forward, excitement in their faces. Sirens screamed somewhere distant, coming closer. The night was alive. Journalists and cameraman were trying to climb trees for a better vantage point. Police cars tried to slice through the already heavy traffic.

Hayden attempted to relax. No way could Webb outrun them now. To the right Drake and the others traded gunfire with the remaining mercs, only about four of them now. Interpol and French police tried to flank the mercs. A Frenchman was down and an Interpol cop lay bleeding, medics giving aid. She ignored the man-mountain at her side and gestured fiercely at Webb.

“On your knees.”

“As much as I do like the concept and potential outcome of that idea, Miss Jaye, do you really think I don’t have a few last-chance scenarios planned?” Webb asked them, entirely too confident for Hayden’s liking.

Then thunder swept the streets.

The helicopters were already approaching.