Toys - James Patterson [56]
“We have just received distressing news that your former boss, Jax Moore, is in Europe right now,” she translated. “This is very dangerous for us. That man is the devil himself! He is a war criminal. A beast among beasts.”
“I must agree with that.” I spoke to Chantal, but also to the crowd. “I know that devil very well. He’s extremely efficient. If he’s here, the final plan is already in motion.”
“We shall see,” said Chantal, who, surprisingly, didn’t seem as alarmed as I was.
Other guests approached me, introducing themselves and thanking me for being here. More than one told me that they’d known my parents and loved them both dearly, and offered sympathy for their senseless deaths.
Chantal was at my side again. “You must eat, Hays. Please. Something tells me we will need much strength soon. We all will.”
I shook my head. “I wish I knew more about the Elite plan. I want to help you in any way I can.”
She patted my arm. “We have ways to make you talk.” She laughed. “What I mean is, there may be things you know that you aren’t conscious of. We have tests. But first—eat!”
She snapped her fingers to summon a passing waiter and took a canapé of crusted bread spread with thick paste. “Pâté de foie gras, with truffles. Heaven on this earth. You must have one, Hays.”
The smell of the food had been filling my nostrils since we first came in; a blend of savory aromas had my stomach on alert.
But there was a small problem. I was used to eating like an Elite, and even thinking about food like this went against my upbringing and training.
“Do you have anything… without calories?” I said.
The people standing nearby stared as if I were a crazy person. Chantal merely laughed.
“In France, you dare to suggest such a thing as fine cuisine without calories? That is an Elitist nightmare we can hardly imagine! Just try this. Open your mouth! I command it!”
She held the pâté to my lips, and I reminded myself that I was, after all, in France. So I opened my mouth—and she popped in the canapé.
What a glory! It practically melted on my tongue with a rich, subtle complexity that positively thrilled my taste buds. I turned to the waiter, ready to devour his entire tray. “Yes, please, I’ll have another.”
Then my hearing caught a faint sound that no one else in the room could catch—a jet, heading toward us at what seemed a low altitude.
Lucy! The idea delighted me more than I would have thought possible.
Chapter 75
BUT THEN MY ears told me that there wasn’t just one jet—there were several of them! Had the war begun already? Here in the French countryside?
I ran to a window just in time to see a wing formation come streaking in, dropping string after string of Elite paratroopers—so many that they completely blotted out the moonlit sky. This was not good; I knew what tough and skillful fighters these were…
Hell, I had been one.
An explosion rocked the château with a tremor that I felt shoot up through my feet and jar my teeth. More bombs came right behind it, shattering windows, raining glass on the guests. Then bursts of gunfire erupted as the French guards met the Elite attack outside on the grounds.
I hurried back to Chantal, who was issuing orders into a handheld phone.
Before I got to her though, the two sets of doors to the dining room flew open.
Elite commandos came charging in, firing assault weapons into the cluster of human leaders. It was a massacre of immense proportions.
Horrifying. Unthinkable. Cruel and unnecessary. None of these people were even armed.
Behind the waves of commandos walked a man and a woman, side by side, smiling as if they had just been announced at a fancy ball.
Jax Moore and Lizbeth!
“Great job, Hays,” Moore called to me. “You led us right to the château—and handed us the kingpin. Or should I say, the queenpin?”
Chantal straightened her back and strode toward me. With a look of hatred like I’d never seen before, she slapped my face, raking her nails across my cheek. “Traitor! Pig!