Kill Shot by Vince Flynn Page A

Tarek’s head that is going to match the slugs that killed your men. She’s going to pull a bevy of slugs from the walls that will match the type of ammunition that killed the other two guests and the worker in the alley, and then she’s going to find the surveillance equipment we installed and she’s going to start sniffing around in places where I don’t want her sniffing around.”
    “Who cares?” Samir said dismissively. “We will kill her.”
    Fournier was done pleading his case to this idiot. He turned to face Max and said, “If he even suggests this again, I will have him killed.”
    “I understand.” Turning to Samir, Max said, “Do not open your mouth again, or I will kill you myself.”
    “Last night was a bloody mess,” Fournier said. “Libya is raising holy hell, OPEC is furious, and everyone in the French government is enraged that another government might be behind such a bloodbath. A lot of people are suddenly very interested in finding out the identity of this assassin, and who is behind him.”
    “So, they will do our work for us.”
    “That is my hope. This man has proven extremely elusive, but up to this moment, very few people even knew he existed.”
    “Now everyone will be looking for him.”
    “Exactly.”
    “What about this investigator? Are you afraid she will stumble onto what we were up to?”
    Fournier had spent much of the day worrying about this, but he wasn’t about to tell these fools after they’d suggested she be killed. “I will make sure her focus is on foreign intelligence agencies. For now we need the press to continue to report that it was a single assassin.”
    “Why?” Aziz asked.
    Max finally saw where Fournier was headed. “The assassin has become a liability.”
    “Correct . . . Up until now the man has been a ghost. Killing only his targets and a few bodyguards. Last night was a mess. Whoever is behind him is not going to be happy that this one was so sloppy.”
    “You think they will dispose of him?” Max asked.
    “We’ll see.” Fournier thought of what he would do under the same circumstances. If one of his men had created such disarray, he would most certainly have that option on the table. He needed more information. Two avenues had crowded Fournier’s thoughts. “For now, we need to sit back and see who pops up.”
    “Pops up?” Max asked, not understanding.
    “Events like this have a way of attracting intelligence assets. The Brits have already called, Libya no doubt has a few men on their way over, and Israel and the Americans have already offered help. It will be interesting to see who shows up over the next few days. We have stepped up surveillance at the airports and the embassies. We will see who comes sniffing around, and with a little luck, they might point us in the right direction.”
    Max considered this for a moment and then nodded. “That makes sense.”
    As far as Fournier was concerned, it was their only option. He could not afford to draw any more attention to himself. Fournier had been pulled into this because of his relationship with Max. They had offered him a six-figure retainer and hinted in a not-so-subtle way that his help would go a long way toward ensuring their arrangement that Hezbollah and her sister organizations would stay out of France. Seven weeks ago it had seemed a very straightforward deal. Now it was an absolute mess. Fournier should have asked more questions.
    “If you want to catch this man,” Fournier said, “it would help to know how Tarek fits in with the other men who were killed by this assassin. Are they linked in some way? Did Tarek do anything while he was working for the Mukhabarat that would cause a country to hunt him down?”
    He most certainly had, but Max would have to carefully consider if he would share this information. “I will ask.”
    Fournier could tell he was holding back. “Max, our relationship has been one of mutual trust. You are going to have to open up if you want my