four construction workers emerged from behind the
colonne
’s fence, crossed the street, and laid the ends of two scaffold platforms down on the small steel pillars that stuck out from the sidewalk in front of Boucheron.
“I’ll be sure to mention the change in curriculum when I testify in my defense,” Kate said. “Maybe I can get the charges against me reduced.”
“Keep that positive attitude,” Nick said. He floored the gas pedal and pressed the horn to warn anyone in the store about what was coming.
The four construction workers scrambled out of the way an instant before the Audi hit the improvised ramp.
Kate’s heart stuttered as the car went airborne and headed straight for the elegant limestone façade of the jewelry store, with its large windows and ornamental columns. The building looked monumental and foreboding, daring them to do what the centuries, revolutions, and wars seemingly could not—break down the walls.
Even though she knew the front end of the car had been structurally reinforced for the collision, all of her instincts told her that driving into anything at high speed was suicide. It didn’t help that she also knew that the Audi’s air bags were disabled. She placed her gloved hands flat on the dashboard and braced for impact.
The Audi blasted through the window in an explosion of glass, plaster, and limestone, smashed through a display case in a spray of diamonds and splintered wood, and came to a stop in the center of the store.
Kate opened her eyes, relieved that she was conscious and in one piece. The windshield was shattered. She could hear alarms ringing. She drew her gun, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car. Dust was settling like snow. Four store employees were backed up against the far wall in terror. The guard, dressed in a suit like a secret service agent, was rising from the floor near the door and reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster in the same motion.
“Don’t do it,” Kate said, aiming her gun at his forehead. “Drop the gun and kick it under the car.” He did as he was told and she gestured to him to join the others against the wall.
Nick smashed display cases with a pickax, scooped up the diamonds, and dumped them into an open backpack that he wore on his chest instead of his back. Kate kept the five employees covered and glanced at the watch on her wrist.
By her estimate, unless something incredible was done, they had less than thirty seconds before the police officers from the Ministry of Justice took them down.
—
A few moments before the two Audis crashed into the two jewelry stores, two large dump trucks full of rubble that had been parked beside the
colonne
simultaneously pulled out into the rue de la Paix and turned across it, blocking the street and sealing off the plaza from traffic. The drivers leaped out of their trucks and ran away as their vehicles emptied their loads into the street.
At that same instant, a dozen police officers poured out from the Ministry of Justice and ran across the plaza toward the jewelry stores on the two ends of rue de la Paix. That was when a series of carefully timed small explosions started going off like a sequence of fireworks. The blasts released the massive scaffolding around the
colonne,
which unpeeled itself like a giant banana. The poles and scrim tumbled to the plaza and forced the police officers to scramble back to avoid being crushed.
It was in the midst of that smoke, chaos, and destruction that Nick and Kate ran out of the jewelry store, jumped onto two motorcycles parked on rue de la Paix, and sped northwest toward place de l’Opéra, one of the busiest and most crowded intersections in Paris. Seven streets branched off the plaza outside of the grand gilded Paris opera house, creating an enormous churn of man and machine.
They snaked through the traffic, making a hard right onto rue du Quatre-Septembre, then a sharp left onto a narrow one-way street. They came to a sudden stop at
colonne
’s fence, crossed the street, and laid the ends of two scaffold platforms down on the small steel pillars that stuck out from the sidewalk in front of Boucheron.
“I’ll be sure to mention the change in curriculum when I testify in my defense,” Kate said. “Maybe I can get the charges against me reduced.”
“Keep that positive attitude,” Nick said. He floored the gas pedal and pressed the horn to warn anyone in the store about what was coming.
The four construction workers scrambled out of the way an instant before the Audi hit the improvised ramp.
Kate’s heart stuttered as the car went airborne and headed straight for the elegant limestone façade of the jewelry store, with its large windows and ornamental columns. The building looked monumental and foreboding, daring them to do what the centuries, revolutions, and wars seemingly could not—break down the walls.
Even though she knew the front end of the car had been structurally reinforced for the collision, all of her instincts told her that driving into anything at high speed was suicide. It didn’t help that she also knew that the Audi’s air bags were disabled. She placed her gloved hands flat on the dashboard and braced for impact.
The Audi blasted through the window in an explosion of glass, plaster, and limestone, smashed through a display case in a spray of diamonds and splintered wood, and came to a stop in the center of the store.
Kate opened her eyes, relieved that she was conscious and in one piece. The windshield was shattered. She could hear alarms ringing. She drew her gun, unbuckled her seatbelt, and got out of the car. Dust was settling like snow. Four store employees were backed up against the far wall in terror. The guard, dressed in a suit like a secret service agent, was rising from the floor near the door and reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster in the same motion.
“Don’t do it,” Kate said, aiming her gun at his forehead. “Drop the gun and kick it under the car.” He did as he was told and she gestured to him to join the others against the wall.
Nick smashed display cases with a pickax, scooped up the diamonds, and dumped them into an open backpack that he wore on his chest instead of his back. Kate kept the five employees covered and glanced at the watch on her wrist.
By her estimate, unless something incredible was done, they had less than thirty seconds before the police officers from the Ministry of Justice took them down.
—
A few moments before the two Audis crashed into the two jewelry stores, two large dump trucks full of rubble that had been parked beside the
colonne
simultaneously pulled out into the rue de la Paix and turned across it, blocking the street and sealing off the plaza from traffic. The drivers leaped out of their trucks and ran away as their vehicles emptied their loads into the street.
At that same instant, a dozen police officers poured out from the Ministry of Justice and ran across the plaza toward the jewelry stores on the two ends of rue de la Paix. That was when a series of carefully timed small explosions started going off like a sequence of fireworks. The blasts released the massive scaffolding around the
colonne,
which unpeeled itself like a giant banana. The poles and scrim tumbled to the plaza and forced the police officers to scramble back to avoid being crushed.
It was in the midst of that smoke, chaos, and destruction that Nick and Kate ran out of the jewelry store, jumped onto two motorcycles parked on rue de la Paix, and sped northwest toward place de l’Opéra, one of the busiest and most crowded intersections in Paris. Seven streets branched off the plaza outside of the grand gilded Paris opera house, creating an enormous churn of man and machine.
They snaked through the traffic, making a hard right onto rue du Quatre-Septembre, then a sharp left onto a narrow one-way street. They came to a sudden stop at
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