Private Paris (Private 10)

“I want a coup d’état.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?”

“Why would I?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Hoskins cried. “You lied about knowing Henri Richard. And here we have pictures of him buried in your mutilation, pictures sure to come out in court and make your humiliation complete.”

Haja’s hatred shimmered through her swollen features before she closed her puffy eyes and said, “Burn in

hell, bitch. I’m not saying another word until I have a lawyer present.”

Chapter 101

Montfermeil, eastern suburbs of Paris

7:20 p.m.

MAJOR SAUVAGE LEFT General Georges’s evening briefing at a crisp pace, with Captain Mfune hard at his shoulder.

“What are we going to do?” Mfune muttered.

“Not here,” Sauvage said sharply.

The major found Corporal Perry, a young, scrawny kid assigned to drive him, and told Perry to catch another ride back to their position. Then he ordered Mfune to take the wheel of the Renault Sherpa.

Tan, squat, and plated with armor, the Sherpa looked like the head of some prehistoric reptile. It was imposing, and people tended to get out of its way the second they saw it. The big machine gun up top helped. It was an AA-52, the machine gun that French soldiers referred to as La Nana, or the maid, because it cleaned up. Sauvage had seen a combo of the Sherpa and La Nana work all the time in Afghanistan. The Taliban ran like hell when they saw them coming.

Mfune pulled the armored vehicle out into traffic and said, “Major?”

“You heard the briefing,” Sauvage said testily. “Haja’s staying on story. She’s sacrificing everything.”

“With all due respect, sir, Amé sacrificed everything,” Mfune said. “Haja is still alive. Haja could change her mind.”

“She could if she was normal, but she’s not, so she won’t,” the major reasoned. “And because of that, the powers that be will have to take her at her word, and act accordingly. In fact, if you think about it, she’s in a unique position to convince them that the AB-16 threat is real and growing.”

“Another layer of disinformation,” Mfune said.

“Exactly,” Sauvage said.

“So we do nothing for the time being?” Mfune asked. “Let the uprising build on its own?”

Sauvage thought about that. It was a good question.

He considered his options for several moments, and then said, “No, I think it’s time we show France what a little fighting back would look like. Get more of the home team behind us.”

The captain said, “Without provocation, sir? Is that advisable?”

“Of course not,” Sauvage said. “We’ll create provocation, and then la pagaille, in the chaos of battle, we’ll retaliate. Hard.”

Chapter 102

14th Arrondissement

8:15 p.m.

LEAVING LA SANTÉ, I was aware of the prison’s cold hard walls and the fates of the people inside. Haja Hamid deserved to be in there.

But Imam Al-Moustapha? And Ali Farad?