Page 197 of The Grey Wolf
“You can do it?”
“Yes, at least, I think so. It means instigating a spill. But I can’t do it from here. I need to get to the wastewater room.”
There was the pounding of a foot or a shoulder against the door.
“Where is it?”
“One flight down.”
Beauvoir turned full circle, desperate for another way out. His eyes landed on one. But he dismissed it. There was no way. Not possible.
There was a shot. The door buckled.
“Do you have claustrophobia?” he asked.
Just then, the monitor rotated to the camera outside Pump Room Two. It showed a black-and-white image. Of Gamache. Lying on the concrete. A gunman standing over him.
Hands grabbed him and lifted him off the floor, then shoved him into a kneeling position.
He knew what that meant even before he felt the muzzle pressed against the base of his skull.
“Oh, no,” said Jean-Guy. Not wanting to look, but needing to see. “Nonono.”
The camera rotated on, to another site.
“Bring it back.”
“Are you sure you want—”
“Do it!”
Armand brought his elbows in, to protect what was in his pocket. If, when, he fell…
“That’s an odd thing to do, Armand. What do you have in there.”
Lavigne nodded, and one of the men dragged the jacket off him and handed it to him.
“Cuff him.”
His arms were pinned behind his back, and he felt the plastic wrist ties tighten until they cut into his skin.
Gamache’s back was to Lavigne, so he couldn’t see, but he heard a sound of genuine amusement and knew what he’d found.
“Oh, Armand. You’ve just become an accomplice.”
Beauvoir shoved a chair to the wall and, climbing onto it, he yanked the cover off the vent. It was, he thought, just about large enough.
Or maybe it was just small enough so that a person would get wedged in there.
Looking from the dark tunnel, to the monitor, Jean-Guy felt a wave of panic.
Lavigne bent down until his face was right in front of his. His colleague. They’d shared a mutual trust. One Lavigne had counted on. Traded on. Weaponized.
He held up the small container. “Clever of them to put it into an aspirin bottle. Security would never question it.” He handed it to one of the gunmen. “Take it inside. Give it to the head tech. She’ll know what to do.”
“No!” Gamache fought to get up but was kicked to the floor. “I’m begging you,” he gasped. “For God’s sake, David, don’t do it.”
He was once again shoved into a kneeling position.
