Page 199 of The Grey Wolf
With each name Armand screwed his eyes tighter shut. Trying to block out the images.
“Zora. Honoré. And what’s the smallest one’s name? The one with Down syndrome, like my sister-in-law?”
Gamache began thrashing. But to no effect. He was just heldtighter, his hair grabbed and head jerked up so that he was staring into Lavigne’s eyes.
“Idola. They will all die unless you tell me where you put the notebooks. Tell me and I’ll spare them.”
Armand’s breathing came in short gasps.
This was the nightmare. The final one…
How he longed to tell him. To believe him. But he knew it was a lie. If he told him, they’d be killed anyway. And yet he wanted to, he wanted to, he wanted…
“Please,” he sobbed. “For God’s sake, don’t do this. They know nothing. The notebooks aren’t there.”
“Then where are they? Tell me!”
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Charles’s books were the only proof, the only documents outlining the plot. Naming names. They had to be kept safe. At all costs.
CHAPTER45
Two armed men broke through the door to the control room, assault rifles raised.
Except for those lying on the floor, the place was empty. The chief engineer, gagged, was trying to communicate something.
“Fuck.” The leader strode over to the chair and the open vent.
He stepped onto the chair and pointed his rifle down the shaft. And fired.
“Drop them.”
Beauvoir had stepped out from behind the console, gun drawn.
The gunmen turned, swinging their rifles around. They only got partway before—Bang! Bang! Bang!
Both dropped. Beauvoir grabbed their rifles. “Come on, come on!”
Lagacé followed Beauvoir through the door. Within a minute they were down the stairs and at the wastewater-treatment room. The three workers there were looking confused but not yet panicked.
“What’s happening, Manon? Was that gunfire?”
They looked at the man with her. He was holding a gun.
“Step away,” said Manon. “I need the console.”
She punched in some codes and watched.
“What’re you doing?” one of the men demanded.
“She’s opened the doors. You’re causing a spill.Arrête!”
“No,” said the third. “She’s shutting down the whole fucking place. Listen.”
He was right. Beauvoir could hear it now. A very slight change in the hum, the thrum, the throb around them. It grew deeper, slower. Like a huge heart, stopping.
“It’ll still take too long…” Manon looked at Beauvoir.
“Stay here.”
