Page 193 of The Grey Wolf
Some of those on the floor were quietly weeping. At least one was praying.
Gamache ignored it all. Except.
He noticed that one of them had his hands awkwardly placed on his head.
“You.” He pointed the gun at him. “Slowly lower your right hand to the floor and open it.” The man hesitated. “Now!”
As he did, a small bottle rolled out and started making its way toward him across the concrete floor.
“Are we close?” demanded Beauvoir as they walked quickly along the corridor. “We have to get to the command center before Gamache shuts down the pump.”
“Yes, I was listening. It’s just down here. I think.”
“You think? You think? Wait a minute. Why did that man tell you about the blocked toilet?”
“Engineers. That’s about the level of their conversation.”
Beauvoir grabbed her arm and swung her around. “What’s your job here?”
“I’m an engineer.”
“Right, but what do you engineer?”
She paused. “Sanitation.”
“The toilets?”
“All the waste.” She stared at him, daring Beauvoir to say more. Which he did.
“Don’t you think you could’ve told us that? We need to stop a terrorist attack, not unblock a toilet.”
“Listen, asshole. I thought you knew what I did. And what would you have done if I’d told you? Driven to the next name on the list?” She glared at him. “You begged for my help, and instead of going back to bed, I came. Like it or not, I’m it.” She looked around. “It’s here somewhere.”
“Are you fucking with me?”
“Oh, look, we’re right in front of it.” She waved at the door he was standing in front of and gave him a sardonic smile. “Now there’s a piece of dumb luck.”
Sure enough, a plate on the wall saidCommand Center.
“Get behind me.”
This time there was no argument from Manon Lagacé.
Gamache scooped up the small bottle, examined it, then slipped it into his pocket. If he’d had time, he’d have questioned the technicianwho’d tried to palm the poison, but there were more pressing things right now.
At the control panel he quickly put in the code, pausing for a moment.
He hoped to God Beauvoir had secured the command center.
Then he pressed the final key.
The door was unlocked, which meant the terrorists hadn’t yet made their move. Those inside were not alerted to the saboteurs in their midst.
Beauvoir brought out his gun and stepped through. Six people turned and stared at him, two of them in guard uniforms. They were reaching for their weapons when a single red light appeared on one screen.
Then the whole section of wall burst into flashing red.
“What the hell—” said the man at the console.
