Page 195 of The Grey Wolf
He grabbed the receiver. Dead.
“Can you get the phones working again?”
“I’ll try.”
He watched as she rolled the chair over to another console.
“And get the security cameras back up.”
“Want me to do the windows while I’m at it?” Under her breath she muttered, “Asshole.” Then, a moment later, “Oh, shit, it worked. This’s actually easier than unblocking the men’s toilet.”
The security cameras were still down, but the phone had a dial tone.
“Forrest, it’s Beauvoir.”
“Oui, patron.We’re ready.”
Jean-Guy gave him his orders. They were blown anyway. No need for secrecy now. With luck they’d manage at least to catch the terrorists before they escaped. Even if it was too late to stop the poison.
“What do we do?” Manon asked, panic in her voice, her eyes wide.
“You need to find another way to shut the place down.”
There was no mistaking the look on her face.
They’d failed. It seemed inconceivable but inescapable. And in minutes, if it hadn’t happened already, botulinum would be headed into every home, office, school, hospital, into every tap in the city.
CHAPTER44
Gamache took the stairs two at a time. One hand holding the gun, his other resting on the plastic container in his pocket. Keeping it safe. It was as Sherry Caufield had said. The botulinum would be delivered in a small container, probably disguised as medicine or shampoo to get it by security screening.
Before leaving Pump Room One, he’d yanked the phone out of the wall, not realizing it was already dead, and shot into the control panel, locking the door as he left.
He had less than two minutes before Beauvoir and Lagacé started shutting down the plant. A move that would warn the terrorists, if they weren’t already alerted, and they’d immediately put the poison into Pump Two.
He reached the second-floor landing and banged against the crash bar, bursting into another long corridor. Once again, rapids were coursing down either side, creating a deafening noise. Scanning up and down the hall, Gamache could see only one person a distance away.
He took off for the pump room, no longer caring if he was seen. Once again, he slapped Lagacé’s ID on the screen and heard the clunk as the door unlocked.
He was reaching for the handle when he felt something against the back of his head. It was unmistakable.
The roar of the rushing water had masked the sound of others approaching.
“Drop your weapon, Armand.”
Gamache turned and saw David Lavigne. While not a big surprise, it was still a shock. To see someone he had once completely trusted holding a gun on him.
“Don’t do this.”
“Drop your weapon.” The demand came from one of the three men with him. Gamache recognized two of them as Moretti’s soldiers. The third was a stranger. Large, confident. Silent. He looked like ex–special forces.
Armand had no choice. His gun clattered to the floor, where it was kicked aside. As he lowered his right hand, he brushed it against his pocket and felt the vial.
“You found Langlois’s notebooks, didn’t you. The one loose end, and you had to tug on it.”
Gamache was silent.
“I guess Petrie should have killed you after all in that church. That was a tactical error on my part.”
