The Paris Confrontation
1190 Words
The safe house was a walk-up apartment on the Left Bank. Old building. Creaky stairs. A view of a courtyard where no one ever went. Cole stood by the window. The street below was quiet. Paris was sleeping.
Kane sat at a small table. Maps spread in front of him. Photographs. Notes.
“The building is in the Marais,” Kane said. “Four stories. Apartment on the top floor. She has the whole floor. No neighbors.”
“Security?”
“Two men at the street entrance. Two in the lobby. Two outside her door. Plus her personal bodyguard. A woman. Former French special forces.”
Cole turned from the window. “That's six. Plus Diana.”
“Plus Diana. She's trained. Armed. Dangerous.”
“So are we.”
Kane nodded. “The team is in position. We go at midnight.”
“Why midnight?”
“Shift change. The guards are tired. Less alert.”
Cole walked to the table. Looked at the photographs. Diana's face stared back at him.
“I want her alive.”
“That's not the plan.”
“Change the plan.”
Kane leaned back. “She's killed dozens of people. She'll kill more if we let her go.”
“She's not going free. She's going to prison. To face justice.”
“Justice is what we make it.”
Cole leaned closer. “I'm not him. I'm not my father. I don't kill unarmed prisoners.”
Kane was quiet. Then he nodded. “Alive. But if she shoots at you, all bets are off.”
“Fair enough.”
---
The clock ticked. 11 PM. 11:30. 11:45.
Cole checked his weapons. Pistol. Knife. Extra magazines.
He wore black. Tactical vest. Night vision goggles.
Kane stood. “It's time.”
They walked to the car. Drove through the empty streets.
The Marais was silent. Old buildings. Narrow streets.
Kane parked around the corner. They walked to the rendezvous point.
The team was waiting. Four men. Former military. Hard faces.
“The roof,” Kane said. “We go in through the skylight. Quiet. Fast.”
They climbed the fire escape. The metal creaked under their weight.
The roof was flat. Gravel. A skylight in the center.
Cole looked through the glass. The apartment below was dark.
“No lights,” he whispered.
“She's sleeping.”
“Or waiting.”
Kane signaled. One of the team cut the glass. Silent. Precise.
The skylight opened. Cole went first.
He dropped into the apartment. Landed soft. His rifle swept the room.
Empty.
He moved to the hallway. Clear.
The bedrooms. Empty.
The kitchen. Empty.
Diana was gone.
Cole's blood ran cold. “She knew.”
Kane dropped beside him. “How?”
“The mole. Miller. He must have warned her.”
Kane pulled out his phone. Typed. “I'm putting out an alert. Airports. Train stations. Border crossings.”
“She's not running. She's hiding. Here. In the city.”
“How do you know?”
Cole walked to the window. Looked out at the street.
“Because she wants to see me. Face to face. Before it ends.”
---
They searched the apartment. Found nothing. No files. No computers. No weapons.
Just a photograph on the nightstand.
Diana as a child. Standing next to her father. Victor Cross. Smiling.
Cole picked up the photograph. Turned it over.
Writing on the back. “The past is never past. It's just waiting.”
He showed Kane.
“She's playing with us.”
“Then we play back.”
They left the apartment. The street was still empty.
Cole's phone buzzed. A text.
“Nice try. But you'll have to do better than that. —D.C.”
Cole typed a reply. “Where are you?”
“Somewhere close. Somewhere you'll never find me.”
“I always find you.”
“Not this time.”
Cole put away the phone. Looked at Kane.
“She's still in the city.”
“We'll find her.”
“Not tonight. Tonight, we regroup.”
They drove back to the safe house. The team dispersed.
Cole sat by the window. The sun was rising. The sky was pink.
Kane walked over. Coffee in his hand.
“You should sleep.”
“I can't.”
“You'll need your strength.”
Cole took the coffee. Drank. The bitterness woke him up.
“She's not going to stop. Not until one of us is dead.”
“Then it's going to be her.”
Cole looked at Kane. “You sound sure.”
“I am sure. Because we're better than her. Smarter. More determined.”
“She has money. Resources. Connections.”
“So do we.”
Cole stood. Walked to the window.
“I need to call my mother. Let her know I'm okay.”
“Use the burner.”
Cole pulled out the phone. Dialed.
Evelyn answered on the first ring. “Cole. Where are you?”
“Paris. I'm safe.”
“Did you find her?”
“She found us. Then she disappeared.”
“Come home. Please.”
“I can't. Not until this is finished.”
Evelyn was quiet. Then she said, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hung up. Looked at the phone.
A text from Diana.
“Your mother sounds worried. You should put her out of her misery. Come home. Give up.”
Cole didn't reply. He turned off the phone.
---
The next three days were a blur. Kane's team searched the city. Every hotel. Every safe house. Every known contact.
Nothing.
Diana had vanished.
On the fourth day, Cole received a text.
“I'm leaving Paris. Going somewhere you'll never find me. But don't worry. I'll be back. When you least expect it. —D.C.”
Cole showed Kane.
“She's gone.”
“For now.”
“What do we do?”
Kane sat down. His face was tired.
“We go home. We wait. We live our lives. And when she comes back, we're ready.”
Cole nodded. “When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
---
The plane landed in New York at 3 PM. Clark was waiting at the gate.
“You look like hell.”
“I feel like hell.”
Clark hugged him. “Come on. Mom's waiting.”
The drive to Virginia was quiet. The trees were bare. Winter was coming.
The farmhouse was warm. Evelyn was in the kitchen.
She hugged Cole. Held on tight.
“You're back.”
“I'm back.”
“For good?”
Cole looked at his mother. “For now.”
She nodded. Didn't ask more.
Dinner was quiet. The conversation was light.
After dinner, Cole sat on the porch. The stars were bright.
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number.
“I'm watching you. Enjoying your happiness. It makes the eventual fall so much sweeter. —D.C.”
Cole read the text. Then he deleted it.
He walked inside. Locked the door.
The war wasn't over.
But tonight, he would rest.
- Writer
