Aaron looked back through the rearview mirror at Dieter and the back of the van. “Any more gunfights going to happen back there?”
Flicka was holding the handgun out and away from herself, pointing at the floor with her finger pressed against the body of the gun, not on the trigger, a safe position.
Dieter said, “Flicka, hand that to me.”
“No.” She was staring at the gun in her hand.
“Where did you get that?”
“After you got dressed this morning, it was still in your backpack. I figured it was an extra one.”
“Where did you learn to load and shoot it?”
She shot him an angry look. “I lived with a Swiss sniper and an American gun nut for three months. Where do youthinkI learned to shoot it?”
“Rae is confined to bed.”
“There was video taken for critique of my form.”
He couldn’t help himself, and he grinned at her. “Why didn’t I know about it?”
“Welfenlegiononly. Wulfie thought you wouldn’t approve, but of course, he taught his little sister to shoot a handgun. He probably would have done it sooner except that I lived in Europe after he moved to America. I already knew how to shoot a rifle, of course. I’ve had to open the Hannover sharpshooting competition with a rifle demonstration every year after Wulfie ran off to be a hermit.” She swallowed hard. “I never thought I would have to shoot a person.”
“If it helps, I think you missed. There was a brick wall behind them—”
“I checked the backstop.”
“Good, so I don’t think you hit anyone. I’ve never seen Sault’s Secret Service guys leap quite so quickly, though. You made quite an impression.”
“They were stupid, all of them. They should have run when they saw you with a gun.”
“They knew I probably wouldn’t shoot until they were in the van due to witnesses and closed-circuit, police television cameras.”
“Oh, no.” Her eyes widened again, and the gun drooped in her grip. “I messed things up.”
“The police will certainly be looking for someone firing a gun in Paris, but the main problem is that Quentin Sault saw you with me. I looked right into his eyes. He’ll be looking for both of us, now. He’ll have two trails to follow to lead him to you. We should proceed directly to the airport.”
“But now you can’t even use your passport. I’ve ruined everything.”
Dieter glanced at his backpack, where evidently Flicka hadn’t gone through all the pockets. “I have other passports we can use, passports with other names.”
Flicka’s hands tightened on the gun in her excitement. “You have counterfeit passports with fake names?”
That wasn’t what he’d said.
In the rearview mirror, Aaron glanced at him but kept driving.
The damaged van rumbled onto a main road and blended into traffic as well as it could.
Dieter yelled over the road noise and wind blustering through the half-open door, “Give me that gun, and we’ll go to the airport soon.”
Flicka thumbed the cocked hammer and released it slowly. She threw a terrified look at the half-open van door. “I think I’ll keep it until we get to the airport.”
“You know what I said—”
“Yes, I know what you said, but they almost got in here, didn’t they? And if they can get in, they can take me out.”
“We’ll be on a plane for Las Vegastonight,”he reminded her.
