“No, it’s not.” Lines crimped between Julien’s eyes and on his forehead.
“Was it money?” Raphael demanded. “Or did they threaten you? We can take care of that, permanently.”
Julien said, his voice oddly constricted, “It doesn’t matter now. Flicka, Your Highness, please walk over toPrince Pierre Grimaldi.”
Flicka stood up to him. “Lower your weapon. If Pierre was paying you, thenMonacowas paying you. I’m a princess of Monaco and his equal in every way. I have every bit as much right to command you as he does. Don’t do this.”
Julien shook his head. “I picked my master, and now I have to pay for it.” He swung his gun to point at Raphael’s forehead, and his finger movedfrom the side of the gun to the trigger. “Your Gracious Highness, Flicka, please move slowly toward the Secret Service agents. I don’t want to do this.”
She inched sideways, preparing to walk toward the Monegasque men at the end of the hallway. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll stay in Monaco.”
“No!Don’t go with them!” Raphael yelled, and then,“Jordan!”though his gray eyes didn’t move from the gun pointingat his forehead.
At the end of the corridor, Quentin Sault looked behind himself.
Jordan Defrancesco was standing behind Prince Pierre Grimaldi.
An angry energy seized his body, and he yelled, “Jesus Christ!Fine!”
Flicka held her breath.
Jordan Defrancesco yanked his gun from its holster and pointed it straight at the back of Pierre’s head. “Let them go. Let them go now!”
Quentin told him,“Stand down. Don’t do this.”
Jordan Defrancesco moved sideways, still pointing the gun at Pierre. “You punched Lorenzo in the mouth and fired all those guys, all those menwho were loyal to you,who were just following orders in Paris! They didn’t deserve it. They all had families to support. They were willing to die for you, and you treated them like trash.”
Quentin told Jordan, “Put the gundown. You can’t raise a weapon in the presence of your prince.”
“He’s not my prince anymore,” Jordan Defrancesco said. “He was never loyal to us, and I don’t know why any of the rest of you are still loyal to him. He’s going to fire you all for not executing the princess and these guys, even though you would be firing into each other and killing each other.”
More of the Secret Service men grumbledand glanced at one another.
Quentin Sault rolled his eyes. “Gentlemen, do your jobs. At this point, stand down. That means you, too, Jordan and Julien. Both of you, lower your weapons, and then we’ll take these people into custody,calmly.”
“No,” Jordan Defrancesco said, walking backward over to where Raphael and Flicka were standing. “No, I won’t.”
Quentin said, “Drop your gun now, and wewon’t charge you.”
“Iwon’t,”Jordan Defrancesco said. “Julien, you drop your gun. Loyalty runs both ways. Pierre Grimaldi won’t be loyal to you or any of you, any more than he was to the rest of us. Walk out of here with Raphael and the rest of them,” he squinted at them a little, obviously not knowing Luca’s name, “and I will, too. We’ll all get out of here alive. Come on. This is the rightthing to do. Be on the right side of this one.”
Julien’s gun wavered in the air, but he took a tighter grip of it before he turned the gun toward Jordan Defrancesco.
Raphael yelled,“Go!”
Luca leaped and swung his weapon sideways, catching Julien under the jaw with the butt of the pistol. He slammed sideways into the wall.
Raphael and Romain Belmont grabbed Flicka’s elbows and propelled hertoward the door Raphael had said was their exit. She ran, pumping her legs hard those few steps to make it before all hell broke loose. Raphael aimed backward and fired as they ran, forcing Pierre and the Secret Service to dive for cover instead of pursuing them.
Jordan Defrancesco ran with them, aiming his pistol at the men behind them.
The Secret Service agents pointed their weapons.
A shotcracked through the air.
Flicka ran harder, gasping for breath.
Behind her, Quentin Sault yelled, “Cease fire! Cease fire, you idiots!”
Raphael reached out and jerked the doorknob.
Flicka prayed it was unlocked.
The door opened in his hand, and they tumbled through.
