Firefighters on the scene minutes later would recognize the telltale devastation of a massive gas leak, probably from the connection between the wall and the big industrial oven. This was an unfortunate but all too common occurrence in old homes like this one, and was hardly a surprise. Only hourslater, when the fire had been doused and the water and foam levels lowered to where the bodies could be examined, were the investigators scratching their heads. The seven bodies soaked and burned beyond recognition gave them little information. But the massive amount of firearms surrounding all the victims save one was highly irregular in peaceful Geneva, to say the least.
TWENTY-FIVE
Five minutes after exiting the nail salon, the Gray Man walked west on Rue du Marché, searching for the address on the note card in his hand. A light rain began, blurring his view of the numbers on the buildings. He’d just turned north on Rue du Commerce when an explosion roared behind him.
He stopped in his tracks as did the pedestrians around him on the pavement. Unlike them, however, Gentry did not turn around. After a few seconds standing motionless in the rain, he took a step forward. The momentum returned to his body, and he continued on, his head and shoulders slumped a little lower.
He spotted a watcher, so he dodged into the Rue du Rhône, a small, covered passageway, where he lost his tail in the foot traffic near the McDonald’s.
Minutes later, he found the single-car garage in the back of an underground parking lot below the Rue de la Confédération. It was a Saturday afternoon, no one was around, and the key Maurice gave him unlocked the sliding door.
It opened with a creak, and the dust from inside the unitmixed in his nose with the scent of motor oil. He felt the walls for a light for a half minute before bumping into a large object in the middle of the floor. Above it was a cord attached to a lightbulb hanging over the middle of the room.
Gentry found himself dazzled by the brilliance of the bare bulb. Quickly he pulled down the garage door to seal himself into the room, turned back to find that the object in the center of the garage was some sort of automobile covered by a large tarp.
Maurice had said nothing about loaning him a car. For a second Court wondered if he’d somehow gained entry into the wrong unit.
He pulled back the tarp and let it fall to the pavement.
Before him sat a large black sedan, a Mercedes S-class four-door with a black, all-leather interior.
Court figured the vehicle must have cost over one hundred thousand dollars.
“Thanks, Maurice,” he mumbled.
Opening the unlocked driver’s door, the Gray Man saw the keys were in the ignition. Looking at the dash, he noticed the car had fewer than four thousand miles on it. She was a beauty, and it would certainly make his eight-hour drive to Normandy quicker and more comfortable, but there were other ways to travel. No, what he really needed were weapons. In Europe they were far more difficult to come by than efficient means of transportation.
With anticipation, he popped the trunk of the Mercedes and walked to the back.
Four large aluminum cases stood side by side. Court pulled the first one on top of the others and flipped it open.
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards.
Heavy metal.
“My hero, Maurice,” he said.
An HK MP5, well-oiled and stored in a foam encasement; four magazines with thirty preloaded nine-millimeter rounds in each lay side by side in the foam; and two fragmentation hand grenades, one resting on either side of the MP5.
He loaded the submachine gun, chambered a round, and tossed it in the front seat of the Mercedes with all the spare magazines.
The second case contained two fragmentation and two flash-bang stun grenades, two door-breaching charges, and a small cube of Semtex plastic explosive with a remote detonating device. Court left this equipment in the trunk for now.
Brushed aluminum case number three housed a handheld GPS unit, two matched walkie-talkies, and a laptop computer. All this gear went into the backseat of the car.
In the final case Court found two Glock-19 nine-millimeter pistols and four loaded magazines.
Also in this container Court found a utility belt and two thigh rigs. One was for carrying a Glock on his right hip, and the other would hang on his left leg and hold magazines for the submachine gun and the pistol.
On a hunch he lifted the carpet up in the trunk of the Mercedes. There he discovered one more weapon, an AR-15 carbine assault rifle. Alongside the spare tire was a plastic container with three loaded magazines full of .223 ammunition, ninety rounds in all.
Court spent a few minutes powering up the sat phone and familiarizing himself with the GPS. All the while the police,fire department, and ambulance sirens continued to wail a quarter mile away at Maurice’s house.
This massive weapons cache told Gentry two things about his former mentor. One, though he was out of the CIA and living in the open, he still had some reason to believe he might need to blast his way out of a sticky situation.
And two, from the look of the top-notch automobile and the insane quantity and quality of the gear, it was apparent to Gentry that the rumors about his mentor had been true.
Hehadlikely embezzled from the accounts he maintained for the CIA.
