Chapter 6 - Marked Men
Vincent led Leo through a narrow fissure in the limestone that opened into the maintenance tunnels of the Paris Métro line 4. The transition from the silent crypts to the rumbling vibration of underground trains was jarring. The air grew warmer, thick with the smell of ozone, electrified steel, and brake dust.
Vincent pulled the tactical comms earpiece from his ear and crushed it beneath his boot. He used his handkerchief to wipe the dried blood from his forehead, then helped Leo pull up the hood of his tattered jacket.
""We are coming up near Saint-Germain-des-Prés,"" Vincent told Leo, keeping his voice beneath the rumble of an approaching train. ""We have to blend in. The moment we reach the street, you keep your head down and hold my hand. Do not look at the cameras.""
They climbed an emergency egress ladder that led up into a maintenance utility shed behind an unassuming alleyway off the Rue de Rennes. Vincent cautiously eased the metal access door open an inch. Rain had begun to fall across Paris, turning the afternoon skies into a dull slate grey. The street was bustling with pedestrians carrying umbrellas, taxis splashing through puddles, and shopkeepers attending their storefronts.
Vincent stepped out, guiding Leo close to his side. But as they passed a public digital billboard outside a newsagent's kiosk, Vincent froze.
Across the giant electronic screen, his own face was plastered in glaring high definition, beside a terrifying headline:
WANTED: ARMED ABDUCTION OF A MINOR
Vincent de La Tour, 68, wanted in connection with violent kidnapping and murder of an armed security escort on the Quai d’Orsay. Suspect is armed, extremely dangerous, and travelling with child.
""Mon Dieu,"" Vincent breathed.
Julian had played his masterstroke. He hadn't just dispatched hit squads; he had weaponized the entire French National Police. Every transit hub, airport, and patrol car in the Île-de-France region would now be actively hunting Vincent. If an officer saw him, they would shoot first and ask questions later to protect the supposed child hostage.
""Grandfather?"" Leo murmured, staring at the screen with rising panic. ""They think you stole me.""
""I know, Leo,"" Vincent replied, pulling the boy swiftly under the awning of an antique bookstore to break line of sight with two approaching gendarmes. ""He wants to isolate us. If the police intercept us, Julian's men inside the ministry will ensure we never survive transit to the precinct.""
""Where do we go?"" Leo asked, his small hand gripping Vincent's fingers so tightly the skin turned white. ""Mother said Saint-Sulpice.""
Vincent looked down the street toward the twin towers of the church of Saint-Sulpice, rising above the limestone rooftops two blocks away. Sirens were already wailing in the distance, echoing off the historic facades. Two police cruisers turned the corner onto Rue de Rennes, their blue lights flashing erratically through the rain.
""We go to the sanctuary,"" Vincent said grimly. ""And we find the truth about your mother.""
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They slipped through the alleyways, moving through service doors and rain-slicked courtyards, avoiding every main thoroughfare. As they reached the grand stone plaza before the church, Vincent saw the heavy police cordons already forming around the perimeter.
Julian anticipated their every move. But he had forgotten one crucial detail: Vincent had funded the private restoration of Saint-Sulpice twenty years ago. He knew the church had a second, hidden entrance that existed on no modern architectural blueprint.
