Freeze (The Jewel Project #4)

10.1|| A New Race

"It's weird to see him this focused," Tom mumbled to Angie as they followed Sam through the streets of Paris, in pursuit of Christine. "He's been pretty high-headed later."

"Don't use the word high around him," she answered with a smile. "He's afraid of heights. A left here, Sam," she called out. "I wish he'd slow down so I could actually lead instead of shouting instructions to him."

"Someone else beside him lead?" Tom asked, feigning shock. "Never!"

"I can hear you," Sam called back.

Tom knew he could. That was the whole point, but it was still fun to tease him. It made what they had to do a little easier to bear. He didn't even know what they'd do once they reached Christine's prison hotel, because they'd been apparently held in hotels. But Sam was back to being leader, so he could afford to turn back into brainless muscle for this assignment.

"Slow down, we're almost here," Angie said and Sam finally halted his progress.

They stopped on a patch of snow which might've been a small green area in the summer. Across the street, behind a row of snow-laden trees, was a tall, handsome building which was undoubtedly a hotel. Two brutes stood on either side of the door, one of them smoking, the other one not-so-subtly clutching a gun which was most likely inside his jacket.

"It's here. I don't know the floor or room number, but it shouldn't be too hard to--" Angie's words died in her throat as Sam darted across the street.

He reached the goons before they had time to do more than stare at him in disbelief because, not only was their target walking straight at them, but he also appeared alone. Sam punched the one with the gun in the chin, and with a very impressive twist-kick, sent Cigarette Guy sliding on the sidewalk. Both men hit the ground. Without sparing them a second glance, Sam entered the hotel.

Tom shook his head to snap himself out of his daze and followed Angie across the street. He knocked Cigarette Guy out and pulled him inside the hotel lobby while Angie did the same with his companion. By the time they dragged the bodies inside, Sam had already reached the shiny wooden front desk and was conversing with the attendant.

"I have no idea what you just said," Sam was saying, "but I didn't like your tone. So let's try this again." He pulled his gun out and rested his elbows on top of the desk, as if waving that thing around was the most natural thing ever.

Tom instinctively looked around, but the few people resting on couches in the lobby were too busy studying their tourist maps to notice that a pistol-waving mad man had just entered their hotel. The attendant however blanched, and for perfectly good reason.

"Have you seen a very beautiful girl, about this high, chocolate brown hair, wearing a pinkish trench coat?" Sam asked, his tone perfectly polite.

The man said something in French. Sam shook his head, steadied his gun and repeated the question. Angie and Tom dropped the unconscious men and hurried to flank him and block as much of him from view as possible. The receptionist didn't seem at all reassured by the appearance of hoodlum backup.

"She left," he finally said, his accent thick and hardly intelligible. "With two men. Hours ago."

"Did you happen to catch where they were going?" Sam asked, his tone just as pleasant as before.

"She was saying to ze men not to take her out of Paris."

"Merci beaucoup," Sam said, finally putting his gun away.

Tom and Angie were more than happy to follow him outside. The moment Sam faltered outside the door, Tom grabbed his arm and dragged him away. In the distance, the blaring of sirens was already audible. They turned a few corners and disappeared deeper into the maze of streets.