The Mercedes was speeding off fast down Boulevard du Montparnasse. Ben ran for his car, blipping the locks as he went. The gendarme was still just standing there alone. But he wouldn’t be alone for long, because half the Parisian police would soon be screaming to the scene. Ben yelled, ‘Multiple casualties inside the café, including two dead terrorists. Hold the fort, Officer. Backup’s on its way.’ Then he was behind the wheel of the Alpina and firing it up in a throaty blast of quad exhausts and stamping his foot on the gas, slamming into the car in front to knock it out of his way as he took off after the disappearing Mercedes.

This bastard wasn’t getting away so easily.

Chapter 27

Ben’s foot was hard to the floor as the revs mounted in a soaring howl and the acceleration pressed him back into his seat. The Mercedes had a seventy-yard lead on him but the Alpina could hit 100 kilometres per hour from a standstill in under four seconds. The boulevard became a tunnel blurred at the edges. All he could see was his prey ahead, its flaring brake lights getting closer now as the Mercedes was forced to slow for the confusion of stalled traffic further down the street. Drivers were honking horns, or getting out and craning their necks wondering what was happening, or else abandoning their vehicles and escaping on foot as they began to realise that an incident was taking place. The Mercedes ploughed a wild course between the stopped cars, hitting everything it came near and turning the confusion to panic and chaos.

Ben followed with gritted teeth, refusing to let up his speed. He intended to catch this guy and make him talk, no matter what.

The gap between him and the Mercedes had halved already. Now it closed to thirty yards. The fleeing gunman was on the edge of losing control. Suddenly a stretch bus lumbered out of a side street and slammed on the brakes as its driver saw the Mercedes rocketing straight for him. The Mercedes flew into a squealing skid, mounted the central reservation sideways, pulverised an empty bus stop and a railing and almost overturned before it somehow righted itself and kept on going.

Just twenty-five yards behind, Ben swerved around the front of the stopped bus, knocked aside the wreckage in the Mercedes’ wake, and kept on chasing. Next the gunman took a violent turn to the left, off Montparnasse and into Boulevard Raspail, screaming so wide through the junction that he almost overshot and smashed through the entrance of a corner patisserie. Ben dived into the turn right on his tail and accelerated hard after him.