“Just be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.” She sounded worried, and he had a thought as he put on his jeans and a black sweater. He called the American embassy before he left the hotel. He asked for the duty officer at the CIA desk, and introduced himself with his CIA ID number, and said he had the proper credentials with him. They said they’d be ready for him when he arrived. They had no problem with his request.

When he got to the Faubourg Saint-Honoré, the street was closed to protect the British and American embassies, and the Élysée Palace, the French White House. They had set up a movable bulletproof wall and there were swarms of riot police on the street. All the shops were closed and many boarded up to discourage looters. It was the fanciest shopping street in Paris, full of jewelers and luxury stores. When he got to a police barricade, Mike showed his badge and credentials and pointed to the U.S. Embassy, and the policeman in charge waved him past the barriers. He wove his way through the riot police, gendarmes, and regular police, and entered the American embassy. A battalion of marines in combat uniforms were protecting the building, but inside, people were busy and grateful to be well protected. Mike asked for the CIA duty officer, who was expecting him, and they led him into a room where the agent was waiting.

“They get a little out of control here, sir.” The CIA agent in charge smiled at him. “You’re smart to pick up a loaner.” It wasn’t a large gun, but if anything untoward happened, he wanted to be able to protect Theo, and the weapon they were lending him would do the job. He felt better having it than not. He never traveled armed, unless absolutely necessary. It complicated things at the airport, and he hadn’t expected to need a weapon in Paris, and was surprised by how extreme the preparations in the streets looked. He put it securely in his waistband at his back, which he thought Theo was less likely to notice. The guards in her employ were heavily armed, so it wouldn’t be entirely unfamiliar to her, but surely a surprise that he was armed too. And hard to explain why he’d need a gun, as a lawyer.

“I’ll get it back to you on Monday,” he promised, after signing a slip for the loan, and then he loaded it with the bullets he’d been given. They gave him an embassy pass to go with it, in case he got stopped by police, which they said wasn’t likely, and then offered him a bulletproof vest, which he declined. “I hate the damn things. I get so hot in them and I won’t need it,” he said confidently, and the agent nodded agreement. All the agents complained of the same thing.