De Payns stared at the phone, the call now ended. What was Romy involved in? The director of DGS tells him to shut up about the disappearance of his family and reminds him of his oath, the one he took on being commissioned at the Company. That oath included total adherence to information security imposed from above. If someone with a higher rank told you something was secret, you disavowed all knowledge until you were told otherwise. No exceptions.

He was aware of his own panting. He knew how to get through situations where his life was in danger; he had the skills and personality to handle it. But the threat to his family was triggering pure animal fear.

He picked up the phone again, thought about calling Shrek or Templar. He thought about calling Briffaut. But he’d wait until after he’d seen Manerie, he decided. He would also revert to his training—if you have the opportunity, always do recon of a meeting site. Reconnaissance was always worth the effort. He ran down the fire stairs again and emerged in the parking garage. It was now 1.29 a.m. He made for the far side of the garage, where the building manager had a caged-off area containing the water meters, power meters and assorted hardware such as sump pumps and ladders. De Payns used the wires in his key ring to pick the padlock on the cage gate and moved to the corner where the pipes and conduits all disappeared upwards into the building. He shifted a stepladder into position and reached up and into the pipes cavity, and brought down an object wrapped in oilskin canvas. He removed the CZ 9mm handgun, checked it for safety and load, pushed it into his belt and replaced the oilskin. Then he left the cage, relocking the gate behind him.

The street was slick with recent rain. He walked away from his apartment for one hundred metres, looking for anomalies, then crossed to the other side of the street. He walked in the shadows of the trees, the only person moving. Ahead he saw something that triggered his brain—a blue tradesman’s van parked fifty metres west of his building. Tradesmen did not generally live in Montparnasse. He was walking towards it when a black Audi SUV slowed and then stopped in front of his building. De Payns knew the occupants would be looking at the entrance to the apartment building, so he walked slowly in the shadows, watching the vehicle. There seemed to be only one occupant. He stepped into the street. A block away a truck started its engines. He looked through the window of the Audi and saw Manerie, alone at the wheel, face ethereal in the red glow of the instruments. He opened the passenger door, giving Manerie a start.

‘Tell me where my family is,’ said de Payns.