Chapter 04


New York

Cameron drove the black Mercedes out of the hotel parking garage onto the street.  At the next block he turned onto Broadway.  He peered into the rearview mirror.

“It’s clear.  There doesn’t seem to be any one following us.”

The woman slid up into her seat and turned to the back, “Nicole, it is safe.”

Cameron tilted the rearview to look at the young woman.  Lying on her side, head on the armrest of the door, the young woman vacuously gazed up at the buildings passing above the car.

The young woman, dressed in a white blouse and slacks, wore no jewelry or makeup.  The older woman was dressed the same, wore little makeup on her eyes and lips and an emerald pendant low on her neck.

“Nicole, that’s her name?” asked Cameron.

“Je suis désolée.  Yes, excuse me, I am sorry.  Her name is Nicole.  She is my ward.  My name is Marie.”

“Nice to meet you Marie.  My name is Cameron, Cameron Kincaid.  Would you like to tell me what happened back there?  Why were those men trying to kill you and why there are four dead men back at my restaurant?”

“Excuse me Mister Kincaid, you did not seem fazed by the shooting.  You killed that man without hesitation.  Very odd for a restaurateur, they teach you this in cooking school?”

“That, well, I was not always a chef.”

“You were a soldier?” asked Nicole.

“Nicole, Mister Kincaid is obviously a trained professional.”

“It’s Cameron, and yes,” Cameron glanced up into the mirror, “I was with the Foreign Legion, but that was years ago.”

“The French Foreign Legion?” asked Nicole.  “You are French?”

“Yes, the French Foreign Legion and no, I am not French.”

“I did not know there were Americans in the Foreign Legion,” said Marie.

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