Chapter 43
Bewilderment and confusion crept into Dennis Patterson's mind as he walked off flight 183 at the Charles de Gaulle airport. Craig finally caught up with Dennis as they claim their luggage. Four DST agents grabbed the FBI agents, placed black bags around their heads and took them to the French DST Blackout room in Paris.
The agent was forcibly dragged into the secret underground location of the French DST. Rage festered in Craig’s heart as the FBI agents were forced into an elevator. As the elevator door opened, they were placed onto a mobile pedestrian walkway that whisk the agents along a corridor for at least a mile. Finally the agent was forced into a high speed elevator and sent up to the seventh floor.
Once the agent reached the outer office of DST, an agent hastily escorted the FBI agents towards the office of DST director Andre’Rouèche. As agent Peterson tried to adjust to the bright light, he noticed that two highly trained members of the French Armor Marine Brigade, armed with AC-556 high power assault weapons, guarded the only door in the DST office.
Andre’ Rouèche has been the director of the French DST for the past thirteen years. Rouèche disliked the FBI just as much as he disliked the British MI6.
Andre cast his suspicious eyes upon the agents as they were thrust into his office.
“Sorry for the inconvenience,” Mr. Rouèche claimed as he shook Dennis’s hand. “I just heard from your boss, Dexter Framingham. The FBI director just informed me that you are on a mission to capture the international terrorist named Martinez.”
Dennis’s felt cynical of the Andre’s true intention as he rubbed his aching wrist. “This flight was a last minute plan. I am sure our director explained to you that Martinez is a suspect in the killing of a senator.”
Andre’ shifted his suspicious brown eyes toward agent Craig Holloway; Craig remained standing in the corner of the Andre’s office looking forbidding.
“Oh, sorry sir, this is my partner agent Craig Holloway,” Dennis proclaimed.
Craig snarled at Andre while his chartreuse colored eyes glared at him with distain. His heart was besieged with bitterness and resentment over the way the French intelligence agency has desecrate him since his arrival on French soil. “The audacity of the DST to treat two FBI agents this way was apprehensive and unforgivable,” Craig proclaimed.
“Charmed,” Andre’ said as he turned away from Craig’s paranoid glare.
“You’re not authorized to be here agent Dennis Peterson,” Andre’ hypothesized in his best possible English. The tension in the office suddenly spiked as André shifted his eyes back to Craig. “Considering the importance of your case and the lecture I got on international cooperation between our country, I am at your disposal.” André's smiled as he used his French charm to hide a rather insincere earnestness for collaboration between the FBI and the French DST.
As director of the French intelligence agency, DST, André had eighteen thousand agents, A twenty-one million francs budget, three hundred thousand gun's, riffle and assort high explosives at his disposal.
Still only forty-eight, Andre had thin brown hair, deep dark brown eyes and a scruffy beard. Most French women wouldn’t consider André ugly, but rather average looking with small ears and pale white skin. But it was his charming smile and charismatic style that always ensnared most women.
“How exactly can I help your agent Dennis Paterson?” André insisted as he motioned Dennis to take a seat in the large leather chair. Agent Holloway remained firmly and defiantly standing in the corner.
Dennis took a moment to discreetly examine the director’s office. The well appointed office was adorned with several awards, including the National Order of the Legion of Honor and a signed picture of Francois Mitterrand, the president of France.
“We are after this man,” Dennis disclosed as he handed Andre’ a picture. “he name is---”
“Mr. Robert f. Dubinsky AKA Albert Kandinsky.You seem surprised Mr. Peterson? We are not dummies you know; The French DST are very well informed about your true mission here in France.”
Dennis grumbled in frustration. “We have pictures proving without a doubt that Dubinsky was in Senator Anderson’s office less they 8 hours ago.
Andre flipped open a file on his desk. “Mr. Robert f. Dubinsky was born September 3,1922 in Düsseldorf. He was a member of the German 744th Infantry Regiment under Field Marshals von Rundstedt during the second world war. According to our record, Mr. Dubinsky died in Sainte-Mère-Église, France, June 6, 1944 during the D-day invasion.”
Andre’ slowly leaned back into his leather chair smug in his superiority. The years of studying at Harvard and Oxford intensify André’s ability to speak English exceptionally well. Thought his English still had a strong French accent, his comprehensive use of the language surprised and intimidated the agents.
Andre loathe the American’s swagger and their pompous attitude. The FBI agent’s self righteousness attitude only infuriated André. Andre’s distrust of the FBI made him very apprehensive about telling them the whole truth about Robert Dubinsky and his association with international terrorist named Martinez.
“The French government has been watching you very suspicious Mr. Holloway,” André snarled viciously as he read from a file. “Craig Holloway, former decorated marine deployment into Vietnam twice then abruptly dishonorable discharged from the Marines for murdering a fellow Marine. Recently graduated from FBI Academy. Assigned to be agent Paterson’s new partner after his previous partner, Agent Roger Campbell, was mysteriously murdered. You where born in Mount Vernon N.Y. Your graduated last in you class at the academy. Andre paused for a moment and chuckled to himself. “It seems, according to this file, you were divorced twice and you have one child that you haven’t seen in years.”
From the smile on Mr. Andre’ Rouèche’s face, it is obvious that he enjoyed taunting agent Holloway.
“Enough,” Dennis hastily snarled. Agent Patterson was furious with André narcissistic attitude.
A cynical smiled emerged on Andre’s face as he opened another file and said, Dennis Paterson, son of Katy and Bill Paterson, born Grover, Wisconsin in 1931. In 1940 your mother died of cancer and your father was mysteriously murder the day of you graduation from the FBI Academy. Last year you were brought up on charges of corruption, bribery and the murder of your old partners Roger Campbell.”
“Okay,” Dennis grumbled. “I don't what kind of game your playing; just tell us the whereabouts of Robert Dubinsky and his boss Martinez?”
André was in an uncooperative spirt as he split his icy glare between the FBI agents. The director of the French DST suddenly became perverse, delinquent and hostility toward the Americans as his stared deferentially back at the agents.
Craig's heart was flushed with anger and contempt as he screamed, “What is Martinez real name and why did he kill senator Anderson?”
Mr. Rouèche felt disheartened at Craig’s sudden outburst. André pondered for a moment before he reluctantly said, “We don’t know Martinez’s real name or his connection to Senator Jefferson Anderson.”
Anger and resentment erupted in Dennis’s soul as he screamed, “I don't believe you director. I think you know Martinez’s real name.”
Andre’s faced turned demoniac as a callus look quickly washed across his face. “We don't know Martinez real name yet, but I do know that there is an agent within the FBI that conspired with Martinez to kill senator Anderson.”
A brutish snarl crossed Craig's face as he screamed, “That is impossible.”
Dread filled Andre’s voice as uttered “according to a CIA report I recently acquired, there is an FBI agent working with Martinez to hunt down and kill senator Anderson and the remanning soldier from the eighty-six airborne platoon. Unfortunately I don't know the agents name yet. But I do know that the FBI agent’s mother name was Mary Hansen.”
“What is the father’s name of the this alleged spy with the FBI?” Dennis insisted.
Andre’s heart was full of resentment and rage as he reluctantly uttered, “I don't know.”
A skeptical smirk emerged on Dennis’s face as utters, “Where is Martinez and Dubinsky now?”
Robert Dubinsky and his boss Martinez just landed their private plane at a small airport just outside Paris less than three hours ago.”
“Shit,” Craig shouted, as he pounded his fist on André’s desk. “You could have told us sooner, You French vindictive prick.”
Anger besieged Andre’s mind as he stood up and relocated himself onto the corner of his desk and reluctantly handed Dennis a vanilla envelope. Hate flared in André’s eyes as he retaliated Craig’s angry cold stare.
Dennis quickly opened up the folder to see two pictures. “That is your friend Dubinsky,” Andre’ quickly bestowed as he pointed to one of the pictures.
“Who is this guy?” Dennis inquired in a ferocious voice.
“That is his boss Martinez.” Andre confessed as he lit a Cuban cigar.
Dennis stared at André in bewilderment. “They were taken today,” André declared.
“we have an agent following them now towards the village of Sainte-Mère-Église. If you hurry, you just might catch him.”
Craig and Dennis quickly grabbed their coats and hats and ran for the door before André even has the chance to return to his seat. Dennis paused at the office front doorway and quickly tried to send Andre’ Rouèche a sympathetic, but appreciative smile before they walked out of the director’s office.