Chapter: 53
“Excuse me, sir, we are here,” DST agent Fredric Gregorian’s softly whispered.
Agent Craig Holloway slowly woke from his slumber and shaded his dark green eyes from the glaring light of the morning sun.
Dennis Paterson woke from his lofty dreams and opened the car door. Life slowly tumbled back into his ocean blue eyes as he looked around the village.
“It’s around eight A.M.; we must hurry up,” Craig bellowed as he stretched and yawned himself awake. The bright sunshine from a early morning sun cascaded down from heaven onto the church’s steeple in the center of the village.
“Where are we?” Dennis inquired as he scratched his beard. The smell of cigars and three day old coffee still lingered on Dennis's breath. His hair was disheveled and his once neat long sleeve blue shirt was now unbutton and raggedy like a bum on the street of New York.
“The village of Sainte-Mère-Église,” said Fredric.
Fredric was a young Frenchman from Lyon, France and a recent graduate of the DST’s training camp outside Saltsburg. Agent Gregorian was a bright, witty and charming Frenchman with a chipped front tooth, cheerful amber colored eyes and a straggly beard that adorned his freckled face.
Only in his twenties, Fredric had a distinctive fashion style and a pair of black frame sunglass that extenuated his general good looks and bestowed a touch of mystery to the his demeanor.
Craig was still grumpy and groggy from his three hour trip from Paris. The agent was still wearing a disheveled pair of gray Dockers and a black t shirt he put on four days ago.
“Why are we here?”Craig inquired as he scratched his four day old beard.
“Andre’Rouèche radioed me forty minutes ago and told me that Robert f. Dubinsky aka Albert Kandinsky was observed entering the village’s church,” Fredric proclaimed.
Dennis abruptly withdrew his 357 Magnum handgun and Craig extracted his Smith and Wesson pistol.
Craig shook his head and chuckled as he cast his blue eyes on his partner’s gun.
“What?” Dennis inquired. “At least with my gun I can hit a guy fifty feet away.”
“Yeah, sure,” Craig chuckled, “but there wouldn’t be much left of the poor bastard for Doctor Brown to the examine.”
Agent Gregorian seemed nervous as he stared dishearteningly at the two FBI agents with two of the most powerfully hands in the world already cocked and loaded.
“Sir pleases; I don’t want to be known as the DST agent that allowed two FBI agents to kill a French citizen by mistake”
Dennis and Craig looked at each other, shrugged then reluctantly placed their guns back into their holsters.
“Follow me,” Fredric Gregorian demanded as he lead them down a side street toward the center of the village.
Agent Gregorian slowly approached the village green and pointed at a black Cadillac parked nearby. “That car belong to your suspect Robert Dubinsky. The car parked in front of the church belongs to a DST agent.”
A confused look quick crossed Dennis’s face as he stared at the blue car and said, “I don’t see anyone in the car; we need to get closer.”
The agents converged on the car like cats approaching their prey. Craig became more suspicious the closer they get to the car.
Fredric worst fears were horribly realized when they saw a DST agent slumped in the front seat. Dennis checked, the agent for a pulse and whispered, “He is alive, but barely.”
“What happen to the DST Agent?” Fredric insisted.
“It looks as if he was placed in stranglehold till he was unconscious. Our suspects must be close by,” Dennis said.
Agent Gregorian turned towards the church and saw a suspicious large man standing just outside the front door. “That is the terrorist we are looking for,” agent Gregorian stated as he glanced at the photo of the suspect.
“Let’s go,” Craig demanded in a stern voice.
“Stop Craig. You can’t just shoot this guy in board daylight with all these people around. We need to find his boss Martinez,” said Dennis.
“I will go,” Craig quickly volunteered.
“No,” Dennis insisted. “Let agent Gregorian do it.”
Dennis pulled out a cigarette and handed it to Fredric and said, “Just walk up to the suspect and ask him for a light.”
The agent took the cigarette and uttered, “Then what do I do?”
Dennis smiled. “If he is our man, signal us by touching your nose with your finger. We will take care of the suspect ourselves.”
“Okay, but please don't kill any French citizens, it wouldn’t go over well with the international press.” The Frenchman stood up and casually walked towards the church.
Dennis and Craig pullout out their weapons and hid behind a car.
Fredric slowly swaggered across the street and onto the town's green.
Craig’s hands started to sweat as he waited anxiously for Fredric to slowly walk towards the church.
“Relax,” Dennis scolded Craig. “This will work.”
Fredric walked without a care in the world as he approached the large man. As he got closer, he noticed that the suspect has a large scar over this left eye. Anxiety grumbled in his belly as he continued with his little charade. Fredric casually pulled out a cigarette from his jacket and looked directly into the suspect’s face.
“Vous avez du feu?” said the DST agent. The suspect was obviously very suspicious of agent Gregorian, but lit the cigarette anyway. “Oh quelle belle Léger que vous avez, c'est que l'allemand,” Fredric committed about the suspect’s large metal lighter. Suddenly the suspect pushed Fredric to the ground. Trepidation quickly erupted in Fredric’s heart as the terrorist pulled out his Glock and pointed it at his head.
Fredric continued to play his role as an innocent villager. “C'est quoi CE bordel, je voulais juste une lumière?”
Fredric thought he was going to die when he heard the first gun shoot. He soon realized that the bullets that hurled over his head came from Dennis’s 357 magnum pistol.
The suspect and the FBI exchange gunfire as Frédéric scrabbled behind a large oak tree.
Fredric’s heart was filled with a plethora of emotions as Father Gregory Mansion emerged from the church with a Lugar pistol pointed at his head.
“Haut, police Française,” Freddy screamed over the gunfire. Fredric’s hands shook as he aimed his gun at my head. Albert saved my life again as he leapt in front of a bullet from Fredric’s gun. The bullet missed me and hit Albert's left arm. Albert discharged several bullets towards agent Gregorian as father Mansion and I climbed into my black Cadillac. Hastily Albert discharged another bullet into the DST agent’s arm as he climbed into the car.
Dennis and Craig refilled their weapons as they ran toward the church. The wheels on Kandinsky’s Cadillac screeched as he tried to run over agent Holloway and Peterson. A barrage of bullet hit the Cadillac as it screeched out of sight.
Craig and Dennis finally caught up with Fredric and carry him back to their car. “Let me look at that,” Dennis demanded.
“That’s okay” agent Gregorian said. “It's just a scrap.” Gilt plagued Fredric’s heart as he berated himself for missing his chance to catch Albert’s boss.
Dennis pulled out two cigarettes, lit them and passed one to Fredric and said, “Who was that man in the wheelchair exiting the front of the church?
“That guy in the wheelchair was your terrorist named Martinez and the large man standing in front of the church was Robert Dubinsky," Gregorian said.
“You saw Martinez’s face?” Dennis demanded.
Fredric took another drag and slowly exhaled and said, “Yes, but Martinez face was burnt and scared.”
“We got to call your boss Andre and have him track Martinez,” Dennis insisted
Dennis looked inside the car to see that the radio was shot to pieces. “Well, that’s just great. Now we have to run back to our car and radio Andre’ Rouèche. Hopefully Andre will be able to stop Martinez and Dubinsky at the airport before they leaves the country,” Dennis insisted.