Dance of the Angels Read Free

slip inside a ventilation shaft.”
    “Your plan sounds great, but then what?”
    “Well, I’ll find a way to get inside and defuse the explosive charges.”
    Tavernier whistled before saying, “That’s dangerous, my man. It’s double or nothing. If you mess up, that fucker Hervet will sideline you for the rest of your days.”
    “I don’t give a damn! He’s clearly not going to put himself out to free those hostages!”
    “Careful, son.”
    With a wave of his hand, Le Goënec summoned Gérard, a twenty-year-old trainee of slender build and determined gaze.
    “It’s a go. Bulldozer has given us a free pass.”
    “Awesome! You can count on me.”
    “But watch out, kid; this ain’t no Spielberg flick.”
    Le Goënec and his young partner made their way to the building adjacent to the bank. They took the elevator to the top floor, then used a ladder to access a transom opening onto the roof.
    “Careful, Gérard, this is serious stuff. Stay behind me!”
    The two policemen climbed out into the open air at the top of the building. The ventilation shaft soon came into view. Le Goënec had to accept the fact that his wrestler’s build would never allow him to squeeze inside.
    “Fuck, I won’t fit!”
    “I think I can.”
    “Out of the question. You’re a newbie. It’s much too dangerous for you to go alone!”
    “We don’t really have any choice.”
    Le Goënec looked at the trainee, sizing up his 115 pounds. The youngster clearly had some guts. He was one of the best recruits the police academy had seen in years.
    With his internal jitter-meter jumping, Le Goënec finally gave the green light.
    “OK, but watch yourself.”
    “Thanks. Just wait and see, sir. You won’t be disappointed!” said Gérard, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
    Five years of rock climbing and mountaineering had prepared him for the most perilous situations. He loved extreme sports.
    With the agility of a contortionist, Gérard slipped inside the mouth of the ventilation shaft and began his vertiginous descent into the bowels of the bank. He moved as though he’d been doing this all his life. It was as hot as a sauna inside the shaft, and the young trainee very soon felt like snow melting in the sun. It was as dark as a mine, too, and his feet probed cautiously to find footholds. Up top, Loïc listened to his colleague’s progress and tried to keep his cool. The kid was now out of sight.
    Biting his nails with anxiety, Tavernier scrutinized the roof from the patio of the shopping mall, but he couldn’t make out anything at all from where he stood.
    After ten minutes of intense effort, Gérard reached the end of a duct that opened up into the bank’s lobby. Out of breath, his lungs on fire, he stayed still for a few seconds. Then he heard voices:
    “If the cops don’t give in, there’ll be a massacre.”
    “Too bad. We warned them!”
    “We can’t chicken out now!”
    Gérard understood that he had very little time to act. A crazy idea came to him. He drew his service weapon with calculated slowness. This was make or break. The young trainee had balls, but he knew he was taking a real risk, and his heart accelerated until it became painful. Leaning back as far as he could, he braced himself, ready to spring like a leopard. With a powerful kick that sent the protective grille flying, he launched his 115 pounds and landed, muscles locked into the shooting position, in the middle of the crooks, who were caught off guard. The first shot from his .357 Magnum turned the first guy’s chest into mush. Before the three others had time to retaliate, Gérard’s still-smoking gun spat a second bullet, which pulverized the head of another gang member.
    The third hostage taker raised his .38 Special, which belched death at the young cop, who only just dodged the bullet as he threw himself behind a counter. A double squeeze on the trigger and the jacketed rounds hit the bull’s-eye, just like at the shooting range. For a few seconds,