The hotel was near both the airport and Planete Sauvage, and they had a taxi drop them off nearby, where they found a bench near a florist shop.

"Why didn't we fly straight here instead of in that boxhole you call a car?"

"Only a few large planes land here, none from Gatwick. And I happen to like my car, thank you."

"It's where you guys get your stiff upper lip." Morrisey couldn't help but enjoy the look his comment brought. "Those creases when you frown are just so darn cute."

"Did I bring a juvenile along with me on this mission?" She directed her attention to the hotel, and suddenly grasped his leg. "Grant's car. Look."

They watched the Mercedes make a slow turn onto the hotel property, then vanish behind the plantings bordering the street. The hotel had the appearance of a large house with extensions, fronted by an unmissable sign. They walked cautiously up the street, hesitating, then entering the main lobby.

"Bonjour et bienvenue. Comment puis-je vous aider?"

"Parles-tu Anglais?"

"Oui - yes. How may I help?"

"A friend of ours arrived in Port-Saint-Père ahead of us and we've been trying to find which hotel he chose." Mallory gave her a happy, helpless look.

"Your friend is English?"

"Uh, no. American actually."

"Ah, oui- yes. Harold Danby?"

Mallory looked to Morrisey, who smiled and nodded. "That's him."

The woman reached for the desk phone and Mallory stayed her hand. "We want to surprise him a little later . . . it's a joke - plaisanterie," She added in French, winking. "If you could give us his room number?"

Back on the street, they walked briskly back to the bench and hailed the first taxi that passed.

"Harold Danby?" Mallory looked at Morrisey.

He laughed. "Yeah, Harold is his aide back home - personal aide, at his house. He'd have a fit if he thought he was registered in a hotel in another country."

They paid the fare and waited until the taxi had gone, then walked the last few blocks to their lodging, Mallory staring at the ground, intent on each step.

"We need a plan to brace Duggan. Some way to upset his plans - permanently."

"That sounds a tad ominous, Mal," he warned, unlocking their room door, and stepping inside.

They both stopped short, stunned and surprised to see Ava seated on the edge of the bed.

"What the hell!" Morrisey spun around to check behind the door, too late, as the butt of the gun cracked his head. He dropped to one knee, eyes squeezed shut against the pain.

"Put him in that chair, Alek."

Mallory was till staring at Ava, too slow to react to what happened, and she felt the vice grip on her wrist as she was tugged down beside her asset.

"So . . ." Felix took up a position directly in front of the women, glaring down as he spoke. "SIS enlisted the aid of my mistress to report on me did they?" His eyes blazed at Mallory.

"I don't know what--"

The slap made her cry out and she fell back on one elbow, tears streaming down her burning cheek. There was another grunt from Morrisey, his intended objection halted with another blow to the jaw.

Felix glared at Ava. "Tell her not to take me for a fool . . . darling."

She sat stone still, eyes downcast, feeling the bed shift as Mallory sat up again.

"I was followed this afternoon." Ava's voice was almost too soft to hear, but loud enough for Mallory to sag inwardly.

"Interesting how all the recent events seem to fall into place." Felix backed away a few steps, the smile sinister. "Very clever, Ms West, but far too elaborate - too many parts to manipulate successfully."

"My only job was to monitor the courier. Nothing else," She held her fingers to her reddening cheek.

"And my lovely Ava here gave you a reason for that, didn't she."

"She was doing as I told her." Morrisey spat, blocking another fist from Alek.

Felix turned to Morrisey, a staying hand to Alek, who was about to give him another crack.

"An American running an SIS agent?"

"I'm not American - and yeah, I run an SIS agent."

"Well, what do you think, Alek, is our mysterious handler telling the truth?" The question was asked in Russian.

"It won't take me long to find out," Alek smirked, replying similarly.

Mallory's fingers crept over Ava's and gave a reassuring squeeze, as they watched the byplay.

"What do you say, Handler, should I let Alek question you?"

"Tell him it'll take longer than he thinks."

"You know Russian!" Felix exclaimed.

"Better than you think."

Felix's features darkened, and Alek moved forward, fist swinging. Morrisey quickly kicked out, catching Alex in the kneecap and sending him hobbling onto the floor. Before Felix could react, Morrisey leapt out of the chair and chopped down on his shoulder, the pain and power of the blow knocking him backward onto the two women.

Amid a flurry of arms and legs, Felix was successfully restrained between them, angry spittle spewing from his mouth. Mallory shouted to Morrisey as Alek rejoined his attack, his arm snaking around Morrisey's neck. The two men spun and staggered about the room, finally crashing through the door, backwards, onto the balcony.

The loud crunch, as Alek's back struck the railing, drew a gasping grunt from the man, and he dropped his arm, spinning about and clutching the railing. Morrisey pulled him back by the scruff of his collar, then ran him forward and tipped him over, watching the flailing body connect with the driveway in a shuddering smack.

He limped back into the room and stopped cold.

"Nicely done, Abraham." Grant stood leisurely by the TV, his gun waving carelessly at the trio on the bed. "Unfortunately, that will probably draw some attention, so I think we should all leave and conduct our business somewhere less conspicuous." He waved them all toward the door. "We'll take Felix's car, it has lots of room. Ava can drive."

                                                       ♟♟♟♟♟

Inside the limo, Felix sat between Mallory and Morrisey, facing grant at the rear of the car. He was keeping his eyes on Ava, with subtle reminders as he gave her directions.

"How did you find us, Grant?" Morrisey asked.

"I saw you when you went to my hotel. You should have checked by phone instead of in person, Abraham. That was poor procedure. I followed you back to yours."

"Just what does this have to do with you?" Felix demanded, his voice low and cold.

"I thought you might have guessed, Felix. Ms West was my asset." Felix snapped a look at Mallory, his brows creased in confusion. "Don't feel badly, Ms West was my cut-out." Grant gave her an icy look.

"Cut-out?"

"It's complicated. By the way, nice job on Ivan, Vladim must be toasting you about now."

Grant called to Ava to make a left, and he leaned sideways to glance out the window. After a moment he gave her another instruction, then the limo coasted to stop.

"Get around here and open the door, Ava." Grant indicated the others to start getting out.

"Where are we?" Morrisey asked, generally.

"It's the perfect place to dispose of problems," Grant smiled, waving the gun. "Down there."

"Les Jardins de l'Acheneau," Ava said quietly. "It is an isolated area on the river."