Chapter 46
Centre sapeurs et pompiers service d’urgence
Paris
No one responded. Her monitor showed that the call had ended, terminated on the caller’s side. Her monitor also indicated the caller’s number, call duration, and the location of the nearest cellular transmission towers to the handset.
Sophie was still officially a probationer.
She’d joined the sapeurs-pompiers after completing basic training several months earlier.
This was France. Until someone was promoted or a position emptied out, a probationer in the sapeurs-pompiers she would remain.
All the same, she was ambitious and conscientious.
She knew panic when she heard it. And she knew to take the word “terrorist” seriously.
Barely a second had passed before Sophie patched in her superior, Sergeant Diallo. “I have a code one. Paris. Eighth arrondissement.”
Code one was the Emergency Response Grading System’s highest level of alert. It required credible mention of a violent act, past, present, or future.
Sophie replayed the call.
“Run a trace,” said Sergeant Diallo.
“The handset is registered to the Embassy of Qatar. 1 Rue de Tilsitt.”
“Triangulate location,” said Diallo.
“27 Avenue Montaigne. The residence is owned by Tariq bin Nayan bin Tariq al-Sabah.”
“Corroboration with the caller established,” said Diallo. “Call the number back. Try and reestablish communication.”
“No answer,” said Sophie.
“I’ll take it from here,” said Sergeant Diallo. “Good work.”
The call from Sergeant Diallo reached RAID headquarters in Bièvres, Essonne—twelve miles southwest of Paris—at 2:14.
“RAID” stood for “search, assistance, intervention, and deterrence,” and it was the elite tactical unit of the French National Police.
RAID’s primary responsibilities included hostage recovery, protection of VIPs, and counterterrorism.
“Possible attack in progress,” said Diallo, upon reaching the incident commander. He replayed the message, simultaneously transferring it and all accompanying data.
The incident commander listened to the message, ended the call, and immediately punched a button on his console marked brI—PAR.
Security and Intervention Brigade / Paris Prefecture.
He verbally relayed the contents of the call, along with the address and the instructions “Go in hard. We can’t risk anything. Not this weekend.”
Two minutes later, a tactical attack squad rolled out of a complex of buildings in Neuilly. The squad numbered sixteen officers and six vehicles. The officers were armed to the teeth, each carrying a machine gun, a pistol, grenades, and sufficient ammunition to last hours.
“Time to location: twelve minutes.”