Chapter 10

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Chapter 10Once in the apartment, Khalid went to his bedroom and closed the door without a word. Talya sat on the floor in front of the fireplace. She then went to her bedroom, changed into a dark pair of slacks and shirt, flat shoes, and threw a jacket over her shoulders – August nights are chilly in Paris. A few minutes later, Talya was out of the hotel. I decided to follow her. Obviously, she wanted to be alone. Osnoir had been her first target, but since the beginning, Talya must have known there was someone else pulling the strings, and I could sense that she wanted me dead – not just arrested – but dying in front of her eyes, and of the kind of pain I had inflicted onto her friends. Hassan had been knifed six weeks ago. He had been recovering slowly only to be shot. She evidently couldn’t accept his passing. She needed time. Khalid, for his part, had decided not to go to Florida – that was clear. He didn’t want any part of this chase. She hailed a cab and asked the driver to take her to Charles de Gaulle’s airport. It was eleven o’clock and there were not many flights going in any direction that night. I grabbed the next taxi in line. When I reached CDG, I spotted her standing in front the British Airways counter. What was she thinking? That airline only goes to London in the evenings. I was right behind her when I heard her buying a ticket for the British capital. I did the same. The only appropriate word to describe Charles de Gaulle’s airport, is ‘spherical’. It had been built when the atoms and their elements were the wonders of the mere mortals. Bubbles made up the passengers’ lounges, accessible by escalators encased in long tubes going to the various departure levels. At seeing her diplomatic passport, the custom’s officer just smiled and said, “Have a good trip, ma’am,” as he stamped the next available page. Arriving in London an hour later, Talya went first to look at the departure screen. Again I stood behind her. I couldn’t fathom which would be her choice. However, there was one flight that retain my attention. London – Vancouver leaving at 9:00 am the next day. Would she want to go home? Once she made her choice – at least I thought she did – she went straight to the Airport Hotel and got a room for the rest of the night. Such as in any other airport hotels around the world, the maid service runs twenty-four hours a day and you can be sure to have a room with a comfortable bed ready to meet your sleeping needs anytime. At eight-thirty the next morning, Talya and I were embarking onto a British Airways’ flight destined to arrive in Vancouver nine hours later. She was going home.
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