The gunshot was not loud. A mere snap of sound. The automatic convulsed once.
"Hah!" she said triumphantly, yanking the beret off her face.
Dominique blinked as the familiar features of the American named Remo stared back at her with a slight smile touching his cruel face.
"But-I could not miss."
"Sure you did."
"Never! I am an expert markswoman."
"Was," said Remo, relieving her of her weapon with a casual twist. He tossed it away.
"You're French, right?"
"Belgian."
"You sound French."
"We Belgians speak French. It is our native tongue."
Remo looked to the tiny Asian gray-beard who stood beside him, hands tucked in his kimono sleeves. "This is true, but this woman speaks the dialect of Paris, not Brussels."
"Caught you. You're French."
"French women do not wear berets," Dominique pointed out.
"Sure they do," said Remo.
"It is an impossibility. How can you be so stupid?"
"Practice," said Remo, handing her back her beret.
"The beret is gauche. Do you know nothing of French customs?"
"As little as possible," Remo admitted.
"I categorically deny French citizenship."
The tiny Asian turned his head, "Behold. Is that not the illustrious Jerry Lewis approaching?"
Dominique whirled.
"Jairy? Jairy is here. Where? I idolize him!"
But there was no one there and when she looked back, the tiny Asian was beaming triumphantly. The man named Remo was saying "tsk- tsk" while making some arcane gesture at her that involved rubbing his forefingers in her direction.
"Caught you again," he said.
"I am a tourist."
"You're a French agent. You have French agent written all over you."
"In French," said the Asian gray-beard.
"I deny everything."
"What's the French interest in this?" asked Remo.
"I refuse to say any more."
"We have ways of making you confess," warned the tiny Asian.
"I am notoriously fearless."
Abruptly the tiny Asian stiffened and said, "Hark!"
Remo stopped.
Dominique listened. "I hear nothing."
"Do you hear it, Remo? The pumping sound."
Dominique frowned. "I hear no pumping."
"Yeah," said Remo. "It's coming from that van."
"Two heartbeats. One human. One not."
"Yeah, and the human one sounds pretty scared."
"Let us investigate."
"Heartbeats. I hear no heartbeats."
"Remo, detain that woman while I investigate."
"Little Father, don't you think we should both-"
"No!"
Remo subsided, Dominique was surprised to see. Was he afraid of the old one? It seemed doubtful.
They watched the old one slip toward the back of the van, Remo holding her in place with steely fingers clamped about her elbow. They felt like blunt knives and, when she reached up to loosen them, they refused to budge.
While his attention was on her fingers, she tried a judo throw that never failed.