David got on his phone to check with Primary to see if they had gotten any updated pictures of their target from the St. Pancras cameras. He was aware of the other three team members looking at him, but remained engrossed in what he was doing, not even pausing to look out the window at the beautiful countryside blurring by beneath them.
21
Maggie felt as if she were being shaken apart. Every limb — except her left hand — was flopping about, and she felt a pressure on her shoulder that moved it back and forth, back and forth. Her head throbbed, and her eyes, ears, nose and mouth felt as if she had been dining on cotton balls instead of pasta primavera with a glass of tranquilizer water.
'Hey, are you okay?' someone asked.
She pried her bleary eyes open to see a young blond-haired boy, dressed in a stained T-shirt and shorts, standing on the seat next to her, pushing on her shoulder like he was trying to shove her into the wall of the train compartment.
'All right — all right, I'm awake!' She wrenched her shoulder out from his grubby hands and tried to fend him off with her other hand, but it refused to move from the armrest of the seat. She looked over to see that she was secured to it with a flexible lock-tie, like the kind SWAT teams and police used to subdue their suspects. Seeing it brought back what had happened to her with more chilling clarity. 'Where — where's the man who was sitting across from me?'
'He had to go to the bathroom.' The boy wrinkled his nose. 'He smelled bad.'
'Smelled bad, huh?' Maggie smiled, in spite of how she felt. 'Like poo?'
The boy grinned at the forbidden word and nodded, his head bouncing up and down.
'Jeremy!' A woman, obviously the boy's mother, swooped in like a mother hawk on one of her errant young, grabbing his hand and almost pulling him off the seat in her mingled relief and dismay. 'Miss, I'm terribly sorry if he was bothering you. You are in so much trouble, young man!'
Bothering me? More like saving my life, Maggie thought as her head cleared. 'Actually, your son and I were having a delightful conversation, weren't we?'
He nodded hesitantly, going along with the story now that she wasn't going to turn him in.
The mother, a harried-looking woman with dark circles under her eyes and two other small children in tow, smiled tightly. 'Well, come along, children, back to our seats.'
'Ma'am — there is one thing you could do for me, if you can.' Maggie's voice stopped the woman in her tracks as she was about to herd her brood into the next car.
'Yes?'
'Would you happen to have a nail clipper I might borrow for a moment?'
Puzzlement creased her pinched features, but she rummaged in her purse. 'Um, here.' She held out a pair of child's safety scissors. 'Will these do?'
'I think so.' Maggie bent over and, hiding her actions from view, placed the scissor edge against the armrest and pressed down with all of her strength on the tough plastic tie. For a moment, nothing happened, then the metal blade sunk into the plastic and the restraint began to give. With one final push, she snapped through it. Straightening, she gave the scissors back to the mother while flexing the suddenly tingling fingers on her numb left hand. 'Thank you very much.' The mother raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, just hurried her children through the door.
Maggie winked at Jeremy as he was hustled out of the compartment, then shook her head, trying to clear it. The stuffed-cotton sensation was receding, but she still felt off, as if she were a half second out of step with the rest of the world. She flagged down a passing conductor. 'Sir, how far are we from Paris?'
'We shall be arriving at the station in approximately twenty-five minutes, miss.'
'Thank you.' After he left, she dug the flash drive out from between the two seat cushions, then looked around for her laptop.
Of course he's got it. I wouldn't leave it out in the open, either, she realized. Just to be sure, she checked the top luggage rack, but came up empty. Her carefully crafted plan of hacking into the train's control systems and stopping it in Calais to throw off her pursuers was shot to hell, and now she also had to figure out how to get her laptop back. Although Carlos couldn't get into it, there was every chance that the people back at his headquarters could, and that simply couldn't happen.
Pushing out of the chair, she rose to her feet, nearly falling over as the rush of blood to her head made her world go white for a moment. Leaning against the wall until the feeling passed, she walked unsteadily into the aisle bisecting the rows of seats. Ignoring the odd looks from other passengers, she made her way to the bathroom, which was occupied, with several people waiting impatiently for it. Maggie couldn't decide on whether to wear an innocent or pained expression, so she settled for the pained one as she approached. 'Taking a long time?'
'Bloody git's been in there for more than ten minutes, so yeah, you could say that!' The first man in line, a ruddy-faced Englishman in shorts and a short-sleeved, flower-print shirt, looked as if he was about to kick the door in.
'Oh dear, that's my fiance in there, and I think the meal may not have agreed with him,' she said. 'Perhaps we should get some help — he might have passed out.'
'Hey, here comes someone.' The group, united behind Maggie, stopped a conductor and explained the situation to him. The short, balding and bespectacled man, immaculate in his neat uniform, looked as if they might have asked him to carry a dead squirrel around for the rest of the day when they suggested he open the door. He agreed to knock first and check on the occupant before doing anything else. Stepping up to the door, he rapped on it with his knuckles while glancing up and down the cars as if afraid he would be overheard. 'Sir? Excuse me, sir? Is everything all right?'
After a few seconds, they all heard a strained and weak voice. 'I'm fine…thank you. I just…need a moment…oh, God!' The exclamation was followed by a series of distinctly unhealthy sounds that caused everyone near the door to shy away.
Maggie did her best not to laugh. 'Oh, sir, I'm so worried about him. Can you please open the door?'
The conductor exchanged a stricken look with the Englishman, who appeared ready to take charge. 'Miss, if your fiance says he is fine, then perhaps we should…'
'Oh, my God!' The cry from inside the resfroom snapped everyone to attention.
'Or maybe he needs help before something worse happens.' Maggie frowned and leaned into the conductor, lowering her voice. 'I'd hate for the train company to be held liable because prompt treatment wasn't given to him.'
Those magic words did the trick. 'Very well, I'll open the door, but perhaps it would be best if you examined him first, miss.'
'My, er, pleasure.' She waited for the conductor to produce a small key and unlock the folding door. Not knowing what to expect, Maggie took a deep breath and held it before opening the door. Even so, the smell that wafted out made everyone recoil, stepping back from the offending stench, even though there was no place to hide from it in the vicinity.
Carlos was huddled inside, all his former suavity — along with everything else liquid — drained out of him. His once immaculate wool trousers were now puddled around his ankles, and a fine sheen of sweat gleamed on his brow. He looked up in panic and embarrassment, his eyes widening upon seeing her. 'How did you get free? What do you think you are doing?'
Maggie spotted her laptop case on the floor in front of him. 'Getting this first.' She leaned over and snatched the case off the floor. Carlos tried to lunge for her, but his state of undress, as well as a fresh attack of flatulence, followed by more liquid sounds, forced him to stay on the toilet.
'You did this to me!' he shouted.
'Of course I did. Turnabout is fair play, don't you think?' She slid the door shut saying, 'You'd better stay in there until you're finished, love.'
Carlos frantically waved at the people outside the bathroom. 'Conductor! Conductor! Help me, please! I've been
