hostiles alone.
'One moment.'
David waited for the transfer. If he had given a different word, it would have meant he was under duress, either captured or that he just couldn't talk freely. If a word was given that didn't match any of the codes for the mission, the connection would be broken, and an immediate trace would be put out to discover where the call was placed from and who had done it.
He heard a slight click. 'This is Primary. Report everything that occurred after the hospital.'
He kept it short, turning his back to the store clerk and keeping his voice low. 'After leaving the hospital in an acquired car, subject and I proceeded north-northeast. My wounds, which the subject field-dressed, caused me to pass out for a short time, during which she discarded my cell phone. We reached the town of Valenciennes, where she eluded me and has now left the city. I'm requesting backup to continue to her target city and apprehend her.'
'You're injured, and therefore not fully capable of continuing the mission. Procedure mandates that you be deactivated and called in,' the voice told him.
David gritted his teeth at the standard plan, but kept his voice calm as he replied. 'Primary, I'm the only one on our side who knows what she looks like, or her name, for that matter. Also, I'm the only one who knows where she's going at the moment — well, except for the hostiles.'
'Her name is Margaret Britaine, but no doubt you already knew that. Are you attempting to blackmail me into letting you continue this mission?' Rather than sounding angry, David thought he detected a faint note of humor in the woman's voice, and tried to play to it.
'With respect, Primary, I prefer to think of it as laying out the reasons why I should continue the mission, even if it is in an advisory capacity.'
'And?'
David frowned. 'I'm sorry?'
'You have another reason for wanting to continue.'
Revenge? David shook his head. 'It's not what you think. This target is so important to this other team that they are willing to kill anyone who gets in their way — including the rest of my team. I want to know she's out of their hands myself, not be stuck back at HQ watching while she lives or dies.'
'I can understand that. You're not personally involved with this subject, are you, M-Two?'
'Primary, the only thing I'm involved with at the moment is completing my mission, not just for myself, but for my team, as well. I don't want them to go out with a failure on the books.'
'An admirable sentiment — that has absolutely no place in clandestine operations. However, your other mission-oriented points are valid. A team should be arriving to pick you up in the next three minutes. You will follow the leader's directions to the letter. Is that understood?'
'Affirmative, Primary.'
'Get her back, M-Two. Good luck.' With that sign-off, the connection was broken.
David hung up the phone, thanked the clerk and walked outside to wait for his pickup. He settled on a bench and idly watched people go by, coming in and out of the store, laughing chattering, living their lives, with no idea what he did to keep them safe, to let them live their lives without worry, without fear.
And now my team is gone, he thought. David knew he couldn't allow himself the luxury of wallowing in guilt at the moment. He couldn't even blame himself for Kanelo's or Cody's death. Both of them had been beyond his control. But Tara's, that had been another matter entirely.
Looking back, he knew he hadn't had a choice. If he had shot the man holding her, David would have been shot himself, and Tara would have died right after him anyway. His only chance had been to take out his own attacker, then shoot hers, except that he hadn't been fast enough. And now he never would be.
Feeling his anger growing, David took a few calming breaths just as a dark gray Range Rover pulled up in front of him. Its windshield and windows were tinted to obscure whomever was inside. The driver's door opened, and a man got out and walked up to sit next to him. He looked to be in his early fifties, with salt-and-pepper hair cropped close to his scalp, and pale blue hooded eyes that regarded him from under a heavy brow. He was dressed casually, in khakis, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and casual leather slip-on shoes. David was also sure he was ex-military, and even with a quarter century on him, David was pretty sure he wouldn't want to tangle with the guy — he looked as if he knew all the tricks, and wouldn't hesitate to use anything in his bag when necessary.
'Excuse me. My brothers and I are traveling to Paris, and we're wondering if there was a quicker way to get there besides the highway?' His voice was quiet and precise, with a slight, guttural German accent stressing the vowels.
David made sure he was in control of himself before he replied. 'Besides the high-speed train, a car is the best mode of transportation to get to the City of Lights.'
The man extended his hand. 'For now, you can call me Jay. How are you, Mr. Vert?'
David smiled at the play on words — his cover name was the French word for 'green.' 'I've been better, Jay. I'm missing something very important to me. Are you here to help me get it back?'
'That's exactly what we're here for. Come on, we can fill each other in on the way.'
David rose and walked slowly to the SUV, feeling his injuries flare with each step. He was grateful for the sweatshirt he had forced himself into. It would hide his wounds quite well, as long as neither of them reopened in the next couple of hours. As he approached the vehicle, the front passenger's door opened, and a man with coal- black hair, swarthy skin and a gleaming white smile slipped out, gesturing to the front seat with a flourish. 'My name is Julio. Please, Mr. Vert, you and Jay will want to talk more, I'm sure.'
'Thanks.' David got into the seat and closed the door, trying not to sigh with relief as he sank into the butter- soft leather. Julio got in the back, sitting next to another man, this one a nondescript Caucasian with a buzz cut and deep brown eyes who looked far too young to be in this line of work. Julio introduced him as Fritz.
Jay slid behind the wheel, started the Range Rover up, and pulled out of the parking lot. 'Where's she headed?' he asked immediately.
'I'm sure she's going to Brussels. It's the nearest large city with a transportation hub. There's a bug in her car, from the other team, that I left inside the vehicle for our use.'
'Good. Julio, see what you can find on the standard frequencies. Of course, since we know the make and model of her car, we can also use the GPS tracking unit on it, as well.'
David turned away so his flush wouldn't be as noticeable; he should have thought of that. 'I thought they'd send someone from Paris to handle this.'
'You haven't heard, then?' Jay continued as David frowned. 'All activity at the Paris bureau has been halted pending an investigation of the incident earlier today. It seems that the backup operatives for your team were incapacitated at the station before the firefight broke out. That, and how the situation escalated, is going to cause some harsh questions up and down the line before this is all over.'
'Are the operatives all right?' David asked.
'They're fine, but there were several civilians injured or killed in the standoff between the police and one of the hostile team members. Apparently he killed himself rather than be taken alive.'
David nodded. 'We didn't have any choice…'
Jay held up his hand. 'At this point, I don't really care what happened back there. My goal — and yours, too — is to get the subject back in our control before they find her again. Put all the second-guessing and evaluation away. There will be plenty of time for it later. Now, tell me everything you know about our target, followed by everything you know about the hostiles.'
David took a moment, mentally gathering what scattered bits of information he had observed over the past twelve hours, and started talking. 'The woman's name is Maggie — Margaret Britaine. She's a data thief…'
As he spoke, he felt the man known as Jay absorbing every word he said, measuring it, sifting his comments for the useful data and discarding the rest. I only hope this helps us when the time comes, he thought as he told them everything he knew about her and the men they were almost sure to be going up against.
37
