Page 35 of Thorn

Honey let out a whistle. “That didn’t make him curious?”

“He realized they were foreigners,” Nutsbe said. “He thought maybe this was the normal amount that it would cost wherever they’d come from.”

“And where did he think they were from?” Thorn asked.

“He said they had Eastern block accents. Their French was basic. At any rate, he went to his car and got his spare, took it back, and that’s when he heard his car engine roar. Someone was flooring the gas pedal and spraying mud out the back, then the car took off.”

“Juliette for the win!” Gage said.

“An interesting detail is that we can’t find a driver’s license in the United States for a Juliette Dubois,” Lynx said.

Gage leaned forward. “She didn’t happen to drive to the nearest police station and ask for help did she?”

“There’s no new information about where she went,” Nutsbe said. “Certainly not the police. Noteworthy, Juliette might have been chemically restrained. The car’s owner indicated that she was swerving over the road as if she were drunk. No accidents have been reported.”

“Brigitte said strawberries. That means injured according to Margot,” Thorn pointed out. “Is Margot around?”

“She’s in a meeting,” Nutsbe said.

Thorn nodded. “Okay. When she’s free can you ask if ‘strawberries’ could mean medicinally restrained?”

“I’ll text her now.” Lynx reached for her phone.

“Wait,” Gage said. “This good Samaritan is standing by the side of the road with the two kidnappers and calls the police because his car was stolen. The kidnapper’s car is on a jack. Did the police get there in time to question these guys? What did they say about the situation?”

“There was construction a couple of kilometers south of them on the highway that locked up the cops,” Nutsbe responded without looking up. “By the time they got there, the kidnappers had replaced their tire and had taken off after Juliette.”

“Wait. Do we know this was actually the kidnappers, and we’re not following a false lead? They have evidence it was the same car that was used to take Juliette?” Thorn asked.

“The Samaritan described the same car that was in the video and was able to remember three of the license plates digits. So it’s looking good for a positive ID. All right, here we go. Here are the new assignments…” Nutsbe paused as his fingers flew over his key board.

The three operatives waited patiently.

“Okay.” Nutsbe focused on Thorn. “Tight time schedule.”

“Wait. Margot just texted back.” Lynx lifted her phone and waggled it, then brought it closer to read. “‘Strawberries can be any physical issue that makes the mark vulnerable. Typically, this means they’re wounded. We don’t have a code between Brigitte and I to specifically indicate someone’s been drugged.’”

“Copy,” the men said together.

“I have two taxis headed to your location,” Nutsbe said. “Thorn, you have a flight to Toulouse. I’m sending your ticketing information to your phone. Let’s hope there’s a flight delay so you can make it in time. Lynx will be posting files for you to review on your flight, so you can catch up with our intel. Grab your gear and go.”

“Roger.” Thorn leapt from his chair and moved toward the door, grabbing up his bag. As he left, he heard Nutsbe telling Honey and Gage that they were going to meet the client at the airport and be security as the client flies DuBois home. “Note, he is going home against his wishes.”

Before anything else was said, Thorn had shut the door and was jogging toward the elevator.

***

The flight attendant pulled the door closed as Thorn made his way down the aisle. He was the last passenger on board. Belted into his first-class seat, Thorn was alone in his row. He knew that Nutsbe would have purchased both seats, so he could safely read the files that were waiting for him in the secured folder. Thorn downloaded them so he could go over the intel while his phone was set to airplane mode.

The flight attendant stood with her hand on the back of the empty chair on the aisle. “Can I get you anything to drink, monsieur?”

“Just some water, thanks.” He offered up a smile.

The flight would take an hour and forty minutes, but the pilot was announcing a tail wind that might get them there twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Thorn hoped that was true. He didn’t want to knock on people’s doors any later than he had to. He would. He’d drag people out of bed if needs be. But it always went better when you showed up at a more mannerly time of day − and this would get him on site at the hair’s edge of polite.

Thorn looked at the address Nutsbe had forwarded. The notes said these were the GPS coordinates for where the child had stood. Plugging it into the mapping app, Thorn thought if he could snag a taxi right away, things might just work out. The house was only a fifteen-minute drive from the terminal.

He tapped his phone to airplane mode as they took off, then closed his eyes for a moment to review all that had gone on that day, to look for small details that might need his focus. What he landed on was the fact that DuBois hadn’t mentioned his daughter’s well-being, he didn’t want to fly back to the United States, and he had not only been fighting against them from the time when Thorn had pulled the janitor’s gun out from under the scientist’s ribs, but had been communicating with the Omega team. And the Omega Team was working, he believed, on a Russian contract.

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