Page 38 of Trapped with the Undercover Prince

A stream of uniformed medical people, firefighters, and police entered the safe zone. A cry of welcome and relief erupted from the passengers of their train.

Among the rest of the first responders was a group of men whose uniform differed slightly from the others. Theirs consisted of the same sort of Kevlar vests, reinforced helmets, and weapons as any highly trained military group, but in a gray camo pattern that was unique to Lerasia. A branch of the Lerasian National Guard, though they called themselves the Royal Reapers, since they reported to the royal family and the royal family only.

Their team leader, Nicolas Allard, spotted Zar, and with a word to those behind him, the group moved to surround Zar and his men on the ground.

“Your Highness,” Nicolas said. “Are you injured?”

“I have a cut on my back, but it’s been tended to. Charles, however, needs immediate medical attention, as do Marc and Jean Paul.”

“Where is Jean Paul?” Nicolas asked.

Before Zar could answer, one of the medics crouched down in front of Charles and let out a surprised grunt. “Is that a drinking straw?”

“Yes,” Marc answered. “It was the only thing Dr. Anna had to put in his throat for him to breathe through.”

“Smoke inhalation?”

“Very severe,” Zar said. “But there is a child that needs rescuing, gentlemen. Jean Paul and Dr. Anna are with him now.” He pointed over his shoulder toward the destroyed train. “We’re going to need either heavy equipment or a lot of muscle to get him out.” He led the way.

“How many men did you bring with you, Nicolas?” Zar asked.

“A dozen, sir.”

“This was no accident,” Zar told him in a low voice. “Call in another team. The site needs to be secured and the remains examined in order to discover if there was a bomb placed on the royal car.”

Nicolas stared at him with a grim expression. “The bomb would have had to been placed immediately before the train left the last station, or our detection system would have caught it.”

“Agreed.”

“That means the bomber is probably one of the passengers, and to get that close to the royal car...” He let his voice trail off. It had to be a passenger, a train employee, or one of his people.

“The only people in the car were people I trust completely.”

“Including this Dr. Anna? How well do you know her, sir?”

The cold suspicion in the other man’s voice lit a fire in Zar’s belly. “I know her.” His voice came out on a growl, and he didn’t care. Didn’t care that he sounded furious; he would tolerate no misplaced mistrust aimed at her. “In Lyon, I watched her run into a burning train, her only goal to help whoever she could find. She’s doing it again right now with a child who is buried up to his neck.”

“Your Highness,” Nicolas’s tone was tentative now. “If she’s part of a team...”

“Team? She’s traveling with a single backpack, which Jean Paul searched for hidden compartments, tested for drugs, and x-rayed for recording devices. He also went through her phone while she was sleeping and found nothing more than five versions of solitaire, a reading app, work emails, maps of Europe, her itinerary, and semi-standard tourist photos on it.”

“Semi-standard?”

He waved his hand. “She likes to take pictures of graffiti and posts them to her social media as part of an ongoing discussion of modern art with a number of her friends and extended family.”

“I see,” Nicolas said slowly, his face relaxing into one that seemed relieved, but also not. The man was a worse mother hen than his own mother.

They reached Anna and when she saw him and the men with him a huge smile lit up her face. “Medic!”

Two of the men on his medical team rushed forward at her call.

Nicolas took in the scene and looked at him. “If I ask you to wait in a safe location, you’re going to ignore me, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Zar said in a perfectly polite tone. “I can’t quite make out what you’re saying.”

“You’re already ignoring me.”

“Don’t be daft, Nicolas. I need you to help me get this rail car off of the boy.”

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