Page 9 of Explosive Vengeance

Heath’s phone dinged with an incoming message two seconds later. He glanced at the screen. “I see her.” A good-looking blonde with a serious expression and big brown eyes gazed back at him. Late twenties or early thirties, maybe.

Dammit. Ty knew his weakness—that Heath was a sucker for a woman in distress and wouldn’t be able to turn away.

“Her name’s Chloe Wilson, and she’s leaving Paris on that train in under an hour. Can you get there in time and follow her?”

Heath shoved out a breath. Did he really want to get involved in whatever this was? It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, but how could he do that when Ty had saved his ass not four months ago when that sniper in Afghanistan had a bead on him? If not for Ty, he’d have died up on that mountain ridge. Besides, it sounded like this girl was in trouble. “I assume there’s a reason you can’t just involve the cops?”

“Yes. Will you do it?”

You can’t refuse. You owe him. You owe him huge.

Heath rubbed a hand over his face. This was not how he’d seen the rest of his night going, but he wasn’t going to turn Ty down or leave a woman in trouble out there on her own. Ty could have guilted him into it, but hadn’t. “All right. I’ll try to catch her in time.”

Ty’s relieved sigh filled the line. “Thanks, man. I’ll send you the station and train details. When you get to Strasbourg, if there are any other updates, contact me at this number. As soon as she stops moving, we’ll fly over to meet you to take over.”

“And then you’ll read me in on what’s going on?”

“Absolutely. We’ll catch up. I really want you to meet Megan.”

Ty had even asked Heath to be his best man when he and Megan tied the knot. That was some crazy shit right there, Ty talking marriage when they’d only been together a couple months. Heath wanted to meet this girl. “All right.”

Even though he had a not-so-great feeling about all this, he got his ass off the couch and hurried to his room to pack a backpack. “I’m not armed.” He hadn’t thought he’d need to be on this trip, and getting a concealed carry permit here wasn’t easy. Pepper spray didn’t cut it when shit went south.

“Understood, and I don’t think it’ll be an issue. We just need you to watch and follow her. I’ll reimburse you for expenses when I see you.”

“Whatever, man, I’m not gonna take your money.” Not from the guy who’d saved his life. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Ty was silent a second. “Don’t get too close, and don’t let her know you’re following her. If she’s spooked, she’ll disappear. Like, gone. But keep her safe. It’s important.”

He was getting that. “Okay, I copy.”

“Good luck. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Yeah.” Heath ended the call and frowned at the phone. Good luck? Did he need it?

A moment later a message popped up on his phone, giving the train station and platform info. It was halfway across the city from him, so he’d better haul ass if he was going to make it.

He slid his phone into his pocket and hurriedly packed the rest of what he needed, mentally shifting gears to get in the right head space. So his holiday was being cut short. He’d wanted to see more of France anyway, and this way he’d be helping out his friend and the mystery girl in potential danger Ty was so concerned about.

But as soon as Heath saw his buddy, he was going to find out exactly what the hell was going on here.

****

Chewing a stick of her favorite spearmint gum, Chloe slouched down in her train seat and tugged the brim of the ball cap down lower on her forehead as she darted a glance across the aisle. The train had left the station in Paris twenty minutes ago and she’d been on full alert every second since, even though it didn’t look like it.

She could have rented a car and driven out of Paris, but she’d opted for the train because of speed and to vary her means of transportation so as not to follow a certain pattern that would make her easier to catch. A trade-off: increased risk balanced out by speed. It was a two-hour trip to Strasbourg. Given what she’d just done and who she’d just killed, she couldn’t put Paris behind her fast enough.

Her face was completely bare now, not a drop of makeup on. She was dressed ultra-casually in a pair of stretchy black leggings and a long, cozy grey tunic with a coat over top, her ponytail threaded through the hole in the back of the cap. The backpack with the Canadian flag patch at her feet added to her appearance—just another unthreatening tourist trekking her way through France.

The cap not only shadowed her face and concealed her ears, making it harder for anyone to recognize her in surveillance video, it also hid her eye movements from anyone watching.

And at least one person on this train was definitely watching.

He was seated across the aisle, two seats ahead, facing her. A good-looking, clean-cut guy with short, dark brown hair and a nice body. At the moment he was reading a magazine printed in English. His bearing, body language and watchfulness spoke of either military or law enforcement background, and that put her instantly on alert.

She’d spotted him on the platform just a few minutes prior to boarding. Their eyes had met briefly—his were a bright, piercing blue—before he’d looked away. Several times after that he’d glanced at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.

At first, she’d wondered if he was here to arrest her. Then she’d wondered if he was actually harmless and might be thinking about hitting on her. But after they’d boarded, he’d walked past her to his seat without a word. He was still paying attention to her now, although he was being subtle about it. It put her on edge.

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