Page 29 of The 9th Man

“You think we’re good?” Jillian asked.

“We can only hope.”

Another hour’s worth of driving south brought them to the outskirts of Luxembourg City. With them came rain. Clouds had been building for the past forty-five minutes and now, as the city’s skyline came into view, rain began stippling the windshield. The wipers came on and thump-swished over the glass in a soothing rhythm.

Luke had visited Luxembourg City once before on assignment. From a population standpoint it wasn’t a large place, about 130,000 people, many of whom were high-income expatriates from around the world there to take advantage of loose financial laws and loads of privacy. The city’s layout was intricate, spread across rolling lush hills and astride the confluence of two grand rivers. It felt more like an intertwined series of medieval villages connected by fortification walls, arches, elevated winding roads, and exquisite stonework bridges. It served as one of the de facto capitals of the European Union, along with Brussels, Frankfurt, and Strasbourg, hosting several EU agencies and governing bodies.

Jillian lowered her window and sampled the outside air. “Is there a better smell in the world than spring rain?”

“Not that I’ve found. Though freshly mowed grass is a close runner-up.”

He could see she was bothered, and her quiet for the past half hour only confirmed something was on her mind.

“What is it?” he asked.

She faced him. “Who said there was anything?”

“Your silence.”

She smiled and raised the window. “If I hadn’t dug around, he’d still be alive.”

“Until the cancer killed him. At this point, we don’t know anything. Let’s focus on what’s in front of us and not speculate on what might have been.”

While it seemed likely her email query about Kronos had triggered the attack on Benji’s home, he suspected this ball had started rolling a long time ago.

The rifle.

That had seemed important to the Israeli last night.

A rifle Benjamin Stein supposedly possessed.

Whether intentionally or through happenstance, Stein had gotten himself mixed up in something bad and the consequences had finally landed on his doorstep. Had Jillian pointed the way? Maybe. Which was probably why guilt was getting the best of her.

So he tried to take her mind off it and asked, “Do you know our route?”

She found her phone and checked the map app. For the next ten minutes she guided him through the city center before directing him to turn onto the 53A toward the outskirts of town.

“You do know that coming through Luxembourg City wasn’t the fastest route,” she said, tracing a fingertip over her phone’s screen. “We could’ve bypassed the city altogether.”

“Twists and turns make it easier to spot anybody tailing us.”

She turned and stared out the back window. “Is there?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. And I’ve been looking.”

“I was hoping for a resounding no.”

He smiled. “No such thing.”

“You really are getting into this spy business, aren’t you?”

He agreed with Malone. They weren’t spies. They were intelligence officers. Field agents. Eyes and ears on the ground. There to investigate, analyze, and report. Only if a field officer began to operate clandestinely with the enemy, interacting, subject to arrest, detention, even torture or death, did they become a spy.

“I think I found something I’m pretty good at,” he said.

“That’s really good to hear.”

He liked that she cared. Was he still attracted to her? Who wouldn’t be? She was smart, assured, and beautiful. Did he have feelings toward her? That was harder to answer. All he knew for sure was that he wanted her to be happy.