Page 18 of Wired Target

“Well, then, we should do it,” Sophie said.“If Armita’s agreeable to me being gone overnight, I’ll come over.I’ll text you as soon as I know.”

“Thanks so much.”

“And maybe by then I’ll know something more.We’ve got several lures in the water, as the fishermen say.”

“Good.I’ll wait to hear from you, then, and set up a tentative meet with the conservation group,” Lei said.“Talk soon,sistah!”

10

Day 4

Raveaux sat in the small, luxuriously appointed private lounge that was a part of the private air flight area of Honolulu International Airport.The Security Solutions company jet was already fueled, provisioned, and the crew were on board, but Raveaux still awaited the arrival of the two Thai operatives from the Yam Khûmk?n—Sam and Rab, that he had worked with when last pursuing Pim Wat.

Raveaux sat back in a leather recliner with a moveable work desk pulled across his lap.Opening his laptop, he reviewed the information Connor had forwarded, little as it was: a petite female of Pim Wat’s size and build had been spotted leaving the crime scene where a prominent Balinese businessman suspected of having ties to drug smuggling had been murdered.The information had come to Raveaux in an encrypted file, a series of news clippings translated from law enforcement communiques, and one very generic news item.

The only pictures included were the police photos of the crime scene, which told him that the man had been executed with three small caliber shots: one to the head, two to the heart.Clearly a pro had done it, but was the assassin Pim Wat?

“It’s not enough,” Pierre muttered aloud.

This lead was too little information for which to go all the way to Bali with any real hope of a break in the hunt.The victim was Balinese, which meant local authorities would be all over it.Raveaux and the ninjas, as outsiders, would stand out: none of them knew the language, customs, nor did they have any contacts on Bali besides the CIA.

They were bound to draw attention in a negative way by poking around.

If the assassin was Pim Wat, she would have done the job and left—unless Bali was her new base of operations, which it might be.But in that case, she’d be a fool to draw heat in her new hometown, and Pim Wat was no fool.

No.

Raveaux wasn’t going to go to Bali.

He’d take his crew and the jet to a place where he knew the rules, both written and unwritten—where he spoke the language and was a native with the advantage of connections and familiarity.He’d go where Pim Wat’s boss, Enrique Mendoza, lived.

Paris.

Raveaux wasn’t Connor’s lackey to be ordered around the globe on a whim.He was an experienced investigator who knew how to get results.After all, he’d been the one to solve the mystery of Pim Wat’s disappearance the last time that slippery witch made her escape.

Connor would thank him later when the job was done.

Raveaux closed the laptop decisively, flipped up the foldable desk, and got up from the lounger.He slid the computer into his familiar leather satchel, tucked his latest Reacher novel into the capacious pocket of his jacket, and headed out through the glare-resistant glass doors onto the tarmac.He was on his way to redirect the Security Solutions pilot to a new destination.

Sam and Rab, ninjas with the Yam Khûmk?n, greeted Raveaux an hour later at the base of the movable stairs leading up to the jet’s entrance.

“Bonjour, Pier.”Rab greeted Pierre with the shorthand name they’d come up with the last time the three men met.Sam, who only spoke Thai, nodded.

“Bonjour, Rab, Sam.Come on up, and I’ll bring you up to speed.”

“Speed?”Rab cocked his head.

“Sorry—meaning that I’ll brief you on a change of plans.”

Rab nodded and translated for Sam.The two followed as Raveaux ascended the steps onto the jet.Each carried a duffel and a heavy-looking metal case; these were likely chock-full of weapons—a good reason to fly private.

Both Thai men wore their usual head-to-toe black, but their clothing was appropriate for the new destination—pants and long-sleeved shirts, rather than the martial arts outfits they normally favored.Raveaux took a seat and waited until Rab and Sam had stowed their gear in the storage areas.

The Learjet was equipped with comfortable, reclinable leather seats facing each other across from a stationary coffee table.Rab sat across from Raveaux, settling himself.Light streaming in through the jet’s round porthole highlighted silver in the stubble of his closely shorn head, but only that and a few crinkles beside intelligent dark eyes betrayed the fact that Rab was older than his partner.Both men carried themselves with an air of calm confidence.

The co-pilot stuck his head out from the cabin.“We’re cleared for the new flight plan.Taking off in five.”

“Merci,” Raveaux said, engaging his belt.He leaned forward to address the two operatives.“Remember the man you tracked who directs Pim Wat?We will be capturing him and extracting her location from him.We’re going to Paris instead of Bali.”

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