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We stayed around Vic, forming a wall around her that didn’t allow anyone to get a glimpse of who she was. The women might’ve been sworn to secrecy, but the last thing I wanted was for any of the guys to be passing along who they’d seen at the brothel. There was a good chance some of these wealthy European guys all ran in the same circles as Jurgen.
The women led us to a pair of adjacent rooms, the spaces decked out in red sheets and mood lighting— obviously designed for one intention in mind. Kid was doing a bit better, but all the same, we helped him onto one of the beds. The women brought us some food consisting of meat and cheese plates along with fresh bread and wine. The adrenaline was wearing off at that point, and the food looked like the best thing imaginable. We ate and drank, trying to enjoy the relief of Kid being OK, and that, for the moment at least, we were somewhere safe and sound.2
It wasn’t long before Kid fell asleep, his belly full. We gave Vic the other room to herself, wanting to give her a little space to sort through whatever was going on in her head.
“She doing alright?” Pyke asked.
“Girl just lived through her first firefight,” Hud said. “Can’t even imagine what she’s feeling.”
“Come on,” I replied. “You all telling me you don’t remember the first time you were in the shit? It’s like a damn bad dream. And that’s coming from someone who’s trained in how to fight.”
I sighed, shaking my head. The operation was a mess. But the important thing was that we’d gotten Victoria out safe and sound.
“We need to figure out our next step,” Pyke said. “We can’t just zip around rural France forever.”
He was right. “For now, we need two things—safety and intel. And I’ve got a feeling that we’re not going to get either until we’re well clear of this place.” I considered the matter for a long moment. “Let me check my email. I’ll see what I can find, see if we’ve gotten any new information, then we can reconvene and figure out our next step.”
The guys agreed, and I was off. I headed outside, grabbed the bag with my gear, and returned to the brothel. Back inside, I found a small café area with tables and space to set up. I pulled out my laptop and checked my email.
Sure enough, there was an email from my German contact. I read it with eager eyes, learning that, as of that morning, Jurgen was on the move once more, finally popping his head up and making himself known. I checked the time of the email, seeing that it came a couple of hours ago. That information, coupled with what we had endured earlier that morning, was enough for me to put together an idea of what might’ve happened.
The guys Jurgen had hired were rank amateurs, there was no doubt about that. I had no idea why a billionaire would waste his money on guys like that, but so much the better. He must’ve gotten word that the mission had failed and panicked, frantically trying to figure out his next step. The fact that he was unnerved was good and bad—good because it meant that we’d thwarted his plans. Bad because it meant he might do something stupid and reckless out of desperation.
I considered my options, trying to figure out what’d make the most sense as our next step. Right in the middle of thinking it over, another email arrived—this one from my brother Bryan.
My heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. Bryan was my younger brother, currently in the Army and stationed at Fort Devens, just outside of Boston. I’d given him my private, encrypted email account a few years back with one rule—only hit me up on it if it’s a serious matter.
I clicked and read. It was serious, alright. Bryan’s wife Megan, who was pregnant, was having issues during her third trimester of the pregnancy. She’d been getting sick, needing to be in and out of the hospital. She was only seven months along, but the doctors were thinking it was possible that the baby could arrive at any time. He wanted to know if I were able to come and be with him so that he didn’t have to go through it alone.
Bryan and I loved each other like crazy. All the same, we were fiercely independent sorts of guys. Bryan asking for me to be there was no small thing—it meant he was having a really rough go of it.
I closed my laptop, not feeling good about this news at all. I loved my line of work, but one of the few things I didn’t like about it was how it could sometimes cut me off from the world like this. Bryan was my only family and knowing I couldn’t be there for him in his hour of need hurt like nothing else.
Then a thought occurred to me. We needed a place to go, and my brother needed me.
At first, it seemed crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made that we take a flight overseas and hang out for a bit, at least until the heat died down. No doubt in my mind that the king would hate it, but that didn’t matter. Our job was to keep Vic safe no matter what, and that’s what we were going to do.
I closed the laptop and headed back upstairs, ready to inform the guys of my idea.
23
HUD
“You can’t be serious, lad!”
Ajax stood at the entrance to the room, hands on his hips. Part of me had thought he’d been busting our balls when he’d come in to tell us that he wanted to fly to America. The longer he stood there, however, with that serious expression on his face, the more I realized that he wasn’t playing around.
He shut the door and stepped inside.
“I’m serious. Hear me out.” He grabbed the small wooden chair from the desk next to the door, spun it around, and eased into it. “Right now, Jurgen—wherever he is—is realizing that his attack was a total wash. He’s got billions to throw around, and there’s no doubt in my mind that, whatever he’s got planned next, he’s playing for keeps.”
“We need to get out of Europe, and the states are the safest place to be. I own a townhouse on the outskirts of Boston. We can hide out there for a little while and figure out our next step. It’s a great idea.”
Before he could say anything else, a groan sounded out from the corner of the room. We turned to see Kid there, laying on the bed fast asleep. Though he was sleeping, the pain was still bothering him.
“Kid needs some rest,” Pyke said. “Probably another couple of days before we can move him. Whatever we end up doing, it’s going to have to wait until then.”
Ajax formed a flat line with his mouth, giving the matter some thought.
