by Kaylea Cross
“Watch right…here,” Amber said, freezing the screen on a shot of people standing on the platform. She zoomed in on a woman standing in a long, gray trench, a black knit cap on her head, a blond ponytail trailing down her back. “Recent chatter says this matches the description of the woman seen leaving the victim’s office earlier tonight. And it looks a lot like—”
“Chloe,” Megan breathed, setting her hand on the screen as if she could reach out and touch her old friend. Her throat tightened, and for a second she struggled to control the punch of emotion that hit her. “When was this?”
“A few minutes ago, in a station in central Paris. She bought a ticket to Strasbourg. Train leaves in eighty-one minutes.”
That didn’t give them much time. Certainly not enough to get to Paris before the train left. “How long does it take for the train to get to Strasbourg?”
“Two hours, give or take.”
So, around three-and-a-half hours total. Still not enough to arrange and hop on a private flight to get them there in time. “We’ll have to intercept her in Strasbourg.”
But how? They couldn’t involve the police or any other law enforcement because they didn’t know who was targeting the remaining Valkyries. If only they had someone in Paris they could have step in—
A light bulb lit up in her brain. “I got it!”
Megan dashed from the room before her sister could answer, racing downstairs. She found her boyfriend Tyler in the study having a beer with Jesse and the master of Laidlaw Hall, her dear friend Marcus. All three men looked at her as she burst into the room.
“I need you to call your friend back,” she blurted to Tyler without preamble. “The one you talked to this morning.”
He blinked at her with those sexy slate blue eyes. “What, Heath?”
He was still in Paris for another day or two. “Yes. Right now. Come on.” She grabbed his hand, pulled him out of the chair and dragged him from the room, gesturing for the others to follow. “We think we’ve found Chloe but we need someone to follow her so we don’t lose her. Her train leaves Paris for Strasbourg in a little over an hour. Can you get him to follow her?”
“You want Heath to follow her?” He sounded incredulous.
“Yes.” He and Tyler were pretty much best friends after working together as security contractors in various hotspots and combat zones throughout South Asia, Africa and the Middle East. “It’s our best shot. He’s former AFSOC, so he’s trained—”
“Not for something like this, and it’s not fair to him if I can’t tell him what’s really going on.”
“Tyler, we need him. Plus he’s got some security clearance. And as a former PJ, he cares about helping people. He’s perfect.” She towed him up the stairs to the office where Amber was still working her magic, then turned the puppy dog eyes on him, aware of Jesse entering the room and Marcus’s cane thudding on the floor in the hallway. “We can’t afford to lose her when we’re finally so close, and after this hit she’ll be in even more danger. Please?”
Thankfully Tyler was used to her by now, and he was quick on the uptake. He also knew how hard it was to track a Valkyrie, let alone capture one. If they lost Chloe now, they might not get another shot.
He sighed and turned to her sister. “Amber, show me what you’ve got.”
It took him all of two minutes to get a read on the situation. After briefly discussing it with everyone in the room, he pulled out his phone, then hesitated. “I hate doing this to him,” he said to her. “But we can’t afford to lose her.”
“No, we can’t. So hurry.”
Tyler glanced at Jesse, former MARSOC-turned-hitman, now a part of their team. “What do you think?”
“You trust him?” Jesse asked.
“With my life.” He said it immediately, without any hesitation.
Jesse nodded, absently stroking a hand over Amber’s hair. “Then make the call.”
Chapter Three
Escape.
That’s what Heath had needed, and he planned to make the most of this leave in Paris between security contracting jobs. Escape from the grind of being in a combat zone for months at a time. From the sheer, mind-numbing boredom during downtime, then the toll of frequent bursts of high-alert status when they went outside the wire.
Escape from the ghosts that never truly let him rest. Friends he’d lost on the battlefield, whose faces remained sharp in his mind whenever he tried to sleep.
He took a pull of ice-cold beer from the bottle, set it down with a sigh and picked up his cutlery to dig into the crepe filled with Nutella and bananas. It was late and the café was mostly empty. He’d always heard the food in Paris was second to none, and so far, he’d have to agree. This place around the corner from his rental was open until three in the morning and he liked this time of night because it was peaceful, without too many people around.
After spending the past two days shaking off the dust of East Africa in the French capital, he was in full vacay mode. He’d already seen the Eiffel Tower and been to the Louvre. Over the next few days he planned to see some of the Napoleonic sites, and visit the famous catacombs that were essentially underground ossuaries full of the bones of six million Parisians.
During his years in the Air Force and then as a security contractor, he’d spent more time in Africa, the Middle East and South Asia than he had in all of Europe combined, and he wanted to rectify that during his time off between jobs. He had less than three weeks this time, and he was going to make the most of it.
He stuffed another bite of crepe in his mouth, frowned when his cell phone rang. Who would be calling him at this hour? His aunt was getting up there in years and was starting to get forgetful, but she still had enough wits to know it was the middle of the night over here.
But it wasn’t his aunt, or any of his cousins back home calling. It was his buddy Ty, from the UK. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey, man. Where are you?”
“Just grabbing a bite to eat. Something up?”
“Yes.”
Heath blinked and stilled at the serious tone, his loaded fork poised partway to his mouth. “Okay. Something wrong?”
“Are you in your room?”
“No, I’m at a café around the corner. Why?”
“Your line isn’t secure, and I need this conversation to be as secure as possible.”
Wow. Okay then. What the hell was going on? Was Ty in trouble?
“Hang on.” He set down his fork and stood. “Gimme two minutes and I’ll be in my room.” He drained the last swallow of his beer before hurrying away.
“I’ll talk while you’re walking.”
“Sure.” Concern started to build inside him. What the hell was so important that Ty would call him now and needed a secure place to talk? “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. But we’ve got a situation, and you’re the closest person I know who can help.”
Heath frowned and picked up the pace, digging his key out of his pocket. “Who’s we?”
“Megan and I. We need a favor.”
“Uh…okay,” he said slowly as he let himself into the building and jogged up the stairs to the second floor. He hadn’t met Megan yet, and Ty had been annoyingly vague about the girl he’d lost his mind over. So this must be one hell of a favor. “I’m almost there. One sec.”
He unlocked the door, did a quick visual check out of habit to make sure everything was as it should be, then locked it behind him. “I’m in. Now what’s going on?” His phone might not be encrypted, but he was alone and not under surveillance of any kind, so this was as secure as he could make this conversation.
“There’s a woman about to get on a train from Paris to Strasbourg. She’s an…old friend of Megan’s.”
“Uh huh,” he said, still unsure where this was going or why it concerned him.
“She’s in trouble.”
Heath stilled. “What kind of trouble?”
“The kind where dangerous people might come after her.”
“What kind of dangerous people?”
“Organized criminals.”
Like gangs? Terrorists? Heath hated how vague his buddy was being. But if Ty wasn’t spilling the details because the line was unsecured, then he had his reasons. “And you want me to do what about that?”
“I need you to find her and follow her.”
He blinked. “To Strasbourg?”
“Yes. And wherever she goes after that.”
Oh, no. “Look, man, I—”
“We’re too far away to get to her in time. I’m sending you a picture of her right now.”
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.
Dominic’s brother would know about the explosion. Might even know that Dominic was dead already. They would have surveillance footage from the office building—both tonight and on her previous visit. Even with the stage makeup she’d worn before, it was possible someone had tracked her to the station.
Could this guy be one of Dubois’ men? Or National Police maybe?
She couldn’t decide if he was a threat or not, but she wasn’t ruling it out. The Dubois brothers had eyes and ears all over Paris and half the country because their dirty fingers were in all sorts of pies.
Well, Guillaume’s were. Dom didn’t have any fingers left.
The thought had her fighting a savage smile. As far as she was concerned, one less evil, misogynist son of a bitch taking up precious oxygen was cause for celebration. The risk was worth it. She was used to being on the move anyway, staying at least one step ahead of anyone hunting her. Besides, Kaya was safe now, on her way to a new life with Fleur’s help. Chloe took major satisfaction in that.
Keeping part of her attention on the man across the aisle, she shifted down in her seat and tucked her gum high up under the side of her upper lip with her tongue. Folding her arms, she dropped her chin to her chest and pretended to go to sleep.
A few minutes later, the hottie across the aisle glanced over. He stared at her for a second, then went back to reading.
Huh. Maybe she was just being paranoid. Maybe he wasn’t a threat at all.
But being paranoid was why she was still breathing.
Chloe continued watching him covertly as the minutes ticked past. He had a gruff edge to him, in his body language and his don’t-talk-to-me expression. He diligently read the whole magazine, then set it aside and pulled out his phone. He didn’t appear t
o be texting anyone, just scrolling through whatever he was looking at on the screen. Every so often he would glance over at her, moving only his eyes, the looks so subtle someone without training would have missed it.
Why are you watching me?
She feigned sleep until a voice over the speakers finally announced they were approaching Strasbourg. Gruff hottie put away his phone and tucked his magazine into his backpack, his open jacket giving her a perfect view of the muscular contours of his chest beneath his snug shirt.
She narrowed her eyes and resumed chewing her gum. He might be nice to look at, but if he was a threat, she’d take him out without hesitation.
Before the train stopped, she was up and out of her seat, making her way to the door at the far end of the car. A quick glance to the side showed him up and heading toward her. He was pretending not to look at her, but he was edging past people to get closer.
I don’t think so.
The conductor had barely begun to open the door when she shoved through it and hurried along the platform, watching all her angles for any sign of a threat. Gruff hottie was still behind her, walking fast to keep her in his sights, but not chasing her.
See ya.
Chloe ducked around the corner, chose a different route to double back with, and sure enough, found him now on the platform looking around for her.
She ducked into the closest ladies’ room. In a locked stall, she pulled out some things from her backpack to change her appearance. Wearing light makeup and different clothes, she checked her reflection in the mirror to make sure the wig was on straight, then exited the washroom and doubled back with a group of passengers exiting the station.
Gruff hottie was standing on the platform, looking left and right. His gaze swept past her, then he began walking at a hurried pace through the terminal, searching for someone.
Her. She knew it.
Chloe followed, keeping a safe distance while he checked outside the building, scanned the parking lot. When he turned back and headed for the side of the terminal to check there, she made her move.
