JULLOUVILLE-LES-PINS
FRANCE
Restaurant La Promenade was a short drive from Paul Aubertin’s house and had a fabulous view. From it, he could look out onto the Granville rocks and the Chausey archipelago.
La Promenade was a wonderful family restaurant with a menu du marché that changed daily. Today, they were offering pan-fried solettes with mashed potatoes, basil, and asparagus. Aubertin ordered a bottle of Sancerre to go along with it and as he basked in the 1930s Belle Epoque setting, he tried to make sense of his project.
True to his word, Trang had allowed him to run everything the way he had wanted, and with no strings attached.
As he had been taught back in Belfast, he had taken his time and had done his research.
He hadn’t planned on getting his hands dirty on this one, at least not right out of the gate, but his trip to Norway had been unavoidable. It was too good a lead, too rich with potential intelligence to leave to anyone else.
He had seen some tough, crusty old bastards in his day, but Carl Pedersen of the Norwegian Intelligence Service took the prize. Jesus, could he withstand a beating. And to be fair, not just a beating, but some of the worst torture Aubertin could put on him. Whoever this Scot Harvath was, he hoped he knew what a loyal friend he’d had in Pedersen. Right until the end.
But as nobly as the Norwegian had resisted, as bitterly as he had fought back the pain, it was all for naught. No one came to rescue him and Aubertin got what he wanted eventually. Though he had told the NIS man repeatedly that it would be easier if he would just cooperate, Pedersen had been quite stubborn.
With the information he had accessed, Aubertin had put together a dossier and then had gone searching for Harvath.
Aubertin didn’t like operating in America—not if he didn’t have to. Their relationship with Great Britain’s law enforcement and intelligence agencies was too tight. Instead, he had hoped to pick up a lead on Harvath from Europe. The information broker he went to for these things hadn’t disappointed him. Though it had cost a small fortune, the investment had been worth it.
From what he got from Pedersen, it was a quick jump to the next rung on the ladder. As soon as his information broker secured Harvath’s credit card information, Aubertin began tracking all of it, along with his cell phone.
The usage was spotty, but it had put him squarely in the Florida Keys—first at an exclusive resort called Little Palm Island and then in Key West.
Aubertin had compiled a list of accomplished contract killers. The decision he needed to make was who to set loose first. More important, who could get the job done and not be a pain in the ass to kill once it was all over.
He had decided to offer it to a Belgian he had worked with in the Foreign Legion. The man was very competent. But more important, Aubertin knew what his weak points were, knew where he lived, and knew how to get to him after the job was complete.
The man had been given a handful of days to conduct his surveillance and decide on the time and place to eliminate the target.
Based on their communications, it should have happened three days ago. There had been no word from the Belgian since. Considering the dangers inherent in their line of work, Aubertin had to assume the worst.
This put him in a very difficult situation. He’d had a solid lead and now it had been lost. Harvath had not turned his phone back on, had not used a credit or ATM card, nor had his passport been used to exit the United States and enter another country. Yet, his source could no longer find him in Key West. The same went for all of the known aliases he had been able to come up with.
The Belgian must have spooked him and Harvath had gone to ground. It was now going to be a much bigger challenge to track him down.
The problem with a man like Harvath was that he had experience finding people who didn’t want to be found. He likely had a whole bag of tricks to keep him off the radar.
At some point, though, he was going to need help. That was the key. If Aubertin could figure out to whom he would turn, then he might be able to pick up his trail.
To do that, he would have to map out all the important people in Harvath’s life—all of the people he might go to. It was a Herculean task. And if Harvath was smart, which Aubertin knew he was, he’d avoid the most obvious ones. In fact, there was a good chance he might go to an enemy—someone no one would ever think he would turn to.
Aubertin’s head hurt. The double and triple crosses that existed in this game could be madness-inducing. It was like standing in a funhouse hall of mirrors trying to discern reflection versus reality.
There was also the problem of Trang’s client—the person who had ultimately put up the money and had ordered the contract. Apparently, they were growing angry with how long the operation was taking.
Whoever this person was, they were threatening to pull the contract if results didn’t happen soon. What’s more, they had also hinted at serious, physical reprisals.
Trang, already nervous because of the double crosses they had planned, decided to extend his stay in Paris. Returning to his home in Vietnam—the spot where Andre Weber had opened the contract and had paid him his fee, didn’t seem like a great idea right now.
Aubertin needed to get results. To do that, he’d have to clear his mind. That’s why he had come to La Promenade. If he didn’t come up with a plan by the time lunch was over, he’d take a walk along Jullouville’s beach. Sometimes, he did his best thinking when he wasn’t thinking.
He was already on his second glass of wine when the waiter brought out his entrée. The baby Dover sole looked, and smelled, delicious.
It struck him that he had never asked how the local fishermen caught them. He assumed it was with a net, but he was more interested in what artistry, what skill was necessary to trap these highly prized specimens.
Did you have to go deep? Or were they closer to the surface? Near shore? Or far out into the English Channel? It was almost laughable how little he understood about a simple subject and a food he so regularly enjoyed.
But thinking about it had the effect of focusing his mind even more keenly on Harvath.
He didn’t realize that’s what had happened until he was preparing to pay his bill.
That was when it hit him. That was when he knew how he was going to flush Harvath out into the open.