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Authors: Janet Evanovich

BOOK: The Pursuit
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The green light went on and Nick stepped out. He modeled the suit for her.

“How do I look?”

“Very stylish,” she said. “I'll go through the tunnel first and wait for you on the other side. I'll check you out for tears and tape up any that I see.”

“You'll get infected,” Nick said.

“I've been vaccinated.”

“No, you haven't.”

“How would you know?”

“I would have seen the scar,” he said.

“You must have missed it.”

“I gave you a very thorough examination,” Nick said. “I can map every freckle.”

“I don't think I am going to be in any
real
danger of infection, do you? I'll see you on the other side of the tunnel,” she said and crawled inside.

He waited a moment, then carefully crawled in after her. It was a tight fit, but the diamond core driller had left the walls fairly smooth, and he went slowly. When he got to the end, she helped him out of the hole and checked his suit out for punctures or tears.

She tore off a few pieces of duct tape, putting one on each knee and another on his back, where the shape of the respirator stuck out like a backpack under the suit.

“Were there some rips?” Nick asked.

“I don't think so. I covered the scratches just to be on the safe side,” she said. “Follow me.”

They walked single file down the corridor, through an IGC access tunnel, and then into the sewer. A sign on the wall read
rue Boissonade
. They reached the ladder to the manhole and Kate climbed up first, pushing the manhole cover up and sliding it aside. She climbed out into the predawn darkness and saw the SAP truck parked at the curb under a street lamp. Litija was in the driver's seat. The three Road Runners, Gaëlle, and Huck were standing a safe distance away on the sidewalk behind the van, as if Nick might explode and they didn't want to get hit by the shrapnel.

Kate climbed out and waved Vinko over. “Help me ease Nick out of here.”

Vinko looked like he'd rather have a hot coffee enema, but he came over anyway.

As Nick slowly emerged, they each took one of his arms and gently eased him out of the manhole, careful to make sure his suit cleared the opening without scraping it. The instant Nick was out, Vinko joined Borko and Dusko behind Gaëlle and Huck. It was like the three Road Runners were using Gaëlle and Huck as human shields.

Kate led Nick to the back of the van and opened the doors for him. Nick stepped inside the empty cargo area. Once he was settled on a bench, Kate started to climb in, too.

“What do you think you're doing?” Litija said, turning in her seat to look at them.

“I'm going with you,” Kate said.

“No, you're not.” Litija lifted a Sig Sauer P239 off her lap and aimed it at Kate. “Get out.”

“It's okay, Kate,” Nick said. “I don't need your protection anymore. I think I'm way past that now.”

“I thought I was more than protection to you,” she said.

“You thought wrong,” Nick said. “Good luck to you.”

“I'm not the one who is going to need it.”

Kate stepped out and slammed the door closed behind her. Litija set her gun down on the passenger seat.

“Put on your seatbelt,” Litija said. “We don't want any accidents.”

K
ate watched the van drive away before turning to face Gaëlle and Huck and the three Road Runners.

The Road Runners had guns drawn, and Gaëlle and Huck had eyes wide with fear. Dusko moved a short distance from the group and aimed his gun at Kate.

“You really don't want to do this,” Kate said to the men.

“It's not a question of what we want,” Vinko said. “We follow orders.”

Kate stared him down. “I'd reconsider if I were you. If you don't lower those guns, you'll be killed. We have protection.”

“You don't look protected to me,” Vinko said.

She stayed stoic. “You're making a mistake.”

Vinko and Borko aimed. So did Dusko.

Huck took Gaëlle's hand. Gaëlle squeezed it hard and they both closed their eyes. What they heard next sounded like two sandbags hitting the ground. It took a second for Gaëlle and Huck to realize that they weren't shot. They turned around and saw that Vinko and Borko were dead on the ground, both shot in the head.

Kate didn't hear or see the shots, but knew she had Walter, up on a rooftop somewhere, to thank for saving Gaëlle and Huck. She looked at Dusko now. He stood very still, eyes wide, and then toppled face-first to the ground, a knife in his back. Antoine Killian stood a few feet behind Dusko. Kate had no idea how the enormous man had got there or where he'd come from so fast.

“Merci,”
Kate said to him.

He nodded and offered her a polite smile.
“Je vous en prie.”

She assumed it was French for “You're welcome” or “No problem.” Antoine stepped up, pulled his knife out of Dusko's back, and wiped the blood off on the dead man's jumpsuit.

A black BMW 7 Series sedan slinked around the corner behind Gaëlle and Huck and glided smoothly to a stop beside Kate. Willie was at the wheel and lowered the passenger window to speak with her.

“I've got a strong tracking signal on Nick,” Willie said, holding up a tablet device that was plugged into the car's USB port. “They're crossing the intersection of boulevard Saint-Michel and boulevard Saint-Germain.”

Kate turned to Gaëlle and Huck, both of whom looked shell-shocked. “It's all over. You're both safe now. Thank you for everything you've done. Now get out of here fast and maybe go on a vacation for a few weeks.”

She got into the BMW, and it sped away.

—

It wasn't until the car was gone that Huck Moseby realized that the fat man who'd stabbed Dusko had disappeared. Now he and Gaëlle were alone with three corpses. Huck didn't know what had just happened or who the fat man was or who the woman in the car was or who the hell had shot Vinko and Borko. All he knew for sure was that he'd barely escaped death and that Gaëlle was holding his hand.

He looked at her and thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She was literally the woman of his dreams. It was hard to believe that she actually existed.

“If you'll have me,” he said in French, “I will devote my life to making you happy.”

She smiled. “You have a deal.”

They kissed softly and then walked away, still holding hands.

—

“The first time we met,” Nick said, buckled in tight in the back of the van, “I'd just emerged from a coffin in a fake diamond vault in Belgium. Now here I am in a hazmat suit, infected with smallpox, and we're driving through the streets of Paris in a sewer van. Who would have imagined that?”

“You lead a wild, exciting life,” Kate said.

“You do, too.”

“But it's been much more profitable for you than me.”

“It doesn't seem like it at the moment,” Nick said.

“I'm sure you've been in situations as bad as this.” She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “How many times have you had a gun to your head or a knife to your throat?”

“This is different. I can talk myself out of those situations.”

“I've seen you do it and it was amazing, especially the way you played Dragan. Nobody has ever done that before. It's not just what you say, it's also the outrageous risks you take at the same time. You've inspired me.”

“Really?” Nick said. “To do what?”

“You'll see,” she said.

She remained silent as they headed north through central Paris, along much of the same scenic route that Gaëlle had taken with Nick and Kate during their Uber ride. They hit the A1 freeway, taking the ramp for Lille/Aéroport Charles de Gaulle/Saint-Denis. Nick figured they were going to an airport to board Dragan's private jet for a trip to another country. Suddenly Litija exited off the freeway and drove into an industrial warehouse district miles away from the airport.

“Are we taking the scenic route?” Nick asked.

Litija ignored him and proceeded through the rotting gates of a sprawling abandoned factory. The cavernous brick buildings had multiple smokestacks and were tangled in the gantries, pipes, and conveyors belts that ran through them, around them, and over them. She drove into one of the buildings, which was the size of an airplane hangar, and stopped the van.

“Where are we, Litija?”

“At a turning point for both of us.” Her cellphone rang. She answered it and put it on the speaker. “Hello, Dragan. I've put you on the speaker and am talking to you in English so Nick can hear you, too.”

“I'm very sorry about what happened to you, Nick,” Dragan said. “But I can assure you of two things. Thanks to your quick thinking, you'll survive and our project can still go forward as we planned. You'll be a very rich man when this is over.”

“I like that,” Nick said.

“In a few minutes, you'll be on my plane and on your way to my lab, where you'll get the best medical care and you can watch our plans take shape while you recuperate.”

“Recuperate? I thought I was getting the vaccine.”

“You are,” Dragan said. “But not immediately. We need to wait for the virus to multiply in your bloodstream so we can extract a potent sample that we can work with.”

“You're using me as an incubator?”

“It's not how I would have liked to do things, but you're the one who dropped the vial. So we're turning lemons into
limoncello,
as they say.”

“Okay, so what's the delay?” Nick asked. “Why are we sitting in this warehouse?”

“I can answer that,” Litija said. “There's been a little change in plans, Dragan. I wanted you to hear Nick so you'd know he was with me and that he's still alive.”

“Smallpox doesn't kill instantly,” Nick said.

“But I do,” she said. “I will kill Nick unless twenty million dollars is wired to my offshore bank account in the next ten minutes.”

Litija disconnected the call.

—

Kate and Willie heard every chilling word through their earbuds as they sped along on the A1 freeway. This was an unexpected complication they didn't need after one too many complications already.

“How far behind them are we?” Kate asked.

“Five minutes,” Willie said.

“Make it two,” Kate said.

Willie floored the gas pedal and wove through the cars in front of them like the
Millennium Falcon
flying through an asteroid belt. Kate took out her phone and hit the speed-dial key for her father.

“How close are you, Dad?”

Willie leaned on her horn and drove between two lanes, shearing off the side-view mirrors. “Oops. I guess I should have taken the insurance,” she said.

“Ten minutes,” Jake said. “But we'll make it five.”

—

“Just sit tight, Nick,” Litija said, aiming her Sig Sauer at him. “Once I have the money, I'll leave you here. I'll let Dragan know where to find you when I'm a safe distance away.”

“That could take hours, and I don't have a lot of hours to spare.”

“It is what it is.”

“I have a better idea. It's getting stuffy in here. So I'm going to unzip this suit and get some air unless you put that gun down and start driving.”

“If you touch that zipper, I'll shoot you.”

“That would be stupid, because if you puncture this suit, you'll be infected with smallpox.”

“There are three problems with your threat. The first is that I've been vaccinated against smallpox.”

“I don't believe you,” Nick said. “So I will call that bluff.”

“The second is that I'm a dead woman anyway, because whether you live or die, Dragan will hunt me to the ends of the earth. But with twenty million, I'll have a better chance of outrunning him or at least living very, very well until he finds me.”

“That just proves how much you want to live.”

“Which brings me to number three. You don't want to die. You'd rather take your chances with the virus than risk a bullet in the head from me. Besides, you've got nothing to lose in this transaction. What do you care if I walk away with twenty million dollars? You're going to be a billionaire.”

“Assuming Dragan pays.”

“He'll pay,” she said. “What's twenty million against billions?”

“You might kill me anyway just to spite Dragan.”

“Do I strike you as a spiteful person?”

“Isn't that why you are doing this? Because you're mad that Dragan killed Zarko?”

Litija laughed. “I don't care about Zarko. You met him. He was a slug.”

“But you were shaking after Dragan pushed him off the cliff.”

“Because it could easily have been me if I'd been standing there,” she said. “I'm doing this for the money. I want to be rich and far away from Dragan Kovic. The man is insane, in case you haven't noticed.”

“I noticed,” Nick said.

“But you still went into business with him. You must be crazy, too.” She picked up her phone and checked it. “The money hasn't shown up in my account yet. You've got three minutes.”

There was a tap-tap on the driver's side window and Litija went pale. It was Kate, tapping the barrel of her gun against the window.

“Put the gun down or I'll blow your head off,” Kate shouted through the glass. She was still in her dirty sewer worker's jumpsuit.

Litija stared at Kate in absolute disbelief. “How did you get here?”

“The same way he did,” Kate said, gesturing to the passenger side.

Litija turned. A man in his sixties stood outside the window, and he was also aiming a gun at her. He had the buzz cut, bearing, and hardened gaze of a soldier. She'd underestimated Nick and Kate. They'd had a second team of professional killers watching their backs. Her inability to anticipate this move demonstrated why she'd always been somebody's minion. She wasn't clever enough to lead. It proved to her that this twenty-million-dollar play was her last, best chance at changing her fate.


You
drop the gun,” Litija said. “And the old man drops his, too, or I will kill Nick right now.”

“That would be a mistake,” Kate said. “Because I'm your ticket to freedom and happiness.”

“How do you imagine that?”

“I'll let you go and tell Dragan that I killed you,” Kate said. “You won't have your ransom money, but at least you'll be free and won't have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life. Or you can shoot Nick and die right now. Your choice.”

How did Kate know about the ransom? Was the van wired? Was Nick? The fact that she didn't know the answers to those questions was more humiliating evidence that she was destined to a life of servitude and pocket change, never to leadership and wealth. She glanced at her phone, hoping for a $20 million reprieve from her wretched destiny.

The ten minutes were up. There was no alert from the bank that a transfer had been made, and Dragan hadn't called arguing for more time. He didn't pay, and she had the miserable, crushing realization that he never would. He'd rather sacrifice Nick and put off his scheme indefinitely than let her extort a dime out of him.

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