Deliver Us From Evil (27 page)

“
W
E’RE SCREWED
,” muttered Shaw as he stared at the interior of the train station. Wearing a hat, tinted sunglasses, and, despite the warm
air, a bulky sweatshirt, he’d entered the immense bustle of Gare du Nord in Paris only to find that numerous police officers
were walking the floor holding pictures of him. Reggie, Whit, and Dominic, similarly disguised, had followed him in separately
and just seen what he had.

Then he pointed to a policewoman walking near an entrance door. In her hand was a color image of a second person.

Reggie recognized her image immediately. “Shit.”

After confirming that these were the only pictures being distributed, Shaw turned and left the station. The others joined
him outside near a rack of luggage carts.

“Now what?” asked Dominic.

Whit answered. “I say the three of us take our chances and you”—he pointed at Shaw—“can take your chances somewhere else.”

Shaw said, “I disagree.”

“I don’t care if you bloody disagree.”

“Use your brain, Whit. Four together is easier to catch. They’ve got my and Reggie’s pictures in there, not you two. You get
on the train and get back to London. Reggie and I will get there another way.”

“I don’t think so,” Whit shot back.

“He’s right, Whit,” said Reggie. “It’s better to split up. If they catch us, so be it. But it would be stupid to let them
catch all of us at once.”

Whit was unmoved by her arguments. “You seem to be trying awfully hard to think of reasons to stay with this guy.”

Shaw leaned against the wall of the station and said, “Why don’t you let the lady make up her own mind, Whit, or is that against
company policy?”

“Why don’t you shut the hell up? You don’t know anything about us.”

“Not for lack of interest or trying.”

“If we go on the train, how are you getting back to England?” Whit asked Reggie.

Shaw answered, “Amsterdam. We can grab a ferry there. I know somebody. They don’t ask questions and I doubt the police will
be covering it.”

Reggie said, “Whit, you and Dom get on the damn train. He needs to get his arm looked after as soon as possible. A little
over two hours on a train is a lot better than pitching on the Channel in a boat for days.”

“You’re really serious, aren’t you? You’re going with this bloke even though you don’t know who the hell he is?”

“I know he saved our lives. I know he disobeyed orders to come with us. Do I need to know more?”

Whit eyed her and then Shaw and finally looked at Dominic for support. The young man’s gaze, however, went directly to the
pavement.

“Fine,” said Whit. “You two just go off doing whatever. Maybe I’ll see you back in England and maybe I won’t. I’ll drop you
a line when I finish off Kuchin.” He turned and stalked back into the station, Dominic scuttling after him.

Shaw looked at Reggie. “Is he always this good-natured?”

“He’s a bloody man, isn’t he? It’s not part of their psychology to be good-natured
when they don’t get their bloody way
!” She yelled these last words after Whit, but he and Dominic had already disappeared into Gare du Nord. Reggie stalked off
in the opposite direction.

Five minutes later she and Shaw were driving off in a dark blue Ford compact Shaw had snatched because the driver had helpfully
left the keys on the front seat. After driving three blocks Shaw had pulled over. He’d taken the plates off the Range Rover
before ditching it. Now he switched out the Ford’s license plates with those.

“The cops will match the make and model before they check the plates,” he told Reggie. “Range Rover, not Ford. And the guy
whose car we stole—”

“It’ll be the reverse. Plates before make and model. So on to Holland?”

“Right. Get some sleep.”

“What if you get drowsy?”

“I don’t,” said Shaw.

W
HIT HAD
just finished speaking. Dominic sat next to him, his wounded arm in a fresh cast. Professor Mallory and Liza sat opposite
them in the library at Harrowsfield. Mallory tapped his new pipe stem idly against the old table while Liza, her mouth screwed
up in concentration, stared down at her hands.

“You’re sure that this tall fellow, what was his real name again?” began Mallory.

“Shaw,” said Whit.

“Yes, this Shaw fellow. He could not have been the one who set you up?”

“He saved us, Professor. I don’t know why he would have sabotaged the hit only to later come in and pull our asses out of
the fire.”

“It appears he may be exactly what he says he is,” said Liza. “An agent for another organization that was on Kuchin’s trail
for another reason.”

“The nuclear trafficking,” said Mallory. “Yes, I suppose that is the most logical explanation. Damn inconvenient coincidence,
going after the same scoundrel at the same time but for different reasons.”

Liza responded, “Not so much of a coincidence. They undoubtedly had the same thinking we did. Attack the man on his holiday
because they might not get another chance.”

“And no word from Regina?” asked Mallory.

Whit shook his head. “Not yet, no. They’re probably on a boat right now chugging across the water to here. At least I hope
they are.”

“But not to Harrowsfield,” said Mallory, looking alarmed. “She wouldn’t bring him here?”

“She’s not daft,” said Whit, but he looked away when he said it.

“You have to contact her, Whit, and tell her to come in alone,” said Mallory. “She cannot bring this man with her.”

“I’ve been
trying
to contact her but she’s not answering her damn phone.”

“Then you need to try harder. You need to go out there and find her.” Mallory waved his hand toward the window.

Whit looked enraged. “Out there? Where out there? Are you talking the grounds at Harrowsfield or the bleeding world? And she
got herself into this bloody mess so she can sure as hell get herself out, can’t she?”

“I don’t think that attitude is helping,” admonished Mallory.

“Well, right this minute, I don’t really care what you think,” Whit shot back.

“I believe we all need to calm down,” said Liza. “Perhaps some tea.”

Whit snorted. “Tea? Hell, Liza, give me a bottle of Locke’s eight-year-old single malt and then maybe I’ll calm down enough
to listen to this doddering old bloke again.”

Dominic spoke up. “I think we need to trust Reggie to do the right thing.” He looked around at the others, who now all stared
back at him. “I know I trust her.” He sat back and rubbed his bad arm, seemingly exhausted after his little speech.

“I think Dominic is right,” said Liza.

“Do you really want to take that chance?” asked Mallory. “Sacrifice everything we’ve worked for here? You remember the concerns
you had about her and this Shaw chap,” he added, looking at Whit. “She could be persuaded, perhaps. Blinded by, well, you
get my point, surely.”

The Irishman looked uncomfortable now. “She pretty well explained that away. And the fact is we had the bastard in our crosshairs.
The mission should have succeeded.”

“And then you were ambushed?” said Mallory.

Whit said, “The fact is, Prof, those blokes knew right where we were. They got the clear jump on us. I want to know how that
happened. No, I
need
to know how that happened.”

“You might have made a mistake,” said Liza. “They could have grown suspicious and followed one of you. Learned about it that
way.”

“No one would’ve known me and Dom were involved until D-day. Whenever Reggie came to visit us at the cottage there was no
way she was followed.”

“You met at the church at night,” Dominic pointed out.

“That might be a hole,” Whit admitted. “But we have to know for sure.”

“And Kuchin is still out there,” said Mallory.

“It’s not done, Prof. I can’t keep breathing knowing he’s still alive.”

“And I’m sure Fedir Kuchin is thinking the same thing about us,” responded Liza.

“That’s what Shaw said,” added Dominic. “He wanted to help protect us against Kuchin.”

“And I told him we didn’t need his protection,” said Whit sharply. “And we don’t.”

“And no clue as to who he’s with?” said Liza.

“They have their own wings, so they’re not operating on a shoestring like us,” Whit told her with a touch of envy in his voice.

“I don’t like this at all,” said Mallory after a long silence. “I don’t know whether I’m more worried about Fedir Kuchin or
this man Shaw.”

“Know what? I say we worry about them
both
,” retorted Whit.

R
EGGIE,
clutching her stomach, stepped onto the wharf, knelt down, and kissed the grimy boards as the ferry pulled back from the
dock and began its drift out to sea in heavy swells. It was piloted by a Dutchman whom Shaw had known for years, for reasons
he would not divulge to Reggie. The drop-off point was actually a long-forgotten World War II–era naval landing spot technically
in the middle of nowhere. It had taken nearly three days for Shaw and Reggie to get back into England, much of it spent on
the vessel as it slowly made its way through turbulent waters.

“Thank you, Jesus,” moaned Reggie.

“The boat ride
was
a little rough,” Shaw remarked as he helped her back up.

“A little rough?” Reggie’s throat convulsed and she looked ready to throw up again, but finally she stood straight and let
out a long breath, putting an arm on his shoulder to steady herself. “I thought the only place we were going to reach was
the bottom of the bloody sea.”

“Last boat ride I took was across the Irish Sea. It was pretty choppy then too. The woman I was with kept throwing up, just
like you. Must be a girl thing.”

“Who was that?” Reggie asked while eagerly if gingerly walking next to Shaw toward solid earth.

“
That
was a long time ago.”

“How did you know about this place?”

“It’s come in handy a couple of times in the past.”

“Quite a hole in our border security.”

“Every country has at least one.”

When they reached the grassy area next to the pier, Reggie checked her cell phone. It only had a sliver of juice left and
no bars. She hadn’t been able to contact anyone about her status and still couldn’t. “Damn it. This is just great.”

“I’ve got bars and juice. Give me the number and I’ll make the call.”

“I don’t think so. Then you’ll have the number on your phone.”

“This isn’t my phone. It belongs to one of your guys. The one I knocked out with a toilet.”

“Did you look at any of the contact information on it?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe I am,” he said.

“Can I have it? I need a phone.”

“Maybe later.”

Since he had nearly a foot in height and over a hundred pounds on her, she didn’t push it, but looked around at the dark surroundings.
“Where are we?”

“A few hours outside of London. I’ve arranged for wheels. Where do you want to head now?”

“I think our separate ways.”

“That is not a good idea. Kuchin can—”

“He can do a lot of things, but catching us is not one of them. In fact, Whit was right. We’ll go back after him.”

Shaw took her by the arm like he wanted to shake her. “What part of the memo didn’t you get? He almost killed you all when
he didn’t know you were coming. Now that he’s warned, you’ve got no chance of taking him.”

“We almost got him before.”

“Did you ever stop and think why you didn’t?”

“What?”

“How did those guys end up ambushing you?”

Reggie pulled away from him. “How should I know that?”

“You
need
to know that. They had inside information. They were waiting for you. You’ve got a mole somewhere.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Then give me another explanation that fits.”

“We screwed up in the field somehow and they got onto us that way. I went to the church before to meet with Whit to go over
the plan. Someone could have followed me then.”

“Why would they even suspect you?”

“You’re the one who’s trumpeting how good Kuchin is. He probably suspects everybody.”

“I listened to him when he was tied to that crypt, and so did you. He tried to bluster about killing you, but that was a man
who expected to die that day. And if he suspected you, why would he have come with you to the church in the first place?”

“We used the Muslim information you gave us to work an angle to herd him that way.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that,” she said defensively. “And it worked.”

“If someone had followed you to the church earlier and knew what was up, why would they let it play out? Why not blow the
whistle? That way Kuchin is never in danger at all.”

After staring at the dark, rolling sea for a bit, she said, “I can’t answer that. I don’t know why.”

“But the answer, whatever it is, is not good for you. If you do have a traitor in your ranks it’ll make it pretty easy for
Kuchin to come after you.”

She closed her eyes for a moment and wearily rubbed her temples. “Look, you said you made arrangements for some wheels. Can
you just get me to London? It’s the middle of the night and I’m too tired and dirty and still way too nauseous to think clearly
about this right now.”

He stared at her before shrugging. “Sure, the wheels are just up there.”

“Just up there” turned out to be a half-mile walk through uneven terrain in the pitch dark to a road. A motorbike was near
the tree line, keys under the seat. He tossed her the spare helmet. “It’s not the Vespa but it’ll do.”

She clung to him on the way back to town. When they reached London, lines of smoky pink were beginning to burn against the
sky, and early morning commuters were making their way along the still mostly empty streets. A few cabs and one bendy-bus
puttered along the roads.

She tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to one corner. He slowed the bike and then stopped near the entrance to the Tube.
She got off and handed him back the spare helmet.

“Sure you don’t want to hang with me?” he said.

“First stop we made for petrol I’d just sneak out of the bathroom window. Why not save time and cut to the chase?”

He pulled the phone from his jacket pocket and tossed it to her.
“Bonne chance.”

“So that’s it? No more trying to convince me? Just wish me good luck?” It seemed clear to Shaw that part of her wanted to
stay with him. But he wasn’t feeling conciliatory right now.

“Just another job.”

He throttled the bike.

“Thanks for saving our butts, Shaw,” she said, a bit guiltily.

“Like I said, just another job.
Reg.
”

He popped the gear changer with his heel, released the clutch, and pulled away, leaving her to trudge on to the Underground
alone.