Point of Contact

“You’re the man in the field. It’s your call. But whatever you do, find Paul.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll turn you back over to Gavin now. Keep me posted.” Gerry’s line clicked off.

“Gavin?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, Jack?”

“What the hell?”

Gavin quailed at the tone in Jack’s voice. “Sorry. I was worried about Paul.”

“What else did you tell him?”

“You mean, about the Chinese spies and all of that? Nothing. I just said Paul’s gone missing.”

“Ready to get back to work?”

“Shoot.”

“It’s a long shot. I’ve got another partial plate for you. A Toyota van. Probably a rental, but maybe not. The first three letters are S, A, M, and the first two numbers are zero, zero.”

“Singapore plates use a three-letter, three-number combo. Shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

“Call me the minute you find something.”

“Okay.”

“Not Gerry. Not the Pope. Not the president of the San Diego Comic-Con. You call me. Understood?”

“Perfectly.” Gavin rang off.

Jack pocketed his phone and headed for Paul’s bedroom, hoping he might find a clue.

* * *

Jack walked through Paul’s bedroom, looking for clues of any kind as to his whereabouts. He had no idea what he hoped to find.

Jack yanked open drawers and closet doors. Everything was neat and orderly, perfectly stacked and hung in place. No hidden devices or ransom notes or bloody towels or KGB badges.

Crap.

Then he remembered the incident with Paul in the bathroom and the USB drive after the SPF trashed their place. Despite Paul’s assertion to the contrary, Jack had seen him pull the drive out of the shower-curtain rod. He didn’t really care why Paul had done that or why the drive was so important to him that he felt he had to hide it or that he lied about it. Paul seemed harmless enough, and not doing anything he wasn’t supposed to be doing.

Clearly, he was wrong.

Jack pulled the curtain rod down and removed both ends. He didn’t see anything blocking either end, and he tipped the rod up high enough that the USB drive or anything else Paul may have been hiding in there would have fallen out.

His phone rang in his pocket. Jack tossed the curtain rod to the floor and answered his phone.

“That was fast, even for you, Gav.”

“Don’t thank me yet. It’s a long shot, but I think I found the car. It’s a local rental, signed out for two weeks to a V. Levski, with a corporate address in Sofia, Bulgaria.”

“Bulgaria? That doesn’t make any sense.” Jack wondered if the Turk he saw with the blond man wasn’t actually a Bulgarian.

“I’m texting you the GPS coordinates where the car is located.”

“How did you find it?” Jack’s phone dinged as the text arrived.

“The rental agency uses Swiss cheese for a firewall. It wasn’t a problem to hack into their GPS locator. I’m sorry, but that’s all I’ve got. It’s probably a wild-goose chase.”

“It’s a lead, Gav. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”

Jack rang off and dashed down the stairs, praying it was more than a lead. He remembered Paul’s phone and grabbed it off the kitchen counter. A message box indicated that Paul had missed three calls and a voice mail from Senator Rhodes. What the hell was that all about? He pocketed the phone, pulled on his soaking-wet boots, and dashed for the Audi TT parked in the driveway.

* * *

If the traffic was bad before, it was a pure hell now. Jack was surrounded by honking horns and red brake lights. Sheets of rain pummeled the Audi like a drummer on crack. His wiper blades couldn’t keep up. The windshield blurred with water as fast as the wipers slapped it away.

It took Jack twenty minutes to move a hundred yards on the busy three-lane PIE expressway. He used the downtime to plot an alternative route over side streets to avoid the stampede of cars heading for higher ground. Fortunately, the destination wasn’t too far away.

He took the first side street available and let the woman’s voice on his map program guide him the rest of the way, almost due west of his guesthouse. On a regular traffic day the journey was no more than fifteen minutes.

Five minutes from his destination, Jack’s phone rang. The caller ID read SEN. RHODES.

Strange.

He answered via the Audi’s streaming wireless Bluetooth. “Senator Rhodes. What can I do for you?”

“Jack, I’ve been trying to reach Paul. Is he with you?”

Yeah, I know. But why? “No. I’m trying to find him myself. Is there a problem?” In the close quarters of the Audi’s cabin, the pounding rain and squeegeeing wipers were deafening.

“I was just going to ask you the same thing. My God, it sounds like you’re in a machine shop.”

“Something like that.”

“Paul was supposed to call me this evening. I’ve tried calling his phone, but he doesn’t pick up. I’m worried about him.”

“Why?”

“You may not be aware that Paul struggles with alcohol. He says it’s under control, but that’s what every drunk says.”

Jack’s jaw clenched. He resented Rhodes calling Paul a drunk, even though it was true. “You know it was his wedding anniversary yesterday.”

“Oh, yes. Of course. I’d quite forgotten. Probably set him off. I need to speak to him immediately.”