The relief simply turned him weak, sweeping through him, rattling his bones. He slid into the passenger seat and took a full breath.

“Hurry.”

“We need to make sure we weren’t tailed.” Roy pulled out in the rental, a mid-sized sedan without any oomph and took to the street slowly. York glanced out the side mirror as he ate the sandwich.

The liver pâté, sourdough, red onions and mayo went down fast and easy.

“Streets are barren.”

Roy grunted again.

“What I can’t figure out is how Alan Martin knew she was there,” York said.

Silence on the driver’s side suggested either Roy was as confused as York or—

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Roy turned onto a side street, darkened by the lack of streetlights, then again on the next street. “I’m just going back to that moment when she spotted Martin right outside the coffee shop where she happened to end up for her morning brew. Coincidence, much?”

That had been bothering him, too.

“And then there’s Ruslan Gustov.”

The name turned his gut to a knot. He crumpled the empty sandwich wrapper in a fist.

“The brother of the assassin who chased you across Russia, to America, and nearly killed you —”

“And RJ.”

“Right. Not to mention your girlfriend in Russia, and…sorry, York, but I have to say it—your wife and son.”

The words didn’t hurt as much anymore. Still, he felt them, a thumb in his wound. “I’m not sure it was him. Could have been Martin. Or any other member of the Bratva, trying to send me a message.”

“Right. Still, what is Ruslan— a scientist—doing trying to grab RJ from a parking lot outside a children’s hospital in Heidelberg, Germany?”

So many good questions. “I’m thinking he’s not a scientist anymore.”

“Or he’s added skills to his job description.”

“And how did they find them?”

Roy took another turn. “You saw the video. Mads ran toward the van. Left his daughter behind—which makes me wonder if she is his daughter. My gut says that Mads lured RJ to Germany, set her up.”

“She rescued him after they kidnapped him. Why would he run to them?”

“I think we need to put in a call to Coco and see what she can dig up on him. Do some surfing on the dark web.”

He’d already been in contact with the Caleb Group stateside hacker in hopes that RJ would contact her sister. So far, nothing.

Please, RJ, phone home.

“The good news is that it looks like RJ and Ziggy got away from them. For now.” Roy pointed to the paper, now shoved in the dash cubby.

“What’s this address? A safe house?”

“Not really. Apartment. Used to be owned by his brother. Now Johan rents it as an Airbnb. No wonder Ziggy went there.”

“Who is this woman, Ziggy?”