Chapters (83)
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.