A second booby trap—inside the computer—exploded in an even larger ball of flame, showering the area with bits of plastic and metal shrapnel.

Connie Carson ran to him and helped him up, keeping her eye out for other attackers.

“You all right?” Middleton asked.

“I guess.” Lespasse winced as he massaged his arm and neck. He joined the others.

Her voice choking, Tesla nodded at Wetherby. “He’s gone.”

Middleton was furious with himself. He should have anticipated the devices would be sabotaged. Now the cheerful, young officer was dead, all because of his carelessness . . .

But he didn’t have time to dwell on the tragedy. He was looking at the hillside. The white van was speeding away. He glanced at Carlson, who was aiming the MP-5 at it. But the woman shook her head and lowered the gun. “Too far.”

They’d give the information to the French but he knew that the van would soon be abandoned and the driver long gone.

And who was that partner?

The sour residue of chemical explosives smoke hung in the air and stung their mouths and noses.

Middleton then noticed Tesla, who was looking at Balan’s shattered body. Something was on her mind, he could tell.

“What is it?”

“Something’s odd here.” She held up her notebook with her jottings from her conversation with the Interpol officer. “Kavi Balan’s been with Sikari for years. He was his number-one triggerman, been on hundreds of jobs. Sikari was his mentor and he was grooming Balan for high places in his organization.”

Nodding, Middleton said, “Sikari was so worried about us finding out something that he killed his favorite protégé to keep him quiet?”

“Exactly.”

“What is it, do you think?”

Lespasse said, “Might have a lead or two.” He gathered up some sheets of paper he’d just printed out and that had flown to the ground when the computer detonated. “I managed to beat the pass code and print out three emails before it blew. Two of them are street addresses. One’s in London, and one in Florida. Tampa.”

Middleton looked them over. Were they residences? Offices? “What’s the third email?”

The young man read, “Kavi, I am pleased that you like your present. Wear it forever for good fortune. When your project in the south of France is finished and you send me the information on the American, you must leave immediately. Time is very short. You recall what I have planned for the ‘Village.’ It has to happen soon—before we can move on. We only have a few weeks at the most. And be constantly aware of the Scorpion.”

Lespasse looked up. “It’s signed, DS.”

Devras Sikari.

“Destroying an entire village?” Leonora Tesla whispered. “More ethnic cleansing?” She frowned. “And where is it? Kashmir?”

Middleton shrugged. “It could be anywhere. And it’s in quotes. Almost as if it’s a code word for something else altogether.”