Near Dark (Scot Harvath #19)(102)

Yet if that was the case, why were his Spidey senses tingling off the charts? Was he getting jumpy again? Like he had when leaving the truck driver’s house or when Landsbergis had lingered in his driveway and not come directly inside? Or was this something else?

As if he needed something to complicate matters further, his phone began to vibrate. Pulling it out he saw it was a call from Nicholas. He couldn’t take it. Not here. Not during vespers. He sent a text back. Can’t talk now. And slid the phone back into his pocket. As soon as he did, it started vibrating again.

Harvath pulled it out, silenced the call, and sent another text message. I will call you ASAP.

Almost instantly, a message came back. We got a lock on his phone. We’ve located Aubertin.

The people around Harvath were getting angry that he was on his phone and not respecting the mass. He understood where they were coming from, but this couldn’t wait. It also would have been a hell of a lot more disruptive if he had stood up and walked out.

Where is he? Harvath texted.

He’s there, Nicholas texted back. At Mont-Saint-Michel.

Where? Harvath asked, stunned. Specifically?

At the abbey. Where are you?

Taking one very slow, very long look around, Harvath texted back, Also at the abbey.





CHAPTER 50


The abbey was a collection of buildings and outdoor spaces—some of which were off-limits to the public. Aubertin could have been anywhere. Harvath, though, knew he wasn’t just anywhere. He was close. He was here.

The reason he had recommended Dominique was because he was already booked for the day. If, as Nicholas had texted, he was at the abbey, it was because he had brought clients. And if they were on the premises at this time of the evening, it had to be because they were attending vespers in the church. The challenge for Harvath was to find him, without being seen.

As he took another look through the crowd, S?lvi leaned over and asked him what was going on. Handing her his phone, he let her read the texts.

The look on her face said it all. She couldn’t believe it either.

“What do we do?” she whispered.

Harvath didn’t have an answer—at least not a good one. They had been shoved down their pew to make room for a group of latecomers. It was going to be impossible to exit without crawling over people. And no matter how quiet or polite about it they were, it was going to draw attention.

While they had an excellent view of the service, when they were forced to slide farther down the pew, the view behind them became partially obstructed by a column. As a result, Harvath was unable to see a considerable slice of people. He was convinced that was why he hadn’t yet been able to spot Aubertin.

But even if he had, what was he going to do about it? Pull out his pistol and yell for the man not to move? There were too many civilians. He needed to come up with a better plan.

With the tide coming in outside, there was only one way off the island—via the causeway. There were several ways, though, to exit the abbey and make it down to the main gate. He and S?lvi were going to have to split up. If he lost Aubertin up top, he would be counting on her to trap him at the bottom.

He emphasized the word trap, making sure to clearly distinguish it from the word kill. Aubertin was the next link in the chain. Without him, Harvath would be in the dark again, back at square one.

When the pair was done whispering, S?lvi leaned over to Dominique—who had been watching their exchange out of the corner of her eye—and gave her regrets. She explained that they had received bad news from Canada about a close friend and that she needed to return to the hotel.

Dominique explained that the service was almost over. S?lvi, insisting that she had to leave, thanked her and said goodbye.

Harvath told her he’d join her there shortly and stared straight ahead. Aubertin, as far as he knew, had no clue who S?lvi was. Even if he saw her get up and leave, it wouldn’t have given him pause. Already, other tourists—prompted by their guides—were gathering their things and getting ready to be the first ones out the church doors in order to beat the rush.

He wished the tracking system Nicholas was using was more precise, but despite not knowing where Aubertin was sitting, he still had the ultimate advantage—the assassin had no idea he was there.

As the final, haunting note of the service reverberated through the church and faded away, Dominique tapped Harvath on the arm and said, “C’est fini.”

“This is for you,” he replied, having pulled another generous tip from his pocket. “I need to join my wife. Thank you for everything.”

Before the guide could respond, he was headed off in the opposite direction. Not toward the door by which they had entered, but rather deeper into the church.

Like a shark moving through the water, he slipped through the crowd. His senses were fully heightened, keen, and on alert. He kept his head down and his eyes up, sweeping back and forth, searching for his quarry.

As he moved, he expected the shudder to hit him again—for Aubertin to walk across his grave once more and announce that he was there. But the shudder didn’t come.

Instead, a flash of something else caught his attention. Just off to his left—a polo shirt he had seen earlier. As if it were a drop of blood in the water, he swam toward it.

Getting closer, he noticed a familiar skirt. Then a blazer, a sundress, and a pair of sandals. He knew these details, these people. He had seen them before—outside the Auberge Saint-Pierre.