Blowback

“I don’t know, “He responded as he looked at his watch and realized it was nearing four o’clock in the morning. There had to be something. They were already in the building. Sotheby’s had to have another copy of the information somewhere, but where? Think, he told himself. The hard part is over-we’re already inside. Where would Davidson have kept backups of her files? Was there a central server in the building? Did they have hard copies in a file room somewhere? Harvath laughed at that idea. If Sotheby’s did have a file storage area, there was no telling how big it would be. With all of the transactions they did in Paris each year, the room would be enormous. It could take up an entire floor. It could even comprise a completely different building. Not only were they searching for a needle, they had no idea where the haystack was.

Then, something hit him. “Didn’t Davidson say she worked from home sometimes when she needed peace and quiet?”

“Yes. She most likely had copies there of everything she was working on. I often do the same thing.”

“So do I,” replied Harvath as he opened one of Davidson’s desk drawers. “She must have carried a purse, or a wallet or something that might have her address in it.”

After several moments of looking, it was Jillian who found the purse inside a tiny cabinet beneath the small sink in the corner. “Got it,” she said, pulling it out so Harvath could see it.

“Good job.”

Jillian cleared a spot on the nearest workbench, and while Harvath held the flashlight for her, she turned the purse upside down and emptied its contents. Among an assortment of useless items were a wallet, cell phone, and set of keys. Immediately, her attention was drawn to a Swiss Army knife, just three inches long, hanging from the key ring.

“What is that?” asked Harvath as Jillian extended a rectangular piece of metal-tipped plastic from beneath one of the blades.

“It’s a compact flash memory stick,” she replied. “It’s like a portable hard drive or storage device. I use the same thing to transport files between my computer at work and the one I have at home. Dr. Davidson must have been doing the same thing.”

“That might be exactly what we’re looking for,” said Harvath as another flash of lightning exploded.

Jillian, who was standing near the windows, suddenly saw a figure dressed completely in black, perched on the sloped roof and staring through the glass at them. But before she could scream, Khalid Alomari raised his pistol and fired.

THIRTY-FOUR

When the window exploded in a hail of razor-sharp glass, Harvath was already in motion. Leaping across the large table covered with artifacts, he knocked Jillian to the ground and drew the.40-caliber H amp;K USP Compact he was carrying at the small of his back. Raising himself up onto one knee, Harvath prepared to fire, but was forced to hit the deck when Khalid Alomari raked the room with another fusillade. A screeching, high-pitched siren soon joined the sound of gunfire. The shattered window had triggered the alarm system. Harvath could almost hear the heavy boots of Sotheby’s well-armed guards pounding their way up the stairs at that very moment. That was all he needed. He had no desire to dance with those guys again. They had to get out of there-now.

Rolling to his right, Harvath pounded the area around the window frame with six rounds from his H amp;K. Turning back to where Jillian lay, he said, “When I count to three, I want you to take off running for the hole in the wall. Stay low and don’t stop for anything.”

“I don’t think I can move,” she wheezed as her breath came in short gasps. Her hands were trembling and her eyes were wide with fear. Seeing Molly Davidson’s body and now this, it was all too much and had resulted in classic adrenaline dump. Her fight-or-flight mechanisms were overloaded and she was completely paralyzed. Harvath needed to get her focused on moving.

Handing her the keys to the van, he said, “I’m going to hold him off while you run. I want you to take the van and go back to the hotel and wait for me. Got it?”

Alcott nodded her head.

“Good. I’m going to count to three. Are you ready?”

“Wait,” she said, scared and trying to stall. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll meet you there. Here we go. One. Two. Three!”

Harvath let loose with another volley of six shots while Jillian ran for the far end of the office. When Harvath had fired his final shot, he ejected the spent magazine and inserted a fresh one. He put seven additional rounds through the eaves above, hoping to get lucky and nail Alomari outside on the sloped roof, but there was no way to be sure. All he knew was that he was no longer returning fire. Either Harvath had gotten lucky or Alomari was on the run. Like it or not, Harvath knew he had to go after him.