Page 28 of The 9th Man

“Doubt it,” he said, but he wasn’t as confident as he tried to sound.

Based on media reports their involvement in Genappe and Brussels appeared to have gone unnoticed, but police often withheld critical details from the media. If that was the case here, and they were identified, there’d be no way they would be allowed to cross into Luxembourg. On the other hand the police could have just as easily nabbed them when he traded rental vehicles back in Bruges for another Peugeot. Yet nothing occurred.

Which seemed both good and bad.

“Both Belgium and Luxembourg are EU members. The borders are essentially open,” he said. “But they’re still sovereign nations. If they want to check vehicles, they can. Usually, they do it for training rookie border guards.”

“That’s real comforting, Lukey.”

He smiled at her use of Marcia’s euphemism. Whom he’d not heard from. Memo to himself. Call her.

He guided the Peugeot in between a line of wheeled barricades then coasted to a stop behind a red VW coupe, which the guards waved through with only a cursory glance into the back seat. Luke pulled forward. One of the guards halted him with a raised palm.

“I’m not liking this,” Jillian muttered.

“Just keepsmiling,” he said.

He lowered his window.

“Paspoort, alstublieft,” the stone-faced guard said.

Luke handed over his blue American passport through the window.

“The purpose of your visit?”

“Bit of sightseeing. Larochette, then Bourscheid Castle.”

“And you are?” the guard asked Jillian.

“The girlfriend. Dragged along to see another damn castle.”

The guard smiled. “Do you have a passport?”

“I do, but not with me. I didn’t know it would be needed. I’m American too.”

“One moment,” the guard said. “Please put your vehicle in park.”

Passport in hand, the guard walked around the Peugeot’s hood to his partner. They began a huddled conversation.

“Luke, that second guard photographed our license plate.”

“Standard practice. Forms to fill out, boxes to tick. This one will come up as a rental. Nothing more.”

He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. This scrutiny was a bit above and beyond. He’d already mapped out an escape route ahead with the Peugeot. But there’d be damage. No question. Bloodshed? Maybe not. Neither guard toted a weapon. But he and Jillian were armed with the pistols from yesterday.

Finally, the uniformed man returned to Luke’s window.

“Mr. Daniels, that is your name, yes?”

“So my mama tells me.”

The guard’s face remained stoic. “Please be aware your passport expires in seven months. If you plan to stay either in Belgium or Luxembourg, I suggest you contact the nearest U.S. embassy.”

“Thank you, I’ll do that.”

“Enjoy your stay.”

He rolled up his window and drove on.