Foreign Influence_ A Thriller - Brad Thor [42]
Harvath began to increase his speed until he pulled right up alongside the runners. “Thanks again for the help,” he said.
The bodyguard smiled back. “Anytime,” he replied.
That was when Harvath lifted the Taser and fired.
CHAPTER 19
Harvath slammed on the brakes as the bodyguard’s muscles seized up and he fell over into the road. He had to act fast.
He threw the Taser on the dash, its long wires running through the window to the two barbed probes embedded in the bodyguard’s chest.
He had figured that Dominique Fournier would take off on her long legs like a gazelle, but he had figured wrong. He wasn’t even halfway out of the car when she was on top of him. Immediately, his original opinion of her shifted as she kicked him in the groin harder than he could ever remember being kicked.
His vision dimmed, the wind whooshed from his lungs, and his knees buckled. He fell to the ground and realized how badly he had misjudged this woman.
He looked up just in time to see her considerably sized fist come sailing through the air at his head. He was on his knees between the car and its open door, powerless to do anything to stop her. He had no choice but to absorb the blow.
The problem was that it wasn’t just one blow; it was several, a combination. Two punches followed, and Harvath’s ear began to ring as a trickle of blood started to run from his nose. Whether this woman had taken martial arts training or had just attended one too many Tae Bo classes made no difference. He was getting his ass kicked and if she kept this up, he was going to end up being knocked unconscious.
And to make matters worse, it was only a matter of seconds before the bodyguard would be up and around. Once that happened, the game would be over.
Even though the woman had kicked his eggs so far up into the henhouse he thought his beak was going to snap off, he needed to do something. He needed to push aside the pain and get control of the situation, now.
Before he could do anything, though, Fournier grabbed the open car door and slammed it into his side. Harvath had a rule about striking women, but was about ready to tear that page from his book.
The whole right-hand side of his body was on fire and five feet away, the bodyguard was struggling to stand.
Planting his left foot, Harvath exploded into the door with his shoulder and knocked Fournier backward with it. She lost her footing as she tripped over the bodyguard, and fell on top of him.
Harvath lunged for the Taser atop the dash and pulled the trigger. Because Fournier’s skin was in physical contact with her bodyguard’s, the electricity was transmitted to both of them and they got to “ride the bull,” as it was known, together.
The minute Fournier was incapacitated, Harvath removed a handful of Tuff Ties from his pocket and trussed her up tight. He did the same thing to the bodyguard. After removing the man’s fanny pack, he slapped pieces of duct tape over each of their mouths and placed hoods over each of their heads. Then he had to get them into the car.
Fournier had done a real number on him, and it was a lot harder moving the two of them than it normally would have been. The bodyguard was a pretty solid fellow and even though she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her, six feet of woman was a hell of a lot of sugar and spice to be moving right after the beating he had taken.
The bodyguard got dumped in the trunk and he laid Fournier down on the backseat and covered her with a blanket. He didn’t have far to go, but even out here in the middle of the countryside there was always the possibility someone would see them. The last thing he wanted was to drive past some bicycling tour of Provence with the red-headed Amazon queen in plain sight, bound and gagged across the backseat.
For their destination, he had searched for something close that would allow him to work without being disturbed. After driving around yesterday, he had found it. The abandoned barn was only a few kilometers away from the ambush site. Though part of the roof was missing, all of the sides