CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
After hiking from the covered bridge and crossing about a mile and a half of Belgian countryside, they came to a small farm with a barn that housed an old pickup truck, a couple of decades of wear under its hood and likely just used to run supplies across the acreage. But there was no one around, and its age only made it easier for Reidigger to hotwire it. The engine was slow to turn over, but they just needed the old truck to get them the fifteen miles to their destination, and it did that without incident.
“Pretty place,” Alan noted.
“Sure is,” Zero agreed. “Too bad we don’t have time for sightseeing.”
Chaudfontaine was a breathtakingly beautiful French commune in the heart of Belgium, rife with heritage and historical sites, situated along the edge of a small ri
