ask you questions, tell them the truth.”
Milton shook his head again.
“Listen, I don’t want you to get hurt,” pleaded Acton. “Too many have died already. Promise me.”
Milton sighed. “Okay, Jim, I promise.” With that, Acton popped the trunk and left the car. Milton climbed out as well. Acton gave his friend a quick one-armed thumping hug, grabbed a hockey bag from the trunk, and strode into the terminal, not looking back. Milton closed the trunk, watched his friend disappear into the crowd, then got in the driver’s seat and pulled away.
Three thousand feet above, a Black Hawk helicopter hovered just outside of the airfield’s restricted airspace. “Bravo Air Unit to Bravo One, subject has entered the airport.”
Red accessed the reservation system as Dawson packed up their equipment. “Once you find it let’s get to the base.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major.”
JFK Airport, New York City
Acton studied the boards to confirm the midnight flight to London. It was on time and leaving in one hour. He approached the counter and purchased a ticket. He knew he would be tracked on this flight since he had to use his passport so he decided to use his credit card, reserving the cash for when he arrived in London. His ticket bought, he headed for customs to find several of the scanners down and the crowds getting frustrated. Finally cleared, he arrived at his gate with little time to spare. As he headed down the gangway, he took one last look over his shoulder and could have sworn a man was looking directly at him as he talked into his wrist.
As Milton guided the Prius through the chaos that was the JFK loading and unloading zone, he started to shake as the realization of what he had been through sunk in. Get a grip! He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Someone stepped in front of his car and he slammed the brakes on. The person, dressed in a dark suit, flashed a badge as he walked up to the passenger door. He knocked on the window, pointing at the lock. Milton reached for the switch to unlock it then hesitated.
“Open the door, sir,” said the man in a firm tone.
I have to get out of this alive.
He glanced in his side view mirror and saw a gap in the traffic. With the car still in drive, he took his foot off the brake and hit the gas. The car’s electric motor thrust it into traffic with a force he hadn’t expected. Maybe that’s why Jim chose this car? Dodging in and out of the lanes, he tried to put as much distance as he could between him and his would-be passenger, whom he could no longer see in his rearview mirror. As he exited JFK he started to breathe a little easier. I’ve got to ditch this car.
He didn’t see the black Ford Expedition following several car lengths behind, his would-be passenger inside, watching on a laptop the red blip from the tracking device stuck to his door.
Milton saw a car rental place just outside the airport. He parked the Prius in a lot just down from it and walked back. As he entered the rental office, the Expedition pulled in and parked, its tinted windows blocking a view of the interior. Within minutes he was waiting out front for the car to be brought around for the customary inspection. He signed the paperwork and climbed into the Ford Focus. He gunned the motor and left the parking lot, a little disappointed in the power after having just experienced the extra torque available in the Prius’ bottom end.
The SUV pulled out and followed. Milton drove for about half an hour then pulled into a gas station. Inside, he bought some chocolate bars, chips and Diet Coke. Just for the taste of it. He asked for the bathrooms and the attendant pointed to the back. Milton left his bag on the counter and headed to the bathroom. He didn’t look back as the chime sounded at the opening of the entrance door.
Entering the bathroom, he cringed at the pungent odor of stale urine. He used his foot to
Milton shook his head again.
“Listen, I don’t want you to get hurt,” pleaded Acton. “Too many have died already. Promise me.”
Milton sighed. “Okay, Jim, I promise.” With that, Acton popped the trunk and left the car. Milton climbed out as well. Acton gave his friend a quick one-armed thumping hug, grabbed a hockey bag from the trunk, and strode into the terminal, not looking back. Milton closed the trunk, watched his friend disappear into the crowd, then got in the driver’s seat and pulled away.
Three thousand feet above, a Black Hawk helicopter hovered just outside of the airfield’s restricted airspace. “Bravo Air Unit to Bravo One, subject has entered the airport.”
Red accessed the reservation system as Dawson packed up their equipment. “Once you find it let’s get to the base.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major.”
JFK Airport, New York City
Acton studied the boards to confirm the midnight flight to London. It was on time and leaving in one hour. He approached the counter and purchased a ticket. He knew he would be tracked on this flight since he had to use his passport so he decided to use his credit card, reserving the cash for when he arrived in London. His ticket bought, he headed for customs to find several of the scanners down and the crowds getting frustrated. Finally cleared, he arrived at his gate with little time to spare. As he headed down the gangway, he took one last look over his shoulder and could have sworn a man was looking directly at him as he talked into his wrist.
As Milton guided the Prius through the chaos that was the JFK loading and unloading zone, he started to shake as the realization of what he had been through sunk in. Get a grip! He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Someone stepped in front of his car and he slammed the brakes on. The person, dressed in a dark suit, flashed a badge as he walked up to the passenger door. He knocked on the window, pointing at the lock. Milton reached for the switch to unlock it then hesitated.
“Open the door, sir,” said the man in a firm tone.
I have to get out of this alive.
He glanced in his side view mirror and saw a gap in the traffic. With the car still in drive, he took his foot off the brake and hit the gas. The car’s electric motor thrust it into traffic with a force he hadn’t expected. Maybe that’s why Jim chose this car? Dodging in and out of the lanes, he tried to put as much distance as he could between him and his would-be passenger, whom he could no longer see in his rearview mirror. As he exited JFK he started to breathe a little easier. I’ve got to ditch this car.
He didn’t see the black Ford Expedition following several car lengths behind, his would-be passenger inside, watching on a laptop the red blip from the tracking device stuck to his door.
Milton saw a car rental place just outside the airport. He parked the Prius in a lot just down from it and walked back. As he entered the rental office, the Expedition pulled in and parked, its tinted windows blocking a view of the interior. Within minutes he was waiting out front for the car to be brought around for the customary inspection. He signed the paperwork and climbed into the Ford Focus. He gunned the motor and left the parking lot, a little disappointed in the power after having just experienced the extra torque available in the Prius’ bottom end.
The SUV pulled out and followed. Milton drove for about half an hour then pulled into a gas station. Inside, he bought some chocolate bars, chips and Diet Coke. Just for the taste of it. He asked for the bathrooms and the attendant pointed to the back. Milton left his bag on the counter and headed to the bathroom. He didn’t look back as the chime sounded at the opening of the entrance door.
Entering the bathroom, he cringed at the pungent odor of stale urine. He used his foot to
Similar Books
