Emily — Teterboro Airport, NJ
She could smell them before they touched her. Two sweaty men with strong hands and arms quickly removed the bands from Emily’s legs and arms, lifting her from the cot. Her blood ran cold. When they began to slowly rub their hands along her body, she recoiled in disgust. Enraged. Now is not the time to fight, she told herself, although it may come to that, especially if they’re moving me.
The two men hurriedly escorted Emily into what seemed like the same truck as before. Once again she was forced to lie on the hard bench where she was strapped down.
“Don’t be frightened. We’re just moving you to another location,” the woman’s automated voice said into her earphones.
Oh God, Emily said to herself. If I leave Teterboro Airport, Wilson will never find me. She quickly turned her panic to resolve. No more fear. It had been pure luck or providence that she’d found the folded matchbook wedged between the floor and the toilet. She couldn’t let it be for naught. As she racked her brain for a way to let Wilson know, she felt the needle enter her arm.
The truck began to move. She didn’t have much time before the unconsciousness set it. It’s now or never, she said to herself. Emily began to convulse violently. Using every bit of her strength and determination, she twisted and turned her body like a trapped snake. When she started slamming her head up and down against the metal bench with saliva drooling out of her mouth, the truck finally stopped. Within seconds, she could feel the agitated commotion around her. Then came the crushing blow to her face. Pain surged through her head and neck before she lost consciousness.
From the moment the two in-flight service trucks stopped on the tarmac access road, three of Hap’s operatives trained their night vision scopes on their every movement. Two men from the cab of the second truck hurried to the back of the lead truck and lifted the roll-up door. Before the door closed, Hap’s men identified the woman struggling on the bench as Emily.
“It’s her!” one of the operatives whispered urgently into the microphone.
“Got it,” Driggs said calmly as he studied the monitor receiving video feeds from each man’s scope. “Tag it. Twice,” he said.
Another operative squeezed the trigger of his Barrett M-82A1, firing a tungsten-tipped microchip into the spare tire attached to the truck’s undercarriage. He squeezed again, firing another round just as the two men lifted the roll-up door from inside and quickly returned to the second truck.
“Tracking,” Driggs said into his headset as the two inflight service trucks sped away.
It was five o’clock in the morning when Driggs called Hap. “We found her, but she’s under heavy protection and they’re moving her. We’re in pursuit.”
“They must have pieced the puzzle together just like we did. Or there’s been a leak at the FBI. Whatever you do, don’t lose her,” Hap said.
“We were able to tag the truck when it stopped,” Driggs said. “They’re traveling in two Rudy’s In-flight Cabin Services trucks on runway access roads to the other side of the airfield. We began seeing dozens of in-flight trucks about twenty minutes ago. She must have done something to make them stop the truck. If they hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have identified her.”
“Make sure she hasn’t been seriously harmed and then maintain visual surveillance until we extract her. If she’s in jeopardy, you know what to do,” Hap said, worried about why she was being moved. Whatever the reason, it wasn’t good.
Hap strode briskly into Wilson’s bedroom to report the news. “They found her,” Hap said, leaning over Wilson who was half asleep.
“Thank God,” Wilson jumped to his feet.
“She’s en route at the moment.”
“What? They’re moving her?”
“We have a tracking device on the truck. The team will use a thermal imaging camera to verify she’s unharmed. We’ll extract her at the first hint of danger.”
“Why are they moving her?” Wilson said as emotions welled up inside him.
“They’re clearly taking precautions. The fact that she hasn’t called again suggests they may have deciphered her clues. Just like we did.”
“How long does the FBI expect us to wait?”
Hap looked at his watch. “Simultaneous arrests are set for forty-eight hours from right now.”
“Have you talked to Kohl?”
Hap nodded slowly. “Her position is unchanged. If we extract Emily now, every member of the secret partnership will go into hiding. FBI surveillance will stop some, but not all. But she said it’s your decision.”
“I’m not sure I can wait that long.”