“Under what charge and authority?” the man demanded.
Neither agent answered him. “Place your hands behind your back. You are being taken into custody.”
Confusion, horror, and anger swirled around the monitors. They both began to argue with the agents, demanding to see the supervisor and arrest warrant papers issued for their arrest. The woman pulled away violently from the agent as she was cuffed and stated, “You have no right to detain us without telling us why.”
“If you continue, we can add an obstruction and battery to a federal agent to the charge, and no legal authority forces me to state the charges. We do have some questions about your passports to start,” the agent said, and with that, they settled down.
The agent looked at me and said, “Ma’am, you are free to board the plane.”
The woman I now knew was Nare Tavitian looked at me and said, “You go on. You know what to do.”
Agent Dennings was standing by the open door of the plane and approached me as the couple was taken to a side room. Entering the plane together as if I was just another passenger she walked me down the aisle. If there were another member of their group on board, it would be obvious I had boarded. If someone was stupid enough to come forward and ask for the two monitors and give themselves away, God what a bonus, but there was no such luck.
I casually followed Agent Dennings to the end of the airplane where all the food and beverages were stored. She directed me to the flight crew rest area where a flight attendant suit, glasses, shoes, and wig were laid out. I stepped inside, changed, and was now a short-haired blond flight attendant with black glasses and four inches taller. Following her directions, we started up the aisle acting as staff members glancing at seat belts, ensuring seat backs were upright, and closed overhead bins. The pilot announced that the plane was cleared to roll back and the flight crew was ready to secure the doors. Agent Dennings and I walked up the aisle and off the plane.
As we reached the end of the jetway, we listened to the pressurized whoosh of the cabin door as it was secured and pressurized. The plane was now officially closed off from ingress or egress. We were safe. In about twenty minutes, the flight would be thirty-three thousand feet above the earth with no cell phone transmission available.
“The plane will be rolling back in three minutes. We want it off the ground and in the air. By now, the all-electronics-off warning has been given, and if anyone was on the plane, they saw you. Once the airplane is in the air, we can slip through the doors and out,” Agent Dennings said rubbing my arm.
“Wow, that was incredible. You people really know how to party,” I said as I bent over leaning on my knees to breathe in deeply and tried my best to lower my heart rate and not throw up.
She laughed as her phone rang. “Dennings.”
I tried to listen, and all she said was, “Great. I see it rolling now. When they lift off, we’ll be over.”
“Any news?” I asked.
“Khalid Abdurrahman, a Qatar nationalist and the man you know as Mr. Jamil, is in custody. Your watchers Nare and Davit Tavitian, who are two Armenian nationals, and Dimitri Roselov are also in custody. The Swiss have been alerted and will be waiting for our lawyer friend in Zurich. They will relieve him of his documents when he arrives at the gate to meet you in Zurich.” She smiled and in her tone a job well done was implied.
“How did they stop Khalid from boarding?” I asked. “That man seemed as if he had everything focused with plan A, B, and C. It seemed as if he left no stone unturned.”
“Slick should not have cut his hair at the airport and so drastically changed his appearance from his passport. The gate agent felt that he looked so different when he tried to board that he might be in possession of a stolen passport. She told Mr. Abdurrahman that Immigration had to clear him with a biometric scan and fingerprints. He agreed to follow the agent and cooperate. He apparently didn’t know he was on a watch list for theft of antiquities, but not on a no-fly list, so we got him. Plus, as a bonus, it appears his visa was sketchy, but Immigration can deal with that,” she said.
“They can’t communicate with each other? No one knows the other was detained?” I asked.
“No, they are all isolated. No phones, and each thinking probably that the other will make it to Switzerland,” she said. She glanced at her cell and said, “All clear. Let’s get you over to the agents, get a statement and identify the people in custody. They will want to get a video statement, so I believe you will be here awhile. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
“I’d murder a chocolate chip muffin and white chocolate mocha.” I gratefully accepted.
“Come, I’ll get you over and get us some food,” she said. “Just in case anyone is still watching, here is a badge, and continue to act like a flight attendant.”
I walked from the jetway past the gate agents who waved, and we returned a wave as if they had known us for years. We headed to the briefing room.
Swiping the card and punching in codes for two sets of doors, I was excited to be walking back to an excited room of several agencies. I expected cheers and booze to flow. Case closed. But my heart contracted as I entered the room. The tone was somber, and no one wanted to make eye contact.
“What’s wrong?” My knees buckled and my chest squeezed as my heart accelerated.
“Here, sit a minute. We have some disturbing news.” Cillian gently took my arm.
“Please do not tell me they slipped out of custody.” I was ready to fall.
“No, no,” he said and took a deep breath. “About ten minutes ago, White’s house exploded along with the studio. Nothing is left. It was blown clear to the foundation.”
I jumped and started swinging my arms wildly screaming, “Aunt Mary, El, Lucy, Sigmund, are they okay?”
“They are all fine. We moved them all out this morning after Jude was found dead.” He sprang to embrace and calm me. “God, sorry. I should have led off with that. Sorry, Sorry.”
“Why are you all behaving as if they died?” I asked shaking like a leaf.
“With the day you have had, we figured this would be the tipping point to a nervous breakdown. I expected you to start crying and possibly pass out. Kidnapping, almost being secreted out of the country. Not your typical day,” Jackson said.
“Christ, you scared the hell out of me. The house wasn’t even mine so I could give two flips,” I said throwing myself in a chair bending forward and putting my head between my legs. “Coffee, I need coffee.”
“All your clothes, photos, memorabilia, your computer, all your stuff. Your life in the house is in the rubble,” Cillian reminded me as if to ground me.
“Stuff, Cillian, stuff. My entire computer hard drive is on a flash drive on my key chain. Pictures on Smugmug as a backup. Clothes. I’ll miss my clothes, but I’m sure Jude had replacement insurance and if not there are consignment stores. As long as my people are safe, I don’t care,” I said with a shoulder shrug.
“Wow, I did not see this coming. This is good, this is very good. You think this is shock or will you be able to hold this perspective together?” Jackson asked.
“Shut up, asshole,” I threw back at him with a dismissive wave.
“I might as well rip the Band-Aid off. The dean has slotted someone else in your place to finish the year,” Cillian said sadly.
“Good. because I don’t think I have the brain power to go back to work. I need a vacation and a start to my new life,” I said.
Sitting up, I slammed my hand on the table and demanded my muffin and coffee.
Cillian stood up and opened his arms with a soft, “Come here.”
I stood up, and we embraced not caring who saw. I needed his strength. I didn’t want to admit it to Jackson, but I was in shock and running on adrenaline.
“Mary has been blowing up my phone. How about you call her and tell her you are fine?” Handing me the phone I dialed the number.
Emma
“I HAVE NO PROBLEM DECIDING what to d
o about a job because I have no job. I also have no problem whether to stay at the house because there is no house. I am an unemployed homeless person.” My fate had been decided for me. “And you know what? I am good with the outcome that has been thrust upon me.”
“Then what’s the plan?” Mary asked, rubbing her hands together diabolically.
“What I see here is a clean slate,” Cillian said. “An opportunity to make some new plans around what makes you happy. Tell me, Em, what would make you happy? Just go for it. Spill all of your thoughts without thinking.”
“A family, Aunt Mary living with me again, and a job I can grow into,” I responded without even thinking.
“Do you love me as Aunt Mary said?” Cillian asked.
Without hesitation I answered, “Yes.”
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
Even after all the deception and betrayal that had swarmed around me in the previous months I answered, “Yes.”
“This is what I’ve found out. Jude and Sopia were married, and they have a son, Justin, who lives in London with his grandparents. They are in the process of having custody transferred to them. Under the law—I know Eloise is anxious to tell you, but I am getting there before her—your domestic partnership is void. Jude was married and could not enter into the contract as it was an illegal contract.
“After the government finishes its investigation, which could take years, everything left goes to Justin. The trust remains in effect because it was a separate document. I think you should talk to Eloise and disavow yourself as a trustee and let the probate court take over and determine what should happen to the trust as part of the probate of the estate. Regarding the accounts in your name around the world, a problem remains. We need to track them all down. But I anticipate the government will ask you to sign them over so they can take charge of the process and assets,” Cillian said.
“I just texted El to come over, and she said she is on her way,” I said as I put the cell down.
“Now. We need to talk about us,” he said as he took my hand.
“Finally,” Aunt Mary piped in and got a wink in return from him.
“I’m thinking we should get married and move to Colorado. I have a friend in the art recovery industry, and he can bring you on board. And if you say yes, we can buy a house large enough to grow our family and of course Aunt Mary will have her own suite—”
“I’m in. Her answer is yes,” Aunt Mary interjected.
“All right. Let’s just roll back a minute,” I said. “What about your job with the FBI?”
“I love my job, but you are still a material witness. I had told Thad about us and he is not sure how that will play out if I remain an agent. The company I have been having conversations with is ready to hire us as a team. I’m ready if you are?”
“Considering I have not had a bunch of offers or choices, that sounds great and the answer to marriage is yes.” I threw my arms around him.
Aunt Mary joined us in a group hug and that was settled.
As Eloise entered the door, we all turned to the television where the sound had been muted. Lots of activity flashing from three different areas.
Cillian turned the volume up for us to listen to the newscast.
The headline on the television read, “BREAKING NEWS.”
The newsman started, “Ladies and gentlemen. Today, May 16, 2017, there is breaking news coming in from Paris, Rome, and London. In a simultaneous well-coordinated attack, Westminster Abby, Notre Dame, and Saint Peters Basilica have been hit and three massive deadly explosions—”
The End
KATHLEEN MCGILLICK IS A PRACTICING attorney who sorts through the pieces of people’s lives. Much like a puzzle master. Each piece, carefully placed together, perfects the complete puzzle of each unique person. Who is this person? What drives them? What makes them tick? What are their deepest secrets and unspoken fears? No surprise she ended up writing a legal thriller!
Why and how people commit crimes has always held an interest for her and that is reflected in her latest novel.
Kathleen grew up in New York and has lived in Georgia for thirty-three years. She has enjoyed a career in nursing as well as the law. After obtaining a Bachelor of Science degree in Nursing, and a Master of Science degree in Nursing she set out fifteen years later to obtain her Juris Doctorate. This varied education and experience helped mold the writer she is today.
She considers herself a global citizen and an avid international traveler. With her son in tow as her early travel companion she has visited over eighteen countries in the last twenty years. Some cities like Paris, London and Rome deserved multiple revisits. A pilgrimage to London at least every two years is a must to keep her batteries charged and give her the history fix she craves. In her spare time, you can find a book in her hand or wandering through an art museum. Kathleen is a mother and grandmother as well as the food lady to her cats and any wild life that wanders to her porch.
www.kjmcgillick.com
Learn about the subject matter in the
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K.J.’s Facebook Page
You can email her at [email protected]
Her varied travels can be found at www.travelingesquire.smugmug.com
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