by Becky Harmon
“How’s civilian life?” Trevor asked, pulling her thoughts away from analyzing their relationship.
“I’m adapting?” she said with a chuckle.
“You were in the air this week?”
She glanced at him and he shrugged.
“I listen to Mom talk.”
“I was. Atlanta, New York, LA, Albuquerque, and back to Atlanta.”
“Wow, that’s a whirlwind.”
“I guess that’s what my life is going to be now. Traveling all over but never really seeing anything.” Wow. She hoped that didn’t sound depressing to Trevor. Because she really was looking forward to her new life. It would bring a lot of opportunities her way, and she didn’t have to stay with Eastern forever. Especially not if something better came along.
She sighed as Trevor turned the car into his driveway, parking in front of the two-car garage. The two-story, brick- and beige-sided house filled the one-acre lot. Deidra had wanted space inside and as little to mow outside as possible. Her husband Tony was in agreement. Deidra was born in Canada but had met Tony at Fairmont University in Michigan. It had taken little to persuade him to move to Toronto, and both were happy with their house near Lake Ontario.
Dex greeted Curly, their hyperactive cocker spaniel, at the door and then crossed to kiss her dad on the cheek. He squeezed her hand but didn’t acknowledge her presence with any words. She knelt beside his chair and ran her other hand absently through Curly’s fur.
“How are you feeling today, Dad?” she asked.
He grunted a response that told her today would not be filled with conversation. She had learned in the last couple of weeks that he was starting to withdraw, but his eyes still seemed to follow discussions around the dinner table. She was thankful for each day she had with him. She knew the time was coming soon when he wouldn’t remember them or anything around him.
“I’m fine, Mary.”
His irritated tone and the reference to her mother surprised her.
She rubbed his shoulder as she stood. “That’s good.”
Deidra stood by the sink in the kitchen, and Dex could tell by the flush on her face that she had been crying. She crossed the room and pulled her into a hug.
“It’s been a tough morning,” Deidra explained.
“I spoke with him.”
“I heard.” Deidra sighed, pushing Dex away. “I made him leave the television to eat lunch with Tony and me and he wasn’t happy about it. I guess I annoyed him as much as Mom always did because he was calling me by her name too.”
Dex took the sandwich Deidra offered and sat at the table. It was going to be a long day. Deidra sat with her and they reminisced until their eyes were filled with tears of laughter. She was thankful for her sister and remembered to tell her that many times before Deidra dropped her off at her condo that evening.
Chapter Seven
Lucy had to admit she was a little relieved to be returning to work. Four days off had been nice but also long. Keeping her mind occupied took more than keeping herself busy. This week’s assignments would take her to New York, to Florida, back to Atlanta, and then to Paris with a one-day layover. Unfortunately that would be her time off between workweeks and then she would return to Atlanta to start a new week. Still, she enjoyed international flights, especially if she wasn’t too tired to see a little of the city she landed in.
For speed and convenience, she parked in visitor parking and walked through the glass doors into the Atlanta Air Marshals office. She showed her badge to the officer at the reception desk and passed into the secure area. The room was painted a horrifying shade of yellow-beige and white cubicle dividers were crammed into every available space. She acknowledged the few faces that were familiar and made her way to her desk. She quickly cleared the paperwork from her in-box and logged into her email. There was nothing pertaining to her current assignments, so she cleared the spam and left the rest to read later.
She knocked on Deputy Avila’s open door and stepped inside. His black hair was peppered with gray, but the tight T-shirt he was wearing displayed his fit upper body. An impeccably pressed suit hung on the coatrack behind him waiting for him to officially begin his day. Over the years, Lucy had gotten used to seeing him in the office hours before his schedule demanded. As he had when he was her training officer, he always made a point of knowing where and when she was on the job.
“Headed out?” he asked, looking up from the paperwork covering his desk.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay, have a good week. Don’t forget you have a week of vacation that you need to use before the end of the year.”
“There’s still plenty of time. I’ll plan it later.”
He grunted and gave her a dismissing wave.
Returning to her car, she thought about when she might take her vacation time. Between Thanksgiving and Christmas was a busy time for travel, and there was a significant uptick in the number of flights. She preferred to receive a monetary payment instead of taking the time off, but she seldom said that out loud because few people really understood that. With her new place, though, she had a need for time off so she could do her kitchen remodel. She could feel the muscles in her neck and back begin to relax as she thought about what she could do with vacation leave.
She parked in long-term Lot C and rode the bus to the departure terminal. Finally settled at her gate, she surveyed the crowd already waiting and took a seat with her back to the wall. She pulled out her iPad and opened the romance novel she had been saving for a long workweek. Inside the airport terminal she could lose herself in the words of her favorite authors and not worry about anything happening around her. She was only another passenger until she stepped on to the plane. That’s what protocol said, anyway. For her, work began when she arrived at her departure gate. Anything that happened here wouldn’t be her responsibility, but she could still be observant and watch for suspicious behavior.
There had been great controversy several years after two air marshals failed to assist a TSA officer who was shot inside the airport and later died. The marshals involved had followed their training, which emphasized avoiding airport disturbances. They were instructed to leave all disputes to local police officers in order to maintain their anonymity. She tried not to second-guess other marshals’ decisions because it was hard to know how she would react until placed in any given situation. She always tried to follow basic human instincts, though, even if it drew attention to her. If someone needed assistance anywhere outside of a plane and she could offer it, then she would.
A man’s voice rose above the usual crowd chatter and Lucy glanced down the row of seats in front of her to locate him. The man wore gym shorts, flip-flops, and a T-shirt that barely covered his emerging stomach. His words were directed at a woman in a sundress seated beside him. She didn’t seem concerned at his tone or elevation of his voice so Lucy discarded him as a threat.
Her eyes moved next to the travelers closest to her—a gray-haired man in a business suit, a teenager in polka-dotted pants that could only be sleepwear, and a woman in jeans and cowboy boots. She often played a game of trying to determine where people were traveling to and from based on their clothing. She knew in the past there had been a dress code for flying but in the last ten years she had watched the level of what was considered appropriate drop precipitously. Now it seemed anything was acceptable.
She herself seldom wore anything other than jeans and a major league baseball shirt. She had begun collecting T-shirts representing the local team in each city she passed through and now it was kind of her trademark. Like Mason, she could put on a ball cap for quick disguises if she needed to or pull her hair into a ponytail, but the real talent of doing her job was to remain under the radar. To look like every other passenger and disappear into the background. She always carried a business suit as well in case she ended up on a back-to-back flight that might reveal or allay suspicion about her identity. She had had only a few occasions where another passenger had recognized
her. Her fake professional story for other passengers, which always centered on a job with lots of travel, usually fixed that.
She nodded at the gate agent as he scanned her ticket. The flight to LaGuardia wouldn’t take long, and she would be in Orlando for the night. She would have most of the morning to enjoy the sun and warmth and then a short flight back to Atlanta. Another hotel and then an early morning flight to Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. Sometime in the next forty-eight hours she would do some research and identify the sights she would like to see while in Paris. Over the years, she had exhausted most of the popular tourist attractions in all major cities. Now she looked for something off the beaten path. Something only a local would know about. Fortunately for her that sometimes required a local tour guide. Finding the perfect one was part of the fun.
Once in the air, she finished her usual routine of checking out the surrounding passengers and then made her trip to the restroom in the rear of the plane. Thomas Ballard, her coworker, was working a crossword puzzle in the very last row. There was no one in the single seat beside him and he gave her a nod as she passed.
When she returned to her seat, she placed her earbuds in her ears and opened her magazine. She shifted in her seat so the leather pistol holster slid comfortably into that perfect spot in the small of her back. She looked up when the flight attendant stopped beside her seat.
“The captain would like to see you,” she whispered, leaning close.
Lucy frowned. She knew this wasn’t an Eastern Airlines flight, but she couldn’t stop her heart from racing. Was Dex behind the controls of this plane? Was she being summoned by her? She stood, placing her magazine in her empty seat, and followed the flight attendant to the front of the plane. Another flight attendant slid the beverage cart across the aisle, blocking all passengers from the front of the plane.
The flight attendant knocked on the cockpit door and it opened immediately. The uniformed man ducked his head as he stepped through the door. He nodded to the flight attendant and then addressed Lucy.
“Marshal Donovan? I’m Tim.”
“Lucy’s fine.”
“Okay, Lucy. Here’s the situation. A suspicious package has been found at the gate we just pulled away from. Airport security has cleared the area and they’re waiting for the bomb-sniffing dogs to arrive.”
“Any identification on it?”
“Not yet.”
“So we’re in standby mode. Are they making us return?”
“I’m pushing not to.” He motioned toward the cockpit. “We’re both at the edge of flying time and won’t be able to depart again.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to return either, but her priority was passenger safety. Being back on the ground would allow her more options. “Can I talk with someone on the ground?”
“Sure. We’ll connect you with Captain Terry from the Atlanta Police Department. He’s the incident commander.” He turned to the flight attendant standing nearby. “Meredith, can you connect her with Captain Terry?”
“Of course.” She turned her back to them and picked up the wall phone. After a few minutes, she handed the phone to Lucy. “Captain Terry.”
“Thank you.” Lucy followed Meredith’s example and leaned forward into the wall to shield her conversation.
“Hello, Captain Terry?”
“Yes.”
“This is Lucy Donovan. I’m one of the air marshals on Flight 2406. Can you give me an update?”
“Of course. I was about to contact you. We were able to zoom in on the luggage tag with binoculars. It’s labeled as belonging to a Beatrice Meyers. My bomb squad is moving in now so I haven’t had a chance to check your manifest. I’ll call you back in a few once they clear it.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She hung up the phone and faced the captain and flight attendant. She looked at their eager faces while she considered her options.
“Can I see the flight manifest?”
“You have a name?” Tim asked.
“I do. Beatrice Meyers.”
Tim caught himself before he laughed out loud. “That’s a terrorist name if I’ve ever heard one.”
Meredith flipped through the printed pages. “Seat 31C. It’s on the aisle,” she said unnecessarily.
“Anyone else on the plane with the same last name?” Lucy asked.
“Nope. Nothing to identify anyone flying with her.”
“Or him. Keep an open mind,” Lucy reminded her.
Meredith had already prepped both carts and was clearly getting impatient to begin the drink and snack service.
Lucy continued. “Keep the cockpit blocked. I’m going to talk with my colleague, Marshal Ballard. I’ll be back in a minute. If Captain Terry calls back, let me know.”
Meredith nodded as she slid the beverage cart to the side enough for Lucy to pass. She stopped at her seat and opened the overhead compartment. She stuck her hand in her bag and pretended to be looking for something. Then she closed the compartment and headed for the restroom. She counted the rows so she didn’t have to look up at the seat tags overhead.
Beatrice Meyers appeared to be in her seventies. Her gray hair was piled on top of her head and the glasses she wore were perched at the end of her nose. She was pulling yarn from a bundle and rolling it into a ball. Her seatmate was a female and in her twenties. Thomas was still alone in the last row and didn’t even look up when she stopped in the aisle outside the restroom. She mumbled loudly about how long people took in the restroom, even though it wasn’t occupied.
“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind if I sit while I wait?” she asked Thomas.
“That’s fine,” he grunted.
She sat down beside him and leaned back in the seat, slouching down behind the seat in front of her. She leaned toward Thomas and, speaking softly, filled him in on the situation. “I’m going to pass her and then come back. I want to get her isolated now. If she comes with me without a fight, hold your position.”
“Okay. I’ll keep eyes on you. Motion if you need me.”
Lucy took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to assume this little old lady was anything but a threat to her and the safety of everyone on board. At least until she knew otherwise. She passed 31C and then turned.
“Ms. Meyers?”
The woman looked up at her with a quizzical look. “Yes, yes, I am.”
“There’s been a mistake in the seating arrangements. You’re supposed to be in first class and I’m supposed to be in your seat. The flight attendant said we should switch so their passenger list is correct.”
“Oh no, honey. You go ahead and stay up there. I don’t care where I sit.”
She shrugged. “It’s for safety reasons, you know.”
She had made a quick assumption that Beatrice wouldn’t be the type of woman to want to break the rules.
“Oh, well, in that case, I guess we better do as they asked. Which seat are you in?” Beatrice asked as she stuffed her yarn into the bag she held between her feet.
“Just follow me. I’ll show you.”
Lucy glanced behind her as she made her way to the area between business class and first class. She stopped at the boarding door and quickly closed both curtains blocking the view into the space from each cabin.
She turned and faced Beatrice, quickly pulling her badge from her pocket and holding it up. “Ms. Meyers, I’m US Air Marshal Donovan. Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Of course,” Beatrice said, blinking several times before becoming wide-eyed. “I’m very sorry. Have I done something wrong? I’ll move right now to the seat you requested.”
Ignoring her question, Lucy moved right to the matter at hand.
“What’s your final destination?”
“Little Rock, Arkansas.”
“Who are you visiting?”
“My granddaughter and her family.”
“When was the last time you visited them?”
“It’s been almost a year. Right before Christmas. Really, what have I do
ne wrong? I’ll make it right. Whatever it is?” Beatrice’s voice was starting to quiver.
“It’s okay, Ms. Meyer. I only have one more question. When was the last time you took a flight?”
“When I went to see Amy last year. She’s my granddaughter.”
Lucy stood. Instinct told her Beatrice wasn’t a terrorist trying to blow up the Atlanta airport. She didn’t want Thomas to identify himself, but protocol dictated she keep Beatrice under surveillance until the officers on the ground cleared the bag. She moved the curtain and motioned for Thomas to join her. Without introducing the two of them, she asked Beatrice to take a seat in the rear of the plane with him. Once again, Beatrice followed without asking questions.
Meredith was waiting for her when she returned and slid the cart to the side again, allowing her to pass.
“Captain Terry,” she said, handing the phone to Lucy again.
“Captain?” she asked.
“Lucy. Are you ready for this?”
She heard laughing in the background. Even though she was anxious to hear what the captain would say, she waited patiently for him to clear his throat.
“Vibrating bedroom slippers!”
“What?” Lucy asked. Not sure she had heard him correctly.
“Yep. You heard me right. We just cleared the airport for vibrating bedroom slippers.”
“Okay, Captain. Thank you for the update. We’re all clear then, right?”
“Carry on. Have a good flight.”
“Thanks.” She hung up the phone and motioned to the cockpit. “Just buzz him. He doesn’t have to come out for this.”
When Tim answered the phone, she quickly relayed the information. She could still hear him laughing as she hung up the phone. She made her way back to Thomas’s seat and knelt in front of Beatrice.