They followed Felipe back to the warehouse to a dark green late model Taurus. “Your bags and equipment are in the trunk. The keys are in the ignition.”
“Thanks again, Felipe. I’ll be seeing you,” John said.
“You know it. You be careful. Caitlin, it was nice meeting you. Don’t worry; John is as good as they come.”
“Really? Thank you, that’s good to hear.”
Felipe slapped John on the back. “Don’t make me out a liar, John.”
“Wouldn’t think of it.”
Caitlin climbed into the passenger side of the front seat. John got in, cranked the car, and pulled out of the warehouse without a backward glance.
CHAPTER 21
The Oakland airport was shrouded in a light mist from low clouds when they reached the short-term parking lot. A chill breeze flowed in from the bay bringing the scent of salt with it. Caitlin shivered and pulled on her coat when she stepped out into the mist.
John already had the trunk open when she reached the rear of the car. She watched as he moved some things from one bag to another, then he bent low over the trunk and pulled a handgun from beneath his coat. As she watched, he popped the magazine out, ejected a round from the chamber, and then stored the gun in what looked like a metal tool chest. A couple more magazines appeared in his hands from various pockets, and they were pushed down into the case too. He covered the gun and magazines with a padding of dense foam.
Then he lifted his right pants leg and drew an enormous knife from the top of his boot.
“What, no brass knuckles?”
He looked at her, his brows raised in curiosity.
“Thanks for the reminder,” he said and dipped his right hand into a coat pocket. It emerged a second later with a thick set of matte finished brass knuckles. He added them to the case, locked it, and lifted the bags from the trunk.
Caitlin picked up her bag. “Can you carry a gun on the plane?”
John tossed the car keys into the trunk and slammed it shut. “No, not into the passenger compartment, but you can carry one in your checked luggage.”
They walked toward the terminal. Caitlin noticed John was looking for something. Did he really think that someone might have gotten there before them?
“It used to be that you could just check your weapons and not worry about them. Nowadays they run a random percentage of all bags through a bomb detector, and some can even detect the chemicals in the bullets. There’s a civil penalty for not notifying the airlines of any weapons you’re checking.”
“Really? It’s that simple?”
“Simple? When you tell them you have weapons in your checked luggage, they mark the bag. Anyone in baggage handling can spot those bags. Guns bring a good price on the streets.”
“Gees, then why mark the bags? Isn’t that just asking for them to be stolen?”
“Yeah, but they’ll tell you they need the bags marked so fireman or rescue personnel can spot dangerous items. This is at the same time they tell you that flying is the safest way to travel. That there are fewer accidents in flying than any other form of transportation.”
“Then it doesn’t make a lot of sense to say that they have to know where hazardous materials are.”
“Exactly. If I were more paranoid, I’d think it’s some form of organized effort to identify people who carry weapons. It wasn’t a big deal when they didn’t ask for ID to board a plane, but now you can’t just buy a cash ticket and get on a flight. You have to provide identification. It wouldn’t take much for the government to identify everyone in the country who had carried firearms on a flight and where they had gone. Once you are identified a computer program could just as easily track all of your movement from then on.”
“But what would be the purpose?”
“Purpose? Hell, who can ever follow the government’s purpose in anything? Besides, I’m not saying they do track honest citizen’s movements. I’m just saying that it’s possible and if I was more paranoid, then I’d think they were doing it.”
“Are you trying to give me the impression that you’re understandably paranoid?” Caitlin asked.
They reached the main terminal and crossed into the building.
“Yeah, I guess so. Look, while we’re in here, I want you to try to ignore what’s been happening. Relax, make cheerful noises, tell me a few old jokes, and above all don’t give the impression that you’re looking around as if searching for cops.”
“Don’t look for them or don’t give that impression?”
“Don’t give the impression. If you want to look around, look at the building, the advertisements, the strange people. Act like a tourist, but maintain the patter, the smiles, the chuckles.”
“What’s that get me?”
“If you were looking for someone on the run would you expect them to be carrying on as if they’re on vacation?”
Caitlin gave his question a moment’s thought and shook her head. “No, I don’t guess I would.”
“Right and neither would anyone else. Most fugitives look the part. That’s what a watcher will be looking for.”
John indicated a row of chairs near the overhead monitors that announced arrivals and departures. “Here, let’s sit down over here for a minute.”
They set the bags down, and John took some folded papers from a jacket pocket. He looked at them for a moment, then handed them to Caitlin, and pointed at a line.
Confused, she looked at where he was pointing. It was the menu from the restaurant where they’d met Squeeze.
“It just gives us something to look at and look like tourists. There’s our flight number. It’s on time. We’ve got about an hour. I haven’t spotted any obvious watchers, but that doesn’t mean anything. They could have passed photos out to all the ticket counters.”
“But didn’t Felipe say the warrants were only on the police lines?” Caitlin asked.
“Yeah, but that wouldn’t stop them from passing out photos at all the airports and bus terminals and such. They aren’t as likely to have their own agents out here. There are just too many airports and too many travelers for anything less than a small army to cover. They’d have to stake out the San Francisco, San Jose, and even Sacramento airports too. They’re all easy to reach from the Bay Area.”
“I guess it’s not something I’d ever given any thought.”
“There was no reason to. That’s one of the reasons most criminals get caught. They never give it any thought either. Come on, let’s check these bags, and move past security. We can wait in one of the lounges.”
They carried their bags to the West Pac desk, waited a few minutes in line and then John stepped to the desk and identified them. Caitlin stood behind John and placed her left hand lightly on his shoulder, while the attendant checked their reservations. Caitlin noticed that the short hairs at the back of John’s neck formed silver dollar sized whorls. She tickled the short hairs lightly.
The attendant asked for their identification, and they each produced their new driver’s license and handed them across the counter. The man took a careful look at each picture and went back to his computer screen. As he printed out the tickets, Caitlin returned the license to her bag and then wrapped both her arms around John’s right arm and rested her cheek against his shoulder.
“Are these your only bags?”
“Yes, that’s all,” John said.
He gave them the normal routine of questioning that determined they hadn’t allowed some stranger in a turban and carrying a bomb to help pack their bags, then finished the check-in and passed John the tickets. Caitlin thanked him politely and continued to hold John’s arm as they walked toward the security check in.
As they stepped onto the escalator, Caitlin dropped her hand down to hold his. “I thought you were going to declare that you had a firearm.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Why, your speech about how they can track people carrying firearms and all that. What happens if they have one of the newer m
odel detectors in the luggage area?”
“The case I put the gun in is special. It has dense pockets that disguise its true contents from x-rays, and it is hermetically sealed. Odors can’t escape it and don’t cling to its exterior.”
She chuckled lightly and said, “Is there anything you haven’t planned for?”
“Well, the wings could still fall off the plane.”
“That’s not funny,” Caitlin said.
“By the way, that was good back there.”
“What was?”
“The way you played with my hair.”
“Really? You liked it?”
“Yeah, that added a good touch of authenticity. It gave us credibility as a married couple.”
With some effort, Caitlin kept the irritability she felt from showing in her voice. “Oh? I’m glad you approve.”
They reached security and queued up behind the other flyers.
“Caitlin, just to be safe, take your phone out and keep your eyes on it except when the guard checks your ticket, and then only look directly at him.”
“Why? What’s wrong now?”
“This airport has installed face recognition software, and if we’re programmed into the system, the computer will spot us a second after it sees our faces.”
“I thought that was what the wigs and stuff were for.”
“It’ll help against the guards, but not against the computer. We didn’t have a choice about coming here, and I’m thinking that they haven’t had time to load our images into the local system.”
“You think? That’s not encouraging. I thought you had this all worked out.”
“I know it’s a risk, but what isn’t. They’ve only been looking for you for a couple of days, and unless they were really on the ball, they wouldn’t have programmed in our faces.”
They reached the front of the line, showed their tickets and were allowed through. A light breeze fluffed her wig as they passed through the detectors. They failed to activate the sensors.
As they made their way down the corridor to the gate, John took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. “That should do. If the computer had our faces, we would already be under arrest.”
“Does that mean that I can stop acting like we’re married?”
“Huh? Well, no, I wouldn’t go so far as that. Can’t be too careful.”
“Since you seem to know everything about their security, why is there a breeze when you go through the metal detectors?”
“Breeze? Oh, I barely noticed it. It’s the air samplers. The newer detectors draw air across your body and sample it for chemical or biological agents.”
“Oh, I guess that’s a good thing.”
“Certainly, it keeps anyone from smuggling explosives or darn near anything onto a plane.”
John led her to seats near an emergency exit, and they watched the gate until their flight was announced. When Caitlin started to rise, John took her wrist and pulled her back down. “There’s no rush. We’ll wait until the final boarding call.”
“What now?” she asked.
“It’ll give us a better opportunity to notice anything that happens. Once on the plane, we’d have a difficult time escaping.”
“Escaping what? You said no one spotted us and you’ve gone to a lot of trouble not to leave any traceable path.”
“No path is untraceable. It’s just a matter of making it a difficult path to follow. Something could still have gone wrong, a check of travelers; for all we know the real Robert and Charlotte Owens could be boarding a flight today also. Then a computer check of travelers would show that one of those couples is bogus and the next thing we’d know your friend Holdren would be pulling us off the plane.”
“That’s not ... all right. It’s possible, but what are the odds of that happening? There has to be a lot of people with that name in the Bay Area. Just because two couples with similar names happen to book flights on the same day shouldn’t flag anyone’s search program.”
John shook his head. “You forget that this isn’t a case of the same name. It’s the exact name, and we’re traveling as a couple. I should have planned better and used unrelated names. As long as the airlines are confirming identities, then they can also be confirming addresses with DMV on each person traveling. It wouldn’t take much to cross reference all the travelers with DMV records.”
“But the attendant didn’t look at our licenses long enough to copy down an address.”
“No, but what if he’d already called up all the Robert and Charlotte Owens in the files. It would only take a second to confirm an address.”
Caitlin stared at him for a few seconds and then shook her head. “John, you are just too paranoid.”
“Maybe, but we’ll still wait ‘til final boarding is announced.”
There wasn’t any point in arguing with him. His mind was made up, and besides, she had gone to him for help. She needed to let him do things the way he thought they should be done. He was the one with the experience, not she. It made her wonder. Just what kind of experiences had he encountered? He talked about security, and he mentioned serving in the military, but what else had he been doing over the last decade or so. Felipe had implied that he helped people escape the law. Did he work for organized crime, the Mafia or whatever they called it these days? And were they true felons or just someone like herself who was caught up in events beyond her control? She needed to find out what was in the file Scott had sent her. Since it didn’t look like Louie was going to be able to decrypt the file, assuming he was still alive, then she would have to deduce the password Scott may have used.
What common item would he have used? Something from their past? Perhaps he’d used a location or a friend’s name? But where? Who?
Caitlin was still thinking over possible passwords when John nudged her elbow and broke her train of thought. “Come on, that’s the final boarding call.”
They walked casually toward the gate. Caitlin looped an arm around John’s again and made chattering noises about the weather and the skiing in Colorado.
At the gate, an attendant scanned their boarding passes and identification, and then wished them a pleasant flight.
The plane was a Boeing, either a 767 or 777, Caitlin thought. It appeared to be only about two-thirds full, and they were lucky enough to get two seats alone in a bulkhead row just ahead of the port wing. John stepped past the seats, waited for her to slide in, and then took the middle seat.
She slipped her bag under the seat in front of her and gazed out the window at the rain swept tarmac. There was no sign of flashing blue lights, no unmarked cars sliding to a stop next to the plane, no sign of anything out of the ordinary. But what was ordinary? Should two men still be unloading baggage? What was the man with the funny looking flashlights doing? For once Caitlin wished she’d paid more attention at all the other flight preparations she’d ignored over the years. Normally she’d be engrossed in a novel or working on a proposal at this stage of a flight.
She heard a sound near the front of the plane and looked up, half expecting to see Holdren.
John placed a hand on hers, and his voice was soft, “That’s the door closing. I guess we made it.”
Her skin was warm where his lay against hers. She turned her head, and his lips were scant inches from hers. While his face was rough and scarred, his lips looked as firm and tender as they had been that time she had kissed them all those years ago. Without conscious volition, she leaned toward him. To her surprise, he turned away, as if he hadn’t noticed her movement.
For a moment, embarrassment locked her throat. Then she cleared it and spoke as softly as he had, “John, I want to thank you again. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t helped.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Caitlin hesitated, unsure of how to phrase the question. She leaned closer to John and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Felipe mentioned something about the type of people you’ve helped before. Just what is it that you do?�
�
With a half nod, he said, “I do a fair impression of Abraham Lincoln imitating George Washington.”
“No, seriously.”
He grinned boyishly. “Another time. Some things shouldn’t be discussed in public.”
“All right, but I’m going to hold you to that.”
In a few minutes, they were airborne, and Caitlin watched the rain-shrouded bay disappear below the low clouds. They broke out into late afternoon sunlight. The plane banked to the right, and the sun disappeared aft. For a short time, Caitlin watched the undercast that stretched as far as her eye could see, then gave it up, and closed her eyes.
***
John got a Samuel Adams from the flight attendant, waved off the offered glass, and sipped from the bottle. Beside him, Caitlin dozed. He studied her and wondered about the feelings he’d once felt for her. What had it been that attracted him to her back then? Her looks? She was attractive, even with the skin-lightening makeup and the red wig; her natural beauty was still visible. So many years. She’d been the last great love of his life. He’d had a few crushes before her, but none after and none of the others had drawn him with the inescapable pull that she had. For less than two weeks, so long ago, he had spiraled around her. Growing closer and closer until, like a meteor caught in a gravity well, he had burned himself out against her love for Scott.
Now Scott was gone, and she was back in his life. Was there any way he could find that love again?
He took another sip from the bottle and leaned his head back. There were more important things to consider. Mama Squeeze would keep the Feds off them for a week or so, but then they’ll realize their prey was no longer in the Bay Area, and by then John would have to be ready. Ready for the NCIX, the other Feds, the Japanese businessmen, and this Frenchman. What was in that thumb drive? It held the key. They would have to decrypt it if they were to have a chance.
That brought up Louie. He had to do something about Louie, perhaps drop a line to his contacts in CHAOS. If it was the NCIX that had him Louie could handle it, but if it was Holdren’s group. Well, in that case, it might already be too late to help Louie.
The Phoenix Egg Page 21