by Lyn Stone
Chapter 8
Ben's eyes opened and he frowned, still half asleep.
Maybe what woke him was that little jolt of electricity that sparked whenever they touched. He felt it, too, she knew.
Dani smiled. He tried to stretch, then gave it up when there wasn't room.
"We there yet?" His voice was rough, gravelly.
"Not yet, but I have some good news for you."
"Ah, the plane's diverted to Tahiti, where we have I a weeklong layover?"
"Even better. I called in and we now have a name for the dead perp. Ahmed Fayal, originally from Saudi Arabia. Wealthy family. Educated at Syracuse University, business degree. Five years as a U.S. citizen. No priors, not even a parking ticket."
Ben grew fully alert instantly. "That was quick. I thought it would take a lot longer since he had no wallet or papers on him. And since his fingers..."
Dani sat up straight and glared at him. "How did you know about his fingertips?" She hadn't known. Just now Mercier had told her over the phone that the pads of the robber's fingers had been smooth as glass, the whorls that made identifying prints completely absent.
Ben's gaze remained steady. "Chief Talbert mentioned it when he was interviewing me, right after he checked out the body."
"Strange, he would offer you that information. He never said a word to me about it." For that matter, neither had Ben.
"So how did they discover who he was?"
"Fayal's wife went to the police about a month ago and reported that he had disappeared. One of those 'went out for a loaf of bread and never came back' deals. She filed a police report, scared he was dead, angry he might have run out."
"Our thief matched the description of the missing husband. However, when our people tried to make contact with the wife, they found her missing, as well. Still, our boy's toe prints matched some found on the tiles in the Fayal bathroom."
Ben rubbed his chin with his fingertips, a mannerism he had used before that seemed to accompany deep thought. "Who was she?"
Dani inclined her head and gave him a sly look. "You're really asking what nationality, right?"
He made a face. "Don't say that as if I'm a racist. I just want to know what we're dealing with here."
"She's from Rhode Island, a Caucasian born and raised there. Parents were high school teachers, English and history. She and her husband met in college about ten years ago and married right after their graduation. No children. No pets. Decent portfolio and little debt. Oh, and before you ask, she worked for Persand Inc., in marketing. Fayal did, too. He was an accountant."
Ben's eyes lit with excitement. "Persand?"
Dani nodded. "So what are you thinking?" she asked.
He traced the line of his chin again and his smooth brow furrowed a little. "That everyone investigating is meant to believe Fayal was a sleeper that activated. Called up markers for multiple contributions from those who would support the jihad. Then he compiled it all, taking a hefty sum from Persand to round it out. Of course, he had his cohorts on the Cayman end ready to spirit it away."
She frowned. "You don't think that's the case now, do you?"
"Maybe Fayal thought so, but I believe somebody was running the show, running him and for another reason. Somebody who knows me."
"But the money, Ben. You still think it's going to some terrorist organization?"
"Maybe, maybe not. For safety's sake, we have to assume it is. But it bothers me that they're leaving such a clear trail. Unless..." He frowned now, the fingers on his chin halting, tapping a few times. "You can make it disappear if you convert it to something else. A private, prearranged cash purchase of something more portable that would leave no trail."
"Such as?"
He shrugged. "Stones, probably. My guess would be diamonds. If they get those safely away, they could easily turn them back into cash in Saudi, Qatar, Jordan or wherever they plan to set up for business." His thoughtful look turned to a frown of resignation. "They didn't want your people to get your hands on the funds, or to freeze them before they could convert them. But they wanted them floating around just long enough for my name to come up several times in connection with the deal."
"But why?"
"Don't know, but I'll find out."
She sighed. "I hope you know something about the diamond trade, because I know zilch."
"I know a little," he admitted.
"Do you think they'll convert it in Switzerland?"
"Assuming they go for diamonds, I'd say Amsterdam, but that's probably too obvious. The thing is, I expect they were counting on having a little time between the actual money transfer and the discovery of the missing funds by the auditors. Now they're aware we're on to them and are trying to get rid of us."
"And if they had each step lined up to happen almost instantly, our being on the trail wouldn't present any problem, would it?"
"Right," Ben said. "They might even stand back and enjoy watching us dashing around, scratching our heads and wondering how the devil they got away with it." He stroked his chin again, then tapped it thoughtfully. "It makes me wonder if they've realized who you are yet."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He shrugged, fanning his fingers. "Well, it makes no sense that they'd try to kill you if they know the feds are onto them already. What purpose would that serve? There are an endless supply of agents who would replace you and killing an agent would really set the dogs on them." He shook his head. "You weren't on the newscasts. Never mentioned you at all except as the one bank customer present. Didn't even give your name."
"I had a word with the chief about that. Low profile and all that. So who do they think we are?"
"A pissed-off banker who suspects what's up and is out to prove it. You? I don't know. My guess would be, they simply want to get rid of us as loose ends and prevent anyone going higher up with the investigation."
"I wonder if they'll have people there waiting for us when we get to Switzerland."
He settled back and closed his eyes again, his arms folded across the wide breadth of his chest. "Maybe. Unless they plan to strike before then."
Wonderful.
In Toronto, the plane landed a bit early and Dani rushed to the ticket counter and traded up for a different connecting flight. Instead of a six-hour wait, she managed to secure seats on one that was already boarding, destination Geneva.
All the while, she had been reviewing what had happened thus far. As soon as they were seated, she turned to Ben. "Fayal obviously had a partner watching your bank."
Ben nodded. "A partner who either followed us or called a contact on Grand Cayman to relate when we'd be arriving."
"You think they might go after Fontenot?"
He wore a worried expression. "Yes, I do. Could you get someone from your outfit to see if they can locate him?"
"Mercier's on it already. We'll know before we land." She glanced around surreptitiously. "You don't think we could have been followed, do you?"
Ben sat back, unfastened his seat belt and settled in for the flight. "Whoever was after us on Grand Cayman, assuming there were more than two who chased us, who are probably dead, won't know we flew out of Cayman Brac until they discover the runabout capsized."
"Probably being the keyword. What if one of the gunmen had a way to contact help after they went down?"
He frowned and sat up a little straighter.
Neither of them wanted to pursue the possibility of survivors at the moment.
He leaned back and closed his eyes. Sleep, the great escape, Dani thought with a sigh. No way would she get a wink on this flight.
She had suffered too many of her little Gypsy spells since that belated one at the bank. Worse, they had begun blending together in undulating waves of warnings. No definition. Totally useless. Maybe she ought to report that to Mercier.
Ben's hand found hers and enclosed it, his thumb gently stroking the tips of her fingers. His eyes were still closed, his smooth forehead uncreased by lines of c
oncern, his expression composed as if he hadn't a worry in the world.
"Where did you get that? Give it here!" a high-pitched voice demanded. "That is not yours, Carter! Hand it over."
Startled out of a fretful nap, Dani leaned over in the aisle and looked toward the front of the plane. Oh, she was feeling something now, big-time. Alarms were ringing in her head like Chinese gongs gone crazy.
"Is, too! Finder's keepers! It was in my pack!" a childish voice complained. "Give it back!"
A couple of seats ahead and across the aisle, she saw a woman yank something away from her seat-mate and start to examine it. It appeared to be a small laptop computer or maybe a DVD player.
Dani's heart leaped to her throat, all warnings about things smuggled into passengers' bags flew through her head at the speed of light. Danger! Danger! Danger!
She jumped up, dashed forward and snatched the object from the woman and headed directly for the back of the plane. "Marshal." She addressed a suited gentleman who was sitting in the last seat alone. "We may have a situation here."
The woman from whom she'd grabbed the object was right behind her, complaining loudly. Dani had no time for this. She turned and snapped, "Be quiet and go sit down or I'll arrest you."
The woman backed away, her hand to her mouth. "Carter didn't take that. Someone mistakenly put it in his carry-on. Please, he's not a thief! My son is���"
"Return to your seat, keep quiet and don't make me tell you again!" Dani ordered firmly. When she turned to speak to the marshal, she saw he wore a look of suspicion. His hand had disappeared beneath his jacket.
She hurriedly introduced herself. "I'm Agent Danielle Sweet with the COMPASS agency, HSA." She pulled out her badge, displayed it and tucked it away. "I happened to overhear that mother's discovery of this." She held out the mini laptop. "Might be exactly as she said and someone stuck it in the wrong bag."
"Or it might not," the marshal said, handling it gingerly. "Joseph LeFleur, Air Marshal. How did you recognize me?"
"Got that look about you," Dani said with a shrug. Plus, she'd noticed the bulge of a holstered weapon in his coat when she used the toilets earlier. "So what do you think? Ditch it in the drink to be on the safe side, right?" Get it off this plane! Now! Her mind was screaming. She could barely manage her panic, but knew she'd better not come off as hysterical or it might delay things to the point of disaster.
"Could I see it?" a deep voice said just behind her. Ben.
"Who are you?" the marshal demanded, squinting up at Ben, one hand inside his jacket again.
"My partner, Ben Michaels," Dani explained, fudging a little. "We have to get this off the plane, Ben," she said.
"I have EOD training," Ben explained. "Can I help?"
Dani stepped back as the marshal stood. She was nearly jumping up and down. "I say we eject it. We're over open water," she said, trying really hard to sound calm. "Better safe than sorry."
Ben looked at her, his gray gaze piercing. She noted new little crow's feet formed at the outer corners of his eyes. No wonder, she thought. Her own hair had probably grayed in the last five minutes. "Surely you don't think���"
"This might have absolutely nothing to do with us or the bank situation," she reminded him urgently.
"I agree we should ditch it," he said to LeFleur. His speech was more clipped than his usual drawl. "If this is rigged, it's probably triggered by opening the lid. Or maybe by cabin pressure at a certain altitude. It looks perfectly normal, but there's no way to tell without the right equipment to test it. I think Dani's right," he said to the marshal. "Let's get it off the plane."
He looked over at her. "Go forward, explain things to the crew while we jettison the thing." He turned to the marshal. "You know where to go to do that?"
"Hatch in the cargo hold," the marshal said.
"Dani?" Ben said, reaching for her hand. He gave it a comforting squeeze. Both knew there was nothing to say, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. She spoke back with hers. Wish we'd had more time. Wish we'd met under other circumstances. Wish we'd made better use of the time we had.
"Let's go!" the marshal prompted. He seemed to want it over with in a hurry now that the decision had been made.
Dani left them without a backward look and hurried forward. The passengers weren't clueless, weren't calm, either. Word had spread like a brush-fire: Bomb onboard.
"Everyone sit down and buckle up," she shouted, more to give them something seemingly positive to do than to insure their safety. If that thing exploded, they were all toast. "Stay calm. Everything's under control!" She hoped.
She scanned faces as she went forward, but she knew the one who had planted that device was not onboard.
The flight attendants huddled between first and tourist, watching her. They looked as frightened as the passengers. Suddenly she realized they were scared of her! Small wonder, the way she had come barreling up the aisle shouting orders.
Dani quickly flashed her badge. "Homeland Security," she assured them. "Please advise the cockpit crew that we have a potential explosive onboard. The marshal and my partner are disposing of it."
She grasped the arm of the nearest attendant and gave her a little shake. "Go to the cockpit and let your captain know they're about to jettison the object��� now!" Dani shoved her none too gently, then turned to the other attendants.
"Wipe the fear off your faces and calm those passengers. They're edging toward panic." She grasped the arm of the closest attendant. "Keep an eye out for anyone suspicious. You know the drill."
They hopped to it. Dani breathed a sigh of relief and started for the front of the plane.
A thunderous explosion rocked Dani off her feet and the aircraft made a sudden lurch. She hit the floor with a thud. Oh God, this was it!
Chapter 9
Screams deafened her to anything else. Dani scrambled upright expecting any second to be blown to smithereens. Not the way she had wanted to go. Better than burning alive, she reckoned. Adrenaline poured through her veins like jet fuel.
After several seconds passed, she found she was through the first-class section and at the door of the cockpit. She pounded on it, knowing they wouldn't let her in. Why would they? She could be a terrorist trying to take over.
To her surprise, it did open. The huge man who held it had a weapon pointed directly at her nose. Then she saw his uniform and realized he was one of the crew.
"Don't shoot! Agent Dani Sweet!" She gasped, thrusting her badge at his face.
He moved his head back to focus. "Joe Conger, copilot," he muttered. "You're not the marshal." He frowned at her credentials as he read them.
"No," she admitted. "LeFleur is. He and my partner were disposing of the bomb."
"You're a passenger?" He glanced past her for possible threats, then lowered the .45, one Dani knew shot slugs designed not to penetrate the aircraft and cause a loss of cabin pressure.
And speaking of pressure, that seemed stable at the moment. Things weren't flying around. Turbulence caused her to sway, but the plane itself seemed to be flying okay, and not on a downward spiral. Passengers who could scream could also breathe, and a number of them were screaming hard.
"My partner and I are on a case," she told him. "Nothing to do with this." Or so she hoped.
"Any activity in the back?" Conger asked, again peering past her down the aisle.
She knew what he meant. Had anyone stood and made demands, given any indication they were responsible for the bomb, taken any hostages?
"Someone slipped the thing into a kid's carry-on before he boarded. How bad was the damage, can you tell yet? Can you bring us down safely?" Dani asked.
He sighed, shaking his head. "Detonation was right outside the plane. Close. Portions of the landing gear were damaged, and pressure in the hold is screwed."
He wiped his brow with his forearm and backed inside the cockpit. "There's either a hatch still open or part of the bay's floor is missing."
Dani's heart
skipped. Ben was down there, injured, unable to breathe���or gone through that hole in the cargo bay and down to the North Atlantic.
She couldn't let herself think of that. They had a plane full of passengers to get on the ground.
"Can we turn around and make land?" Dani asked, trying to focus on the passengers, the condition of the plane, anything but her terror over Ben's fate.
"Closer to make for Iceland," the copilot told her. "We've already radioed for clearance."
All right, there was nothing else she could do here. "I need to see about the marshal and my partner." Dani stopped for a second to catch her breath and get her imagination in hand. "They went down to cargo to get rid of the bomb. At least they got it outside the plane before it blew. If the pressure's dropped down there���"
"Let's go," the copilot said abruptly. "Come on. There's no telling what the blast did." He swallowed hard. "Or if they even survived it."
Dani prayed all the way. They entered a small elevator that lowered them to the belly of the aircraft. The air there was arctic. And thin. The noise was deafening.
Nearby, LeFleur lay on his back with a massive head wound. Dani began to pray again before she heard a voice.
"Help me cover the hole!" Ben shouted, struggling with an enormous storage container.
Dani and the copilot added their weight to the metal container and managed to slide it over a gaping three foot aperture that looked straight down into the clouds.
The copilot motioned toward the elevator. Individually they ascended. Gathering in the service area, they leaned against the walls to catch their breath.
"Will that weight over the hole work?" Ben gasped.
"Hope so," the copilot said. "What happened to the marshal?"
Ben clenched his eyes shut and grimaced. "He dropped the device out and was closing the small hatch when the bomb blew, shredding the edges of the aluminum. The metal door caught him in the head as it blew off the hinges. Everything went to hell then. I could see sky. Thought that hole might continue to rip if I didn't get it closed up."