by Ivy Nelson
Adara glanced at her group number. D. For dead last.
The process went quickly enough, and the agent only had to remind people twice not to get in line if their group hadn’t been called. When they got to D, Adara was ready to go. She smiled at the TSA agent as she handed him her ID and boarding pass. They scanned both. Instead of turning green, the light stayed red. Adara’s heart rate picked up. Probably just a glitch. They scanned the pass again. Still red. They studied the monitor intently. One of the TSA agents and the gate agent asked her to step aside so they could continue the inspection. It’s probably just because I bought my ticket so last minute, Adara told herself.
A third member of the TSA joined them. He was wearing a suit. That couldn’t be good.
“Miss Kent, could you come with me?” the man in the suit asked. The small bubble of panic that formed exploded in Adara’s stomach.
This was bad. “What seems to be the problem?”
“It would be better if we spoke in private. And it would be best if you came quietly, Miss Kent,” the man said with a stern gaze.
She nodded and followed the two agents. Her legs felt like rubber and she stumbled in her heels as she tried to keep up. It may not have been wise to wear them, but she was trying to appear like a woman on a business trip, not a woman on the run from…whatever she was running from.
The agents placed her in a room and asked her to wait while they got their supervisor. They still wouldn’t tell her what the problem was. Sweat was dampening her blouse and she pulled out her cellphone and flipped to Michael’s number. She stared at it repeating the number over and over again in case they took her phone. Normally, her first call would have been to Bradley, but he was in Italy. Her next best bet was Michael. As much as she hated to admit it, he might be a better call than Bradley anyway. He was a police officer after all.
What felt like hours later, someone came in to talk to her. She didn’t let them finish their introduction.
“You want to tell me what the hell this is about? I’ve missed my flight and you’re going to make me miss a very important meeting in Canada,” she lied, hoping she sounded confident and pissed off.
“I do apologize, Miss Kent. Or should I say, Miss Hadawi?” The man eyed her carefully, gauging her reaction as he spoke.
Confusion filled her. Hadawi? “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she said truthfully. Why would he think her name was Hadawi?
The man slid a folder in her direction. She scanned the document it held. It was an alert that someone named Adara Hadawi, with ties to an internationally wanted terrorist named Faisal Hadawi, was leaving the U.S. for Canada. Adara shook her head. Were they saying she was related to this monster? Surely not. This hardly seemed real.
She stuck to her guns.
“There must be some mistake. I’m Adara Kent, plain and simple.”
The man didn’t look convinced. He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “We have some questions ma’am. The tip we received was very credible. While it is true you’ve never come up on our radar before, we have to follow this lead and make sure you’re not connected to a terrorist organization.”
It hit her then. Whoever was watching her had orchestrated this because they knew she wasn’t following their instructions. Well, they certainly had a flair for the dramatic.
“Jesus Christ. Until four months ago, I worked for Senator Sean Atleigh. You really think I could be a part of a terrorist organization while working for a sitting senator? She didn’t bother hiding her incredulity.
“I’ve seen crazier things, Miss Kent. May I see your identification please?”
Her fingers trembled as she handed him her passport and D.C. driver’s license.
“Born in Arizona?” the man asked.
She rattled off her date of birth, Social Security number, and the city she was born in. Technically, if what her parents told her was true, the city of birth was a lie, but on paper that’s where she had been born. There was no way she could admit that bit of information. She just hoped he didn’t see the panic in her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her nerves.
“Am I under arrest? I still don’t understand what is going on here. My name is Adara Kent. I’ve never heard of this ‘Faisal’ person and I can assure you I have nothing to do with a terrorist organization. There must be some mistake.”
“You’re not being charged with anything yet, but we are detaining you.”
“Then I would like to make a private phone call please.”
The agent stood and headed for the door. “Be my guest.”
She pulled out her cell. A text was waiting for her.
Maybe next time you’ll follow our instructions.
With shaky fingers, she tapped her way to Michael’s number and waited as it rang.
“Adara?” There was surprise and perhaps a bit of hope in his voice when he answered.
“Michael. I need you,” she whispered.
Chapter Three
Shit
This was not good. Michael had no idea how he was going to get Adara out of this sticky mess. None of what she had blurted out on the phone made sense, but he knew he had to get to her quickly. He grabbed the go bag he always kept packed—a habit from his undercover days—and headed to the airport. A quick check online told him there was a seat on a flight leaving in just over an hour. He could make it if traffic didn’t screw him.
Forty-five minutes later he was at the airport in the ticket line. He paid for the ticket to Chicago and made a dash for the security checkpoint. The line was slow, and his flight was boarding in fifteen minutes. It would be a miracle if he made it on time.
Thankfully, miracles do happen, and they delayed the boarding process. Maybe that didn’t actually count as a miracle, but Michael was thankful, nonetheless. Twenty minutes later, he settled into his first-class seat—it was the only kind of ticket left.
“Hang in there, Adara,” he said out loud as the plane took off. He had no idea what he was going to do when he got there, but if he could get her released into his custody, she could at least explain what the hell was going on, and they could make a plan from there.
When the plane landed in Chicago, he tried to call her cell phone. It went straight to voicemail. Airport signs pointed him to the main security office where he explained that he was a police officer there to pick up a witness who had been detained. It was a lie. One that could cost him his job, but damn it, he didn’t care right now. After she brushed him off last night, he had been convinced something was wrong. Now his suspicions were confirmed. Even if she had really wanted to end things with him, that is not how she would have done it. Luckily, his badge was enough to get him in touch with the Homeland Security agents questioning her.
“Detective Silas, what is the nature of your case involving Miss Kent?” one of them asked.
“That’s confidential. But she is a key witness in a case I’m working and without her testimony a criminal will be put back on the street.”
“We’ll need to confirm that with your chief,” the agent said.
Thank God for his recent promotion.
“I am the chief.” He pulled up the D.C. Metropolitan Police website and prayed it had been updated. Thankfully, HR was on top of things and his face was under the title Chief of Special Investigations. “As a chief in the D.C. Metropolitan Police, I think I have a right to detain this witness and question her. She will remain in my custody and you are free to interrogate her in D.C. if necessary.” He spoke with all the authority he could muster, and prayed Homeland wouldn’t put in a call to the Chief of Police or the mayor of D.C.
Luck was on his side. They needed to get Adara out of the airport and him taking custody seemed like a pretty good deal to them.
“If you’ll come with me Chief, we’ll have you sign the necessary paperwork to take Miss Kent into custody.”
Once the paperwork was signed, Michael was escorted to the room where they were holdin
g Adara. When he walked in, he took on a professional demeanor and spoke before she could.
“Miss Kent, you’ve been released into my custody pending a formal interrogation by Homeland Security. I’ll be escorting you back to D.C. so you can testify in the case in which you are a witness in.”
To her credit, Adara managed to keep the confusion off her face and only nodded her agreement.
“If you’ll come with me, we’ll be driving back to D.C.” He kept his tone even but inside he was itching to get out of this room as fast as he could. The look on the Homeland agent’s face told him he was out for blood. In Michael’s experience, a law enforcement officer with a bone to pick was never a good thing. The quick glimpse he got at the folder on the table told him this was a very serious matter, and Adara was in deep shit. They needed to get out of here and start figuring out what the hell they were going to do.
“Driving?” Adara questioned as she stood. “Isn’t there a flight we can take?”
Michael simply shook his head.
“Can I at least get my bag? The TSA agent kept it when they detained me.”
Michael turned to the Homeland agent with a questioning glare that sent the man scurrying to check on the bag.
When the door was shut and they were alone, Michael whirled on Adara and hissed, “Jesus Christ, Adara. What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?”
The poor girl looked like she was about to burst into tears. “I don’t know. I mean, maybe I have an idea? I don’t know. It’s a long, complicated story.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing we have a long drive ahead of us.”
Just then the agent returned with her bag, and Michael rushed them out of there as fast as he could.
“Slow down, Michael. I’m wearing heels,” Adara whined behind him. He turned to find that she was falling behind.
“Sorry. I just want to get you out of here before they change their minds about releasing you to me.”
A few minutes later, they were standing in line at the Hertz rental counter where Michael rented a compact car for their drive back to D.C.
“I don’t understand what just happened,” Adara said when they were pulling out of the parking structure.
“I saved you from going through a damn Homeland interrogation. Terrorism? Really, Adara? Do you know what kind of trouble you’re in right now? If I’m going to be able to help you, then you need to start talking. Right now.”
Next to him, he felt her tense. He was being harsh, and he knew it. But he had to get to the bottom of this quickly. Ties to terrorism was nothing to laugh at, and while he couldn’t imagine Adara having anything to do with a terrorist organization, Homeland didn’t mess around. Even being suspected of having terrorist ties could cause them to throw the book at a person. And Homeland’s book was a lot bigger and a lot heavier than your average law enforcement officer’s. If he was going to have any chance of saving her, she had to tell him everything she knew. Reaching across the console, he put a hand on her shoulder.
“I know I sound like a dick right now, Angel. But you really have to tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”
She took a shaky breath.
“I’m not sure where to start. It’s a long story. But for me, it started eight years ago.”
• • •
Adara closed her eyes and mentally prepared herself to tell the difficult story.
“I’ve always known I was born in Israel. My parents are Jewish and were there on vacation. My mom went into labor early and here I am. At least, I thought that’s what happened. About eight years ago, I was preparing to take the position of chief of staff for Senator Sean Atleigh.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t that Bradley’s job?”
Adara nodded as she stared out the window at highway signs whizzing by. “It was. That’s where this gets complicated.”
“OK. Keep going. I’m listening,” Michael said as he changed lanes.
“I came home for a few days before I was officially going to accept the job. I wanted to share the good news with my parents. Instead of being elated for me, they asked me not to take the job. I was so confused. My dad sat me down and told me that there may be some questions about my birth and that I might not legally be a U.S. citizen. I was shocked and mystified. I had no clue what was going on. I asked them to explain but they insisted that it was too dangerous for them to tell me more and that I should trust them. They had always discouraged my involvement in politics but had never really said why. I assumed it was because they were apolitical.”
Michael reached across the console and gripped her hand.
“So just like that you gave up the job you wanted to become the behind-the-scenes assistant?” he questioned.
“Not quite. I was angry with my parents for not telling me exactly what was going on. I threatened to go to the police. That’s when they told me that I wasn’t actually their biological baby. According to them, their baby died, and they took me from another woman who didn’t want her baby but wanted it to grow up in America. I started asking questions, demanding answers, but they wouldn’t tell me anything. They just said that if the federal government ever found out the truth, I would be kicked out of the country. They insisted that I needed to avoid anything that would give the media an excuse to dig into my background.” She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the cold glass. It was difficult to talk about this, and after today, she wasn’t sure how much of what her parents told her was true.
“Jesus, Angel. That’s insane. Why did you decide to run for office if you’re supposed to be avoiding the media?”
“After Sean Atleigh resigned, the media started digging into everyone who worked closely with him. I was the chief of staff’s personal assistant. It stood to reason that they would dig into me. At first, I avoided the media but then I thought, why not let them? I have legal paperwork that proves I’m an American citizen. I think my parents are just being paranoid. So, I gave the media access. I did interviews. I put my communications degree to work. When the media didn’t dig up anything negative on me, I figured that meant my parents were being overly cautious. I felt safe to take the leap and follow my dreams.”
Michael nodded. “That makes sense. What doesn’t make sense, is why you ran or how Homeland Security got wind of you.”
“That doesn’t make sense to me either. But that wrong number that was texting me the day of the wedding turned out to not be a wrong number. While I was in the bathroom at Exposure, I got a phone call from someone demanding that I fly to the Israeli Embassy in Los Angeles. I wasn’t sure why, but they knew about me not being born here and that my parents weren’t really my parents. They made threats by name to you, Bradley, and Darci. I couldn’t risk that, but there was no way I was going to Israel. I have a friend in Canada who offered to help me disappear, so I was headed there to take them up on it.”
Adara could see the hurt on his face. It would make sense that he would want her to come to him with these kinds of problems.
“I guess they are watching me, because while I was being interviewed by TSA, I got a text saying that maybe next time I would listen to them and follow instructions.”
Michael squeezed her shoulder and she relaxed into his touch. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this. I wish you would have come to me instead of running. It would have been easier to figure this out without Homeland being involved.”
Adara closed her eyes. “If I had known this was going to happen, I would have thought twice about running. How did they know I wasn’t going to Los Angeles?”
“Chances are, they have someone watching for your name to pop up on flight manifests. At the point that you booked a ticket to Canada, they were pretty sure you didn’t intend to go to Los Angeles.”
That made sense. She just didn’t understand how they were able to access flight records like that. Michael continued. “Speaking of Canada, why did you go to Chicago first? Wouldn’t a direct flight have been better?”
“I don’t know. I just figured I should jump around a bit just in case I was being followed.”
“Christ, Angel. This is quite the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. I’ll be honest, now that Homeland is on your trail, there is a good chance they are going to try to deport you.”
Adara felt panic rise in her throat. “Deport me? To where? I’ve never even been to Israel. I came here when I was something like eight days old.”
“The fact that you sat on the knowledge of your birth story and citizenship status is going to make you look like you’re hiding something more sinister. I believe you’re not, but they won’t see it that way. When we get back to D.C. I’m going to do some digging and see what they have. If they just have a tip from someone, with no paper trail, we might be able to clear this mess up quickly. But if they have anything concrete regarding your birth, we are going to have a tough road ahead of us. I’d like to call in a friend of mine. You met him at the wedding and club. Do you trust me?”
They may not have known each other long, but she trusted him implicitly and told him as much. Now that she had told him her story, it felt good to know he would do everything in his power to help her.
When they stopped for the night, Michael checked them into a hotel. “We’re sharing a room. No arguments. I got two beds though because after yesterday I don’t know where we stand, and I’m not the type to assume things. But you’re in my custody legally, so we are sharing a room.”
She smiled. “I appreciate you not assuming anything. I like you, Michael, but with all this shit going on, I think it’s best if we keep things simple and not complicate it with sex.” To Adara’s eye, he looked slightly disappointed, but to his credit he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just unlocked the room and carried their bags inside.