“Tape recordings?”
“Wire taps.”
Everybody looked at Hal.
“Yes, I’ve recorded my contacts so far,” said Hal.
Sally gasped.
“Yeah, I was wearing a wire when we talked,” Hal admitted glancing at Sally.
Sally blanched.
Everyone looked at Sally.
“And you?” asked Caroline. “Have you recorded your meetings with Edward and the teenage girl?”
Sally shook her head, horrified.
“How about pictures? Smart phone records?”
“No, nothing,” Sally bowed her head.
“How are we going to prove that Sally was operating under instructions from the Lobby Cell?”
“My paychecks from them, maybe?” offered Sally.
“Did you keep copies?”
“No.”
“No problem. We can examine the bank records.”
“Is that enough?”
“We’ll need more proof that Sally actually gets her orders from Edward, who gets them from the Lobby Cell.”
Everyone nodded.
Sally started to tremble and feel faint. She lowered her head on the table.
“I’ll help you,” said Hal under his breath as he took her hand under the table. “Hang on, honey. You’re going to be all right.”
~~~~~
The Usual Table
Later that morning, Sally sat at her usual table at the airport cafeteria where she and Edward met. Sally had been able to get a last-minute assignment on flight 1715 to Dallas. Likewise, Hal had a ticket in first-class. They had rushed to the airport, by helicopter.
Hal explained that he would have a team of FBI undercover agents positioned nearby her table, surrounding her, their cameras ready to capture the encounter from every angle, as well as three audio recording devices planted so as to capture the voices.
Sally had no reason to doubt him, but she had her cell phone ready to record as a backup. Sally looked around nervously, trying to spot the FBI agents. They must be well hidden as everyone was walking by without stopping. Where was Hal? She couldn’t see him. Surely he was there somewhere.
Would Edward show up? Sally thought she had his email address, from previous correspondence. It was her only way to contact him. Would the ruse work?
Sally waited, glancing nervously at her watch. Where was he? She struggled to eat something from her plate, the food causing a lump in her throat. Reaching for her water glass, she jumped when a chair scraped.
“Miss Millecan,” said Edward.
“Edward!” she exclaimed.
“Keep your voice down, Miss Millecan,” he chided her.
“Oh, sorry.”
“And now what is so important that you called me away from my job on short notice?”
Sally’s mind drew a blank. “W-Well… uh… I thought you would want to know.”
“Know what? Your job is to pass messages, nothing more.”
“Uh... well, people don’t always act the way you expect.”
“What do you mean by that?”
Sally was thinking fast, “Well, part of my job before was to get acquainted with the first-class passengers who worked for certain aircraft manufacturers, you know.”
Edward raised one eyebrow. “I don’t think you were told to go too far.”
“Well, it just so happened that this one guy, Harold Brown was very friendly with me, and we… uh… went on some… d-dates, you know?”
“Dates?”
“Well, I’ve always been told that what I was doing for your company was perfectly legal and honest, totally on the up and up. Well, isn’t it?”
“Never mind that. What about Harold Brown?”
“Well, when your company selected him as their target person, it worked out perfectly because we already had a relationship, you know?”
“Actually, I don’t know.”
Sally fidgeted with the clasp on her handbag. She prayed Hal’s recording was working. “What don’t you know?”
“I don’t know how this information will affect our plans.”
“What plans?”
“Our company has plans concerning the aircraft. You don’t need to know,” he said, haughtily.
“I see. Well, then, if you are in on the plans, that’s all I need to know. I mean they trust you, and I trust you. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“Somehow I got the impression that you were just a messenger boy, like me.”
“Message boy! No way. I am a very important member of the organization. I am in on all the planning.”
“Oh,” said Sally. “In that case, I guess you have the authority to approve my relationship with Harold.”
Edward sputtered. “There will be no ‘relationship’ as you people in the West call it. You will deliver messages, that is all.”
“B-but Edward, there already is a relationship. Harold and I are… in love.”
“Nonsense, love is for Hollywood. Forget that silliness.”
Sally opened her purse to get out a handful of tissue, taking a second to finger the record button on her telephone. She worked up some real tears and then turned to Edward with brimming eyes. She buried her face in the tissues.
Edward quietly slipped a gun out of his pocket, laid it on the table and covered it with a large handkerchief. He pulled on a pair of slim leather gloves, and glared at Sally. Casually picking up the gun he growled, “You are coming with me, Miss Millecan.”
Sally looked up and sniffed.
“Yes madam, this is a gun. Come along quietly or I will shoot.”
“You can’t do that!” Sally looked around frantically.
“Don’t expect your friend Harold to save you, my dear.”
Sally gaped at him and turned white. “What have you done with him?”
“No need, my dear. Mr. Brown is one of us. Come along.” He grimaced showing his teeth.
Slowly, Sally arose from her chair, hoping her rubbery legs wouldn’t give way. Picking up her purse, she stood, gripping her chair with one hand.
“This way, my dear.” Edward motioned toward the closest entrance. Sally turned and headed the way she thought he wanted her to go. At one point she hesitated. She felt the gun in her back.
Edward said nothing. From time to time he urged her onward with a jab to her ribs. Where is Hal? Could Edward be telling the truth? Was Hal a traitor? Dear God, help me.
They reached an entrance with automatic doors. Edward pushed her through, grabbed her arm and propelled her toward a dark SUV idling at the curb. A man leaped out and opened the back door. Together he and Edward shoved Sally toward the car. Sally stumbled and fell, halfway in. She felt rough hands pick her up and shove her down on the seat. The door slammed shut. She heard more doors open and close and the car took off. I can’t believe this is happening. Dear God. Sally tried to scream and raise herself up. Hands shoved her down and stuffed a gag into her mouth. She felt her arms being pulled out of their sockets behind her and something snapped. She tugged on her arms. They wouldn’t come loose. Dear God, where are you? Every nerve in her body was screaming.
Sally tried to move her head so she could see something—anything. Suddenly a black cloth covered her entire face. Oh God!
She heard men’s voices but couldn’t make out any of it. What were they jabbering? Nothing made sense. It was a lot of sounds jumbled together. And then she heard a shrill woman’s voice cut through, “Quiet!” Immediately there was silence. Sally could hear the tires humming on the pavement and traffic noise outside. The car stopped. Was it a traffic light? After a minute she heard car-horns honking and engines starting up. They were moving again. She tried to figure out their position. Occasionally it felt like they were turning, as her body swayed one way or the other. Maybe they were going uphill. A ramp, maybe? And then she could hear the car pick up speed. Could be they were on the Beltway. Oh God. She fainted.
Sally slammed awake when rough hands pulled
on her legs and others shoved her head. Car doors opened and closed. Bodies and feet made sounds. More running footsteps.
“Hold it right there!” screamed a male voice. “FBI! Drop your weapons!” A shot rang out followed by repeating fire. In seconds it was over.
Sally could feel her limp body being dragged by strong arms. “Drop your guns or I’ll kill her,” screamed a woman’s voice.
Raucous laughter. “Go ahead. Kill her. Save us the trouble.”
Sally’s body fell in a heap. Her head hit the cold hard floor, followed by more shots. Sally’s head swam in the silence that followed.
She heard sirens coming from far away and someone kissing her face. “Sally,” the man whispered. “Darling, wake up.” First the black cloth slipped away and then the gag came out of her mouth. “Ack,” she spat and tugged at her wrists and blinked at the lights.
“Bring me the cutters,” yelled Hal. In moments he had her hands cut loose and was holding her gently. “Darling are you all right?”
“Where am I?” she rasped.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe. Where does it hurt?”
“My arms, my head,” she managed.
With one hand, Hal gently rubbed her arm while he held her with his other. “Are you shot?”
Sally hesitated, “I don’t think so. Are you?”
“I’m okay, but one of our guys is down.”
“Oh no,” Sally started sobbing and Hal cuddled her closer.
“He’ll be okay, don’t worry.”
The sirens drew near. Sally could see now. They were in some kind of parking garage, underground, she thought. She moved her head to look around and then was so horrified at the carnage that she just turned into Hal’s arms and sobbed.
~~~~~
A Slight Concussion
A few hours later she lay propped up in her hospital room. She managed a wan smile at Hal, seated beside the bed. He had never left her side all the way through the transport by EMT, the emergency room, the examination, X-ray and MRI.
“You’re awake,” he smiled at her. “That’s good. I’m supposed to keep you awake, but I couldn’t do it.”
“Oh? What’s wrong?”
“You have a slight concussion from hitting your head.”
“Oh, is that all?”
“I think you are going to be very sore for a few days. You were starting to go into shock when the EMT’s arrived.”
Sally sighed and snuggled down. “I feel kind of tired.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“You could get in bed with me,” said Sally.
“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart,” Hal grinned.
“Oh, I didn’t mean that,” she said sleepily, and then thought Maybe I did mean that.
Sally rolled onto her side and closed her eyes.
“Don’t go to sleep,” said Hal.
Sally snored softly.
When she awoke, feeling a bit stronger, she and Hal talked over everything that happened.
“The recordings are good,” he said. “We have everything we need. And the video is irrefutable.”
“That’s good,” said Sally. “So you can arrest them, now, right?”
“Well, it’s too late for most of them.”
“Why?” asked Sally, in alarm.
“They’re dead,” said Hal matter-of-factly.
And then she remembered the shots, crumpled bodies, the blood. Sally shuddered and bit her lip.
“Only two conspirators were upstairs in their offices a man who was in charge and another man who was the registered lobbyist. The woman Kabandha Ghana went down in the parking garage shoot-out. We got ‘em all, Sally. You’re safe now.”
“And what happened to your people? Was anyone hurt?”
“Well, one of the Air Marshals was shot.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she frowned. “Will he be all right?”
“They took him right into surgery. It was touch and go for a while, but this hospital is amazing. They can do wonders.”
“Yes that’s true.”
“He’ll be okay, but he’ll be on the shelf for a while.”
“Oh.”
“He asked about you,” said Hal.
“He did?”
“Yeah, he was concerned about everybody. Nice guy, considering he almost gave his life for you.”
“I must do something for him,” said Sally, starting to tear up again.
Hal didn’t want to upset her. Her emotions were raw right now. She needed rest. Should he say more? Yes, if it was cheerful.
“I think everybody survived and we’ll all get a commendation and maybe a bonus. Would you like that?” he asked.
Sally nodded.
“Mr. Goodrich was asking what your last name was, but none of the fellows knew.”
“Mr. Goodrich?”
“Nate Goodrich the Air Marshal who helped us rescue you.”
“The one who was shot?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy.”
“Maybe I can do something, send some flowers or something.” Sally searched for an idea.
“I think he would be willing to meet you, if you are interested.”
“Sure.”
“I’ll check if he can have visitors and maybe wheel you up later, before his family arrives from the West Coast. Okay?”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay, why don’t you take a nap now?”
Sally sighed and closed her eyes.
Thank you, God.
Nate -THE SEARCH –
Dorothy May Mercer
Epilogue
N ate was half-way propped up in his hospital bed, his chest wrapped in bandages. An IV ran from the rack into his arm. A nurse hooked up something and fiddled with the controls. Satisfied she dropped her hands, “Can I get you anything, Mr. Goodrich?” she asked. “Raise or lower your bed? Get you some water?”
“Yes, please, water.”
She held an iced drink for him, while he sucked on the straw.
“Thanks,” he said and looked away.
“You have visitors, Mr. Goodrich. Do you feel up to seeing them?”
“Is my family here?”
“Not yet. They’re on their way. It may be tomorrow.”
“Who is it?”
“A Mr. Brown and a woman in a wheel chair.”
“I don’t know them.”
“I think you may want to see them.”
“Okay, just for a minute. You can raise me up a little for now,” said Nate, weakly.
The nurse left the room. She gestured to Hal to come in.
Hal pushed Sally’s wheel chair into the room. “Hello, Nate. Remember me? Harold Brown Jr., FBI.”
“Oh yeah, one of them,” Nate tried to chuckle and it came out more of a choke.
Hal laughed, “Call me Hal, okay? Look here, I’ve brought someone to see you.”
Nate noticed her for the first time. “Well, lucky me, a beautiful woman.”
“Not just any beautiful woman. She wants to say something.”
“Hi Agent Goodrich. I’m the woman whose life you saved and I’m forever grateful. I just want to say thank you for saving my life.” She started to puddle up.
Nate held out his hand. “Come closer, young lady. I’m kind of tied up, here.”
Hal wheeled her up to the bedside. Sally put her small hand in Nate’s and gazed at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, letting the tears fall.
“You are so welcome.” Nate studied her for a full minute. “You remind me a lot of someone I used to know,” he said quietly.
“I hope that’s good,” said Sally recovering a bit.
“Oh yes, it was someone I loved, but she’s gone now.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. She was my first wife who died twenty years ago. My second wife, Nan, and my family will be here tomorrow. They’re probably coming in on a red-eye.” He sounded tired.
“I don’t want to tire you,” said Sally.
“I’m
okay, for now. I have a boy nineteen and a girl sixteen, going on thirty,” Nate tried to joke.
“Wonderful,” said Sally, “and their names?”
“Rob, stands for Robert, and Joy Alice. I love them so much.”
“That’s nice,” said Sally not knowing what else to say. “My middle name is Alice, too.”
“I guess I don’t know your name,” said Nate.
“It’s Sally Alice.”
“Sally Alice. Is that all?”
Sally looked at Hal, in question. “Should I tell him?”
“Up to you,” said Hal.
“It’s Miller, Sally Alice Miller.”
Nate gasped and turned even paler than he was already. Could it be?
“Miller? Are you sure?”
Sally realized she had blurted out her real name, by mistake. Hal looked as shocked as Nate. She tried to recover. “Oh I shouldn’t have said that. Uh, please. Oh … please, don’t tell anyone,” she pleaded. “I go by Millecan professionally. My real name is a secret.” She sent Hal an apologetic look.
Nate reached for the bed controls and raised himself up as far as he could. He reached for her other hand. Sally took it and bent toward him. “Look at me,” said Nate, gazing directly into her eyes. “I need to ask you a personal question, all right?”
“Okay, you can ask. I don’t have to answer.”
“This is very important to me,” said Nate. “I’m going to guess your age and birthday, and I want you to tell me if I’m right. That’s all. Can you do that?”
Sally thought this was very strange. “Maybe.”
“You were twenty-one on your last birthday which was just seven days ago.”
Sally gasped, “How did you know?”
“Well, I swear this is true, I was there when you were born.”
Sally’s eye flew wide. “You were? Oh my goodness. I’ve looked all my life for someone like you. You know who I am!”
“I think that I do, Sally.” He squeezed her hands tightly.
They gazed at each other, lost in thought unaware of the world around them.
Nate Page 20
