“Between you and me, these birds pretty much fly themselves. I’m just here in case something goes wrong.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” Daniel said, gripping his suitcase. “Ready, Jessica?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
He stepped through the exit hatch, taking the short stairway to the tarmac. The canvas and translucent plastic tunnel extended about fifteen feet beyond the jet, connecting seamlessly to the SUV that would drive them out of the airport. Their driver, a squat, middle-aged Latino man in a black suit, ushered them into the vehicle and closed the rear passenger door, then disappeared through a flap in the canvas with their suitcases.
Less than thirty seconds after their feet had touched the runway, the powerful vehicle passed through a manned security station that separated the public world from the private aircraft tarmac. Their driver was efficient and practiced. It was a shame they had to ditch him so quickly.
“Where to, sir?” asked the driver.
“Main terminal parking. I’ll guide you when we get there,” said Daniel, tapping his shoulder with a money roll. “Sorry, but this pickup was more of a security precaution than anything.”
“No need to apologize, sir,” said the driver, briefly turning his head to see the money. “We’re good. You’re all paid up for the day.”
“My treat,” said Daniel. “I insist.”
The driver reached over his shoulder and took the roll of cash, placing it somewhere out of sight. “Thank you,” he said with a subtle hint of regret, possibly disappointment.
Daniel pegged him as ex-military. Someone that didn’t require a tip or bonus to put any extra effort into a job or assignment. A professional. The SUV eased right onto Bessie Coleman Drive and picked up speed, heading toward the main terminal in the distance. Jessica lifted a black briefcase from her foot well and placed it in her lap while Daniel scanned the road behind them. The private terminal access road beyond the security gate remained clear as they continued down the four-lane road. He didn’t expect to detect any possible surveillance this quickly, but it never hurt to look.
Satisfied that they hadn’t been followed directly out of the private terminal or joined on the road from a nearby parking area, he glanced at the open briefcase in his wife’s lap. He caught a glimpse of a compact pistol as she refastened a hidden compartment cover. Jessica looked at him and nodded, indicating that everything they’d requested was present. She removed two sets of rental car keys and a notecard containing a few letters and numbers before shutting the briefcase. Daniel went back to watching the road behind them.
Jessica leaned toward the driver. “Terminal One departures. United.”
“Copy that, ma’am.”
Definitely ex-military.
One of Sanderson’s people? Someone neither Jessica nor he had met? That would be an interesting twist and not completely out of the realm of possibilities. Sanderson had reached out to them after Karl Berg’s phone call, to talk them out of going. Failing that, he offered to coordinate the logistics for the trip and provide personal protective equipment upon arrival in Chicago. They’d taken him up on the offer since neither of them had the kind of contacts needed to procure firearms that quickly, and because Sanderson footed the bill for the flights.
He dismissed the idea as fast as it materialized. Sanderson had also orchestrated the next part of their countersurveillance maneuver, which entailed ditching the driver entirely. Daniel didn’t care either way. If Sanderson wanted to keep an eye on them, there wasn’t much they could do about it, and there were far worse things in the world than having Black Flag operatives watching their backs.
Jessica held the notecard where he could see it.
Vehicles in main garage hourly parking across from terminal one. Kia — row B and Nissan — row G. Good luck and watch your back. Call Ramon — your driver — for pickup from hotel on way out. He’s not one of ours, in case you’re curious.
“Ramon?” said Daniel.
“Yes, sir?”
“Looks like we’ll be using your services on the way back to the airport.”
“I’m happy to hear that, sir,” said Ramon.
“Why do I get the feeling you already knew it?”
“I’ve arranged a sedan through a cooperating agency for the return trip. Wanted to change things up. I’ll still be your driver.”
“That’s good to know,” said Daniel.
“Any particular reason?” said Jessica.
Daniel gave her a quizzical look.
“Unique skillset, ma’am,” said Ramon.
“Sounds familiar,” muttered Jessica, squeezing Daniel’s hand.
The driver glanced into the rearview mirror, briefly making eye contact with Daniel. A look of acknowledgment passed between the two of them. The guy was definitely Sanderson material, and it was no coincidence that he had been chosen to drive them. To the general’s credit, he maintained an extensive list of loyal and capable people around the world. The man had that kind of effect on people, a sort of infectious attraction that you could never fully shake. He couldn’t even begin to guess how Ramon had come under Sanderson’s spell.
After taking another long look at the road behind them, he kissed Jessica on the side of her mouth. She smiled flatly, taking a deep, but quiet inhale. Her stomach inflated and deflated slowly, a breathing relaxation technique she had mastered over the years. Not that he thought it would help her right now.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered, instantly regretting the clichéd statement.
“Don’t.”
Message received. In a way, he was glad they would take separate cars to Palos Hills. The closer they got to the source of her rage, the worse it would get. Daniel stole a glance at his watch. Seventeen hours and forty-seven minutes until they could officially start a new chapter in their life.
A lot could go wrong in eighteen hours.
Chapter 17
Jessica pulled her carry-on suitcase into the restroom on the departure level and maneuvered it into the nearest open stall. She laid the red luggage piece flat across the toilet seat, quickly opening it to expose a smaller black carry-on bag fitted snugly inside. She removed a compact pistol and two spare magazines from her oversized red leather handbag and transferred the items to a zippered compartment on the outside of the nested bag.
After separating the two pieces of luggage, she removed her stylish black jacket and hung it on the back of the door. A few moments later, she left her old suitcase in the stall, closing the door behind her, and headed for the exit. She slowed in front of the mirrors to adjust the wig she had retrieved from the original carry-on suitcase. She could use a lipstick refresh too, but decided against it. A quick turnaround in the bathroom was more important right now. On her way past the paper towel dispenser, she pushed the handbag into the stainless steel trash bin, retaining a black clutch purse that had been hidden with the wig.
Less than ten seconds after Jessica entered the restroom, she walked out with cropped red hair, black luggage, and a trendy white blouse. Not exactly the most radical transformation, but hopefully enough to temporarily throw off anyone that had hustled into the terminal after them.
She followed the signs for the baggage level, which took her toward a distant escalator. A casual look toward the bucket seats in front of the terminal’s floor-to-ceiling windows eased her fears. Daniel rubbed his right eye with the back of his hand, their prearranged signal that he hadn’t detected any surveillance.