“No bags?” the woman asks as Charlie gets closer to the machine.
“Checked it,” he brags, holding up his ticket and pointing to the single claim check.
In Hoboken, a quick stop at the army-navy store got us a blue gym bag filled with underwear, shirts, and a few toiletries. It also got us a miniature lead-lined box that – when stuffed in the bottom of the gym bag – became the perfect hiding spot for Gallo’s gun.
No doubt, it’s a bad idea – the last thing we need is to be caught with the murder weapon – but as Charlie pointed out, these guys are leaping for our throats. Unless we want to wind up like Shep, we need the protection.
“Keep it moving,” a black guard calls out, motioning Charlie through the detector.
I hold my breath and once again lower my head. Nothing to worry about… nothing to worry about… Two seconds later, a high-pitched beep rips through the air. Oh, no. I look up just in time to see Charlie forcing a laugh. “Must be that erector set I ate this morning…”
Please, God, don’t let him blow it…
“Man, I used to hate those erector sets,” the guard laughs, waving a handheld detector up Charlie’s chest and down his shoulders. “Couldn’t build jack with ’em.” In the background, the guard with the square shoulders slowly turns our way.
“That’s why you gotta go with Lego,” Charlie adds, unable to stop himself. Spreading his arms, he waves hi to the guard with square shoulders. The guard nods awkwardly and looks away. He wants two brown-haired brothers – not a flaky blond kid traveling alone.
Finding nothing, the black guard lowers his detector. “Have a safe trip,” he tells Charlie.
“You too,” Charlie adds. It’s a great act, but there’s not a single ounce of color left in his face. Stumbling forward, he can’t get out of there fast enough.
One by one, the rest of the line takes their turn. As I step through the detector, Charlie turns around and glances back. Just to make sure I’m okay. Passing the two guards, I keep my mouth shut and glide by. And just like that, we’re in. Nowhere to go but south. Nonstop to Miami.
30
Glaring at the back of Gallo’s thick neck, Joey watched him walk across the street, back toward the apartment building. Halfway there, he shot a wave to his buddies in the van, who flashed their lights back. With a punch of the pedal, the van pulled out of its spot and hummed past Joey’s car.
“Nice seeing you!” the driver shouted to Joey.
She forced a grin, pretending it didn’t matter. Typical tech losers, she thought as they disappeared up the block. Within seconds, the black bag guys were gone. And as Gallo stepped inside the apartment building, so was her biggest obstacle.
“What was that about?” Noreen asked in her ear.
“Nothing,” Joey shot back. She kicked the car door open and crossed around to the trunk.
“Maybe you should call the boss – he’s got some buddies in the Service.”
“Noreen, not now,” Joey said, her voice echoing as she leaned down into the trunk. She pulled out a shiny metal suitcase and balanced it on the edge of the trunk. Locks popped and flipped open. Inside, it looked like a high-tech tackle box, with folding stackable trays filled with wires, mikes, and small metal gizmos that resembled miniature cellular phones. At the base of the box was a bulky radio receiver and collapsible headphones.
“What’re you doing?” Noreen asked anxiously. “Where are you?”
Joey didn’t answer. She stuffed what she needed in her pockets and crossed the street.
“You’re not going back in the apartment are you?”
“Nope,” Joey said, picking up speed.
“I heard you fidgeting with the goody box – just tell me where you’re going.”
Joey stopped in front of Gallo and DeSanctis’s car.
“They took all my taps, Noreen – and you know what it’s like getting back in while they’re listening…”
“Wait a minute… you’re not-” The slam of a car door cut Noreen off. “Joey, please tell me you’re not in the Secret Service’s car.”
“Fine, I’m not in their car.” Joey eyed her watch. There wasn’t much time. It may’ve looked like they were helping Maggie back upstairs, but it was probably just Gallo’s way of getting another peek around the apartment. Over her shoulder, Joey took one last glance at the building. Two minutes at the most.
“Joey, they can shoot you for this…”
Right next to the moon roof, Joey reached up for the dome light that lit the inside of the car, snapped off its plastic covering, and quickly undid the two screws that held the tiny bulb in place. “They started it, Noreen.”
“They started it? You’re bugging the United States Secret Service! That car’s federal property.”
“It’s also the only place these bastards are too cocky to look,” Joey pointed out. “Hell, they’re so sure of themselves, they even left the doors unlocked.” She connected a tiny microphone to the red wire that dangled down toward the bulb. It was a trick she learned years ago. The dome light was one of the few places that always had power – even when the car was off. Hooked in there, you could spy on someone for months. All it took was a little risk.
“Please, Joey – they’re gonna come any minute…”
“Almost done…” Snapping the dome back into place, she ducked down in the back of the car and reached under the driver’s seat. There was one other easy-to-reach place that always had power. And thanks to an upgrade in law enforcement vehicles, Gallo’s car was fully stocked with power seats.
Feeling around for the wiring that ran up from the floorboard, she clipped onto a red wire and quickly plugged the other end into the black box that looked like an outdated cell phone, but without the keypad.
“Joey, they won’t hesitate to throw you in jail…”
She lifted her head to glance out the side window, and a bright light caught her eye. Inside the building. The elevator doors slid open. Here they come. Less than thirty seconds. Fighting her hands from shaking, she pulled one last item from her pocket. It was a shiny extendable pointer with a slight hook at the end of it. Opening it to its full three feet, she attached it to the wiry antenna that ran out of the black box and tucked it under the base of the cloth-covered seat.
“Joey, get out of there…”
With a sharp shove, she threaded the pointer – and the antenna – straight up the back of the seat. Completely out of sight, but still perfectly angled to send a signal through the moon roof. One homemade global positioning system coming up.
“Joey…!”
“Call him,” she whispered.
“What?” Noreen asked.
“Call him.”
Frantically stuffing the black box under the seat, Joey locked it in place with a magnetic thunk. That was it. Time to get out.
From the back window, she could see Gallo and DeSanctis walking up the block. Less than fifty feet away. It was too late…
A high-pitched ring screamed through the night and Gallo stopped in his tracks. So did DeSanctis. “This is Gallo,” he answered, flipping open his cell phone. The two agents turned back toward the building. That was all Joey needed. In one fluid movement, she ducked out the back door and scuttled across the street.
“Sorry, wrong number,” Noreen said in Joey’s ear.
Gallo shut his phone and headed back to his car. As he pulled the door open, he squinted up the dark block. Joey was sitting on the hood of her car.
“Any luck up there?” she called out.
Gallo ignored her, dumping himself in the driver’s seat and slamming the door shut. In a blink, the dome light clicked off. Joey sat back and grinned.