They walked leisurely through airport security, then past various gates. Frank nodded toward a newsstand. “Let’s see if there’s anything in the paper about us.” Vince and Mike followed him.
Vince spotted the New York Times with a headline story about the shoot-out. “Here we go,” he said, picking it up. One of the sub-titles read Victims Identified.
Frank paid for the paper and they sat down near one of the gates, passing the paper around. Most of the article covered what they already knew. What was new to them were the identities of the three dead assassins: they were being identified as Matt Newberry, Hank Warner, and Andy Duncan, members of an apocalyptic Christian church called Soldiers of Christ. Information on the group was sketchy and a church spokesman, speaking on a condition of anonymity, said the church had no statement other than the three dead men were acting alone and that they had no knowledge of their criminal intentions.
“This is proof,” Vince said. “Soldiers of Christ. On a mission to wipe out the Anti-Christ. Me.”
Mike folded the paper. His features were stern. “When we get back to California we’ll do some research on the Soldiers of Christ.”
“Don’t worry, bro,” Frank said, patting Vince’s shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
Vince tried to take assurance that Frank and Mike would take care of things, that now that the proof had been presented to them they would have to take extra precautionary measures. When he read that the gunmen were members of the Soldiers of Christ he’d experienced a feeling of immense dread as his fears were confirmed. “We might not need to do anything,” he said. “I’ll bet right now a bunch of journalists are all over this and by tomorrow, information about these guys will be all over the news wires.”
Mike didn’t say anything and Frank nodded. Vince checked his watch. “Guess we should head to our gate.” They stood up and began walking down the gateway, and even when Vince was strapped in his seat in the DC-10 two hours later he still didn’t feel calmed by the knowledge that he now knew who it was that was trying to kill him. If anything, it only made him feel more in fear for his own life.
Chapter Seventeen
WHEN THEY EXITED the plane at Los Angeles International Airport, Vince couldn’t help but be nervous. He kept expecting to be arrested by cops waiting for them to get off the plane. He scanned a sea of faces that didn’t acknowledge him as he, Frank, and Mike set off down the terminal. There were no plainclothes detectives lying in wait to ambush them. In short, they’d made it home undetected.
It was almost seven p.m. in Los Angeles; they’d had to wait for over three hours in Pittsburgh and by the time they’d taken off it was four p.m. The flight had been unremarkable and they managed to take seats near each other. They’d spent the five-hour flight in silence, reading magazines and newspapers, pausing only occasionally to talk about things unrelated as to why they’d really been in Pennsylvania. Once they reached Mike’s car in the parking structure they let their guards down as Mike unlocked the door and they slipped inside.
Vince sighed in relief as he set his bag down on the floor by his feet. “God, I’m glad that’s over with. I kept expecting somebody to pop out behind a car with a gun.”
“I gotta admit, I was kinda nervous, too,” Frank said. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.
Mike started the car. “We haven’t talked about what we’re going to do next. Any ideas?”
“Not yet,” Frank said. “But we definitely need to stay on this.”
“We do,” Mike said, letting the car warm up. “I’ve got to get home and see how things are there. Carol’s probably worrying to death. I think we should use tonight to tie up whatever loose ends we may have and then reconvene late tomorrow morning at Vince’s.” He looked back at Vince. “That sounds okay to you?”
“Fine.” Vince’s mind was racing; maybe he could see Tracy tonight and have her out of the house before Mike and Frank came over.
“We’ll meet tomorrow morning at Vince’s to talk more strategy,” Mike said. “Say ten-thirty?”
Frank and Vince nodded that ten-thirty was fine with them.
“Where are you going to go?” Vince asked Frank as Mike backed out of the parking space.
“After Mike drops us off at your house, I’ll get myself a motel room,” Frank said. “I gotta call my agent and see how Brandy and the kids are doing.”
“Whatever we do, we lay low,” Mike said as he steered the car down the parking garage toward the tollgates. “I’ll try to get some information on the shootout in Lititz and give you all an update tomorrow morning. If I hear of anything vital, I’ll call you.”
“Think you can hold off calling your girlfriend for another day or so?” Frank’s question was directed at Vince but he didn’t look at him. He was looking out the window at the passing scenery of South-Central Los Angeles as Mike drove down Century Boulevard toward the 405 Freeway.
“Oh, I think so,” Vince said, playing casual. “I’m so damn horny though, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”
“If you behave tonight and all goes well tomorrow, maybe you can see her tomorrow night,” Mike said. “How’s that sound? I’d like to meet her.”
“Yeah, me too,” Frank said. He turned to Vince, his features impassive.
Vince shrugged. “Sure.”
They made the rest of the drive to Orange County lost in their own thoughts.
VINCE WASTED NO time. The minute he walked in his front door he headed to the phone in the living room and dialed Tracy’s phone number at home.
Tracy picked up on the third ring. “Hello.”
“Tracy, it’s me. Vince.”
“Vince!”
Hearing her voice again melted his heart. Knowing that she was so close now, merely blocks away, added to his growing need to see her. “I’m home,” he said. “And I don’t know how much longer I’ll be home. We’re supposed to get together again tomorrow. Can you come over?”
“I’m leaving in five minutes,” Tracy said.
She arrived thirty minutes later.
When he opened the front door she rushed into his arms. They held each other close; Vince kissed her and when Tracy kissed him back he felt tingles run up and down his spine. He closed the door and took her hand. “God, I missed you,” he said.
“Not now,” she said, melting in his arms and kissing him again.
Somehow, they made it to the bedroom.
AFTERWARD, VINCE TOLD Tracy everything.
He’d already told her what happened in Lititz while he was holed up in the Marriot at Harrisburg last night. Understandably, she’d been shocked. Now he filled in the details, as well as what Mike and Frank found out last night and his own discoveries and feelings as he read newspaper accounts and learned the identity of the men involved. “Soldiers of Christ,” he said, leaning against the pillow. “Ever heard of ’em?”
“No,” Tracy said, her mouth set in scowl. “Should I?”
Vince shook his head. “I guess not. I surely never heard of them until today.”
Tracy was reflective. “So you really think that… because these guys were part of a cult called the Soldiers of Christ that they were trying to kill you?”