Petrovich stopped, and turned around to face them. "Did his orders include killing me?"
"No. Quite the opposite."
"Then the last thing either of you would want to do is point a gun at me. My orders don't include a restriction on killing either of you."
Petrovich turned around to continue down the path, talking over his shoulder. “Gentlemen, I'd be happy to help you jump a car, but after…"
Farrington never reached inside of his jacket for the M-4 rifle, an action that would have gotten him killed very quickly. He had, however, retrieved an item from his coat pocket as soon as Petrovich showed resistance to the general's rendezvous plan. The item resembled a small cylinder, and spit a tight pattern of darts in Daniel's direction. Daniel heard an angry hiss and felt the darts strike his upper back, but couldn't react. He tried to grip the MP-9, but his hand didn't respond. Nothing did. He remained upright for a brief second before toppling forward, his head still over his shoulder. His sight dimmed, while his hearing faded. He heard Parker say something that enraged him.
"Daniel, don't worry about Jessica. Sanderson said she was safe and already on her way to meet us."
Everything faded for Daniel.
FADE TO BLACK
May 26, 2005
Chapter Forty-Six
Jessica jogged through Central Parking toward the row and section Daniel had indicated in his first phone call. She held a key fob in her right hand, and pressed the unlock button. After several tries, a dark sedan answered the call, flashing its rear brake lights in response to the fob's signal. At least getting out of Portland and finding the car hadn't been a problem for her. The rest of the day hadn't exactly gone as planned, but she improvised, and as always, she came out on top.
She had expected the FBI to come to her office, but as the day dragged onward, with no sign of the police or FBI, she began to worry that Daniel might have already been taken into custody. Two phone calls, one late in the afternoon and one in the early evening, assured her that Daniel was fine, but did little to relieve her anxiety.
General Sanderson had contacted her at her office before she left work to prepare her for the inevitable raid on her house. He also asked her to do him a favor, stressing that it would be in Daniel's best interest if she didn't mention his call. He spoke in nebulous terms, and answered few of her detailed questions about Daniel, but his favor mirrored Daniel's suggested course of action, so Jessica played along.
Before Daniel left for D.C., they had worked out a rough plan for the day, which was the only reason she remained in town. Daniel had assured her earlier that within twenty-four hours, they would vanish from the grid together, and start over. She trusted his assessment of the situation, and her own skills. One way or the other, she could get out of Portland, even if placed in full police custody.
Daniel called her as soon as she left work, on one of her untraceable cell phones, and convinced her that he was fine. He was waiting at a Marriott Hotel for further instructions, and told her to follow her regular routine. She went for a run after that, and spotted the police trucks behind the elementary school. She added an extra mile to her run in order to give the two stakeout cars on her street the impression that she hadn't been near the elementary school. She waited for what seemed like an eternity in the house, playing music and pretending to be busy.
The Portland Police Department's SWAT officers did an amazingly professional job moving in on the house undetected. The team's sudden entry truly startled her, and she reacted instinctively, almost putting her entire plan in jeopardy. Luckily for her, she had only been holding a spoon, preparing to pull a yogurt from the refrigerator. A knife or fork might have resulted in a bullet to the head. Agent Edwards arrived in time to break things up, and keep her out of police custody, which was a blessing. She could tell by his first glance at her on the floor, that he would be an easy target for later. She softened one of her looks in his direction, and Edwards did the rest. She didn't even have to suggest they leave the house. He was already forming that plan while she lay on the floor.
Once her job with Edwards was finished at the hotel, she grabbed the first taxi she could find, and called Daniel, but the phone he had been using went to voicemail immediately. She tried the next number in the sequence she had been given, and it did the same thing. Her next call went to Sanderson, but he didn't answer either. She tried the same combination of numbers several times on the way to Logan Airport, with the same result. She wondered if it was possible that Sanderson's entire crew had been rolled up by the FBI. She doubted it.
At this point, she didn't see any option other than to proceed west on the Massachusetts Turnpike, toward West Virginia. Sanderson had given her a rendezvous point where he claimed Daniel would be waiting, and they could organize their departure from the United States. Sanderson promised to help them in any way possible. Daniel had wanted her to head south toward D.C., but given her complete inability to make contact with either of them, she decided to head in a safer direction.
She opened the trunk of the Toyota Camry and removed a black nylon gym bag, taking it into the car with her. She placed it on the passenger seat and zipped it open. At the top, a pistol sat under an envelope. She opened it and read Daniel's note:
"Sorry this caught up to us so quickly. We've both been through hell and back, so this is nothing. A small bump in the road. We'll be fine. If for some reason you lose contact with me for more than twenty-four hours, find Sanderson. I don't completely trust him, but he will be your best option for setting up the arrangements to leave the country. Sunset drinks at the Santa Isabel. Love you always, Danny."
"Damn it," she whispered, and leaned her head back against the headrest.
Jessica took a moment to clear her head, which didn't work. Her thoughts kept returning to their house, and the pictures. She had to walk around the house for hours and wait for the inevitable, staring at the memories she couldn't take with her. This was almost more than she could endure, and she considered putting together a package to mail…somewhere. She didn't know where, but she wanted to save something. Anything. Daniel had warned her against doing this, and he had been right. Anything she did could have tipped off the police or FBI…though she doubted Edwards would have figured it out. She could have pulled a small framed picture out of her purse in the hotel room, and he wouldn't have put it together. His mind had strayed about as far as possible from the investigation at that point.
She wondered if they'd ever be safe in one place again. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe it was a ridiculous dream to invest so much energy into creating a "normal" life. Nothing about either of them was normal, and this next time around, they wouldn't fall into the same mental trap. Still, a deep part of her yearned for everything in that house, and it comforted her in a way. It reminded her that she hadn't been completely ruined.
She folded the letter and stuffed it between the bag and the back of the seat. She removed the pistol, with silencer already attached, and pulled the slide back far enough to check the chamber. She saw the brief reflection of brass, and could tell that Danny had left the gun ready for immediate use. She tucked the pistol under the driver's seat for quick access, hoping she would never have to use it. She despised firearms. Dirty, unsophisticated instruments. She preferred the cold, razor sharp blade of a knife, if circumstances allowed. She had taken to edged weapon training at The Farm like it was second nature, eventually pushing the CIA's best instructors to their limits.