“What are you doing?” She looked over her shoulder at Ma, then back at her husband. “Dalu?”
“I am sorry, my love,” Tang said. “But you must understand…”
Lin’s jaw dropped when she realized what was happening. Ma Zhen looped a charging cord from his computer around her throat, hauling her backwards. He was taller by six inches and easily lifted her tiny body off the floor. The intensity of the attack pulled her blouse to one side, exposing the tender flesh of her collarbone. Ropelike veins on her slender neck swelled above the biting electrical cord as if ready to burst. Her eyes flew wide. Tiny hands clawed the air. Hands that once caressed him reached out, trembling, pleading for help.
When it was done, Ma let her body slide to the ground. Even in the shadows, his face was bright from the frenzy of killing. He dropped the cord and wiped his hands on a pillowcase from one of the bunks.
“I did my best to make it quick,” he said.
Tang’s eye began to twitch. It was impossible to erase Lin’s final look of betrayal from his memory. But that could not be helped. Ma did what had to be done. Lin had agreed to die. That was the plan since they had met the man from Pakistan. She had even embraced the idea. Tang told himself that this was quicker, perhaps, he thought, even less cruel since she would not have to pull the trigger. Death had freed her from the awful state of confusion brought on by the little guizi bitch. The child would pay for forcing him to take such drastic measures.
Ma put a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you all right, my brother?”
“We have to hurry,” Tang snapped. The killing had to be done, but that did not keep him from hating the man who did it. “Go and see to the others.”
Ma paused, dark eyes still frenzied. “She… she was to detonate the device.”
“I am aware of our plan.” Tang draped a flimsy airline blanket over his wife’s body. “Go and tell the others we are back on track.”
Eager to move toward his own end, he found an outlet for the coffee grinder and some pillows to muffle the noise. He dropped a handful of the aluminum foil strips into the grinder and turned it on.
Ma Zhen steadied himself on the edge of a bunk as the plane dipped suddenly, beginning a slow 180-degree turn back toward the United States.
“Will you take her place?” the young man asked. His hands shook from the aftermath of killing.
“You will have that honor,” Tang said, staring at his dead wife. “This is a large aircraft. There is always a chance that there will be a few survivors. I will make certain the guizi child is not among them.”
Chapter 51
Bowen drummed his fingers on the armrest of a stolen concrete truck and tried to get his head wrapped around the situation. Thibodaux had commandeered the thing from a construction site in Silver Spring, reaching under the chassis to disable the GPS as if he swiped concrete trucks several times a week.
Bowen had followed in his Charger to a strip mall north of the Beltway, next to some new construction so they wouldn’t seem so out of place. The government car, or G-ride, was parked in front of a beauty salon a few spots away where Bowen could keep an eye on it while Thibodaux filled him in.
“Well, cher,” the Cajun said. “I guess now is when you decide if you’re in or out.”
“What the hell?” Bowen shook his head. “I think we’re up to three felonies apiece already.”
“And the night is young,” Thibodaux said.
“Whatever,” Bowen said. “I’m in.”
“Fair enough,” Thibodaux said. “I’ve been given approval to bring you into the fold, so to speak.”
Bowen said nothing, so the Cajun continued.
“Here’s the way this’ll go down,” he said. “An army three-star named Lucas Hewn is about to conduct a surprise inspection of the mental health ward at Walter Reed Hospital. It’s well known that certain high-value prisoners are being held there. General Hewn wants to make certain everyone is watching their P’s and Q’s, so to speak, and ensure we don’t have ourselves another Abu Ghraib. Anyhow, he’s loyal to us and understands the urgency. One of his staffers is a known IDTF snitch. He’ll leak it that there is about to be an inspection. If they’re keeping the director naked and threatening her with rape, Walter is bound to want her moved before the general can talk to her. If Joey B does his job, we’ll have enough time to set up and grab her when they move.”
Bowen thought for a moment before he spoke. “You’re talking about grabbing a federal prisoner during transport?”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, cher,” Thibodaux said.
“Look,” Bowen said, “that could be some of my friends conducting this move. What if there are guys involved in the transport that aren’t a part of this whole secret government takeover thing?”
Thibodaux shook his head. “You ever move an ID agent’s prisoners before?”
“No,” Bowen said.
“There ain’t no clean end on a turd,” Thibodaux said, looking like he wanted to spit. “I understand the need for secrecy and all, but these guys are beyond dirty. You heard what they did to Garcia.”
“Okay,” Bowen said, convinced, but easing into it. The cab of the concrete truck seemed to be closing in around him. He’d done a lot of iffy things in his life, but nothing close to this. “I understand Ross is the director of the CIA, and there’s no doubt she’s being treated badly. But if what you say is true, so are a lot of other high-level people. There’s got to be something else about her you’re not telling me.”
“Now you’re trackin’.” Thibodaux smiled as if he was happy Bowen had figured out some clue. “How much do you know about our new president?”
“Garcia gave me her thoughts on the matter,” Bowen said. “I hate to say it, but it sounds reasonable.”
“Good,” Thibodaux said. “Because you’ve just been inducted into a secret group committed to bringing them down. General Hewn, Palmer, Garcia, me, and a shitload of others are in it up to our necks right along with you.”
“Wait, wait, wait…” Bowen shook his head. “You’re telling me you guys are planning a coup?”
“What we’re planning to do,” Thibodaux said, “is cut their damn heads off.”
“You mean figuratively,” Bowen said.
The Cajun shrugged. “Remains to be seen,” he said. “And don’t go all flabbergasted on me. Joey B laid out exactly what’s going on. You want men like him and his pal Walter running the show? Because there’s a hell of a lot more where they came from. This ain’t the America I know.”
“And Director Ross?” Bowen asked again. “Where does she fit into this?”
“She’s part of us,” Thibodaux said. “It’s not like we have group meetings or anything, but she and Palmer were working through several scenarios, so she’s pretty much up to speed on everything — names, plans, you know, shit that will get us all killed if she gives it up.”
Chapter 52
“So,” Carly said when the captain finished his 180-degree turn and the airplane was pointing back out over the Bering Sea. “Just under four hours until we’re back in Alaska. You think we can find the killer by then?”
“We’re going to try.” Quinn bit his bottom lip, his mind racing.
There was no way this killer was working alone. He would need accomplices to make sure other passengers were kept away from both the upper and lower decks in the moments while he murdered Foulger. Anything else would have relied too heavily on luck. No, there was more than one actor out there. It was the only thing that made sense.