"Yeah."
"Phillips," said Styles.
"Yeah? I'm just finishing up with the cars."
"Good. Is there any way you can intercept communication between these teams and whoever is directing them?"
"Probably, but it'll take a while. I'll have to discern who Backersley is directing out here. He's hands-on everything over there. He designates, but no decisions are made that aren't his."
"What about the assistant director?"
"In name only. He's just one of many managers. Myra Banks is his most trusted adviser, besides being the head of his cyber department."
"Give me your take on Banks again."
"She's good. Strongest part of her game is organization. Weakest is she won't think outside the box."
"What would be your best guess on what Backersley is doing?"
"I don't like guessing, but here's what I think. Backersley's downfall is his ego. No question. He's going to be a dog on a steak with the three things that are forefront in his mind right now."
"And those three things are?"
"First, the toxin; second, the assassination of President Williams; and third, us, or at least the DPO. I strongly believe he is beginning to think there's more to the DPO than what he's been told. Backersley is extremely smart. His IQ is off the charts. It is difficult, next to impossible, to try to get anything past him."
"So right now he'd be concentrating on the agent?"
"He's giving all three equal time. Make no mistake about it. This man is a very strong adversary."
"Anything you can do to slow him down or even get him off track?"
"There's always something I can do," she replied with a gleam in her eyes.
Starr spoke up. "Looks like Rijah Ellhad is leaving tomorrow morning on a camping trip. He's talking to this woman — looks like her name is Sahleea. He's picking up a rental tow-behind RV today."
"That's it, then. He'll pick that up, go back, and get the rest of his gear along with that weapon. Starr, you need to get back straight away, as we'll need you in the morning. I'll be watching and let you know what he's driving. I need you to plant a tracker on his truck. I hope he has to stop and gas up, because that'll make it easier for you, but no matter, whatever you have to do, get a tracker on that truck. J. C. and I are going to swap vehicles for the time being. I want to go back past the Quality Suites, and the Jeep has been seen driving in the area. When we get to the airport, Starr and J. C. will go in and pick up the keys. That should keep Phillips away from the cameras. We'll meet you guys over at the hangar."
"Got it," answered Starr.
When Starr and Christman got out, Phillips jumped behind the steering wheel, as Styles relayed he would walk to the hangar. She pulled up, got out, and walked through the large retractable doors. The DPO jet was set to be pulled outside.
She had decided to retrieve a couple of blank flash drives and was fifteen feet inside the hangar, walking toward the jet, when a voice shot out from off to her right, in the shadows. Two men came walking toward her.
"Hold it right there, miss."
Phillips turned and looked at the two men, saying nothing.
"Are you Darlene Phillips?" asked the larger of the two.
She said nothing and was glad she'd left her purse and computer bags in the vehicle.
"Yeah, that's her," replied the first man's companion, looking at a photograph.
"You'll need to come with us."
Phillips flashed her DPO identification at them. "I'm with the DPO, on official government business, and I'm not going anywhere with you."
The second man put the photograph back in his pocket as both men advanced toward her.
A black Chevrolet Suburban came screeching to a stop ten feet outside of the large doors. It sat there idling.
"That ID goes nowhere with us. Now walk toward the Suburban or we'll carry you."
Very casually, Phillips slipped out of her shoes.
"Go open the rear door. I can handle her," ordered the larger man.
The second man immediately turned to follow directions.
In a flash, Phillips had tied her long black hair into a ponytail. She was dressed in her usual black jeans, with a long-sleeve, very dark gray T-shirt-style top. She had put away her ID and now stood facing the man at a slight angle.
"Not that it matters, but who are you? Do you have any official identification, or is this just some half-assed attempt to kidnap me?"
"Lady, you can make this easy, or you can make this hard; your choice."
"I choose hard."
He stopped eight feet in front of her to evaluate his opponent. He saw no fear in her eyes, just determination. Suddenly, he just rushed her, intending to grab her arms. He never really saw the back of her foot as it connected solidly with the side of his head, sending him sprawling.
Upon seeing this, the second man joined in. He advanced much more cautiously as the first man was picking himself off the ground.
Phillips had backed up close to the fuselage of the jet, eliminating any chance of either of the men getting behind her.
The two men flanked her and approached much more slowly.
"Why don't we just Tase her ass?" the smaller man asked.
"I owe her one," was the response.
Phillips balanced slightly on the balls of both feet. Both men lunged at once.
Phillips executed a perfect side kick to the solar plexus of the smaller man and delivered an elbow to the forehead of the larger man just as he was able to grab her around her left shoulder and under her right arm. He was dazed but still maintained the grip. She spun hard to her left, bringing her left hand up, over the man's arm, into a knuckle strike perfectly into his nose. The blood immediately started pouring as he yelled in rage.
She saw a third figure appear in the open doorway who was instantly moving toward her. Suddenly, that man, whom she now recognized as Styles, was on the ground in convulsions. A woman was behind him holding the Taser that she had fired into his back.
Shit…
The woman was walking toward her, reloading her Taser.
Phillips had no intention of being Tased; she'd had enough of that earlier.
The big man tried wiping the blood streaming down his face and approached her again, fury in his eyes.
The smaller man was just now getting his breath back, and he warily approached.
"You two morons just get the hell out of my way," the woman ordered.
Luckily for Phillips, the larger man's ego wouldn't allow that.
"You don't learn very well, do you?" Phillips egged him on.
The man's indignation had gotten the best of him. He approached Phillips again, this time receiving a kick under his jaw and two quick punches to his face. Phillips then pushed him toward the woman and ducked low. The man reared up like an enraged bear and caught two darts between his shoulder blades for his trouble. He instantly went to the concrete floor, writhing in pain. He had intercepted the Taser contacts intended for Phillips. The second man was now scrambling to intercept Phillips while the woman reloaded her Taser again.
Suddenly, Styles appeared beside the woman, a redhead in her early thirties, and kicked the Taser unit out of her hand so hard that it flew halfway across the hangar and skidded to a stop on the floor. Then he pushed her toward Phillips. "You take her!"
"Glad to."
Styles approached the second man like a coiled snake as he was scrambling to procure his own Taser. He was just clearing the unit's holster when Styles launched a vicious side kick and caught the man right on the bridge of his nose that drove him backward. Following him, he drove two brutal punches in the center of his forehead, knocking him unconscious. He turned just in time to see Phillips squaring off against the woman he'd just kicked the Taser from.
"Any chance this might be just the two of us?" asked "Red."