Jarvis’s mind began racing. ‘Where’s the nearest air — intercept unit based?’
‘Langley Field,’ Hellerman replied. ‘F22 Raptors.’
Jarvis thought long and hard. ‘They won’t shoot them down if they identify the jet, but they might be able to escort it forcefully to Langley Field and search the plane. Charlottesville is a customs airport — as soon as they land they’ll be picked up.’
Hellerman said nothing as Jarvis thought long and hard about what he knew. His reveal to the Joint Chiefs of Staff of Ethan’s plans to escape Saudi Arabia had resulted in a storming of that very same vessel within a few hours. That the leak could only have come from the JCOS meeting was obvious, and that it resulted in the raid by unknown agents suggested assets of MJ–12. Jarvis could only assume that FBI Director LeMay was behind the leak, but he could be wrong.
Intelligence was a game of chance, and only those willing to bet the farm made big gains. He knew that he would be for the chop as soon as LeMay figured out what Jarvis had in mind, but Jarvis reminded himself that he wasn’t the one leaking intelligence to private organisations presumably in return for professional or financial favours.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ Jarvis said finally and pulled out his cell phone. ‘I need you to remain here and if Ethan calls, you give him whatever support he needs, okay?’
‘Where are you going?’ Hellerman asked.
Jarvis did not answer as he left the office.
‘Our target is a Caucasian male, late thirties, six feet tall and in the company of a Latino woman, another Caucasian male and a teenage girl. The target is considered dangerous and should not be approached without the presence of back — up.’
Special Agent in Charge Valery Jenkins was a formidable woman, almost six feet tall and with dark hair tied in a severe bun behind her head, streaked with fine lines of silver that only seemed to make her look more stern. Special Agent Hannah Ford watched as Jenkins gave her brief in an abandoned lot to the south of the airport, the entire operation one of the swiftest Hannah had ever witnessed.
Photographs of the fugitives were handed out to each of the twelve agents present, all of them wearing their distinctive FBI jackets and bullet — proof vests. Hannah looked down at the image of Ethan Warner and his accomplices and briefly scanned the biographies attached to them.
‘Who’s the kid?’ somebody asked.
‘Amber Ryan, seventeen,’ Jenkins replied. ‘According to reports, she has been abducted by Warner and Lopez.’
Hannah frowned. The brief said that Ryan had vanished from somewhere in Missouri but now the fugitives, having fled to the Middle East, were apparently on their way back to the USA.
‘What’s the evidence that this is an abduction case?’ she asked.
Jenkins directed a cold glare in her direction.
‘What, you mean apart from two adults scurrying around the world with a missing teenager?’
A ripple of chuckles floated across the gathered agents and Hannah felt color rising in her cheeks. She swallowed her embarrassment down, hoping that her voice wasn’t trembling. ‘They abduct her, flee to Saudi Arabia, then they come back again? Doesn’t make sense if they want to remain undetected — they were already clear and away. And how did we catch this case when nobody has reported the girl missing?’
Jenkins smiled without warmth.
‘If you pay attention to catching them instead of asking questions that nobody can answer yet, then I’ll guess we’ll find out.’ Jenkins looked at the rest of the team. ‘We don’t know what these folks are up to, but orders are they’re fugitives from the law and it’s our task to apprehend them and bring them to justice. We have agents at fifteen civilian fields on the east coast, that’s how important this case is, and Charlottesville is considered their most likely point of entry. Focus on finding them, understood?’
A chorus of yes ma’am followed and then the FBI team split into groups and headed for their vehicles.
‘Good call.’
The voice of Hannah’s partner, Mickey Vaughn, served to calm Hannah’s beating heart as they climbed into the pool car they’d been assigned. Mickey was a stocky, blond junior agent not long out of Quantico and assigned to Hannah. Hannah was a ten year veteran of the bureau and had already been disciplined twice for aggression in the field and an unlawful discharge of her weapon that had brought some disrepute to her field office and the wrath of Valery Jenkins.
‘The White Witch didn’t seem to think so.’
Vaughn’s eyes widened. ‘Your mic’s on!’
Hannah panicked and looked down, then slapped Mickey across the shoulder as she saw him chuckling to himself.
‘She’s been gunning for me ever since we iced Sylvester Ruslo down in Auburn Hills.’
‘He was a damned child molester, he got what he deserved,’ Mickey said as they drove out of the lot, following the rest of the team.
‘Civil rights didn’t agree,’ Hannah uttered in disgust. ‘Jenkins has had it in for me ever since.’
‘Jenkins is an asshole,’ Mickey pointed out. ‘She missed out on Langley because of her divorce and now she sees herself being stuck down here as some kind of punishment. She’s venting on you — don’t give her the satisfaction.’
Hannah sighed and saw her reflection in the mirror, auburn hair flowing in the wind from the open window, pale skin across a slightly too — wide jaw and freckles populating her cheeks. Vivid blue eyes stared back at her, angry and afraid all at once.
‘When’s the jet due to land?’
Hannah looked at her notes. ‘Fifteen minutes. You read this guy’s rap sheet?’
‘A few arrests from years back, former Marine Corps right?’
‘Iraq and Afghanistan,’ Hannah confirmed. ‘Supposedly has done some work for the government recently, runs a bail bondsmen business out of River Forest, Chicago with this Lopez woman. She’s an ex — DC cop. Nothing fits an abduction case.’
‘Sometimes even the good guys go bad,’ Mickey pointed out. ‘Don’t start personalizing them. Jenkins was right, we need to get them into custody and then we can figure this all out.’
The cars swept into Charlottesville — Albermarle airport as Jenkin’s voice warbled over the intercom.
‘I want agents in the terminal and at all airport exits. Be ready to apprehend the suspects at all costs. As soon as the aircraft comes to a rest at the terminal, we move in.’
Hannah did not respond to the call as she surveyed the airport. A large terminal faced out onto a long runway orientated 03–21, with aircraft landing on the 21 runway according to the orange windsock she could see gusting in the light breeze far out across the field.
‘Take us to the southern — most point you can find,’ she instructed Mickey. ‘I want to keep an eye on that plane from the moment it touches down.’
‘Roger that,’ Mickey replied as he turned into an airport parking lot.
Hannah reached down and checked her service firearm one more time before they deployed from the vehicle.
Ethan looked out of the jet’s windows as it turned onto final approach to land, the aircraft wallowing and rocking on the wind currents as it extended undercarriage and flaps.
‘You think there’s anybody waiting for us?’ Lopez asked.
Ethan nodded slowly, trying to get a better view ahead as he pressed his face to the window.
‘It’s what I’d do,’ he replied. ‘There can’t be many trans — Atlantic flights coming into this field from France. We can’t just walk off the jet and through the terminal or customs will spot us — we’ll have to figure something out.’
The rolling hills below basked in the sunshine as the jet flew gracefully over fields and forests and then Ethan spotted the airfield perimeter and the parking lots filled with assorted vehicles flashing as their windows caught the sunlight.