Jihad

CHAPTER 124

Lia DeFrancesca pushed the cleaning cart slowly across the floor, eying the line of food shops at the Cleveland Airport Terminal as she continued on her quest to get a good idea of the place before the mission tomorrow evening. There wasn’t all that much different about this terminal than most others in America, or across the world for that matter, but sometimes the subtle things made a difference; knowing to turn left rather than right out of the bookshop to get to the gate, for example.

She stepped over to a waste can that had a view of the concourse and put down the video bug she was using to check positions for the surveillance tomorrow.

“If you could go six inches to the right, that would be perfect,” said Claudell Greenstreet, the runner. Greenstreet was new, which was why he drew the comparatively unimportant task of helping her prep for the mission.

The fly blended perfectly with its surroundings, and rather than move it Lia pushed the waste can itself over.

“Lookin’ good,” said Greenstreet.

As Lia returned to her cart, a middle-aged woman wearing a dark blue business suit and a touch too much makeup walked up and waved her hand in Lia’s face.

“Yo, Miss. Miss?”

“Yeah?”

“That little brat over there spilled his soda all over the floor.” The woman pointed in the direction of the food concessions, where a three-year-old was using the tables as a jungle gym.

“And?”

“You’re going to clean it up, aren’t you?”

“What do I look like? A janitor?” asked Lia, pushing the cart down the aisle.