Long Road to Mercy

Chapter 46

The credit card purchase was made online at eleven a.m. Two one-way tickets from Reagan Washington National Airport to Flagstaff, Arizona. The fastest flight was on American, which only had one stop in Phoenix before heading on for the short leg to Flagstaff. The flight was scheduled to leave in three days.

Carol Blum’s personal credit card number had been flagged and sent along to those parties who had requested the marker. Strike teams were assembled, and a recon unit was dispatched to Reagan to bang out the necessary details for Blum’s and Pine’s apprehension before they boarded.

The people in charge were wary of the purchase, however, since Blum could be the only one to show up. Or else neither of them might appear for the flight. Thus, the other two airports and the train and bus depots in the DC area were immediately put under watch.

And a secondary team was deployed to the Flagstaff area just in case. Pine and Blum’s homes and the office in Shattered Rock were already under surveillance.

Now, all they could do was wait.

“You want to go where?”

The cab driver looked askance at Pine and Blum. He was a black man in his sixties wearing a felt cap and glasses that dangled on a chain against his broad chest. His checkered shirt was open enough to reveal curling gray chest hair.

“Harpers Ferry, West Virginia,” replied Pine.

“Lady, you know this is Virginia, right, not West Virginia?” said the man.

“I can read a map,” said Pine.

“You know how far that is from here?”

“About a hundred miles. You should be able to do it in under two hours.”

“The hell you say. Look, ma’am, first thing is, I don’t drive to West Virginia.”

Pine held up five fifty-dollar bills. She had used her friend’s debit card to get the cash.

“Two hours for two hundred and fifty bucks. Do you still not drive to West Virginia?”

The man considered this offer. “Well, I got to drive back.”

“Still, over fifty bucks an hour, guaranteed. I doubt that’s a hardship for you.”

Blum pulled out a hundred dollars from her wallet.

“And this extra amount to cover your gas,” she said. “And because you’re a nice person.”

The man said, “You two must really want to get to Harpers Ferry. Why?”

“I hear it’s very historical,” said Pine.

“And you got no car?”

Before she’d used her credit card to buy the plane tickets, Blum had driven the Mustang to Reagan National and left it in long-term parking to give credence to their taking a flight from there to Flagstaff.

“We’re visiting from out of the area,” said Pine.

The man nodded. “Okay, thing is, I got nothing against taking your money, but it’d be a lot cheaper to take a bus, or even the train.”

“I don’t like crowds. You want the gig or not? Unless you can make more money today somewhere else.”

The man eyed their luggage. “Is that all the bags you got?”

“That’s it.”

He shrugged and slipped on his glasses. “Okay, ladies, let’s go.”

They made it to the Harpers Ferry train station in a little more than two hours. It was right on the border between the two Virginias. The building was wood sided, stained a dull red, and was Victorian in style. It rested on the buried foundations of old armory buildings.

They paid the promised money, and the cabbie handed out their bags from the trunk.

“Hope you gals enjoy the history,” he said, patting the cash in his pocket.

“Maybe we’ll make some of our own while we’re here,” said Blum.

The man cracked a grin and knuckle-smacked her. “Now, there you go!”

He drove off, and thirty minutes later Amtrak’s Capitol Limited train roared into town.

They had previously purchased their tickets at another train station, paying in cash. When the woman at the ticket window had asked for ID, Pine had pulled her badge and said in a low voice, “FBI, undercover, escorting a valuable witness for the government. Hoping to nail some really bad guys. Do not say anything to anyone about this.”

The woman, a matronly type in her sixties, glanced at Blum and smiled. “Good for you, honey. I won’t breathe a word to anyone.”

Blum smiled. “We all have to do our part.”

The train pulled away only a couple of minutes late.

They had reserved a Superliner bedroom compartment with its own bath, which also doubled as a shower. They stowed their bags and sat on the blue couch staring out the window as the West Virginia scenery passed by. Soon they would be looking at Maryland scenery followed by Pennsylvania and Ohio landscapes, with the final destination in Chicago, where they had a layover before boarding the Southwest Chief. They would arrive in Arizona before the flight they’d booked for Flagstaff ever left the ground.

Pine looked around the compartment. “I’ve never taken the train before. How about you?”

“Once. Along the California coast. I was sixteen. First time I’d been away from home. I went to visit an aunt. I really enjoyed it. Felt free as a bird. Three years later, I was a mom learning to live on a couple hours of sleep a night.”

They ate dinner in the dining car. Blum had a glass of wine, while Pine stuck to beer. Both women went to sleep in their clothes, Pine in the top berth and Blum in the bottom. The swaying of the train allowed Pine to fall asleep fast and not wake up until around six.

They reached Pittsburgh at midnight and Chicago at around nine the next morning. They left the train and went to have breakfast at a place in the train station, a cavernous building on the west side of the Chicago River.

Pine and Blum had six hours to kill before they would board the Southwest Chief.

While they were eating, Blum was watching a TV monitor that was bolted to the wall. “Oh my God.”

Pine looked at the TV. Oscar Fabrikant’s photo filled the screen. The chyron at the bottom read: AMERICAN SCHOLAR FOUND DEAD IN MOSCOW. APPARENT SUICIDE.

Pine and Blum looked at each other.

Pine said softly, “He didn’t kill himself.”

“How do you think they found him?”

“They must have learned we had met with him. Maybe from the two fake cops.” Pine smacked the table. “I should never have let him go. He was a dead man at that point.”

“You couldn’t have really stopped him,” pointed out Blum.

“He could have come with us.”

“But we can’t collect everyone we run into and try to protect them. We’d all end up dead. But it’s so awful.” She shivered.

Pine eyed Blum. “I think it would be better if you stayed here, Carol. Get a hotel room and lie low for a few days.”

“I use my credit card to get the room and they’ll be knocking on my door in an hour.” She pointed to the screen. “And I don’t want to end up on there with the scroll saying I killed myself.”

“But you could find a place that would take cash.”

Blum shook her head obstinately. “I’m not leaving you to do this alone, Agent Pine. Like you said, we’re a unit, a team. I think we work well together.”

Pine eyed her.

“You don’t think so?” said Blum, frowning.

“I took an oath, you didn’t. I signed up for the danger part, you didn’t.”

Blum waved this off. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I know I’m not a special agent like you, but I did join the FBI, and I promised to do my job the best that I could. And I’m going to live up to my promise. Besides, I shepherded six kids to adulthood without losing any of them. So I can help you, too.”

Pine smiled. “You already saved my life once. Back at the airport.”

Blum leaned across the table and tapped Pine’s hand. “And if the need arises again, I will do so once more. We’re two badass women in a man’s world. What stronger incentive could we possibly have to stick together?”

Pine’s smile deepened. “Actually, I can’t think of a stronger one.”