Second Strike

CHAPTER 21

^{DALLAS FORT WORTH AIRPORT,}

^{AUGUST 15, 11:45 A.M. CDT}

Garin’s flight had been delayed awaiting incoming equipment. He watched the suspected member of Bor’s team move from the bookstore to the wine bar next to it. More than ten minutes had passed and the man had not looked at Garin once.

A final boarding call for an American Airlines flight to Minneapolis came over the loudspeaker. The boarding was beginning at the gate next to Garin’s. The man Garin had been watching drained the last of his wine and casually got in line for the Minneapolis flight. He was close enough now for Garin to get a good look at his face. The man might have been in exceptional shape—possibly law enforcement or military—but on closer examination there was no edge in his eyes. Garin continued watching as the man presented his boarding pass to the ticket agent and disappeared down the Jetway. A few minutes later the door to the Jetway closed.

Garin resumed his reconnaissance of the concourse. There was a spectrum of travelers, male and female, fitting every race, age, and ethnicity. No one struck Garin as especially threatening. But that simply heightened his vigilance.

Bor would send someone. Bor was efficient and paid attention to detail. He would make sure he had eyes on Garin until he was dead. He wouldn’t want Garin to slip through his fingers again.

Garin pulled out one of the burners purchased the previous evening and punched in a series of numbers. “Hopkins long-term upper north four P.M. Standard kit. P226.” He terminated the connection.

Garin was a bit concerned. He was feeling the effects of the Crucible. The intense physical competition was compounded by the events of the last several hours and lack of sleep. Despite Luci’s rubdown, his muscles were tight and his joints ached. He needed to be alert and mobile after his plane touched down in Cleveland.

When his flight began boarding, Garin walked to the end of the line, examining every face he passed. He couldn’t identify anyone as a possible member of Bor’s team.

Garin entered the cabin and was cheerfully greeted by two flight attendants, one about ten years older than the other, both attractive.

“Ma’am, I have a special request,” Garin said politely to the senior attendant. “I’m going to be dead asleep during the flight and prefer not to be disturbed during the beverage service.” Garin scanned the cabin and saw a college-age male seated in the window seat of Row 17, next to a young woman with an infant. “I’m in Row 17.”

“Not a problem.” She smiled.

“But I’ll need a boatload of caffeine when we land.”

“I’m afraid we have to secure the beverage tray before landing. That includes the coffeepots.” She wore a pained expression. “For the safety of passengers and crew.”

“Could you put some coffee in the fridge until we come to a stop at the gate in Cleveland?”

“It’ll be cold.”

“Just how I like it.” Garin nodded. “When everyone’s deplaned I’ll inhale it and be on my way.”

She examined him with a quizzical grin. Garin caught her furtive glance at his ring finger.

“There are restaurants in the terminal.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “But all right. I don’t see why we can’t accommodate you.”

“Thanks so much. A full pot, okay?”

“It will cost you a bundle.”

“I’m good for it,” Garin said as he continued down the aisle.

“I’ll bet he is,” the junior flight attendant whispered.

Garin examined the faces of the passengers one last time before proceeding to Row 17. No one stood out. He excused himself to the woman with the infant and, extending a wad of cash, addressed the college student. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars to switch seats with me. I’m in the middle seat in Row 6. Prefer a window seat.” The guy simply grinned, took the cash, and made his way forward. Garin squeezed into the window seat, placed his gym bag under the seat in front of him, and fastened his safety belt. It was unlikely the woman next to him with the infant was a Bor associate.

He was dead asleep before the flight attendants had finished reciting the safety instructions.