Alex Kava - Black Friday

Terminal 4a

Sky Harbor International Airport

Maggie watched Patrick from above the ticket area. She stayed on the second floor, close to the rail, but away from the escalators. Looking down on him in his blue jeans and gray hooded sweatshirt, she couldn't shake the feeling of how much he looked like those college boys at Mall of America.

Wurth had equipped all of them with wireless headsets that slipped on over the ear and allowed them to communicate with each other while looking like ordinary passengers, talking on their cell phones. They agreed to keep conversation to a minimum but Maggie insisted Patrick do checkins at fifteen-minute intervals.

"If I can't see you, I want to hear you," she told him earlier as she helped him into his Kevlar vest.

They had been wandering around for a couple of hours now, disguised as passengers, carry-on cases over their shoulders. Patrick had a worn duffel bag and a smartphone. He stopped periodically to look like he was reading or sending text messages. An ordinary kid going back home or back to college after a Thanksgiving holiday. Maggie was impressed. He looked convincing despite his eyes wandering around the entire area, not stopping on any one face long enough to be suspicious. He was better at this than she expected.

Somewhere Nick was watching monitors that corresponded with the new wireless cameras he had installed, several in each terminal's ticket areas. He'd studied the sketch of the Project Manager. They'd all studied the sketch, but only Patrick seemed totally convinced that he'd recognize the man.

New passengers came up the escalators. The first flights of the morning had already left. Maggie felt certain it was to be another morning attack but it could end up being a long day.

She opened a paperback novel and leaned on the rail. It looked like she was reading but her eyes were still looking down below, watching the entrances, scanning the figures in the checkin lines and examining any of the men lingering off to the sides. She also kept checking the faces coming up on the escalator.

"At the newspaper stand," she said, suddenly noticing a man stopped there, wearing a navy blue jacket, trousers, sunglasses and dragging a large, black Pullman.

She glanced down at Patrick and saw him casually wander closer, pretending to be interested in the headlines of the newspaper through the glass on the machine.

"Nope, I don't think so," he said, this time holding up the phone to his ear so anyone who might not see the wireless headset would know he was on the cell phone. "I'm gonna stop off at the restroom. Talk to you later."

The ticket area quickly got crowded again. Bodies and luggage pressed tight, waiting to check in, lined up at self-serve kiosks. She noticed A.D. Kunze down below talking to a woman in a housekeeping uniform. She certainly didn't look like a sniper or a member of the bomb squad, but then that was the whole idea, wasn't it.

When Maggie glanced back she didn't see Patrick. Her breath caught as she searched, straining to keep from looking like she was searching. Where had he gone?

"Patrick?"

In answer, she heard a toilet flush. She saw Kunze look up at her but he didn't smile until he turned away.

Okay, so she was being an overprotective big sister. A few minutes later she noticed Patrick come out of the restroom but he disappeared out of her sight again, just behind the down escalator.

Relax, she told herself. She needed to relax.

Patrick followed the guy from the restroom. He tried to maintain his laid-back, casual pace despite wanting to hurry. He didn't want to lose him in the crowd.

From the back he thought he recognized the Project Manager's walk. Something about the shoulders, thrown back, chest out, almost like a soldier. Yeah, that was it. He kinda walked like a soldier, at attention, alert to everything and everyone around him. Even his head went from side to side, observing without stopping.

He wanted to be sure. He knew there were snipers, air marshals and agents, waiting. One word from him and they'd be swarming the place. He couldn't say anything until he was absolutely sure. He didn't want to screw up. Maggie was counting on him.

The guy went around the corner like he was getting on the escalator. Patrick waited a step or two, pretending to check his phone. He didn't want to follow so close especially if they both got on the escalator. He'd backtrack around the other way. Maybe he could get a better look from the other side.

He turned to do just that and almost bumped into the guy.

"You forgot that I could recognize you, too," he told Patrick, flashing him a smile as he pressed him against the wall of the escalator, pinning him in with a heavy, black Pullman.

Maggie leaned against the railing and glanced at her watch. It hadn't been five minutes. He had been out of her sight for only five minutes. She restrained herself from calling him again.

If Nick had seen the Project Manager come through any of the front doors he would have alerted them. Unless he disguised himself.

No, don't do that, she told herself. Don't speculate. She didn't need to second-guess herself.

Was it possible the Project Manager had someone else drop off the bag? Had he already been here and left it somewhere?

She looked out over the floor below now packed with passengers and their luggage, little kids dragging behind parents, senior citizens shuffling through the tight passes. She tried to watch for bags that didn't move along with any passengers in the long, slow checkin lines. Wurth walked past her, keeping to the railing. He was doing the same thing, watching for bags left behind. A.D. Kunze did the same down below.

Maggie glanced back looking for Patrick. She was just about to call him when she saw him come out from behind the barrier. Only now he was dragging a black Pullman behind him. Her stomach fell to her knees even before she saw the glint of the handcuffs.

"He's got Patrick," she whispered into her headset.

"Yes, he does," came a voice she didn't recognize.

Patrick couldn't see Maggie's face from where he stood. He tried not to look directly at her. He knew that's what the Project Manager was waiting for. He could talk to them with Patrick's headset but he didn't know exactly who they were or where they were. He was standing off to the side now, about thirty feet away, watching and waiting for Patrick to give away their locations.

Damn it! He really screwed this up.

It happened so quickly. One minute the guy was in front of him, disappearing around the corner and the next minute he was behind Patrick, slipping the cuffs on him and chaining him to the handle of the Pullman.

The guy looked different enough that Patrick hadn't been sure. Back at the mall he had worn a ball cap but his hair had also been much longer and dark. Now it was bristle-short and almost blond. He'd had facial hair, too, a clipped goatee. Now he was clean-shaven. He wore a golf shirt, navy canvas jacket, khaki trousers and leather loafers. No ball cap. But it was the walk that drew Patrick's attention. By the time he was able to look the guy in the eyes, it was too late.

Off to the side Patrick could see A.D. Kunze. He stopped himself from looking over. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see that Kunze wasn't looking at him, either. He was talking to a cleaning woman, standing by her cart.

He glanced up to Maggie. Son of a bitch! The Project Manager caught him and followed his line of vision. But Maggie was gone.

He saw the guy's lips moving. He was talking to them, using Patrick's headset. What the hell was he telling them? He'd moved away from Patrick quickly. So quickly Patrick wasn't sure if anyone had seen him. Would they know which one he was? Could they tell?