F Wilson: Fatal Error

"How long do we stay here?"

"We can try heading back to the city in the morning. It will be warmer then and, well, most likely we'll have to walk."

Her eyebrows lifted. "You really think so?"

"I do. Maybe not all the way. Your place is less than ten miles from here. Maybe some of the traffic will thin out overnight. Maybe we can cover some of the distance in a cab. It'll be cold, but we'll make it. And then we'll all be back home and feeling like we've won the lottery."

She leaned against him. "I'd give anything to be there now." She straightened and looked around. "Any sign of…?"

"Your fans?"

Jack too took a quick look and saw nothing. Not that he could see very far. Every square foot of floor seemed occupied-those not standing were sitting on their suitcases. No one looked happy.

"Nah. Been watching. Didn't you say they had a friend nearby?"

She nodded. "They said their buddy Jake lives a mile from here and it was going to be 'party time.' "

"How could you turn down an offer like that?"

"Well, it wasn't easy, and under normal circumstances I'd jump at the chance-you know me, right?"

"World's number-one partay babe."

"You got it. But I know how cranky you get when I run off to partay with complete strangers."

"Yeah, well, but I'm in therapy for that-deep into multiple twelve-step programs-so you could've gone."

"Really? If only I'd known. I-" She looked around again and shook her head. "Sorry. Nothing funny about those two."

"No argument. But they're probably at their friend's place getting loaded. And even if they're still here, they aren't armed-"

"How can you be sure?"

"Well, they were on the flight with you." He lowered his voice. "You can sneak certain types of weapons aboard a plane these days"-he'd done it-"but neither of them struck me as having the wattage to pull it off."

"Well… I hope you're right."

He shrugged. "Even if I'm not, doesn't matter. I didn't have to go through security."

She lowered her own voice as she looked at him. "So you're…"

"Of course."

She snuggled against him again. "I can't believe how much comfort I'm taking from that."

"Ms. No-guns sees the light?"

"I was never antigun. My father has shotguns for hunting pheasant. And though I'm not crazy about the idea of going out and shooting harmless birds, it's part of life out there. But he stored them in a loft in the garage. Guns around the house, especially handguns, make me uncomfortable. Own all the guns you want, just not near me."

Jack smiled. "But I gather you'll admit to an occasional exception?"

"Don't rub it in."

Vicky twisted in her lap. "I'm hungry."

"I'm Mommy," Gia said. "Pleased to meet you, Hungry."

Vicky rolled her eyes. They went through this all the time. "Can I pleeeease have something to eat?"

"Sure you're not just bored?"

She clutched her throat and spoke in a strangled voice. "I'm staaaarving!"

Gia fished in her bag and came up with one of the big soft pretzels Jack had bought earlier. She gave Vicky half and tucked the rest away.

"Can't I have the whole thing?"

"If you finish that and you're still hungry, we'll see. We've got a long night ahead of us."

Jack watched her shrug and take a hefty bite. He saw Gia squirm under Vicky. She didn't weigh much, but she'd been perched on her mother's lap for a good hour.

"Want me to take her?"

"That's okay. I-"

"Hey!" Vicky cried.

Jack looked up and saw Gabe taking a big bite out of Vicky's pretzel. His left ear was red and swollen, and someone-the first aid station?-had taped his damaged pointer to its neighbor. Three welted scrapes ran across his forehead and the bridge of his nose-Gia's work. Angelo stood behind him, smirking. They'd squeezed through the crowd to wind up in front of them.

He spit out the bite and made a face.

"These things taste like shit without mustard."

Then he dropped the remainder and ground it under his sneaker.

Vicky began to cry. The sound hurled Jack to the brink. He felt the door to where he kept the darkness penned explode off its hinges. His muscles tensed, readying to leap at Gabe and rip out his throat, when he felt slim fingers grip his thigh.

"Don't," Gia said in a low voice. "He's goading you."

"Ya think?" His voice sounded far away, the words like croaks.

But she was right. A fight here could trigger a panic, endangering Gia and Vicky.

He let the darkness flow through him, saturating him without controlling him.

He locked eyes with Gabe and saw him flinch. Some of the confidence seemed to drain from him.

"We need to talk."

Gabe blinked. "Talk?"

"Yeah. Someplace private."

Gabe grinned, his cockiness back. "Oh, I getcha. Yeah. Private. I know just the place."

"I'll bet you do."

"Jack, don't," Gia said, increasing the pressure on his thigh.

"It's okay," he said, rising. He lifted the sobbing Vicky from Gia's lap and put her in his seat. "We're just going to talk." He glanced at Gabe. "Right?"

The grin widened. "Right."

She grabbed his hand. "Please, Jack. They've got something planned."

He looked down at her worried face and winked. Then pulled the hood farther forward to hide more of his face.

"We'll just talk. Like two civilized adults." He pulled free and turned to Gabe and Angelo. "Lead on."

"Jack, no!"

He waved but didn't look back. Gabe turned and began moving away. Angelo tried to fall in behind Jack.

"As if," Jack said, pointing to the spot behind his pal. "After you."

"You like making little girls cry?" Jack said as they forced their way through the crowd.

"Yeah," Gabe said over his shoulder. "I like making big girls cry even more. Like your GF. Oh, man, that bitch gonna cryyyyyyy for more when I do her."

Jack let the words roll off. Because they were only words. But this guy had assaulted Gia, and made Vicky cry. Actions… actions didn't roll off. Actions demanded reaction. And reaction was on the way.

He knew these guys-not these two in particular, but their type. He ran into them all the time. They weren't schooled, but they weren't dumb. They possessed a cunning lupine radar for when a situation could be turned to their advantage. They sensed the veneer of civilization thinning here and they were responding. They knew nothing about the Internet, but they knew this was no ordinary night. Opportunities were knocking and they were eager to answer the door.

Jack had been assessing the situation as he followed in their wake through the throng. They'd made sure to provoke him past the point where few men could remain passive. That meant they had a plan-and from the way Gabe had agreed to "someplace private," Jack figured getting him alone had been part of the plan all along. Too many witnesses and cell phone cameras in the Central Terminal.

This could go down a number of ways.

Get him alone and pound him to a pulp with some improvised weapon; Jack didn't see any sign of one on either of them, but they could have it waiting for them.

Or they could have a gun or a knife, delivered by their pal, Jake. Who knew? Jake himself might be waiting wherever they were leading him, ready to partake in the beat down.

They reached an EMPLOYEES ONLY door in a recess near some restrooms. People were huddled against the door, just as they huddled in every square foot of the terminal.

"Come on, move your asses," Gabe said. "I told you before, y'gotta keep this door clear."

Before… that meant he'd been through here recently.

"Yeah, clear," Angelo said.

Gabe pulled out a plastic card and swiped it through the reader.

"You work here?" Jack said.

"Nah. Got a friend who does."

Would his name be Jake, perhaps?