Rick Mofina - Free Fall

“Yes, they predicted the event. It means they had to have been behind it.”

“We’ve got to alert people,” Utley said.

“They’re going to have to ground everything.”

Los Angeles, California

At LAX, Kate eyed the screen above the agent’s desk at her gate.

Her flight’s departure was still on time.

Good.

She resumed studying the TV monitor above the seating area, watching CTNB while focusing on the ticker crawling at the bottom of the screen. The news was about an economic downturn. Nothing on the flights had emerged.

Kate continued watching until her flight, Trans Peak Airlines Flight 2230, nonstop to JFK, was called. The plane was the largest in the airline’s fleet, the five-hundred-seat Ultra Supreme 880. It had a stellar safety record. Kate had checked it to offset the nervousness rippling through her about flying today.

She remained locked on CTNB until her row was called.

Despite being a sold-out flight, the boarding process went quickly, Kate thought after she’d stored her bag in the overhead bin, settled into her window seat and fastened her seat belt. Some fifteen minutes later, the jetliner taxied into position and waited for clearance to take off.

The engines roared as the big plane accelerated down the runway, pushing Kate deep into her seat. Great, she thought, as it lifted off and climbed over Southern California. The sooner she got back, the sooner she could dig into Robert Cole’s life.

On the ground, as the 880 disappeared from the sky over Los Angeles, the faces of Seth Hagen, Veyda Cole and her father, Robert Cole, appeared on CTNB.

News was breaking that the FBI had identified them as the most wanted people in the country.

Weld County, Colorado

Veyda and Seth’s SUV cut across a desolate stretch of the high plains.

They’d left Denver, heading north on Highway 85. After passing through Greeley, they were now traveling east.

“Not too much farther,” Seth said.

While he concentrated on the GPS and his laptop, Veyda took in the miles and miles of flat, arid land. The farther they drove, the fewer cars they saw. It was spiritual here, she thought, loving how the sky met the horizon on even terms. She couldn’t help but think of her father’s video.

Veyda, sweetheart, this is your father. Whatever you’re doing or thinking of doing, please stop… I’m begging you… You will always be my daughter and I will always be your father. I love you…

Her eyes stung and she shook her head.

You’re not my father and I am not your daughter . She remembered how her mother had died. No, you’re not my father and I’m not your daughter.

She saw her father’s face, the kind face she’d once adored, saw his pain.

I’m begging you… I will always be your father. I love you…

She wiped her eyes.

No, I won’t let you stop me .

She gritted her teeth, standing hard against the waves of sentimentality rising within her. Her knuckles whitened on the wheel, her blind determination killing any notion of doubt.

“Turn left at that gate post,” Seth said.

He guided her along a secondary road that after several miles became an earthen path. Soon the main road had disappeared behind them in the small hills. The path was akin to a trail, undulating several more miles along a dry, uninhabited extent of treeless land.

“Slow it down. We’re nearly here.”

The SUV continued, gently twisting over the soft, grassy trail until they crested a gentle slope that swept down to a winding river and panoramic expanse.

“Stop-this is it. Let’s get to work.”

No other people or buildings were in sight as they unloaded their laptop computers to a thick patch of grass near the car and switched them on.

Their high-powered systems were equipped with wireless satellite technology, giving them optimum online access. For the next twenty minutes, Seth carefully entered coordinates, codes and other data into his system as Veyda watched over his shoulder, double-checking the process. Occasionally, they’d pause to discuss a code sequence, but their work proceeded swiftly.

Seth turned to Veyda.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” she said.

A soft click sounded when Seth pressed the enter key, unleashing their greatest operation.

“It’s done. It’s in motion,” he said. “Nothing can stop it. Soon everyone on the planet will be speaking our names.”

Tears rolled down Veyda’s face as she and Seth kissed, celebrating what was to come.

The gun waited on the grass beside them.

Washington, DC

Southbound on the Red Line Metro, Robert Cole closed his eyes and took another breath while mentally reciting what had become his mantra since boarding the train.

If they give me the chance I can show them how to stop the breach.

The train eased into Van Ness and, as he’d done at each previous station, Cole looked at his phone to see if he was connected.

He was.

He was going to check news sites, but first he went to his photos, almost smiling back at his wife who smiled at him from the screen. Staring into her eyes, he could almost hear her voice, inhale her scent and feel her skin.

I’m going to fix everything. This is my fault. I’m going to find Veyda before she hurts any more people, or the police hurt her. She’s sick and she needs help. I swear to you, Elizabeth, I’ll fix it .

The train began to roll out of the station and Cole quickly checked the news. He went to the Washington Post ’s online edition.

Shock shot through him.

His photograph, Veyda’s and that of a young man he didn’t know were displayed together under a breaking news banner:

FBI Hunts for American Trio in London Plane Tragedy.

Cole read the short news story before he lost his internet connection. His hand shook just as the train jolted and he lost his grip on his phone. It fell to the floor of his crowded car and he caught his breath. The woman seated next to him reached down and retrieved it for him.

“Thank you,” he said, relieved the internet link had been lost.

“No problem.” She smiled.

His heart racing, Cole put his phone in his pocket and subtly surveyed the car’s commuters. They were reading, sleeping, talking, or looking at nothing. No one was looking at him. At least, no one that he was aware of.

Cole lowered his head, took documents from his briefcase and pulled them close to his face, pretending to read.

Take it easy. Take another breath. Remain calm. I just have to get to L’Enfant Plaza station and NTSB headquarters. It won’t be much longer.

Cole exhaled.

Then somewhere before Cleveland station, the train slowed in the tunnel before coming to a complete stop.

Cole’s heart slammed against his rib cage.

Two uniformed police officers had entered his car and were headed in his direction.

Denver, Colorado

An unmarked white Chevy Trailblazer, its emergency lights wigwagging in the grille, idled at Denver International Airport.

Nick Varner, who’d been alerted to his pickup, spotted it upon arriving after his ninety-minute United Airlines flight from Williston, North Dakota.

An FBI agent got out of the vehicle to greet him and take his bag.

“Mitch Butler. We met at the Chicago conference.”

“Hey, Mitch. Thanks.”

“Welcome to Denver, Nick.” Butler opened the passenger door for him. “Let’s get rolling.”

The SUV pulled away with its lights flashing and threaded through traffic. In minutes they were speeding northbound on 85 as Butler updated Varner.