The Winner by David Baldacci

“Why?” Jackson said quickly. He expertly maneuvered in the high heels.

LuAnn shrugged. “Just wondering. He’d been taking me around before. I thought I’d see him today.”

“I’m afraid Charlie’s duties with you are at an end.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry, LuAnn, you’re in much better hands.” They entered the terminal and Jackson glanced up ahead. “Please act natural; we’re twin sisters, if anyone asks, which they won’t. However, I have identification to support that cover just in case they do. Let me do the talking.”

LuAnn looked up ahead and swallowed quickly as she eyed the quartet of police officers carefully scrutinizing each of the patrons at the crowded airport.

They passed by the officers, who did indeed stare at them. One even took a moment to check out Jackson’s long legs as the coat he was wearing flapped open. Jackson seemed pleased at the attention. Then, just as Jackson had predicted, the police quickly lost interest in them and focused on other persons coming into the terminal.

Jackson and LuAnn stopped near the international flight check-in for British Airways. “I’ll check in at the ticket counter for you while you wait over near that snack bar.” Jackson pointed across the broad aisle of the terminal.

“Why can’t I check in myself?”

“How many times have you flown overseas?”

“I ain’t never flown.”

“Precisely. I can get through the process a lot faster than you. If you messed up something, said something you weren’t supposed to, then we might attract some attention that we don’t really need right now. Airline personnel aren’t the most security conscious people I’ve ever run across but they’re not idiots either and you’d be surprised what they pick up on.”

“All right. I don’t want to mess nothing up.”

“Good, now give me your passport, the one I just gave you.” LuAnn did so and watched as Jackson, the skycap behind him, swung Lisa’s baby carrier in one hand as he sauntered over to the ticket counter. Jackson had even picked up that mannerism of hers. LuAnn shook her head in awe and moved over to the spot designated by Jackson.

Jackson was in the very short first-class line and it moved very quickly. He rejoined LuAnn in a few minutes. “So far, so good. Now, I wouldn’t recommend changing your appearance for several months. You can wash the red dye out of course, although, frankly, I think the color works well on you.” His eyes twinkled. “Once things die down, and your hair grows out, you can use the passport I originally made up for you.” He handed a second U.S. passport to her, which she quickly put in her bag.

From the corner of his eye, Jackson watched as two men and a woman all dressed in suits moved down the aisle, their eyes sweeping the area. Jackson cleared his throat and LuAnn glanced in their direction and then away again. LuAnn had spied, in one of their hands, a piece of paper. On it was a picture of her, no doubt taken at the press conference. She froze until she felt Jackson’s hand inside hers. He gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Those are FBI agents. But just remember that you don’t look anything like that photo now. It’s as if you’re invisible.” His confident tones assuaged her fears. Jackson moved forward. “Your flight leaves in twenty minutes. Follow me.” They went through security and down to the departure gate and sat down in the waiting area.

“Here.” Jackson handed her the passport, along with a small packet. “There’s cash, credit cards, and an international driver’s license in there, all in your new name. And your new appearance with respect to the driver’s license.” He took a moment to toy with her hair in a completely clinical fashion. He scrutinized her altered features and came away duly impressed with himself again. Jackson took a moment to grip her by the hand and even patted her shoulder. “Good luck. If you find yourself in difficulty at any time, here is a phone number that will reach me anywhere in the world day or night. I will tell you, though, that unless there is a problem you and I will never meet or speak to each other again.” He handed her the card with the number on it.

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