TOTAL CONTROL By: David Baldacci

to be sure. She frantically searched her memory for the airline her

husband was on. She called information and got the number for United

Airlines. She finally got through to a human being and was told that

the airline did have an early morning flight to L.A. from Dulles but

there had been no reports of any airline crash. The woman seemed

reluctant to discuss the subject over the telephone and Sidney hung up

with fresh doubts. Next she called American and, after that, Western

Airlines. She could not get through to an actual person at either

airline. The lines seemed to be jammed with calls. She tried again,

with the same result. A numbness slowly coursed through her body.

George Beard touched her arm again.

“Sidney… ma’am, is everything okay?” Sidney didn’t answer. She

continued to stare ahead, oblivious to everything except the certainty

that she would race off the plane as soon as it landed.

CHAPTER SIX

Jason Archer looked at the SkyWord pager and the number etched ‘across

its tiny screen. He rubbed at his chin and then took off his glasses

and wiped them on his lunch napkin. This was his wife’s direct office

number. Like his wife’s plane the DC-10 he was flying on also had

cellular phones recessed into the backs of every other seat.

He had started to reach for the phone and then stopped. He knew Sidney

was in her firm’s New York office today, which was why the leaving of

her D.C. office number puzzled him. For a terrifying instant, he

thought something might be wrong with Amy. He checked his SkyWord pager

again. The call had come in at nine-thirty ^.M. EST. He shook his

head. His wife would have been on a plane halfway to New York at that

time. It wouldn’t have had anything to do with Amy. Their daughter

would have been at day care before eight. Was she calling to apologize

for hanging up on him earlier?

That, he concluded, was far from likely. That exchange didn’t even

qualify for minor spat status. It didn’t make any sense. Why on earth

would she be calling him from a plane and leaving the number of an

office at which he knew she would not be?

His face suddenly went pale. Unless it was not his wife who had called.

Given the bizarre circumstances, Jason concluded that it was probably

not his wife who had placed that call. He instinctively scanned the

cabin. The in-flight movie droned on from the pull-down screen.

He sat back in his seat and stirred the remains of his coffee with a

plastic spoon. The flight attendants were clearing away meal plates and

offering pillows and blankets. Jason’s hand curled protectively around

the handle of the leather briefcase. He glanced at the case containing

his laptop where it was stowed under the seat in front of him. Maybe

her trip had been canceled; however, Gamble was already in New York and

nobody canceled on Nathan Gamble, Jason knew that. Besides, the

CyberCom deal was at a critical stage.

He leaned back farther in his seat, his hand fingering the Sky-Word

pager like a ball of putty. If he placed the call to his wife’s

of-rice, what then? Would he be relayed to New York? Should he call

home to check messages? Any communication option at this juncture

required him to use a cellular phone. He was carrying a new,

sophisticated model in his briefcase, one with the latest security and

scrambler capabilities; however, he was prohibited by airline

regulations from using it. He would have to use the one supplied by the

airline, in which case he would also have to use a credit or phone card.

And it was not a secure line. That would allow opportunities, however

remote, for his location to be ascertained. At the bare minimum, there

would be a discernible trail. He was supposed to be heading to L.A.;

instead he was thirty-one thousand feet above Denver, Colorado, on his

way to the Pacific Northwest. This unexpected bump was acutely

disturbing after all the careful planning. He hoped it was not a

precursor of things to come.

Jason looked at the pager again. The SkyWord pager had a headline news

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