riveted on the mass of smoky, blackened wreckage that had once been a
proud member of the Western Airlines fleet. George Beard’s face
appeared in her mind. His low, confidential tones assailed her. Them
was a plane crash.
The voice on the phone beckoned to her. “Ms. Archer, I’m afraid
there’s been an incident involving one of our aircraft.”
Sidney Archer heard no more. Her hand slowly descended to her side. Her
fingers involuntarily opened and the phone receiver fell to the thickly
carpeted floor.
Outside, the snow continued to pour down so forcefully it resembled one
of the city’s famous ticker-tape parades. The cold winds hurled
themselves against the broad array of windows, and Sidney Archer
continued to stare in complete disbelief at the crater containing the
remains of Flight 3223.
CHAPTER EIGHT
One man, dark-haired, with a cleft chin below chubby cheeks, dressed in
a fashionable two-piece suit and clearly introducing himself as William,
met Jason Archer at the airport gate in Seattle. The two exchanged a
couple of sentences, each composed of seemingly arbitrary words. The
coded greeting successfully exchanged, they walked off together. As
William went through the exit doors to signal for their ride, Jason took
the opportunity to unobtrusively deposit a padded envelope into a U.S.
mailbox located to the right of the exit door. Inside the envelope was
the copy of the computer diskette he had made before leaving home.
Jason was quickly escorted to a limousine that had pulled up to the curb
on William’s signal. Inside the limo William presented identification
to Jason that revealed his name actually to be Anthony DePazza. A few
words of innocuous conversation were exchanged, but nothing further, as
the men settled back into the deep leather. Another man, dressed in a
conservative brown suit, drove.
During the ride, at DePazza’s suggestion, Jason took the opportunity to
remove the wig and mustache.
The leather briefcase rode on Jason’s lap. Occasionally DePazza would
eye it and then continue to stare out the window. Had Jason observed a
little more closely, he would have noticed the bulge and occasional
glint of metal under DePazza’s jacket. The Glock M-17 9mm was a
particularly deadly piece of ordnance. The driver was similarly
equipped. Even if Jason had seen the weaponry, however, it would not
have surprised him. Indeed, he expected them to carry guns.
The limo headed east away from Puget Sound. Jason looked out the tinted
windows. The sky was overcast, and drops of rain splattered against the
window. From his small pool of meteorological knowledge, Jason knew
this weather was apparently a fixture for Seattle.
Within half an hour the limo had reached its destination: a collection
of warehouse buildings that were accessed through an electric gate where
a guam was stationed.
Jason looked around nervously, but said nothing. He had been told to
expect unusual meeting conditions. They entered one of the warehouses
through a metal overhead door that rose up as the limo approached.
Exiting the vehicle, Jason could see the door closing.
The only light came from a daple of overhead light that were in need
of cleaning. A set of stairs was at one end of the vast space. The men
motioned for Jason to follow them. Jason looked around and felt an
uneasiness start to wash over him. With an effort he brushed aside the
feeling, took a deep breath and walked toward the stairs.
Up the stairs, they entered a narrow doorway to a small, windowless
room. The driver waited outside. DePazza hit the light switch. Jason
looked around. The furnishings consisted of one cam table, a couple of
chairs and a battered file cabinet with holes rusted through.
Completely unknown to Jason, a surveillance camera, activated as soon as
the light in the small room had been turned on, looked out from one of
the file cabinet’s rusty apertures, silently recording the even rs.
DePazza sat down in one of the chairs and motioned for Jason to do
likewise. “Shouldn’t be long now,” DePazza said in a friendly tone. He
flipped out a cigarette and offered another to Jason, who shook his
head. “Just remember, Jason, don’t do any talking. They only want