it’s a rotten time to do it, I know.” He paused and studied her face.
Sidney braced herself again; her fingers instinctively gripped the
armrest as she tried hard not to shake. She swallowed an enormous lump
in her throat. The chairman’s eyes were no longer tender.
“Your husband was on a plane to Los Angeles.” He licked his lips
nervously and leaned toward her. “Not at home.” Sidney unconsciously
nodded, as she knew exactly what the next question would be.
“You were aware of this?”
For one brief moment Sidney felt as if she were floating through the
dense clouds without the benefit of a $25 million jet. Time seemed
suspended, but actually only a few seconds had passed before she uttered
her response. “No.” She had never lied to a client before; the word had
escaped her lips before she knew it. She was certain he didn’t believe
her. But it was too late to go back now. Gamble searched her features
for a few more seconds, then sat back in his seat. For the moment he
was motionless, as if satisfied he had made his point. Abruptly, he
patted Sidney’s arm and stood up. “When we land, I’ll have my limo take
you home. You have kids?”
“One daughter.” Sidney stared up at him, bewildered that the
interrogation had ended so suddenly.
“Just tell the driver where to go and he’ll pick her up too. She in day
care?” Sidney nodded. Gamble shook his head. “Every kid’s in damned
day care these days.”
Sidney thought of her plans to stay home to raise Amy. She was a single
parent now. The revelation made her almost dizzy. If Gamble hadn’t
been there, she would have slumped to the floor in agony. She looked up
to find Gamble eyeing her, one hand gingerly rubbing his forehead. “You
need anything else?”
She managed to hold up the empty glass. “Thanks, this helped quite a
bit.”
He took the glass. “Booze usually does.” He started to leave, then
paused. “Triton takes good care of its employees, Sidney. You need
anything–money, funeral arrangements, help with the house or kid, stuff
like that–we have people to handle it. Don’t be afraid to give us a
call.”
“I won’t. Thank you.”
“And if you want to talk anymore about… things”–his eyebrows shot up
suggestively–“you know where to find me.”
He walked off and Richard Lucas quietly resumed his sentry post.
Shaking slightly, Sidney once again closed her eyes. The plane raced
on. All she wanted to do was hold her daughter.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sitting on the side of the bed, the man stripped down to his boxers.
Outside, the sun was not yet up. His body was heavily muscled.
A tattoo of a coiled snake rode on his left biceps. Three packed bags
stood ready by the bedroom door. A U.S. passport, a batch of airline
tickets, cash and identification documents had been waiting for him as
promised. They were in a small leather pouch on top of one of the
travel bags. His name would change once again, not for the first time
in his crime-laden life.
He wouldn’t be fueling any more planes. Not that he would ever need to
work again. The electronic deposit of funds into the offshore account
had been confirmed. He now had the kind of wealth that had eluded him
his entire life despite all his past efforts. Even with his long
experience in criminal matters, his hands still shook as he pulled the
hairpiece, oval turquoise-colored eyeglasses and tinted contacts from a
small bag. Although probably weeks would pass before anyone could
figure out what had happened, in his line of work you always planned for
worst-case scenario. That dictated running immediately and running far.
He was well prepared to do both.
He thought back to recent events. He had tossed the plastic container
into the Potomac River after he had rid it of its contents; it would
never be found. There were no prints to pick up, no other physical
evidence left behind. If they found anything tying him to the plane
sabotage, he would be long gone anyway. Moreover, the name he had been
living under for the last two months would lead them to a complete dead