Nick watched the black suited man with interest. Longish brown hair brushed straight back, thin and nearly Nick’s height, the man seemed like the normal bureaucrat. Nick didn’t like the way his eyes narrowed when asked for his ID. They swallowed the bait. “Call the AG’s office, Grace. Don’t stop badgering the person on the other end until you get the AG on the line.”
The man immediately turned to run. Nick tripped him. Grace and Tim flashed their badges and ID’s in high and visible form, waving as security personnel flocked to the scene. Nick helped the man up, keeping him in an arm hold behind his back. “This guy has to come with us, Grace.”
“Can we get a plastic tie from one of you guys,” Tim asked. He accepted one from a burly airport security officer, and handed it to Nick. “What do you think this means, Nick?”
“It means we need to interrogate our airport greeter here in a private spot.”
“I want a lawyer,” thin man stated, as they hustled him through the crowded Ronald Reagan National Airport. “I’m not saying shit to you assholes.”
“I already know who sent you,” Nick said. “Ansom Rahil and Uthman Sadun must have gotten antsy when they received word from their killer minions at the Sunrise Inn, and decided to handle obtaining the chip personally. They have gone all in for the chip.”
The man’s blustering looks gave way to cunning immediately. The mention of Rahil and Sadun wiped away all pretense. “There’s plenty to be had in this deal if you idiots play ball. I can get you each a cool million apiece.”
“Maybe he’s right,” Nick said. “He must have a vehicle here to take us somewhere. Maybe they do have a deal for us.”
Confidence replaced cunning on the man’s features in an instant at Nick’s opening. “Damn right! There’s enough in this for all of us. You three have the chip… right?”
Grace held it so he could see the small case. “We have it, and we know what it’s worth. If you think we’d hand it over to you for a million each, while putting a target on our backs, and losing our jobs and protection, you’re out of your fucking mind.”
“The important thing is we can work the details out. Come with me, and we’ll settle this out any way you want.”
Nick, Tim, and Grace did a credible job of exchanging questioning looks. “I’m in, but we keep this guy restrained until I see whether his cohorts were here to kill us rather than take us anywhere.”
“I’m with Nick on this,” Tim said, giving Grace an award winning look of feral excitement. “We could be set for life.”
Grace walked away as if in intense thought as to what they should do.
“Ditch her if she doesn’t get on board with us,” their greeter urged, staring at Grace’s figure uneasily.
“Shut up,” Tim said. “If Grace says take you somewhere and cut you into little pieces, that’s what we’ll do. Best hope she agrees to our way of thinking.”
Fear replaced all other features on the man’s face as he watched Grace.
“Best you start sayin’ your prayers, champ,” Nick said. “What’s your name anyway?”
“Uh… Clyde… Clyde Faulkner. We’ll all be rich if you shits can sway your partner.”
Grace walked back toward them, her demeanor one of reluctant surrender. “Okay… where’s your ride?”
“They’ll meet us outside baggage,” Faulkner stated excitedly. “You three are the key. We’ll be rich. How did you know about Rahil and Sadun?”
“Did you think we wouldn’t check out every element in this case after three bozos torture two of our group to death?” Nick watched Faulkner with intense indifference. Clyde was a building block to get his hands on Rahil and Sadun.
Clyde shifted to apologetic mode in a split second. “No… that was a mistake. Those three got impatient. We’ll make that right.”
They reached baggage with Nick taking charge of Clyde. All he had was a carryon bag over his shoulder. After Tim and Grace retrieved their luggage, they let Clyde lead the way out to the vehicle waiting for them. A black Grand Caravan drove up. The moment it stopped, the side sliding door opened to a man holding an Uzi. Nick threw their captive at him, and then he was inside. Gripping the gunman’s head as he struggled with his burden, Nick ripped the man’s head with a powerful wrench of hands and body twist, snapping his neck. The driver, caught unawares, reached for his own weapon, but only cleared it halfway from its holster when Nick caught his wrist. The snapping sounds of bones being pulverized elicited a scream of pure anguish.
“Nick!”
Nick released the driver’s wrist with reluctance at the sound of Grace’s reprimand. He had forgotten for a moment about Tim and Grace. With a quick upward jerk, Nick tore the driver out of his seat, and into the rear of the vehicle. He then vaulted into the driver’s seat while Grace and Tim hustled their luggage inside while securing the prisoners that were still alive. Nick eased into the airport traffic congestion without a backward glance.