Noah was about to leave the website when he thought he’d see if there was a photo of the current residents. There was, and it looked to him like an impressively cosmopolitan group. He then noticed something else of interest. There were archived photos going back to the first year of the residency program. Noah brought up the photo for 2012, the year Ava had finished, and began searching for her. At first he didn’t find her, but then he did. She was in the back row peering directly at the camera between two much larger male colleagues. To Noah, she looked exactly as she did currently, although her hair seemed significantly blonder.
After closing down the computer, Noah exited the business center. His plan was to go back to his room and attempt to sleep. As keyed up as he was, he knew it was going to be a struggle, especially in unfamiliar surroundings. In many ways, Noah was a creature of habit. Even when it came to the on-call room in the hospital, he usually always slept in the same one. Not relishing lying in the bed for hours tossing and turning and giving his paranoia free rein, Noah decided to go to the hotel’s bar for a beer. It was out of the ordinary for him to do such a thing, but this was not an ordinary time. He thought the diversion and the small amount of alcohol might help calm him.
39
THURSDAY, AUGUST 17, 6:13 A.M.
“A bit more than twenty-four hours ago, I had never even heard of Lubbock, Texas,” Keyon complained. “Now I’ve been here twice.”
“Who would have guessed,” George said.
The same Citation X plane that had taken the two men back and forth the previous day had again been pressed into service by ABC Security and had just touched down at the Preston Smith Airport. The urgency for the second trip was considered just as critical as it had been for the first. Dr. Noah Rothauser had to be sanctioned immediately.
As soon as George had determined Noah had left Boston on a plane bound for Dallas, Texas, the previous morning, he assumed that Noah’s ultimate destination had to be Lubbock. Rushing back to Keyon in the van, they had immediately called their controller at the home office to give him the surprising and disturbing news. At first it gave them a sense of vindication, since they had been complaining about Noah for a week without getting the go-ahead to take care of him. But any pleasure was short-lived because they were ordered to return to Lubbock and do what needed to be done. The only problem was that the pilots who were cleared to work for ABC Security had to take their FAA-required rest. To add to the delay, there was a minor mechanical problem with the aircraft that had to be fixed. The result was that Keyon and George had not left Bedford, Massachusetts, until a little after 2:00 A.M.
They had used the delay to good advantage, getting some needed rest and then using their resources in their Boston office to locate Dr. Noah Rothauser at room 504 at Embassy Suites Hotel. They also used the time and the equipment they had to make up a fake Massachusetts driver’s license using George’s picture.
Again, there was a Chevrolet Suburban waiting for them at the General Aviation terminal, and within twenty minutes of touchdown they were on the Interstate, heading toward Lubbock.
“This place doesn’t look that much different in the daytime,” Keyon commented, looking out at the vast horizon. He was driving.
“It’s as flat as parts of Iraq,” George said.
“Don’t remind me,” Keyon answered.
Arriving at the hotel before 7:00 A.M., there was no activity in the parking lot. George parked as close to the entrance as possible, putting the ignition key behind the visor in case one of them had to leave without the other. Before they got out, both checked their respective weapons, the Smith and Wesson for George and the Berretta for Keyon.
“Ready?” George questioned.
“Let’s do it,” Keyon said.
They walked quickly but not too quickly, to avoid being conspicuous. There were four taxis waiting in queue, with all four drivers sipping coffee in their respective vehicles. Inside the building, the reception area was deserted except for a single person standing at the front desk being helped by a single hotel employee. George and Keyon walked up and stood in line.
Dressed in their normal suits and ties, Keyon and George were confident that they wouldn’t attract any attention. They were just two traveling businessmen like so many others, including the man in front of them.
“Can I help you?” the hotel employee said pleasantly when it was their turn.
“You certainly can,” George said with a smile. “I left my room card in the room. My name is Noah Rothauser, and I’m staying in room five-oh-four.”
“Certainly,” the hotel employee said. “Would you mind showing me some identification?”
“Not at all,” George said. He pulled out his wallet and handed over the fake driver’s license.
The hotel employee briefly glanced at it and handed it back. After placing a blank room card in the appropriate slot, he produced a room key, and with a few clicks on his keyboard, he handed it over.
“Much obliged,” George said, brandishing the key.
George and Keyon went to the elevators, making small talk for the benefit of the employee behind the desk. They boarded the car that was waiting. Keyon pressed five. A moment later the door closed and the car rose.
“It’s looking good so far,” Keyon said. “Nice and quiet.”
George nodded but didn’t speak. He was never as calm as Keyon and always felt tense until the action started. He’d had no trouble engaging in the banter, but now that they were alone, he preferred to concentrate on what was going to happen in the next ten minutes and think about possible contingencies.
Arriving at the fifth floor, they stepped out into the main corridor that ran the length of the building. They could see there were exit stairwells at both ends, which could be important if there were problems. No one was in sight.
They exchanged a silent glance, then moved down to room 504 and took up positions on either side of the door. After checking their weapons in their shoulder holsters, Keyon leaned forward and put his ear against the door’s upper panel. He listened for a moment, then gave a thumbs-up sign.
Following a final glance up and down the hallway, George inserted the card key. There was a quiet click and a small green light materialized above the handle. After a final nod between the two, George opened the door and the two men rushed inside the room with their pistols in their hands.
They expected to find Noah in the bed, but it was empty. Using hand signals, Keyon pointed toward the closed bathroom door. George nodded and they repeated the maneuver they had used on the outer door. A moment later they were shocked and dismayed to find the bathroom dark and empty.
“Shit!” Keyon snapped.
“I thought it was going too well,” George said. “The bastard must be down at breakfast.” Both men reholstered their weapons.
They returned to the main part of the room. Keyon closed the outer door, which they had left open in their haste. George took the club chair by the window. Keyon stretched out on the king-size bed after pulling the bedspread up over the pillows. He put his hands comfortably behind his head. They thought it best to wait for Noah’s return rather than seeking him out in the breakfast room.
“How long do you think we should wait?” George asked after just a few minutes. “I don’t like this. He could be off causing trouble already.”