Incarceration (Jet #10)

“You’re welcome,” the receptionist said, the tension in her voice demonstrating her concern. Matt could sympathize with the woman. The school was chartered with the children’s well-being, and anything that disrupted its orderly operation posed a potential problem for the staff. Her tone made it clear that the school didn’t appreciate having its students pulled out of class on a whim, even if he had the written authority to do so as Hannah’s father – at least, according to the documentation they’d filled out.

He hung up and drifted toward the curb, where a corner market’s open doors featured a dazzling display of brightly colored junk food. He needed a few minutes to think through how he was going to approach the school without being seen, and negotiating morning traffic was demanding too much of his bandwidth. He stopped the bike, shut off the engine, and walked inside in search of a bottle of caffeinated soda. The adrenaline that had surged through him at the sight of the attic window had faded, leaving him groggy and dim. He needed some carbohydrates and Coke, and quickly, because the coming hours were likely going to demand every resource he could muster, and even the smallest miscalculation could cost him everything.





Chapter 13





Jet sat motionless on the steel bench in the jail holding cell and cleared her mind of the fury and worry that were clouding her thinking, using a meditative technique she’d learned as part of her Mossad training. She silently repeated a two-syllable word over and over, and the mantra occupied her focus, diminishing the force of the agitated emotions until they were mere echoes of their prior selves. Once her imagination had quieted, she allowed herself to connect to the still place from which her power emanated, drawing from it like a shipwrecked sailor drinking from a newfound spring.

Her breathing slowed till her chest was barely moving, her inhalations so shallow as to be barely noticeable, and her body flooded with a glacial calm, untroubled by anything, at one with the cosmos. Thoughts flitted on the periphery of her consciousness, but she ignored them, repeating the mantra until that too faded to nothingness, and she simply…was.

She remained like that for half an hour and then reluctantly returned to a surface wakefulness that banished the more complete sensation of connectedness, replacing it with sound, sight, and smell. She stirred and slowly opened her eyes, invigorated and cleansed, and cocked her head at the sound of approaching footsteps.

The cop who had taken her into custody stopped at the barred door and stared at her impassively, two guards framing him. She looked at him without reacting, her jade eyes unreadable. He frowned and moved closer.

“That was quite a performance. Of course, it would be more impressive if my teenage sons couldn’t have done it better without breaking a sweat,” he said.

Jet waited silently, wondering why the man was trying to bait her. He studied her as though she were a curiosity on a laboratory slide and spoke again. “You’re to be moved to the airport. Stand and put your hands through the slot in the door so we can cuff you.”

Jet slowly stood and did as instructed. One of the guards ratcheted metal handcuffs over her wrists. When they were secure, she retracted her hands.

“Step away from the door,” the cop said, all business.

She complied, and the second guard glanced down the hall and nodded. The door buzzed as the automatic locking mechanism opened.

The guard who had cuffed her swung the door wide and fixed her with a cold stare. “Come on. Move.”

Jet remained where she was. “Nobody’s told me what I’m being charged with, what I’m accused of. And I’ve asked to see my lawyer a half dozen times, with no response. Now you’re transporting me to the airport? What’s going on here?”

“You’re being extradited,” the cop snapped. “Now do as you’re told, or we’ll drag you out of here kicking and screaming.”

“Extradited? To where? And for what? By what authority?”

The cop’s beady eyes narrowed and his thin lips pulled downward. “By the authority I’m empowered with. As to the charge – for murder.”

“Murder! That’s insane. Where are you sending me?”

“Russia. Which should be quite unpleasant for you, I’d imagine.”

Her voice quieted to a whisper. “Russia?” She hesitated. “Why are you doing this?”

“Enough.” The cop turned to the guard on his right. “Get her out of my sight,” he snapped, and stepped back so the guards could remove her from the cell.

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