Page 85 of Airborne
“I have a flight to New York tomorrow morning.”
Andy startled. “Why?”
“To ID the man who punched me. His name’s Simon Peale, and I want to ask him a few questions.”
“Not real smart for a man in your physical condition. The confirmation of the flight is in your email.”
“Right.”
“I’d better come along as your bodyguard. You can’t walk a straight line.”
“I need you on the ground here.” Chad shook his head. “I sound like the makings of a movie script.”
Andy looked at Chad as though he swirled in a test tube. “What else have you uncovered ’cause you aren’t the type to watch life happen?”
“I’ve outlined a plan.” Chad pointed to his notebook. “We’ve got to be careful. We’re not dealing with broken equipment or destroyed specimens. As much as I’m a fan of the FBI, they have eyes on us and so do the bad guys.”
“No worries, Doc C. I’m a medical geek on research steroids. I’ve read every piece of information out there on the investigation and H9N15.”
“The information written between the lines has my attention. Makes sense the FBI has surveillance teams assigned to Braden Taversty’s parents and Decker Anslow’s girlfriend.”
“I’m a single guy. Want me to get close to her?”
Chad laughed. Andy’s thick-rimmed glasses and his aversion to exercise didn’t make him a candidate for the most-eligible bachelor in Houston. “I located the girlfriend, except contacting her raises the FBI’s radar on us. Let’s keep their role at the far end of the spectrum. If she’s aware of the virus’s origin, she wouldn’t tell for fear of her life. Leave her interview to the professionals. I’m focused on something else.”
“You’re looking for the ones in Spain who hacked you?”
“Great thought, but the FBI techs are on that, too. I’d like foryou to go through all my computer files.” He pointed to a flash drive on the table between them. “Look for anyone we might have upset.”
Andy pushed his glasses up his nose. “Lab reports? Billing? Scheduling?”
“All of it. Somewhere is the reason I’ve been singled out, and I intend to find the answers.”
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAD WORE A BLACK HARLEY T-SHIRTthat showcased the snake tattoo winding around his left bicep, the upshot of a drunken decision in his college days. He plopped on a worn ball cap, worn jeans he’d torn for the occasion, and the same tennis shoes from his last trip. He added sunglasses to cover his black eye and sat in the economy section. The sledgehammer to his head resisted every move. Agent McNally planned to meet him at the airport, and Chad had sent him a selfie in his new getup. A safe trip in and out. No reason for Chad to keep looking over his shoulder.
He’d asked to see the security video from the hospital with the time elements of thirty minutes before and after the assault, but he hadn’t received an answer. He routed the second request through his attorney, who wasn’t happy Chad’s repeated actions occurred without legal representation.
Avoiding Heather ensured her safety and the cover of their possible reconciliation. Jordan told him the National Guard would fly her back to Adam’s Island sometime today. Chad yanked hisold phone from his jean pocket and pulled up a download of the Bible, easier to read than a clunky book. So out of his comfort zone, but if he were to have a conversation with Heather about God, then he had to read the handbook. Earlier, he’d googled where to begin reading for the first time, and most sites pointed to the book of John. Took him a few minutes to find it since the Bible had John and a 1, 2, and 3John. Chad’s parents had the faith thing in place before they died. While in high school, they joined a church. He had zero interest. To please Heather, he’d gone a few times. Back then he’d do anything to spend time with her, and the conversation stimulated his intellectual side. Soon, he returned to his former beliefs—science answered the questions rooted in the past, present, and future.
He navigated to John, the first chapter, verse one. He’d do his best to keep an open mind... Chad read until the plane touched down on the runway. Interesting story.
JFK airport flourished with activity. His senses were on alert. He’d made the flight reservations with his original phone to trap whoever had made the threat. At the time, his plan sounded smart. But now as he walked through the busy airport... fear rippled up his spine. He expected media or worse to be waiting for him outside where Agent McNally would pick him up in a black FordSUV.
The moment Chad exited the airport, a small group of reporters watched the door. Hunger tracked across their faces to be the first to snap a pic or shove a mic into his bruised face... like prized prey. He stayed close to an older couple and hoped his disguise threw them long enough for McNally to appear.
The black SUV hugged the curb, but Chad had been in such pain when he rode in a similar FBI vehicle on his previous trip that he hadn’t checked the license plates. A man stepped from the passenger side and opened the rear door. While the gesture looked promising, it could be a trap.
The driver’s side opened and McNally waved. Chad hurried toward the SUV.
“That’s Lawrence,” a woman called.
“The FBI’s picking him up,” a man said.
He heard the cameras click.
Another flashed.
