Page 87 of Cross Down
The bird,I decide.Let’s get on the jet and worry about everything else later.Aloud I say, “Bless you, Liz, you kept your word.”
I trot across the cracked runway to a set of metal stairs going up to the smooth fuselage, right behind the cockpit. A senior airman wearing camos and holding an M4 says, “You Sampson?”
“I am,” I say, almost out of breath.
“Come on in,” he says, waving a gloved hand. “We need to get moving.”
I duck into the aircraft and look down the two rows of red webbing seating and the flat bulkhead where gear can be secured.
It’s empty.
“Where’s Deacon?”
“Who?” the senior airman asks.
“Elizabeth Deacon,” I say. “She was with me earlier. She should be here.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, order we got was to pick up one passenger, and one passenger only. John Sampson. And that’s you, right?”
“Shit,” I say, and I add, “Give me a minute. I need to check something out.”
The air force NCO glances at his watch. “You got your sixty seconds, pal, but not a second more.”
I duck my head, go back to the airstrip, run over to the big tent, and tug open the flap. It looks like the interior of the tent is stuck in time, because I see the same number of guys doing the same things they were doing before: drinking coffee, cleaning weapons, checking the screens on their terminals.
I say to the near guy, “Bobby, where the hell is she?”
He says, “Deacon? She’s been gone for about two hours.”
I don’t know what to say. She left without me. “She leave a message?”
He laughs. “Liz? Would she ever leave a message, leave behind evidence of anything?”
I hear the engines of the SST transport start to whine. Bobby nods in the direction of the tent flaps. “You better get going, Sampson. Your flight back to the promised land is about to leave.”
I don’t argue; I push through the flaps, run back to the aircraft. Dust and gravel are being kicked up, and I go up the collapsible steps and clamber inside. The senior airman says, “Ten seconds to spare. Good timing!”
He pulls the steps in, swings the cabin door closed, and fastens it tight, and I sit back on the red webbing, feeling exhausted, hungry, and thirsty, but most of all…
Feeling betrayed.
I remember Ned Mahoney saying,Don’t trust anyone.
I made a mistake.
I trusted Elizabeth Deacon, a CIA consultant.
The NCO yells over at me, and I fasten my seat belt. The aircraft speeds down the runway and climbs into the Tajikistan air.
I won’t make that mistake again.
Part Five
Chapter
99
Supervising special agentNed Mahoney is in his office, yawning, trying to concentrate on the various memos and reports scattered across his desk. Right now he’s focusing on three recent reports.
