her and report her activities, no one had really briefed him on the real reason why DeRossi was in Colorado at the same time as Director Casey. Having her in the airport at the time of his arrival had to be more than coincidence, but so far as he’d been able to observe she hadn’t made contact.
He’d never met a field agent who liked oversight divisions—whether it was the Internal Affairs divisions of police departments or the covert equivalent of the Initiative committee.
An airport security cart whizzed by and Jason decided it was time to get creative. If he could get into the security office, maybe he’d get lucky and spot her on one of the many video feeds they monitored.
He considered fabricating an elaborate story and settled on a lower-risk version of the truth. Following the cart to the nearest security team office, he walked in, credentials ready.
“Can I help you?”
Jason flipped open the wallet with a badge and ID card as he surveyed the entire space. The security office setup was familiar. One uniformed person at the desk, a couple of others in offices that overlooked the small reception area. He glanced at the one closed door and assumed that was where all the real information was hidden.
“Good afternoon.” He smiled, throwing in a little charm since the uniform was female. “I’m Agent Grant. I was tailing a suspect and she managed to ditch me at baggage claim,” he said with just the right blend of irritation and embarrassment. It was a skill he’d picked up during his time in law enforcement.
“I need a look at your cameras, see if I can spot her. Consider it a professional courtesy,” he added. “I really don’t want to have to hear about this mistake for the rest of my life, if I can avoid it.”
She smiled just a little and made a call to her immediate superior. Feeling the eyes on him, he let his shoulders slump as he tucked his badge away, playing the part of the guy who was having a bad day.
It worked. She hung up the phone and walked him over to the closed door.
Two men in airport security uniforms watched the cycling views of the area from the escalators to the exit doors on the wide bank of monitors. Reading the labels under each, he soon had a feel for each area covered by the closed-circuit cameras.
Public areas, employee-only access and the walkways and streets just outside the terminal. Where was she? She wasn’t loitering in baggage claim. Not in the rental car line either.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Flight attendant. Female. Blonde. In a red blazer.” And with less than a minute a good operative could have changed any one of those distinguishing features. He’d given her three minutes plus the time it had taken him to get in here.
DeRossi was an oversight agent. Hadn’t pushed anything more dangerous than paper in a couple of years. He wanted to bang his head against the wall for underestimating her. No one working any aspect of covert ops got hired or moved up the food chain by accident.
Still. She’d shown no sign of spotting him tailing her and it wasn’t entirely unreasonable to believe her field skills would be rusty.
“Hot?” one of the guards asked.
“Aren’t they all?” Grant mused.
“Sure,” the guard admitted with a smirk. “But a few stand out. Let me cue this for you.”
Jason waited the few seconds, let the guard zoom in. “Yeah, that’s her,” he said, stopping just shy of a fist pump. DeRossi strolled down an employee access hall with a businessman at her side. There was a brief conversation, then they moved again, out of the camera’s view. “Where did she go?”
“Got her,” the other guard said. “She went into a cab with the dude.”
Jason nearly choked when he recognized the man in the picture. Director Casey was no one’s “dude.” It wasn’t his job to know what DeRossi wanted with the head of his division, but of all the possibilities that popped into his head, none of them were good. The director was here for a family event and with no ties to the bride or groom, DeRossi wasn’t on the guest list.
Hell. Had he just allowed the director to be kidnapped?
Feeling more than a little grim, Jason watched the cab pull away from the curb. Without being asked, the pair of guards brought up visuals from the other cameras stationed around the airport until the cab went completely out of their range.
“The cab is in the lane for the long-term parking lots.”
That didn’t make sense to him. The car DeRossi drove to the airport was parked in the short-term garage. He’d parked on the other end of the same level.
“Don’t airline employees have their own lot?”
“Sure,” the first guard said. “If they’re based here, most of the crews take a shuttle in from home. But if she’s with him...” The guard let that thought trail off, but they all knew what he was implying. A sexual rendezvous wasn’t something Jason wanted to think about either.
“Can you cue up a view of those lots?”
The second guard shook his head. “Closed circuit on a different system through another security contract. Sorry.”
“No problem.” He had a general direction at any rate and the storm would slow her down. He hoped. A situation like this was all about the legwork and though she had a head start, he wasn’t out of the game.
His phone rang and the screen showed Deputy Director Holt’s somber face. Jason answered, braced to admit his momentary setback.
“I just received a new alert of a potential problem child in your area. I’m sending you the picture.”
Problem child in this context could mean anything from an informant to an assassin. “Am I being reassigned?” He wanted to ask more questions, but wouldn’t risk it in front of the guards.
“No. Watch for the paths to cross.”
“If they do?”
“Document, but do not intervene.”
Whoa. That set off all of his internal alarms. “Yes, sir.”
“Any news for me?”
He thought of DeRossi and Casey in the cab and out of his reach. “Not at this time.”
“You lost her,” Holt said with an irritable sigh.
“Not exactly.” It wasn’t a lie. He still had a general direction. “This freak storm is slowing everything down.”
“I need to know what she’s after. ASAP.”
“Yes, sir,” Jason replied. “I’m on it.”
Ending the call, he turned the phone back and forth in his hands, waiting for the picture to come through. When it did he gave a low whistle. A woman with fiery red hair and a grin as satisfied as a cat with a mouthful of canary filled his screen. He vaguely wondered what she’d been doing when the photographer had captured the candid shot. He had the disquieting sense
