Christmas Under Fire. Michelle Karl
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The woman groaned as she came to, her eyes hazy and unfocused. He sat her down on one of the plastic chairs by the door, keeping watch on both her and their dark surroundings. Why on earth had she been inside the shuttered airport all alone? He’d called ahead and told the attendant at the front desk that he would be several minutes behind schedule due to traffic on the highway from Fort Mason, and the attendant had agreed to stick around until he arrived. Had someone duped the attendant into leaving? He had to assume that the woman in front of him was Ms. Roslin, the dignitary from Amar whom he’d been assigned to escort and assist for the duration of her visit. What had happened here?
“Ms. Roslin?” He pulled the swath of fabric, which had been knocked askew, from her face, and her eyes suddenly opened wide. She inhaled sharply and leaped up from the chair, backing away with a fierce growl. He held his hands up in a show of nonaggression. “Aaron Thrace, RCMP. I’m not going to harm you, but someone just tried to. Are you injured?”
The snarl slipped away as her features relaxed. “Oh. Oh! I don’t...no, I don’t think so. I was accidentally left behind in the airport and then someone came out of nowhere—”
Her gentle, lilting accent endeared her to him immediately, but intellectually he knew that was simply a cognitive reaction to hearing certain types of accents. Still, it was heartbreaking to hear a lovely voice like hers recounting such an agonizing ordeal. “If you’re uninjured, will you be all right waiting here while I search the perimeter?” She nodded but didn’t look confident about it. “Are you sure? I won’t be a minute. I’m going to check outside of these doors and then confirm it’s safe to bring you to the car. Did you notice if your attacker had a weapon?”
She shook her head this time, with greater resolution. “I didn’t see one, but it was dark. The person grabbed me with both hands. It felt like they were trying to get me under control—like they were going to pick me up and take me somewhere? I’m not sure, sorry. They did shove something over my head first...oh, maybe it was that scarf on the floor?”
Welcome to Canada, he thought bitterly. “All right. Sit tight and don’t move. Shout if you need me and I’ll be back in a snap.” He waited until she’d sat down again, then crossed the darkened concourse’s perimeter. Whoever had attacked her might have simply taken off when their abduction attempt had been thwarted, but the Rocky North Regional Airport wasn’t exactly located in a densely populated area. If anyone had driven off in a vehicle or run across the property to escape, Aaron was likely to spot the retreat. He hadn’t noticed any other cars in the parking lot, though, which meant that her attacker was probably still lurking around a corner, waiting for him and Ms. Roslin to leave first.
Aaron rested his hand on his Taser but didn’t draw it. Canadian regulations required him to keep his weapons holstered the majority of the time, until he had a perfectly good reason to draw one. And without a blatant threat in front of him, he simply had to pay close attention to his surroundings and be quick on the draw if necessary.
He leaned against the edge of the window and squinted into the darkness. If he’d known the scene would be so dark, he’d have brought night vision goggles. He thought he might have a pair in the back of his patrol car, but that was on the other side of the terminal concourse. He was unwilling to take his charge outside until he was certain she’d be safe—because even if the culprit had used both hands to grab at Ms. Roslin, it didn’t guarantee that the person wasn’t armed.
When he didn’t spot any movement outside the windows, he glanced back at the woman. Her slight form was curled into the chair, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped around her shins. She’d bowed her head, and he wondered if she might be praying. His heart tightened at her vulnerability, and he felt a sudden, unwanted tug at his core. To have come so far from home during what should be a joyful time of year, only to be attacked the moment she landed at her destination...well, that was a terrible way to start off a Christmas holiday.
His briefing on Ms. Roslin’s visit had also mentioned that she was a recent widow, which he suspected might explain why she’d closed herself off so quickly. She was likely feeling frightened and alone. While he could never claim to understand what she’d gone through, the sense of loneliness resonated with him. His youngest brother, Sam, had gotten married earlier in the year, and his other brother Leo’s wedding was scheduled for just a few weeks from now as a Christmas-themed affair. Aaron didn’t even have a date to accompany him to the wedding.
Not that it bothered him. Much. He had a job to do, and that responsibility came first.
He checked the washrooms, turning on as many lights as possible as he moved from space to space. Both of the two small lounges designated as flight gates had their doors locked from the inside, so the attacker couldn’t get back into the airport unless he happened to have a key to the main entrance.
Aaron jogged back to the front doors and gently pushed the right door open. His patrol car sat about ten meters away—not too far, but hopefully at enough of a distance that he’d see anyone running at them with enough time to react. With no movement on either side of the building, and dim outdoor lights illuminating the front walkway under the entrance overhang, he made a decision.
“Ms. Roslin, I’d like to get you situated inside my patrol car. Are you ready to move?”
“Yes, please.” She glanced around as though looking for something. “And I realize this might seem like a silly concern, all things considered, but what about my luggage? I don’t mind if someone can bring it along later, but I might need to stop at a store for some basics on the way if that’s all right. And if you think it’s safe to do so.”
“Where is it? Does it contain anything critical?”
She pointed to a dark alcove on the other side of the doorway. “It’s standard size, rolling wheels. I have my passport and papers in my purse, but the suitcase has a bottle of melatonin tablets to help me sleep.”
Not too critical, then. He suspected she’d be able to find melatonin at the pharmacy, so that wasn’t a problem. It’d be an extra layer of complication and a potential risk to bring her suitcase along. However, the airport wouldn’t open again until ten o’clock the next morning, and the backup he’d be calling to check out the crime scene would be coming from Fort St. Jacob, a slightly larger town located a few hours south of Fort Mason. Fort St. Jacob had more RCMP officers in their detachment, and unlike at Fort Mason, half of them hadn’t temporarily left the area for the holidays—but it’d still be a significant burden on their already limited time for one of the Fort St. Jacob officers to bring the suitcase up to Fort Mason.
He made a decision, found her suitcase and rolled it over. It wasn’t light, but he’d be able to lift it quickly into the patrol car’s trunk. “I’m going to get you into the car first. If I deem it safe after the fact, I’ll load the suitcase. Is that acceptable?”
“Of course.” Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. In retrospect, he’d been a little harsh with his tone, which was unnecessary. She stood and unzipped the collar of her puffy winter jacket, readjusting a chunky knit scarf and a necklace that had somehow become tangled together in the scuffle, then zipped all her layers back into place.
“Did you knit your scarf yourself?” He tried to put her at ease, because he needed her to listen. When she nodded, eyes wide at the strangeness of the question in the moment, he knew she was paying attention. “It’s really nice. Okay, we’re about to head outside. Wait for my signal. Stay close. If anything happens, keep