Mike stood with his hat pulled low to his eyes, sipping coffee. He was leaning in an alcove that housed a bank of pay phones. The airport had come to life in the last hour and the lines at the Pan Am ticketing counter were bustling. The crowd was a mixed blessing, it was easier to stay concealed but it was also easier for their quarry to slip by in the throng.
Talbot was true to his word when he said the DoJ was all in on this operation. When he and Norm got to the airport, they we both provided with Secret Service style communications equipment. It made coordinating the squad of agents and officers a little less cumbersome. At 7 o'clock, all the officers and Marshals spread throughout the target areas checked in with negative results. Norm, who was on the opposite end of the ticketing area, caught Mike's eye and shook his head. Mike yawned. One long day had quickly stretched into two, with no end in sight.
Throwing his empty cup into the trash, Mike turned and dropped several coins into a pay phone. While he had access to a security office to check in, he chose to stay out in the terminal and on the hunt. After dialing, he turned his back to the phone so that he could watch and talk at the same time. The phone rang twice.
"Keller."
"It's Mike, how's it going?"
"We got nothing. I just talked to Talbot, no joy at the port, either."
"Damn." Mike tried, but failed, to stifle another yawn.
"Are you ok? Sounds like you're tired. Should you really be out there?"
"I'm good. How about you?"
"Fine, but I'm losing my mind sitting here waiting for the phone ring."
"You know it was right decision, you said so yourself."
"Yeah I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it. Will you do me a favor?"
"If I can."
"If you feel like you are too exhausted to be out there, will you please let some one else take over? There are too many things that can go wrong in a crowd like that."
"I'll think about, ok. For now, I need to get off the phone. If nothing happens, I'll be in touch again in an hour."
"Make sure you do. Be careful."
00000
The minutes dragged on. By nine o'clock, Mike and Norm had been relieved for a much-needed break. They walked into the first-class lounge, which had been commandeered by the DoJ. It was just another example of the pressure being brought to bear by the Federal government.
"Wow!" Norm exclaimed as he entered the opulent space. "Is this how the other half lives?"
"I guess so," Mike answered. "I never even knew this existed at the airport."
Food and coffee had been set up in the main room of the lounge. After breakfast they both settled in comfortable lounge chairs for some much need rest.
It seemed like no time had elapsed when Mike awoke with a start. By the position of the shadows in the window-walled room, he knew he had slept much longer than he had intended. A young Marshal was standing over him.
"Sir, it's 12:30. We're rotating the troops again."
"Thanks."
The Marshal walked away and Mike reached over and shook Norm awake. "What?"
"Time to go back to work."
After freshening up and more coffee, Mike and Norm returned to their posts in the ticketing area. The crowd in the airport had increased dramatically since 9 am. Mike relieved a US Marshal wearing jeans, a sweat shirt and a ball cap.
"Anything?"
"Nada. You need the pictures?"
"Only Meyer. I've had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the other three."
"Right-O." He handed Mike the 3x5 head shot. "Hey, you're SFPD. Did they really bury some of your guys alive?"
Mike rolled his eyes. "You could say that. One of your guys, too." He was sure this incident would be recorded in the collective oral tradition of both agencies. He wasn't sure he cared for the infamy.
"That's Wild. Well, I'm off." He looked at his watch. "Check-in is in 15. Just a tip, the guy on the other end of the phone doesn't sound too quick on the uptake."
Mike frowned. He was tempted to set the Marshal straight about the voice on the phone, but let it go.
00000
"Where the hell is he?" Georg swore as he slammed the door of his father's room. Peter had paid for late check out, but It was time for him and his father to head to the airport.
"Calm yourself." Meyer said in a low voice. "He left a note for you."
Georg snatched the envelope from his father's hand. "When did he leave?"
"After we checked in. He had to drop off the paintings and dispose of the car."
"I don't like it." Brian Jones was pacing, "I don't like it at all. What if he got picked up."
"That is not possible." Meyer stated flatly. "You have erased all traces of our hands in this affair. How would anyone know?"
Georg tore open the envelope and read the brief note written on hotel stationary. He swore.
"What's wrong?"
"He's not coming."
"What do you mean?"
"Just what I said, he's staying here."
"I am not good with that," Jones answered. "We all agreed, no loose ends."
"What do you propose to do about it? Even though he is soft, he is still my son."
"A son who could blow this whole thing up!"
"Do we really have to do anything? He has new credentials, he really could just disappear, couldn't he?" Georg asked.
"I don't trust him. Unlike us, I think he may have a conscience. Remind me again, when is the second flight?"
"9 pm."
"That gives me some time, if I can track him down, maybe I can reason with him, get him to come with me."
"And if you can't?"
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. Where would he go?"
"No, I am not comfortable with this." Meyer answered.
"Listen old man, sometimes sacrifices have to be made at the altar of secrecy. Or don't you remember that? Guess what, this is one of those times. Georg, get out of here. You take Peter's ticket on the early flight with your father. Make sure you pay for mine, too, then leave the rest to me. The less you two know, the better. I'll follow at 9."
Georg grabbed his suitcase and bid his father to do the same.
"Now, where do you think he went?"
"Battery Spencer, the cliffs." Georg answered. "He goes there when he has to make decisions. If he's not there, he's probably left the City. I'll be too late to find him."
00000
The sun was high in the sky when Peter awoke. At some time during the night, he'd moved back to the concrete bunkers on the other side of the fence, although he didn't remember doing it. Standing up, he stretched out his stiffness and looked at his watch. His father and brother should be on their way to the airport by now. He walked back out towards the cliff.
It was a perfect day. The sun has burned through last night's drizzle and fog and the burnished bronze-spires of the Golden Gate Bridge contrasted brilliantly with the deep azure sky. He was glad he had seen it one last time.
00000
Mike walked across the terminal. His back and knees ached from standing on concrete for too many hours. He recalled the dog-tired days when he was on foot patrol, but that was a lot of years ago, a job for much younger men. As he turned to walk back to his perch by the pay phones, he caught sight of one of the Garrod brother's and an older man. They were in line for the first-class ticket counter. Steve had been right. The resemblance of the two brothers was almost twin-like.
He glanced at the picture of Claus Meyer and back to the older man. The once dark hair had gone grey and but the arrogant air and steely gaze remained. He lifted his arm to his mouth to transmit surreptitiously
"Two suspects spotted in the Pan Am ticketing area. All units, proceed with caution. REPEAT: Pan Am ticketing counter."
He remained in place until he heard confirmation from all units. Norm walked up behind him. "How we gonna play this, boss?"
"Nice and easy. I don't think we've been made yet. I wanna wait till every one is in place. We don't have eyes on the other two and there are way too many people here. Makes me nervous."
"Sounds good." Norm walked forward and casually queued at the end of the first-class line.
Georg and Clause were now at the counter. There seemed to be some kind of question on the ticketing agent's part. Frown on her face, telephone to her ear, she appeared to be settling some kind of issue. Mike was glad. It gave him more time. He looked around and saw Marshals and Officers silently drifting into the ticketing lobby.
Just then Georg glanced Mike's way. His startled look was followed quickly by anger and resolve. Then all hell broke loose.
00000
Steve was staring blankly at the ceiling when the phone rang. "Keller"
It was the dispatcher. "I have a patch from patrol for Lt. Stone."
"He's on an operation at the Airport, this is his partner, go ahead and put it through."
The phone clicked and a new voice came on.
"Lieutenant Stone?"
"No, but go ahead."
"I'm calling about an APB he was flagged on."
Steve sat up, now fully alert. "Yeah, go ahead."
"White Mercedes, Ocean Ida Victor, 583?"
"That's it. Where'd you spot it?"
"We found it parked at Battery Spencer when we swept the parking lot, no sign of the occupant. It's dry underneath, so it was parked before the drizzle last night."
"You think it was dumped?"
"Could be, but between the bunkers and the cliffs, the occupant could be anywhere. We could also have a jumper. All common scenarios out here. You want it towed in?"
"No, keep eyes on it. I'll send somebody out to check it."
"Roger that."
Steve hung up at looked around the office. It was disserted save for Sargent Sekulovich, who was eating a sandwich at his desk.
"Where is everybody?"
"Mike and Norm are at the Airport. Bill and Dan are at the Cruise Terminal." He looked up at the clock. It was after one. I guess everybody else is either on a call or at lunch. Why?"
Steve walked over to his desk, picked up his keys and unlocked the bottom drawer. His grabbed his back up weapon and holster.
"What the hell are you doing? Rudy benched you, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but there is nobody else here."
"What am I, chopped liver?"
"You know what I mean, nobody that's not in uniform. I gotta check out a car patrol found at the Battery. Do me a favor. Can you go into Mike's office and cover the phones. 2 pm check should be coming in from both Mike and Talbot. I should be back in about an hour or so.
Sekulovich grabbed his lunch and walked toward Mike's office. "Sure, but make it fast. And do me a favor, stay out of harm's way. I don't want to have to explain to Mike and the Captain how I let you leave and get into trouble."
"I'll do my best, just like always." Steve hooked the holster on his belt and exited the office.
Sekulovich shook his head and sat down at Mike's desk, reasonably sure he had just made a big mistake.