Part 7 of 16 is here! Changes are afoot for our heroes as they discover more secrets! Stay tuned and as always reviews are candy!
-GPP
FBI Special Agent Mike Faber wasn't afraid of hard work, so long as it came with a guaranteed payoff and the occasional hot intern. Finding James Shannon with only a box full of letters and twenty five year old crates of typed FBI case files was one of the hardest jobs he had ever taken on; and ten times harder than any other for which he'd volunteered. However, the payoff would be enormous.
These were the thoughts running through his head as he tossed another stack of loosely bound legal paper into the 'useless' bin and leaned back to look at the large black and white clock on the conference room wall. Three-thirty AM. He ran a hand through his already tangled hair and rose to refill his coffee cup.
The coffee had baked dry in the bottom of the pot leaving a brown-black film but nothing drinkable. Faber looked around for an intern to blame, but the only other person in the room was Eleanor Prince. Grumbling to himself, Faber took the pot across the hall to the bathroom, rinsed and filled it, and then returned to the conference room to set a new pot to brewing. Tired and frustrated as he was, he didn't return to work while the coffee maker did its work he stood, back against the wall and watched Eleanor Prince sort through a mountain of paper with all the efficiency of a super computer.
He wondered briefly, what she was like in the sack before he reminded himself that he was in a relationship and that fucking Eleanor Prince was not the cure for the sexual exhaustion caused by Jinx's eagerness. An excited chirp from his computer broke Faber from this disturbing line of thought. He took time to pour the small amount of brewed coffee into his mug and doctor it with three packets of sweetener before walking over to check the alert.
The chirp had come from the computer that was running their fifth search for recent offenders matching James' physical description. It came from Del Rio, Texas. A blond man in his sixties, roughly matching James' weight and height had been arrested for driving in a vehicle presumed stolen. Faber pressed print without bothering to read the rest. It could be a dead end, but this was the first plausible lead they'd found in weeks.
"Find something?" Eleanor asked, not looking up from the information in front of her.
"A man matching James' description was arrested in Texas three days ago."
Faber was suddenly wide-awake. He moved to the large map hung on the back wall of the room. On it, they'd marked all known or suspected locations James Shannon had stayed, lived or worked in the last 30 years. It was depressing empty.
Smiling to himself, Faber picked up a red marker and circled the dot labeled Del Rio.
Eleanor Prince was an exceptionally intelligent woman. Early in her FBI career, she had been a rigid rule follower. However, it hadn't taken long to figure out the advantages of bending certain rules and breaking others; but this was beyond anything she had ever attempted before.
This one could get her fired.
Eleanor Prince was a cautious woman; which was why she kept every file encrypted and carried a disposable blackberry with a California number. She used this for emergencies only.
Above all, Eleanor Prince was a loyal person. Which is why in the two minutes it took Agent Faber to fill the coffee pot she made an untraceable copy of the alert before erasing it and restarting the search from scratch. It wouldn't buy much time, but if she knew Stan McQueen, he wouldn't need much time.
It was barely five AM when Marshall's cell phone rang waking him from a deep sleep. He reached for it and answered on the second ring, hoping he could avoid waking Mary so few hours after they finally found sleep the night before.
"Marshall," he said sharply, slipping out of bed and pulling on a pair of pants with one hand.
"Marshall, it's Stan," the voice on the other line seemed tired.
"What happened?" Marshall was suddenly wide-awake.
"They found James," he said in a low voice.
"Damn it!" Marshall swore loudly and then checked over his shoulder to make sure Mary was still sleeping. "Where?"
"I've made arrangements for you and Mary to fly to his location, be at the airport in 30 minutes," with that, Stan disconnected the call.
"Thanks, Stan," Marshall said to the dial tone. He tossed the phone on the bed and pulled a t-shirt on over his bare chest.
Mary stirred in her sleep. She thought she'd heard Marshall talking to someone but maybe she'd been dreaming.
"Mary?" Marshall leaned over her and touched her shoulder gently, "Mare, you gotta get up."
Mary pushed her head under her pillow and grumbled, "Too tired, you wore me out."
"We found him."
Mary's head shot up and almost collided with Marshall's.
"Come on, we are flying out in thirty minutes. I'll pack your stuff."
"Where?" she rubbed her eyes and was already getting clothes on.
"Stan didn't say," Marshall said, throwing their discarded clothes into his bag; they could sort the mess out back in Albuquerque, right now time was of the essence.
"Typical."
Twenty-two minutes later, they arrived at Miami Airport.
"I suppose flashing our badges would speed up this process?" Mary looked up at Marshall; anxiety evident in her eyes.
He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and directed her towards the Alaska Air counter. He released her when they got to the line of passengers waiting to check in so he could look suitably intimidating when he flipped open his badge and forced his way to the front of the line.
"I love it when you act tough," she purred into his ear as he released her.
"U.S. Marshals," he said to the woman at the counter.
The woman looked bored; as if federal officials came through all the time and used their badges to expedite the check-in process. "Can I help you?"
"Official business," Marshall said in his most commanding voice. "Two tickets under Marshall Miller."
"Let me see," she typed agonizingly slow and Marshall recognized the telltale signs of annoyance coming from his partner.
Mary slammed her badge onto the counter.
"Listen, I've had it up to here," she raised her hand to Marshall's brow line for emphasis, "with your irritatingly bad attitude. We're Federal Marshals on Federal Marshal Business. So take your goddamn fingers and use them for something other than pretending to work or we'll arrest you for obstruction."
Marshall rocked back on his heels, a contented smile on his face as the woman suddenly increased the speed of her fingers on the keyboard. Mary always did know how to scare people into obedience. In seconds, the woman was printing their boarding passes and directing them to gate three for a flight set to leave in ten minutes.
"That felt good to get out of my system," she looped her arm through his, "I suppose your 'be the river' thing really does work."
"More like be the tsunami," he said with a laugh.
"What can I say, I'm hardcore."
According to the flight board the plan would take them to Austin, with a thirty minute layover in Savannah. He checked his email to see if Stan had forwarded him any more than that, but so far no word from the chief on their final destination.
What is in store for the dynamic duo as they head into Del Rio! Stay tuned!