Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
The present. Washington Dulles International Airport some time before noon. The van, parked in the Daily Lot east of the Main Terminal.
"And you're sure you got that right?" Winston still couldn't believe it. "Sounds like some Hollywood BS to me."
"Mission: Impossible II, dude." Guerrero's voice via earpiece.
Winston stared at the security feed from the airport and shook his head: "What the hell has she been thinking?"
… … …
The young marine arrived at Dulles International Airport in a rather decrepit state. He felt hung over like hell and couldn't remember a thing about last night. Boy, what in the world had those frog eaters spiked his drink with? Come to think of it in the cold light of the day he was quite sure that blond woman he had been flirting with had slipped him something. She had been way out of his league… Oddly enough, nothing was missing, neither his wallet nor his watch or his brand new mobile. And there was this strange itching spot on the inside of his arm...
He was on edge.
Six months of service in Afghanistan had taught him to trust his gut feeling.
And his gut feeling said something was off.
Slowly he made his way through airport security.
… … …
"She does know that letting her agents lump together in groups like that is highly conspicuous, doesn't she?" Winston couldn't believe what he was seeing on the monitors in the van.
"Two back entrances aren't covered", Guerrero pointed out.
"The main exit area is full of people; easy to slip through. Why in the world does she want to do it here? Why not wait till he's home?" Chance's voice via earpiece. He was just as puzzled as the other two. Such a sloppily planned operation. Totally not Emma's style.
… … …
Almost at the door, an attractive brunet stepped into the young marine's way.
"Welcome home, Sergeant Malhoney."
He smile was winning and extraordinarily friendly.
Okay, the second beautiful woman within 24 hours flirting with him.
Something was definitely off.
He almost wished he was back on the battlefield. There he would at least have his gun at hand.
"Excuse me, I don't think…"
The woman's smile grew even wider. "We've never met, no. Emma Barnes, FBI. There's been a tiny little misunderstanding regarding your transfer papers. If you'd come with me we'll clear that up in no time."
Almost the same second she said it, it dawned on Emma that letting him know that she was FBI was probably not reassuring. Why should the FBI care about a minor transfer papers issue?
She could have kicked herself.
… … …
"She smiles too much, her movements are tense…" Chance didn't let Emma out of his sight.
"The boy's picking up on it, dude", Guerrero warned.
Even Winston in the van could see it. "See how he slightly tilts his head? He's looking for an escape route."
"And the suits are advancing on them, as inconspicuous as a herd of rhinos…" Chance made a hand signal and Guerrero disappeared into the crowd of newly arrived passengers.
"She just won for worst planned operation ever", Guerrero grumbled.
… … …
Sergeant Malhoney couldn't quite believe what was going on. He had just survived six months of Afghanistan, and this was his welcome home?
"What's going on here?"
Emma's smile became even more artificial.
"Nothing, just some routine paperwork, no need to worry…"
Even to Emma's ears this sounded highly unbelievable.
The sergeant made a decision. With one swift movement he grabbed her, twisted her around, wrested the weapon from her hidden holster and had her at gun point. Panic broke out, travelers started running to and fro, the advancing groups of FBI men stopped dead in their tracks.
Through clenched teeth, he hissed at Barnes: "I woke up this morning hung over as hell with an itch on my arm. I didn't drink that much and come to think of it, that itch looks damn well like an injection site. And now this welcoming committee! What THE HELL is going on here?"
One of the FBI agents made a sudden move. The marine pushed Barnes towards the groups of FBI people and fled outside.
… … …
Directly in front of the airport, where usually only taxis waited, the young man spotted a private car, apparently waiting to pick someone up. He yanked the door open and pointed the gun at the driver: "Start the car, now!"
Heart racing like crazy, he slumped into the passenger's seat.
"I'm sorry for this, I really am."
Guerrero, at the steering wheel, slowly turned and looked at him with a rather sad expression.
"No dude, I'm sorry."
Chance jumped the marine from the backseat and pulled a hood over his head while Guerrero grabbed the gun and handcuffed him.
… … …
Totally off the rail, Emma Barnes and the rest of her team rushed outside the airport. No sergeant in sight.
"Spread out!"
But it was useless. The marine was gone. When it became clear that she had failed big time, Emma sent her people back to HQ and headed to her SUV in a state of desperation. She sagged into her car seat, grabbed her phone and punched in a number.
"Sir, I'm afraid I have to tell you…"
Stopping dead in mid-sentence, she stared at the steering wheel. Someone had attached a note to it.
TRUNK
She switched off the phone, got out of her car, walked around it and opened the tailgate. There was the missing marine, lying in the trunk, bound at hands and feet.