Taker (8 page)

Take Hope Away

T
he last 20
or so miles had whizzed by, and Nicole found herself zoning out to the rock music her dad had put on in the car. The chat had died down after the first five minutes, and the adrenaline had ebbed away from all the friends, leaving in its place the achy residue of tired limbs and exhausted hearts.

It didn’t help that Nicole was squished in the back of the Jeep alongside Amy and Drake. She had been grateful for the window so she could stare out and away from their affectionate cuddling and fond whispers.

The beaches and busy shops had given way to long stretches of straight coastal road that ran alongside the woods, oceans and marshes near Vero Beach. Rows of one-story vacation homes, one after the other, sped by. Some were empty for the season. Other homes were alive with families playing, swimming, and having cookouts.

Every few minutes, the ocean would glitter out to the side of them. It spoke of a simpler time, when Nicole had played in those waters and ran down those stretches of sand. Holidays and happiness. She let out an inadvertent sigh at a life she might never experience again.

Her dad caught her eye in the overhead mirror.

“OK, Mouse?”

Nicole shrugged.

“How far now?” she asked, trying to distract herself from her rising emotion by posing a banal question. Her dad noticed it, of course, but thought better of trying to press the issue.

“Not so long.”

Nicole nodded and returned to staring out the window. In her peripheral vision, she could see that her dad’s eyes rested on her a little longer. He was anxious, and he had every right to be.

A police car zoomed by, jolting Nicole back to her fragile reality. She couldn’t have known it at the time, but the hijacked airplane was safer for her than being anywhere out here. They had passed countless cameras at intersections, gas stations and shopping plazas. The government would be scanning all of them in a few hours, collecting data and analyzing the information to track her path.

This frustrated her, and she felt the anger curl her fingers into fists. She had saved a whole plane, and they were still trying to hunt her down like a dangerous criminal. The government should be bowing down and thanking her. What did she have to do to prove she meant no harm? How long before their suspicion would leak into her own sense of what she was capable of?

She was reminded of the witch hunts she’d read about in history class —wizened women of long ago who had been suspected of being witches and casting spells. The mobs would round them up and take them to the local lake, where the purported witches were then dunked in the body of water. If a woman drowned, she would prove herself innocent of the crime of witchcraft. If she floated, she would prove herself to be a witch, and then the mob would burn her at the stake. It was a lose-lose situation, a bit like the one Nicole now found herself in. If she had let the plane crash, who knew what the hijacker would have done? Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

Nicole felt a chill crawl down her spine as she recalled the dungeon girl and her ugly, embittered expression.

Take hope away.

Nicole felt the car slow, and she pulled herself up and out of her dark thoughts. They had arrived. Nicole leaned across and nudged Amy, who had fallen asleep on Drake’s shoulder. She jumped, head-butting him by accident.

“Thanks,” Drake muttered, rubbing his temple.

The Jeep had come to a stop on a nondescript stretch of road surrounded by swamp on one side and open public beaches on the other. Her dad got out.

Amy surveyed the area. “You’re leaving us
here
?”

Easing herself out of the passenger door, Nicole watched her dad turn around. She knew he was tolerant of Amy’s loud personality. Before replying, he pressed a few buttons on his watch. The display changed to 5:00.
Beep, beep.

“Yes, Amy. Though I don’t blame you for not being thrilled.” He gave Nicole a weak smile. “The thing is, as much as every fiber of my being wants to keep you all with me, it’s impossible right now. You saw how it was at the gates. I am calling in every favor I have just to keep the FBI a step behind us. So it might look boring, but this is exactly where you need to be.”

Amy was blindsided. Nicole’s dad would usually goof around with her, engaging in at least a few rounds of verbal banter. She wasn’t used to this more serious and direct tone.

“Aside from the fact that you’re leaving us smack in the middle of a long stretch of shoreline surrounded by nothing but vacation homes, what are we supposed to do? Vacation our way out? Go hunting for sea turtle nests?”

“All right, Amy. I’ll play your game. Did you see any cameras recently?”

Amy shrugged.

“I’ve left you at a security blackspot. The community around here has its own system in place, so it’ll take a lot longer for the feds to get footage here. Take it from me: This will be the best head start you can get. There are some food trucks a few blocks away. You can get something to eat there. And there’s a popular surf spot for the locals nearby also. Head there.” He began handing out bundles of $20 bills to each of them. “Remember, the more you blend in, the less likely that they’ll be able to find you. Go where there are always other teens like yourselves. And don’t attract attention.” On that last statement, he smiled and pointed at Amy.

Amy saluted back. “Yes, sir! No fun. Got it.”

“Dad, where should we spend the night?”

“None of you are old enough to get a hotel room, but there’s a store up by the trucks that sells camping gear. I phoned ahead and made sure they had at least two tents and some basic equipment.”

“Oh, great!” Amy exclaimed, clasping the sides of her head. “Oh, how I
love
camping.”

Nicole understood her dad’s intentions then — he didn’t want to know anything about their plans so that he could easily deny knowledge if questioned.

“And these are for you.” From the trunk, he produced four pay-per-use cell phones. “Don’t get excited now — it’s a basic model without GPS. Use these as little as possible. Even without GPS, it still gives away your approximate location whenever the phone is on. Give the feds as little tracking information as possible.”

“Old-school!” Drake remarked, grabbing a phone.

“Nicole, remember that two-story fast food place in Orlando on International Drive? It’s always packed with tourists and has an arcade on the second floor?”

Nicole nodded. “Sure, that place is great!”

“Good. I’ll meet you there tomorrow at 6 p.m. It should be packed with the dinner crowd. If anything feels wrong, just walk away, and we’ll try again the following day, but an hour later. Don’t write down our meeting place or rendezvous time anywhere or ever say it on the phone. Even if I tell you to meet me somewhere else, just play along.”

“Why?” Amy asked.

Ben cut in with his best impression of the receptionist Roz from
Monsters, Inc.
“I’m always watching you, Nicole. Always watching.”

Nicole’s dad took the point. “Exactly. Assume the government records everything you ever say on those phones. Assume every time you are in public, someone may be watching you.”

His watch alarm started to sound.
Beep, beep, beep, beep
. He looked at the display and saw that it read 0:00. For a brief moment, he looked like he might be getting choked up, but in the blink of an eye, he had regained his composure and finished his spiel. “Look, these guys … These guys aren’t playing. They seriously want to take Nicole, and I need you guys to stay safe.”

He put his arms around Nicole and gave her a huge bearhug along with a quick peck on the top of her head.

“Dad, I’m scared.” Nicole dropped her guard as tears started to drip down her cheeks. “I didn’t do anything wrong. But I feel like I’m guilty of everything. Like I’m a bad person.”

While embracing her, he whispered a message just for Nicole. “Honey, it’s OK. It’s gonna be all right. You’re a good person. You did nothing wrong. And you heard my phone call earlier. I’ve got some ex-military friends all around the government. So when you see me next, I’ll have help with me. I’m finding people who can keep you safe. Don’t worry, Mouse.”

Nicole closed her eyes and nodded. She trusted him, but she also didn’t want to let him go.

“Don’t leave … yet.”

“I’m sorry.” Her dad’s voice was starting to shake from the emotional goodbye. “I wish I could stay more than a few minutes, but I have to leave. When they review the tapes, they’ll wonder what happened to my car if I’m off camera too long.”

Nicole held her father closer. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to.” He unwrapped Nicole’s hands and held them in front of him. “I have to drive off and try to lead them astray for a while and give them some Jeep sightings to keep them busy. But it won’t be long. We’ll see each other at the fast food place tomorrow. It’s just one more day.” He then gave Nicole one last kiss on her head, climbed into the Jeep, shifted it into gear, and raced away from them.

Nicole knew she had to turn around and move off now. Disappear with the others. Yet she couldn’t help but watch her dad’s Jeep as it sped off. She stood there until the small cloud of dust the Jeep left behind had vanished completely. Amy moved next to Nicole and put a reassuring arm around her.

They were on their own.

Rock-Climbing Accident

“
O
ne m
ore time
for us please, Jason. My colleague is getting a little forgetful in his old age,” Velasquez added, a kind of jab at Bishop. She clicked the top of her pen, uncrossed and then crossed her legs, and sat alert, ready to take notes.

Bishop remained unmoved and unamused. He might have to question her methods later, but for now, he suspected Velasquez was playing good cop to the boy, and it was working.

“It was from a rock-climbing accident.”

“Was it Seneca Rocks in West Virginia?”

“Yeah, and it was a while ago. It never healed properly. When I went to the front of the plane, I must’ve snagged it and reopened the wound when … Drake and I were trying to break through the cockpit door.”

Velasquez held open Jason’s shirt. She studied the long cuts, which had begun to heal over but still had the rawness of a recent injury to them. She prodded one with the end of her pen, and the boy winced.

“Sorry.”

“It’s the truth. What else can I tell you?”

“Well, let’s see.” Bishop sat forward to make his presence known. “You told our colleague your name was Nicolas Aaronson. When they questioned you, you lied to a federal agent. That’s a felony. Were you covering for her?”

Jason became sullen again.

“Let me jog your memory.” Bishop held up a photograph of Nicole. It was recent; her mom had provided it. Bishop thought he saw a glint in Jason’s eyes when he looked at the picture. Velasquez saw it too.

“Like her, huh?” Velasquez asked. She took the picture and examined it. “Pretty.”

Jason shrugged. “Both our moms are doctors, so we had some stuff in common.”

“Other passengers told us you were pretty cozy together. In fact, weren’t you both in the thick of it, helping people?”

“Sure. I learned first aid in Scouts. And, like I said, my mom’s a doctor, so she taught me a few things. It’s the least I could do.” Jason rubbed his face.

“A regular hero,” Bishop remarked.

Jason gave the agent a blank look.

“She do anything weird or unusual while she was on the plane?” Velasquez asked, flicking through the file of passenger statements. So far, the agents had gleaned that two guys had stormed the cockpit, followed by Nicole. One of them was an off-duty pilot, and the other, Drake Jennings, a senator’s son. Bishop had separately commented on how good that was going to look for the senator’s ratings, but Velasquez didn’t doubt for a second that it had been genuine good nature on the boy’s part.

Fortunately for PRESS, a passenger had used her smartphone to film most of the events surrounding the hijacking. Bishop and Velasquez had sat back and watched the video footage unfold, certain they’d collect more clues. But there were none. All they could discern was that Nicole had disappeared into the cockpit after Drake and the pilot had gained entry.

“Look, I was up front with her, helping the flight attendant earlier, but after I was sure she was OK, I went back to my seat. I felt a little sick.”

“Did you think it was in any way odd that a teenage girl thought she could be of use up there?” Velasquez asked.

“I don’t know. I was just hoping we wouldn’t die up there.”

“Did you get her number?” Velasquez’s change of tack floored Jason. He gave her an inscrutable look.

“What, you people don’t have it?”

“She wasn’t asking that,” Bishop interjected belligerently.

“I figured I could find her on Facebook,” Jason said, shrugging.

“Good luck with that,” Bishop muttered under his breath.

“You haven’t arranged to meet again?”

“No. Not really. Everything happened so quickly afterward.”

“Raymond Turner, the pilot, mentioned that Nicole was doing something strange with her hands in the cockpit. Know anything about that?”

“No,” Jason replied, perhaps too quickly.

Bishop felt Velasquez tense up a little. Her pen-clicking stopped.

“I can see the blood on your shirt, Jason,” Velasquez said. “You’ve been bleeding recently. Did she heal those cuts for you?”

“No. What are you saying?” Jason’s voice was rising from irritation. “Look, some of the blood is probably from helping the injured flight attendant, or the second officer, or even the hijacker. There was just a lot of blood. Why can’t you people get that through your thick heads?”

Jason stood up from his chair. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at. These are pretty weird questions. You said you wanted to talk about the flight attendant and Nicole, and I’ve answered your questions to the best of my ability, given the circumstances. Shouldn’t you have to read me my Miranda rights? I know I’m entitled to speak to a lawyer.”

“Jason, please, sit down,” Velasquez said in a steely tone. She rose to meet his eye level.

“Plus,” Jason continued, undeterred, “I’ve been involved in a traumatic hijacking, and I would really like to go see my dad and stepmom, because they’re waiting for me.”

Jason was eyeballing Velasquez now, and she didn’t look like she was about to back down. Bishop resolved to give them 30 more seconds before intervening.

“I have my rights,” Jason said to the silent agents.

Velasquez observed him casually for a moment, then clicked her pen again and sat back down, as though Jason weren’t even there any longer, towering over her.

“Jason, you just got way too defensive with us, and I’ll be honest in saying I’m a little concerned about that,” Velasquez said. “I’m sorry — you’re going to have to come with us.”

“No!”

Ignoring Jason’s panic, she gestured to two of the local agents and handed Bishop her clipboard.

“See you back at the jet.”

Bishop watched her go. She was right to assume a connection between Nicole and the boy, Bishop thought, but what that connection was, he couldn’t fathom just yet. There was still something valuable here, however. If Nicole had cared enough about Jason to heal him, the boy could be a powerful bargaining chip. Right now, Bishop needed anything he could ge
t.