The Asset (34 page)

“I have an order from TSA Science and Tech to remove these upgrades. Based on your request. If you attempt to impede me in any way, I can have
you
arrested.”

Love walked up.

“Everything all right?” she asked.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?” Monty snarled.

“Can I talk to you in private, Tad?” Kennedy asked.

“Let's go.”

Love was giving him a
What the fuck
look as they walked away. The engineer was closing the panel on the scanner machine.

“Finished here,” he said. “Where's he going?”

“TSA paperwork,” Love said. “Shouldn't be long.”

As Kennedy and Tad walked toward the office, Kennedy stopped and used the keypad to one of the employee locker rooms the airport manager had allowed him to use from time to time to sleep or shower.

“Hey, where do you think you're going?” Monty said.

As Kennedy slipped inside the locker room, which was one of the few places in the airport without security cameras, he looked around to make sure the place was empty. When Monty knocked, Kennedy let him in.

“You want to tell me how you got access to this—”

Kennedy locked the bolt on the door and punched him square in the face. Monty fell back hard against the wall, dazed, and felt the blood running out of his nose. He took a swing at Kennedy, but missed, and Kennedy kicked him in the nuts. Monty doubled over, dry-heaving and cursing under his breath. He stood up straight again and looked at Kennedy, furious.

“I'm going to fucking kill you—”

He took another swing and Kennedy hit him with a right cross to the jaw, knocking him to the floor. Monty struggled to get up but Kennedy put a foot on his chest and pushed him back down.

“Down, boy. You don't want to fuck with me right now,” Kennedy warned.

“Have you lost your mind?” Monty asked, fear flashing in his beady eyes.

“Maybe. You see, Tad, you've ended my career. And remember what happened when you ended Glenn's career?”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes. And if you show up at any more airports where I'm trying to do what's left of my job, I'll kill you. No one ever saw this little exchange between us. It's not on any of our security cameras. And no one is going to believe someone like me did this to someone like you. At least for long enough for me to come to your house in Long Island—with the beautiful pond and boathouse—yes, I know where you live—and cut your throat in your sleep. I trained with the Israelis, motherfucker. And believe me, they taught me a lot more than how to pick a scumbag out of a crowd. So, you have to ask yourself if it's worth it. I'm already out. You did your job.”

He pressed on Monty's chest with his foot, causing Monty to cough and wheeze.

“But if you push me, I've got nothing else to lose. No house. No family. No kids. All the things
you
have . . .”

Kennedy took his foot off Monty's chest and walked to the door. Tad was just lying there, buying all the bullshit Kennedy had just shoveled into his face. He was genuinely afraid for his life, which almost made Kennedy laugh out loud.

“I'm glad we finally understand each other.”

Day 61

W
es Bowman was pleased with
the progress of Kennedy and company. Tad Monty seemed to drop off the radar screen in Detroit, which he was hoping would clear the way for them to finish the East Coast without incident. Wes had been sending spotters to some of the airports as a security measure. Both he and Kennedy knew that, no matter how much wool they pulled over the TSA's eyes, sooner or later Kruz was going to get wise to their actions and move to stop them. The spotters were there to pick up tails and dispose of them. The first signs of Kennedy and Co. being followed came in Detroit. Spotters didn't bag anyone, but they had seen four men covering them in rotations.

When the team was at LaGuardia, Wes flew in. Kennedy and Love were with the engineer, working on the scanner, and the spotters clocked the same men they'd seen in Detroit. Wes called Kennedy and told him to bring Love and the engineer and meet him outside on the Departures curb when they were finished.

“What's up? What are you doing here?” Kennedy asked.

“Just finish up and get out here.”

They walked outside and found Wes having a cigarette in the smoking area.

“You finish?” he asked.

The engineer patted the Pelican case that contained the nuke.

“All right, listen up,” Wes said. “Kruz's people are here, so follow me and do exactly as I say. Understood?”

They nodded and he led them into the parking garage, where he stripped the door lock on a BMW sedan and they got inside. Wes made Kennedy get behind the wheel, with Love in the passenger seat and him and the engineer in back.

“Valet key,” Wes said.

Love opened the glove compartment and handed the valet key to Kennedy.

“Where are they?” Love whispered.

Three men with guns walked into the garage and spread out. Wes pointed them out and pulled his gun. The engineer pulled his as well.

“Start the car,” Wes said.

Kennedy started it. As soon as he did, one of the men stepped out in front of the car fifty feet away and pointed his gun at them.

“Punch it!” Wes said. “Love, get down!”

Kennedy hit the accelerator and sped right at the man as he fired three rounds into the windshield. One of them hit the engineer in the head, killing him. Wes secured the bomb case on the floor and hung out the window, firing back at the man. He shot him in the shoulder and spun him around before Kennedy hit him at full speed with the car and threw him like a rag doll through the windshield of another car.

Kennedy raced through the garage and got on the exit ramp. One of the men fired at them from behind, blowing a hole in the back window. The bullet ripped through Kennedy's headrest and narrowly missed him as it lodged in the dash. Wes shot back and hit the man in the chest and forehead.

They rounded the corner and were spiraling down the exit ramp when another man jumped from the ledge on the next floor up, and onto the roof of the car. He smashed Love's side window and tried to get his gun into the car to shoot, but Kennedy swerved hard and the man lost his grip. Trying to catch himself, he dropped his gun into Love's window. She picked it up and fired it through the roof, blowing him off the top of the car. Kennedy saw him in the rearview as he smashed into a concrete pillar and rolled down the exit ramp.

Kennedy floored it out of the parking garage and drove them to the cargo terminal where the pilots were waiting with the plane. He stopped
the car and everyone tried to catch their breath. Love was freaking out. She couldn't stomach the sight of the dead engineer, so she got out and jogged back to the plane.

“I'll take care of this,” Wes said, covering the body with his coat.

“Can you get me someone else?” Kennedy asked.

“Not enough time. You have two days to knock out the last two airports. Think you can do it yourself?”

“I have to. Whatever it takes.”

CHARLOTTE DOUGLAS INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

Day 62

A
fter LaGuardia, there were two
airports left to disarm—Charlotte and Atlanta.

Because of the heat Kruz had on them, the pilots changed destination headings and altered their course several times on their way to Charlotte, not committing to an airfield until an hour before landing. They chose the Gastonia Municipal Airport twenty miles from Charlotte Douglas, and took a taxi in. Love was looking worse for the wear. Killing Kruz's thug at LaGuardia was clearly weighing heavily on her, but she didn't want to talk about it. Kennedy tried to convince her to sit Charlotte out and get some rest until he got back, but she refused to leave his side.

When they got to the airport, Kennedy went right to the scanner and pulled the bomb. He didn't want to take any chances, so he put Love in a cab, and she took the device back to the plane. While he was closing up the scanner panel, Dot, Charlotte's TSA chief, walked up. She was in her sixties and looked like a Norman Rockwell grandmother, with roller-sculpted hair and a wise face. She smiled at Kennedy and touched his hand in a neighborly way. She was a friend, but he could tell she was miffed.

“You're a good man to come visit me like this,” Dot said. “But I sure would have appreciated a call first.”

“Sorry, Dot. Trying to get all these done before the holiday.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. Seemed like a good fix to me. But, I guess you win some, you lose some.”

“Don't I know it,” Kennedy said, anxious to get the hell out of there.

Her mobile phone rang.

“Excuse me a minute,” she said and picked up. “This is Dot.”

While she had her phone call, Kennedy called Love to check on her. She didn't answer. Dot finished her call and walked back over.

“Buy you a cup of coffee? You look like you could use it,” she said.

Kennedy looked at his watch.

“Actually, Dot, I don't know if I have time. Got another plane to catch.”

“Okay, I'll walk you to your gate,” she said.

They walked down the concourse, but Dot turned and started walking in the opposite direction of the gates.

“I hate to have to break it to you, Dot, but we're going the wrong way.”

“Come on, I want to show you something. You're going to love this. It won't take but a minute.”

“All right. I guess I can spare at least one minute,” Kennedy said, feeling the pressure to get out of there mounting.

She punched in her keypad code and opened a door that led to an elevated platform overlooking the apron and airplane ramps. The engine noise was deafening. Dot moved closer to him and smiled. Kennedy felt uncomfortable.

“Tell you a secret?” she asked.

“Uh, sure?”

She leaned in and whispered, “FBI just called me back in the office. Airport is surrounded with federal agents. They're looking for you.”

“What—” Kennedy started.

“Just shut up and listen,” Dot said, still congenially. “There's only one way out of here. Catawba River's about a mile past the airport fence. Can you swim?”

“Dot, what the hell—”

“I said, can you swim?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Now, before you go, I need to ask you a question. And the way you answer that question is real important. Understood?”

Kennedy nodded.

“Why are they after you?”

She looked at him long and hard. He knew if he didn't answer truthfully, she would never believe any bullshit. Dot had a lot of talent for the job, and Kennedy had trained her and her people very well. If she didn't like his answer, he'd never even make it down the platform steps. So he told her the truth, and she could see he wasn't lying.

“Is Charlotte Douglas Airport safe?” she asked.

“It is now,” he said.

“Good. I thank you for that. Better run along now. And good luck.”

“Thanks,” he said and took off down the stairs.

As Kennedy was sprinting across the apron, Love and the pilots were already in FBI custody. When he got near the airport fence, police cars and government SUVs sped after him at about ninety miles per hour and closing fast. By the time he got to the fence and started climbing, they were a hundred yards off his tail and he could hear them on their bullhorn shouting for him to stop. The top of the fence had a short coil of barbed wire. Kennedy threw his coat over it and flipped over the top. He tore up his arm and legs on the wire tines and landed hard on the other side.

The police got out of their truck and ran after him, guns drawn, still shouting at him to stop. Kennedy ran into some tall bushes for cover and kept running, his lungs burning. The cops opened fire. Bullets zipped through the underbrush and exploded in the dirt around his feet. He zigzagged through the dense growth, branches clawing at his arms and legs, shredding his clothes. When he reached the river, he was so exhausted he could barely stand. He looked back and saw the police truck barreling toward him on a dirt road a mile down to his left. More bullets peppered the undergrowth and skipped across the water. He dove headfirst into the river, which was moving swiftly and cold as ice. More bullets exploded across the surface, so he swam deeper and let the current carry him for as long as he could hold his breath. He was about to black out so he surfaced, gasping for air, and found himself in a wooded area dotted with trailer homes, rotting boathouses, and abandoned cars.