Total Control (32 page)

"The night before Jason supposedly left for L.A. he and I were working late on a project in his office. We left together. He secured his office door behind me. His office remained locked from that moment until we had the company come to deactivate the alarm and remove the door."

"So?"

"When we entered the office, I noticed immediately that the microphone on Jason's computer was bent almost in half. Like someone had hit it and then tried to straighten it."

"Why would you think that someone was Sidney Archer? Maybe Jason came back later that night."

"If he had there would be a record of it, both electronically and with the on-site security guard." Rowe paused, dwelling on the memory of the night of Sidney's visit. Finally he threw up his hands.

"! know of no other way to put it. She was sneaking around. She claimed she was not in the restricted area, and yet I'm sure she was.

I think the security guard was covering for her. And Sidney told me some bogus story about meeting Jason's secretary there to get some of Jason's personal things."

"Doesn't that sound plausible?"

"It would have, except I casually asked Kay Vincent, Jason's secretary, if she had spoken to Sidney recently. And she had, from her home, on the very night Sidney went down to the office. She knew Kay wasn't there."

Sawyer sat back in his chair. Rowe continued. "You need a special chip card even to begin the deactivation process on Jason's office door.

In addition, you need to know a four-digit password or the alarm will go off. It happened, in fact, when we initially tried to enter his office.

That's when we found out Jason had changed the password. I even considered attempting it the night Sidney came by, only I knew it would be futile. I had a master security card, but without the password, the alarm would've just gone off again." He paused to take a breath. "Sidney could've have had access to Jason's security cam and he could've told her the password. I can't believe I'm saying this, but she's involved in something, I just don't know what."

"I just looked through Archer's office and I didn't see any microphone.

What did it look like?"

"About five inches long, the thickness of a pencil, small speaker at one end. It was mounted directly on the computer's CPU on the bottom left-hand side. It's for voice-activated commands. One day it'll replace the keyboard entirely. It's a godsend for people who can't type well."

"I didn't see anything like that."

"Probably not. I'm sure it was removed from the office because it was so damaged."

Sawyer took a few minutes to jot down notes and asked Rowe a few follow-up questions. Then Rowe escorted him back to the exit.

"You think of anything else, Quentin, you let me know." He handed Rowe a business card.

"I wish I knew what the hell was going on, Agent Sawyer. I have my hands full with CyberCom, and now this."

"I'm doing what I can, Quentin. Hang in there."

Rowe slowly went back inside, Sawyer's card clutched in his hand. Sawyer walked to his car; he could hear his cellular phone buzzing. Ray Jackson's voice was agitated. "You were right."

"About what?"

"Sidney Archer's on the move."

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

A half block behind the airport cab were the two FBI tail cars.

Two other sedans were running on parallel streets and would cross over at strategic points to take over the chase so as not to alert the person they were tracking. That person swept the hair from her eyes, took a deep breath and stared out the window of the cab. Sidney Archer swiftly ran through the details of her trip once more and wondered if she had just exchanged one nightmare for another.

"She came back to the house after the memorial service, stayed a little while and then the cab came and picked her up. The direction they're heading, my call is Dulles Airport," Ray Jackson said into the car phone. "She made one stop. At a bank. Probably withdrawing some cash."

Lee Sawyer pressed the phone against his ear and fought through rush-hour traffic. "Where are you now?"

Jackson relayed his position. "You shouldn't have trouble, Lee, we're crawling through traffic here."

Sawyer started looking at cross streets. "I can be up with you in about ten minutes. How many pieces of luggage she carrying?"

"One medium suitcase."

"Short trip, then."

"Probably." Jackson eyed the cab. "Oh, shit!"

"What?" Sawyer almost yelled into the phone.

In dismay Jackson watched as the cab abruptly pulled into the Vienna metro subway station. "Looks like the lady just had a change in travel arrangements. She's hopping on the subway." Jackson watched Sidney Archer step out of the cab.

"Get a couple of guys in there right now, Ray."

"Roger that, double-quick."

Sawyer turned on his grille lights and cut around the stalled traffic.

When his phone buzzed again, he snatched it up. "Talk to me, Ray, only good news."

His partner's breathing was a little more normal. "Okay, we got two guys on with her."

"I'm one minute from the station. Which way she headed? Wait a minute, Vienna's the end of the orange line. She must be headed into town."

"Maybe, Lee, unless she's gonna double back on us and grab another cab when she exits the subway. Dulles is the other way. And we got a potential problem with our lines of communication. The walkie-talkies don't always work so well on the metro. If she changes trains inside the metro and our guys lose her, she's gone."

Sawyer thought for a moment. "Did she take her luggage, Ray?"

"What? Damn. No, she didn't."

"Get two cars glued to that cab, Ray. I doubt Mrs. Archer is leaving behind her clean undies and her makeup kit."

"I'm on it myself. You want to pair with me?"

Sawyer was about to agree, then abruptly changed his mind. He streaked through a red light. "You hang on it, Ray, I'm gonna cover another angle. Check in every five minutes and let's hope she doesn't give us the slip."

Sawyer did a U-turn and hurtled east.

Sidney had changed trains at the Rosslyn substation and boarded a blue-line train heading south. At the Pentagon metro station, the doors on the subway opened and approximately one thousand people careened off the train cars. Sidney was carrying the white coat she had been wearing. She didn't want to stand out from the crowd.

The blue sweater she wore was swiftly lost in the thickening crowds of similarly attired military personnel.

The two FBI agents pushed through the masses as they desperately tried to relocate Sidney Archer. Neither one noticed Sidney re-board the same train several cars down, and she continued on to National Airport. She looked behind her several times, but the train now held no obvious pursuers.

Sawyer pulled to a halt in front of the main terminal at National Airport, flashed his credentials to a surprised parking lot attendant and raced into the building. A few seconds later he stopped dead and his shoulders sagged in frustration as he scanned the wall-to-wall people. "Shit!" The next second he flattened himself against the wall as Sidney Archer passed barely ten feet in front of him.

As soon as Sidney was safely ahead of him, Sawyer started tracking her. The short journey ended in the line at the United Airlines ticket desk, which stood twenty deep.

Out of sight of both Sawyer and Sidney, Paul Brophy rolled his luggage carrier toward an American Airlines departure gate. Inside Brophy's inner suit pocket was Sidney's entire travel itinerary gleaned from her conversation with Jason Archer. He continued on unhurriedly. He could afford that luxury as chaos swirled around him. He would even have time to check in with Goldman.

After forty-five minutes Sidney finally received her ticket and boarding pass. Sawyer watched from a distance and noted the large wad of bills she used for the purchase. As soon as she had disappeared around the corner, Sawyer swiftly sliced through the line, his FBI badge prominently held in his hand as the first wave of angry travelers quickly parted for him.

The ticket person stared at the badge and then Sawyer.

"The woman you just sold a ticket to, Sidney Archer. Tall, good-looking blond, dressed in blue with a white coat over her arm,"

Sawyer added just in case his prey had used an alias. "What flight is she on? Quick."

The woman froze for an instant and then started punching keys.

"Flight 715 to New Orleans. It leaves in twenty minutes."

"New Orleans?" said Sawyer, more to himself than to the woman.

Now he momentarily regretted having personally interviewed Sidney Archer. She would recognize him instantly. But there was no time to call in another agent. "What gate?"

"Eleven."

Sawyer leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "Okay, what's her seat?"

The woman glanced at the screen. "Twenty-seven C."

"Is there a problem here?" The woman's supervisor had drifted over. Sawyer showed her his FBI credentials and quickly explained his situation. The supervisor picked up a phone and alerted both the boarding gate and security, who would, in turn, inform the flight crew. The last thing Sawyer needed was a flight attendant spotting his gun during the trip with the result that the New Orleans police would be waiting for him at the door when the plane landed.

A few minutes later Sawyer, wearing a beat-up hat hastily borrowed from security personnel, his coat collar turned up, strode down the terminal's broad aisle, an airline security officer in tow.

Sawyer was escorted around the metal detectors while he scanned the crowds for Sidney Archer. He spotted her at the departure gate already in line to board. He immediately turned around and sat facing away from the gate. Several minutes after the last group of people moved onto the plane, Sawyer walked down the jetwalk. He settled down into first class, in one of the few available seats on the crowded jet, and allowed himself a brief smile. It was the first time he had ever flown in such luxury. He fumbled through his wallet for his phone card. His finger closed around Sidney Archer's business card. There were phone numbers for Sidney's direct office line, pager, fax, and mobile phone. Sawyer shook his head. That was the private sector, for you. Need to know where you are every minute.

He pulled out the plane phone and slid his card through it.

The flight to New Orleans was nonstop and two and a half hours later the jet was descending into New Orleans International Airport.

Sidney Archer had not budged from her seat the entire flight, for which Lee Sawyer was immensely grateful. Sawyer had made a number of phone calls from the plane and his team was in place at the airport. When the door to the jet opened, Sawyer was the first one off.

When Sidney exited the airport into the mugginess of the New Orleans night, she did not notice the black sedan with the tinted windows parked across the narrow roadway used to pick up or drop off passengers. Settled into her seat in the battered gray Cadillac with CAJUN CAB COMPANY stenciled on the side, Sidney loosened the collar of her shirt and wiped a bit of perspiration from her forehead.

"The LaFitte Guest House, please. Bourbon Street."

As the cab drifted away from the curb, the sedan waited a moment, then followed. Inside the sedan Lee Sawyer was filling in the other agents on the situation, his eyes all the time riveted on the dirty Caddie.

Sidney stared anxiously 'out the cab window. They left the highway and headed to the Vieux Carre. In the background the New Orleans skyline glittered out of the darkness, the massive hump of the Superdome resting in the foreground.

Bourbon Street was narrow and lined with garish edifices of, by American standards at least, the "ancient" French Quarter. At this time of the year, the sixty-six blocks of the Quarter were relatively quiet, although the smell of beer rose powerfully from the sidewalks as casually dressed vacationers staggered around carrying large cups of the stuff. Sidney left the cab in front of the LaFitte Guest House. She took a quick look up and down the street. No cars were in sight. She walked up the steps and pushed open the heavy front door.

Inside, the comforting smell of antiques embraced her. To her left was a large and stylishly decorated drawing room. The night clerk at the small desk raised his eyebrows slightly at Sidney's lack of baggage but smiled and nodded when she explained it was coming later.

She was given the choice of riding the small elevator to the third floor, but chose the broad staircase instead. Key in hand, she went up two flights of stairs to her room. Her room contained a four-poster bed, writing desk, three walls of bookshelves and a Victorian-style chaise lounge.

Outside, the black sedan pulled into an alleyway half a block down from the LaFitte Guest House. A man dressed in jeans and a windbreaker alighted from the rear of the car, walked nonchalantly down the street and went into the building. Five minutes later he was back in the car.

Lee Sawyer leaned anxiously over the front seat. "What's going on in there?"

The man unzipped his windbreaker, revealing the pistol in his waistband. "Sidney Archer checked in for two days. Room's on the third floor right across from the top of the stairs. Said her baggage was coming later."

The driver looked over at Sawyer. "You think she's meeting up with Jason Archer?"

"Let's put it this way: I'd be damn surprised if she flew down here just for some R&R," Sawyer replied.

"What do you want to do?"

"Discreetly surround this place. Jason Archer shows up, we grab him. In the meantime, let's see if we can get some surveillance equipment in the room next to hers. Then see if you can get a tap on her phone line. Use a male and female team so the Archers don't get their radar up. Sidney Archer isn't someone you want to underestimate."

Sawyer's tone was filled with grudging admiration. He looked out the window. "Let's get out of here. I don't want to give Jason Archer any reason not to show up." The sedan pulled slowly away.

Sidney Archer sat in the chair by the bed, staring out the window of her room onto the side balcony of the LaFitte Guest House and awaiting her husband. She rose and nervously paced the room. She was fairly certain she had lost the FBI agents in the subway, but she could not be absolutely sure. If they managed to trace her? She shivered. Ever since Jason's phone call had thrown her life into a cataclysm for a second time, Sidney had felt invisible walls closing in around her.