Friday
“Something’s off.” LeJeune got up and started to pace.
I followed him with my eyes. “What?”
“It’s too easy.”
“Maybe to you. I thought he made it pretty clear. No weapons, comms, flares—”
He cut me off. “That’s par for the course.” He stopped pacing but continued to look tense and coiled, ready to spring into action. “Why would he stipulate you have to hand the drive over? I don’t like it.” He turned to Jimmy and Luke. “Tell me about the airstrip.”
Jimmy spoke up. “It’s about a mile-long strip at the back of the property. It’s deteriorated over the years. Broken concrete. Weeds. It was built to fly in performers and stars who appeared at the Playboy club.”
“And the big rollers,” Luke added.
“What’s off to the sides? Who monitors it?”
“It’s a private strip. Only people like Luke use it.”
“You have your own plane?” LeJeune asked.
“I do,” Luke answered. “But it’s not restricted. You need to fly in or out, it’s not a problem. Sometimes the city of Lake Geneva supports the strip with some funding. Sometimes they don’t.”
“There are woods on one side,” Jimmy took over. “The resort property is on the other. There’s a small hangar on one end, surrounded by an equipment shed and rows of seedlings and flowers that make up the resort’s nursery.”
“Can my men take positions in the woods?”
“Probably. But I don’t know how you’re going to get them there ahead of time.”
“Is there any other way to get to the airstrip?”
“You mean besides going through the resort?”
LeJeune nodded.
“There’s an abandoned dirt road that runs parallel to the strip and connects with County Route 45,” Jimmy said. “But it’s a quarter mile to the airstrip on unpaved land. They better hope they have off-road tires.”
“What about eyes in the sky?”
“It won’t be a great view,” Jimmy said. “Too much woodland.”
“Still, we’ll get a sat on it.” LeJeune pulled out his cell, then stopped. “Of course, he will too, now that I’m thinking about it.”
“Stokes?” Luke asked.
“He was Agency. He’d know the right people to call. Monitoring sats is one of the most boring jobs in the world. For a pocket full of money, those monitors will do anything. This’ll seem like the Kentucky Derby to them.”
“You would know,” I said. LeJeune was from Louisiana. Close enough.
He whipped around. “Feeling better, eh, cher?”
I allowed myself to smile.
“Good. Because you’re going to need balls of steel in a while.”
My smile faded.
He looked at his watch. “We’ve got two hours. My team will be here in fifteen. I’ll reconnoiter with them and come up with a plan.”
Fifteen minutes later, a swarm of men in a van and two unmarked cars arrived. I was forced out of my sluggishness to make huge pots of coffee. They’d brought three dozen doughnuts, which surprised me. I thought cops had the market sewn up. After getting coffee and taking their treats, they went back outside to talk with LeJeune. Luke and Jimmy went with them.
I stole one of the doughnuts and peeked outside while I ate it. A group of eight men, all wearing their navy FBI jackets with yellow letters, stood in a semicircle around LeJeune. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I saw a few nods. Others shook their heads. One man started scraping his foot on the gravel driveway. It was a cold night, but not brittle, a sure sign winter was loosening its grip. And thankfully there was no snow.
After ten minutes the men dispersed and took off in the van. Jimmy went with them. Luke and LeJeune came back into the kitchen.
“That’s one good thing…,” Luke was saying.
“What’s good?” I asked.
“They traced Stokes’ cell.”
“Really?” I brightened.
“Yeah,” LeJeune said. “But if he’s worth his salt, he anticipated we’d get it. He’s probably using a burner.”
I rubbed my arms, feeling chilly in spite of the fire. “Well, it’s something. Where did your men go?”
“To stake out the woods beside the airstrip.”
“What happens if Stokes finds them?”
LeJeune waved a dismissive hand. “What he said was bullshit. He knows we’ll be there. He’s probably got his men positioned already.”
A pulse of anxiety streaked up my spine. “I don’t get it. If you send your men out and he sends his, and you both know it, what’s the point? What’s to prevent all-out Armageddon?”
“That’s why we game it out ahead of time. Stokes knows that. He’s figuring out his options now. Don’t worry about it.”
I wanted to slap him. The old LeJeune was back. Telling me not to worry my pretty little head about anything.
“Well, I am worried. You guys are playing games with the life of my daughter!” I turned to Luke. “What do you think, Luke?”
“I think you should listen to the FBI.”
“You too?” I glared at him. “Please. Someone tell me something this pretty little head can understand that won’t ruin my pretty little manicure when I belt you both in the face.”
Luke raised his hands in a back-off gesture, but LeJeune grinned.
“She’s baaack,” he cracked. “Seriously, though, sit down and I’ll walk you through the plan.”
“What plan? I walk down the airstrip from one direction. Rachel and Stokes come from the other. I give him the drive. He gives me Rachel.”
“Not so simple. First of all, it won’t be him. It will be one of his proxies. He doesn’t want anyone to get a camera shot of his face. Which, of course, we would do. But that’s not the main thing. The asshole has got some play up his sleeve.”
“What kind of play?”
“I don’t know. But there is one. Got to be. His conversation with you was too vague. He didn’t say anything we didn’t expect. We have to make some assumptions.”
“Like what?”
He didn’t answer. “We’re at a disadvantage.”
I raised my hand. “Including me.”
He smiled. “That’s why you have us. We’ll have your back.”
“So you are bringing guns.”
LeJeune rolled his eyes. “Of course we are. So will he.”
Again, I asked Luke, “Are you okay with that?”
“Ellie, like I said, he’s the professional. Listen to him.”
“So what do I do?”
“You walk down the airstrip, give the guy who’s with Rachel the drive, lead Rachel back. But expect the unexpected. Be prepared.”
“Hey, that’s one hell of a plan, LeJeune.”