Saturday Morning
We took off around one thirty in Luke’s pickup. Ten minutes later we reached the Lodge. Driving past the entrance brought back memories of the summer I produced a video for them, the summer I met Luke. Now we meandered through twisty roads, empty and bare at this hour, and pulled up to the hangar at the end of the airstrip. LeJeune’s men had already arrived, their bright yellow letters visible even in the blackest part of the night. I counted more than a dozen of us, including three officers from the Lake Geneva police. All to rescue one young woman. Most of the officers had shoulder mics and cell phones clipped to their waists. Most carried Maglites. If they were carrying guns, which I assumed they were, they kept their weapons holstered and well out of sight.
One of the FBI men worked off a clipboard, estimating the distance between the hangar and the opposite end. I wasn’t sure why. Jimmy had already told them it was about a mile. While they were working, I wandered over to the hangar. I’d been on the airstrip a few times but never at night. It was in pretty bad condition, as I recalled, studded with chunks of cracked asphalt and rocks. Then again, no airplanes were ever scheduled to take off or land. Except Luke’s. And the executives from the resort.
I followed LeJeune over to the guy with the clipboard. “We have no clear lines of sight because of the woods,” he told Nick. “But at least there are no buildings, except for the hangar and equipment room, and they’ve been searched and cleared.”
“How will Rachel get here?” I asked.
“She’ll likely be in a van or SUV.” The FBI guy pointed to the far end of the airstrip. “They’ll come in from that end.”
“Do you think they’ll try anything? A double-cross or something?” I asked him.
He looked over at LeJeune, who replied, “Well, that’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, isn’t it, cher?”
I rubbed my forehead, trying to suppress my anxiety.
LeJeune walked over to a small knot of officers. He beckoned me to follow him. “Come over here, Ellie. We need to wire you up.”
“You didn’t say anything about a wire.”
“It’s for your protection. I want to hear everything that’s said, and I’ll be whispering in your ear what to say back.”
“What if Stokes spots it?”
LeJeune shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“He has his goons rip it off and kill Rachel.”
“I think the possibility is pretty slim. He doesn’t care about anything except that drive.”
I kept my mouth shut. One of his men pinned a mic under my jacket and worked a tiny earpiece into my ear.
“Now put your hat on.”
I did.
“Good.” LeJeune made a call on his cell. “We’re pretty exposed. Nothing we can do about that.” Was he talking to his boss?
“So we either get double-crossed or we don’t…Yeah. Got it.” He disconnected, turned to his men. “Those of you with radios, let’s make sure we’re on the same frequency. Channel four.” Then he called out to Luke.
“You got your b-nocs?”
Luke held up his binoculars. “Infrared.”
LeJeune nodded. “You’ll be our eyes.”
“You got it,” Luke said.
Two vans lurched into sight at the opposite end of the strip.
“Okay, men,” LeJeune called out. “Show’s starting.”
Luke brought the binoculars to his face and peered through them. “Two men exiting the first van. One is the driver.” I heard a faint thud as a door slid shut. “One man exiting the other van. Passenger side.” Another thump. “Looks like there are three inside the second van.”
All at once, the headlights of the first van blinked twice.
Jimmy blinked the headlights of his cruiser in response.
“How many?” LeJeune asked.
“Counting Rachel, six visibles,” Luke said.
“Let’s hope there’s not another vehicle idling in the woods.”
No one answered.
LeJeune looked at me. “You got the drive?”
I nodded shakily and slipped it out of my jacket pocket.
“You know what to do.”
A couple of the FBI guys snapped on their Maglites, aiming them at me like spotlights. I started forward.
“Slower, Ellie. I know you want Rachel. But no sudden moves. You got it?”
I tensed. I was only a few yards from the hangar, but a wave of isolation washed over me as if I was the only living person in the world. I had LeJeune in my ears and Luke on my back. Still, I prepared to do battle like a gladiator fighting solo in the forum.
From the corner of my eye I spotted the woods. FBI snipers were somewhere in the dense brush. Then again, LeJeune had said Stokes’ men would be there too. I wouldn’t count on help from that direction.
A minute later, the second van’s doors opened again. A figure got out from the front passenger seat.
“Is that Stokes?” LeJeune asked.
“I can’t tell,” I said. I’d met him only once. It was a stocky figure, though; it could have been him.
“Able, you got your camera out? Try and get as many shots as you can.”
“Roger that,” a voice said in my ear. “But they’re not gonna be very good.”
“Don’t worry about that. Just get them.”
The back door of the van slid open and another figure got out. Rachel.
“Okay. Daughter is out,” Luke said. “The men in the other van are out too.”
“By the way, cher, the home office says we have eyes on us.” He spoke into his cell. “Are you seeing anything out of the ordinary?” There was a pause. Then: “Good. Start walking again, Ellie.”
I took a few more steps forward.
The man who may or may not have been Stokes went around to the back of the van, opened the door, and removed something bulky. I narrowed my eyes, trying to see what it was, but I was too far away.
LeJeune caught it too. He talked to the satellite monitor. “What’s going on, Skylight?” A pause. “Well, get your fucking eyes closer. Luke? You see anything?”
“Not yet.”
The man took whatever he was holding and carried it back to where Rachel stood.
“What’s going on, guys?” I asked.
“Looks like he’s putting something on her,” Luke said. Then after a pause, he cried out. “No. It can’t be.”
“What? What is it?” A fresh wave of tremors shot through my hands.
Luke started to say something but suddenly went quiet. I whipped around. LeJeune was making the zip-it motion with his fingers. I shaded my eyes from the glare of the Maglites. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Turn around,” LeJeune said in my ear. I did. “Now, Ellie, I don’t want you to react. You understand? Pretend I didn’t say a word.”
“Why not?” My voice was high and scratchy and tentative.
“He’s putting a suicide vest on her.”