WE HUSTLED to Gate 47. This was the big break we had been hoping for. We had beaten Coco Nimburu to her next target. If I could get Sterling Wise to talk, we could find the rich woman and put an end to the carnage. Kelly and I made it to Gate 47 in record time. We looked for Sterling. He had said that he was a tall black man wearing a blue suit and that his assistant Tiffany was a white brunette wearing a wine-colored pantsuit and pumps.
Kelly spotted them. “There they are.”
But suddenly I felt the presence of the Assassin. She was here. But how? I wondered. How could she know so much? Someone from the bureau was definitely feeding her information. Could the pilots have radioed back to FBI Headquarters and told Michelson or St. Clair? As far as I knew, only Kelly and I knew we were meeting Sterling and Tiffany at gate 47. Yet Coco Nimburu was there, too.
“She’s here, Kelly. Stay close to me. She could be anyone.”
“I know,” Kelly said nervously.
We approached Sterling and Tiffany with caution. I was watching everyone, looking for Coco’s eyes. She wasn’t going to get him. Not this time. I would see to it. I flashed my credentials and said, “Come with us. The Assassin is here.”
Tiffany said, “How do we know you’re really FBI?”
“Ma’am, you’re going to have to trust me,” I told her.
“That’s not good enough,” Sterling said, as he bent over to set his luggage on the floor.
I heard the shuriken whistle through the air just before it found its way into Tiffany’s head. Just for an instant, her eyes registered surprise before she fell to the floor. Deafening screams and shrieks filled the air. Kelly tackled Sterling like she was an NFL linebacker. I pulled my 9-millimeter. People were running in all directions. I searched for Coco, but I think she had blended in with the fleeing crowd, running and screaming like everybody else.