Vanessa felt eyes following her the moment she stepped into the airport terminal in Maracaibo. Her training prevented her from reacting to the knowledge that she was being watched, but her mind raced. How could anyone know she was here? Why would anyone even care?
Vanessa had changed planes and identities several times on her way to Aruba, the most recent switch occurring in Panama City. Even though she had adopted her old alias Lina Ramir for this most recent flight, it was doubtful anyone would be able to track her down that quickly. She had purchased her ticket at the airport counter, and the flight had been less than an hour long.
She pulled her carry-on behind her, debating whether she should keep walking through the terminal or duck into the restroom, knowing she would be trapped.
She kept walking, her eyes casually scanning the area. It took her several sweeps of the terminal to identify the problem. The woman dressed as a custodian caught her eye. For a brief moment, Vanessa saw her watching her beneath lowered lashes as she went about changing the liner of a trash can. The action itself was innocent enough, but Vanessa sensed an awareness in the woman that piqued her suspicion.
Not seeing a lot of options, Vanessa headed for customs. She studied the other passengers, choosing to stay close to a family of five, the three children all under the age of four.
Anticipating that they might need some help to get through the checkpoint, Vanessa dug her passport out of her bag and got into the line, which was still six people deep. As she did so, she shifted her body so she could check out the custodian.
Her heartbeat quickened when she saw that the woman was no longer visible, even though the trash bag she had just emptied was still tied up and sitting on the floor beside the can.
The line moved, and Vanessa indulged in another quick sweep of her surroundings. Again, she didn’t see the woman anywhere.
Vanessa reminded herself to stay calm. She was in a public place with plenty of people around. All she had to do was be smart and not let herself get cornered.
The woman in front of her juggled the baby on her hip so she could dig for her passport. Unable to easily retrieve her documents, she shifted the diaper bag to her husband, who was forced to let go of their two-year-old’s hand. Almost as though he’d been waiting for the opportunity, the little boy tried to dart away as soon as his hand was free.
Vanessa spoke in Spanish when she scooped him up. “Hold on there. Your mama won’t want you running off.”
The little boy gave her a mischievous grin and pointed at the window, despite a sippy cup in one hand. “Plane.”
“Yes, that’s a plane.”
The woman turned to see her son in a stranger’s arms. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Vanessa didn’t release him. Instead, she motioned toward the customs agent. “You have your hands full. If you want, I’ll hold him until we get through customs.”
The woman clearly debated for a second, but when her infant started squirming, she gratefully accepted the offer. “Thank you. I appreciate the help.”
The woman’s husband looked understandably protective of his young family, and instead of letting Vanessa fall into line behind him, he and his oldest son shifted behind Vanessa so she was flanked by the two parents.
Vanessa handed her passport over to the customs officer and took advantage of being concealed so she could look around for the custodian again.
Her heart sank when she noticed the woman standing beside two policemen. Her training could help her keep from getting cornered by another civilian, but taking on two armed police officers wasn’t likely to end well. Even if she could escape them, she would undoubtedly end up in the public eye.
From where she stood among the throngs of people in the customs lines, she could stay hidden by the crowds. Once she passed through, she would be easy to spot.
She had to change her appearance somehow, at least long enough to slip past the custodian and police.
The toddler in her arms pointed at the planes again, and once more, she noticed the cup in his hand. She jiggled him on her hip slightly and heard liquid sloshing against the lid.
Taking another quick survey of her surroundings, she saw the boy’s mother still had her attention on the baby, but the father was watching her closely.
Rather than try to distract him to put her plan in play, she took the opposite approach. “Are you from here?” she asked the father.
“No. We live in Mexico. We’re here to visit my wife’s parents.”
“I’m sure they must be excited to see their grandchildren.”
“Very much,” the man replied politely, though he still seemed wary.
Keeping her eyes on the father, she put one hand on the cup as though keeping the boy from flailing it around. While continuing with the small talk, she slowly managed to unscrew the lid.
When the customs officer finished reviewing their documents, Vanessa reached out to retrieve hers, deliberately spilling the contents of the boy’s cup all over her shirt and jacket. From the scent, she guessed it was apple juice.
“Oh no.” Vanessa said the words quietly enough that it didn’t draw too much attention to her. “I’m sorry. The cup spilled.”
“You’re drenched. I am so sorry.” The mother turned to face Vanessa. “I don’t know how that happened.”
“It was just an accident.” Vanessa continued forward a few feet so they could get out of everyone’s way.
“What can I do to help?” the mother said.
“I think if I can just get my other jacket out of my bag, I’ll be fine.”
The husband stepped forward to help too, taking his son from Vanessa so she could shed her scarf and sweater. Ignoring the wetness that had seeped into the plain white T-shirt she had worn beneath her sweater, she pulled out a black jacket and slipped it on. She then dug out another scarf and used it to tie back her hair.
Wrapping the soiled clothes in a wad, she stuffed them into her suitcase, zipped it closed, and stood up. “Thanks for your help.”
“Thank you for yours. I’m really sorry about your clothes.”
“It’s fine. Really.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the police and the custodian woman searching the crowd. She deliberately kept walking with the young family, positioning herself so the man was between her and the people she was trying to avoid.
Her mind was spinning with possibilities of how anyone would know she was here and why they would be looking for her. Only Warren and Paige knew she was coming to Maracaibo, and only Warren had access to her full travel plans. Knowing she could trust her long-time agency associate, where could the information have leaked?
Had she been too quick to trust her new assistant? Surely no one could have managed to plant someone that close to her, especially not coming through a medical office, but doubt niggled in the back of her mind.
It was almost as if someone was expecting her to come, but how could that be? She hadn’t even known she would be here until first thing this morning. Had it not been for the message that Seth was still missing, she would have turned around and gone back home to Virginia.
She continued toward baggage claim despite having all of her own luggage with her. Never comfortable with spending idle time in airports, she had packed everything she needed in her carry-on and in the large shoulder bag she had used as her personal item.
With her free hand, she pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans. She noticed she had a voice message, but she ignored that, instead switching to the camera function. As she turned the corner away from customs, she reversed the camera and used it as a mirror so she could see the custodian over her shoulder. Vanessa snapped several photos, pretending to try to get reception in the crowded airport.
Once out of sight, Vanessa said her good-byes to the young family and headed for the airport exit.
She noticed a man with fair skin and light-brown hair heading for the same exit, and she slowed down. From the brand of his jeans, she guessed he was likely American, and at the moment, Vanessa preferred not to be near anyone from her own country.
To her dismay, he also slowed down. She was too close to the door to change direction now without being obvious. They reached the doorway at the same time, and the man bumped into Vanessa in the same way she might if she was trying to pickpocket someone or plant a tracking device.
She made a mental note to check her clothes for anything that didn’t belong. Then the man spoke to her in a low voice. “Vanessa Johnson? I’m your contact. Welcome to Maracaibo.”
She reminded herself not to react and call this man’s bluff. She didn’t have a contact here in Venezuela, and even if Warren had sent someone to meet her, no one would have ever used her real name in a foreign country.
“Where’s my usual contact?” Vanessa asked quietly.
“I don’t know. I just got a call telling me to pick you up.” He continued forward, keeping pace with Vanessa. “I have a car parked right outside.”
Vanessa wasn’t about to get in a car with this man, but she certainly couldn’t afford to draw the attention of the local authorities.
“Where?”
“Over there. Down at the end.” He motioned to a plain hatchback parked behind a string of taxis.
Vanessa played along, already going over possible outcomes in her mind. When they reached the car, the man made it abundantly clear that he had never been to any of her training classes. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and turned his back to her when he unlocked the passenger side.
Vanessa took advantage of the opportunity, turning in a quick circle and connecting her elbow with the back of the man’s head. He dropped forward, one arm catching on the open car door as he fell halfway into the passenger seat. Vanessa leaned over him, feigning concern in case anyone was watching.
Setting her suitcase to the side, she slipped her arm around the now unconscious man and managed to sit him up in the passenger seat. She then picked up the keys he had dropped and slipped them into her pocket. No reason to make it easy for him to follow her.
She retrieved her phone and used the camera to take a photo of the man. After closing him in the car, she put her hand back on her suitcase and rolled it forward to the nearest taxi, glancing back long enough to make a mental note of the license plate number and the make and model of the vehicle.
When she reached the taxi, she debated only a moment about whether she should go to the hotel she was registered in. Assuming someone could track her there, she opted for her backup plan.
Always cautious, she asked the taxi driver for his suggestion on where to stay. He gave her a couple of choices, and after a brief discussion on the location of the ones he’d suggested, she opted for the hotel nearest the city center.
Though she would have liked to check her clothes and purse for tracking devices, she didn’t want to give the cab driver any cause to take special notice of her. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone to look at the photos once more. When she did, she again noticed she had a message.
She plugged her earbuds into the phone so she would be the only one to hear the message and hit play. When she heard Paige’s frantic voice telling her she was a target, all doubt of her assistant’s loyalty was erased. She glanced behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed.
Vanessa fought the urge to call Paige right then to get an update. She knew all too well that panicking now was the worst thing she could do. Undoubtedly, whoever was targeting her had planned to pick her up at the airport. Now that she was clear, she could use her training to go underground and stay there until she knew where the danger was coming from.
After checking in under Lina’s name at the hotel, she made her way to her room, approving of the cab driver’s taste. The room was large and airy, a king-sized bed taking up the far side of the room.
She immediately crossed to the bed and pulled the covers down, sitting on it long enough to make it look like it had been slept in. She then used the bathroom and turned on the shower briefly. Wadding up a bath towel, she draped it over the side of the tub.
Satisfied that the bathroom now looked well used, she opened her purse and took out what looked to be a pen but was really a webcam. She positioned it so the camera was aimed at the door.
After roaming the room for another minute and repositioning various items to make it look like someone was staying there, she opened the closet door and found a drawstring bag used for laundry service.
Vanessa put her suitcase on the luggage stand inside the closet, turned the laundry bag inside out to hide the hotel logo, and then proceeded to change her clothes and pack the rest of her things into the drawstring bag.
She tucked her soiled clothes and everything she had been wearing in the airport into the dresser drawers, stringing them out so it looked like there was more in the drawers than there really was.
Retrieving her phone from her pocket, she downloaded and encrypted the two photos she had taken earlier, one of the female custodian and the other of the man who had claimed to be her contact.
She forwarded both photos to Warren with a single-word message: Compromised. Though she wished she could trust Warren to help her figure out what she should do next, she knew he would have to work within the framework of CIA operational policy. Vanessa didn’t feel she had that luxury at the moment.
She had hesitated to take Paige so fully into her confidence yesterday, but faced with her husband’s disappearance, she had felt she needed to keep all her resources available to her. Trusting Paige allowed her to do that.
She knew Paige wouldn’t have the ability to decrypt the photos, but she forwarded them to her as well, along with a different message: Make the call.
She did a thorough search of her purse to make sure no tracking devices had been planted on it. Satisfied she was signal free, she slid her purse onto her shoulder, picked up the laundry bag filled with her things, and walked out the door, making sure to put out the Do Not Disturb sign.
Leaving through a side exit, she strolled down the sidewalk and headed for the nearby shopping district.