Charlotte quickened her step as she reached the train platform and headed for the station house. Her increased pace didn’t deter the man behind her. He kept up with her easily, his long legs eating up the ground between them until he fell in step beside her.
“I’m here to help,” he said, his voice low.
She tried to hide the flash of panic on her face, forcing herself to look over at him when she spoke. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m your emergency contact, Charlie. I’m here to take you in.” He took her firmly by the arm, holding her in place while he drew his wallet out of his inside jacket pocket and showed her his ID. Phil Campbell. National Security Agency.
For a moment she froze, not sure what to do. The credentials looked authentic, but she had two problems. First, how did he find her, and second, who had sent him?
Emergency protocols aside, she had been present when Dwight had briefed Kurt on the guardians, and one thing had been made abundantly clear: the only three men in the National Security Agency who knew anything about the program were her dad, Kurt Dorsey, and Ken Holtz.
Dwight had developed the computer encryptions to protect the highly sensitive data compiled to allow their operatives to function properly, and Kurt had been chosen to replace him when Dwight retired next year. Ken provided technical support, but he understood the guardian program and would never send someone unknown to make contact with her.
The administration of the program was handled exclusively through a little-known office in the Central Intelligence Agency, but even the person doing the paperwork didn’t know the identities of the operatives and the nature of their missions; nor did Senator Spalding, who facilitated their funding. Only one person still alive knew the program besides Ken Holtz, and that was Ace, the senior guardian operative himself.
Since she was sure this man wasn’t here for the reasons he claimed, Charlotte decided to focus on the one aspect he might admit to. “How did you find me?”
“I played a hunch.” He guided her toward the station exit, but she stopped near the restrooms.
“Before we go, I need to use the restroom. It was a long ride.”
He looked at her suspiciously. “You aren’t trying to ditch me, are you?”
“No, of course not.” Her sincerity sounded forced, and she knew it.
“Charlotte, you can trust me. Really.” He spoke with compassion and earnestness. “I’m so sorry about your dad. I don’t want anything to happen to you too. He would want me to make sure you stay safe.”
When she didn’t say anything, he motioned to her purse. “Why don’t you leave that with me?”
“I need it.” Charlotte gave him a pointed look. “It’s a woman thing.”
He flushed slightly but still appeared suspicious.
“Here.” Charlotte opened her bag and retrieved her wallet, flipping it open to reveal her ID and credit cards. “You can hold this for me. Obviously I can’t go far without it.”
“All right. I guess I’ll just wait here.” He didn’t looked thrilled about letting her out of his sight, but with the number of people milling about, he seemed to realize there wasn’t much he could do to stop her.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Charlotte pointed at her wallet. “Keep that safe for me.” Without waiting for his response, she strolled into the restroom.
* * *
Ace heard a car pull up in the drive of the modest house situated just outside of Laurel, Maryland. Located on a wooded lot away from the view of any potentially curious neighbors, the house had been one of the guardians’ safe houses on the East Coast.
The garage door rumbled as it opened, and the car pulled inside, confirming what Ace had suspected: Kade had arrived. The door leading from the garage into the house opened, and the man himself burst through.
With the look of a marathon runner, long and lean, the twenty-eight-year-old often used his average height and dark hair to his advantage when he wanted to blend into the background. At the moment, he was hard to miss with the air of impatience he had brought with him. He didn’t bother with greetings. He rarely bothered with anything beyond what was absolutely necessary. “Any idea if the system was breached?” he asked.
“It was a complete shutdown.” Ace shook his head. “As far as we can tell, Dwight locked it down deliberately. That means someone was trying to coerce him into accessing something, most likely the intelligence databases.”
“You know what this means, don’t you?”
“Yeah. We have a mole. Someone on the inside tracked down Dwight,” Ace said, the words sounding unreal even to him. “I already coded a message in the newspaper. Dwight trained her well. She’ll know what to do.”
“How long did you give her?”
“Six weeks.”
“Six weeks?” Kade repeated incredulously. “Do you think she’ll be okay for that long? She’s a civilian.”
“We can’t take the chance that one of us will lead someone to her. Besides, the best thing we can do for her now is keep her away from us while we track down this mole,” Ace said. “Only a handful of people even know about the guardian program. It can’t be that hard to figure out who’s behind this.”
“I hope you’re right.”
* * *
Charlotte knew she was trapped the moment she walked inside the windowless bathroom. Barely glancing at the two women washing their hands at the line of sinks, she hurried into the first stall and locked it.
She took a moment to compose herself and think through her situation. Every fiber in her being told her she couldn’t trust this man. Her dad had told her not to trust anyone. The contact procedures were very specific: no one was supposed to make personal contact with her. She was the one who would reach out.
She knew the codes by heart as well as where and how to find them. She had met her designated contact many times over the years, their most recent encounter occurring only three weeks before.
Had Dwight known something like this would happen?
Doing what she could to alter her appearance, she ran her fingers through her long dark hair, separating it into three sections and twisting it into a long braid as best she could in the cramped bathroom stall. She wished she had a pair of sunglasses or a ball cap, but neither of those was included in her limited wardrobe, and the bonnet in her bag would make her stand out, not blend in. She pulled out the long-sleeved blouse and slipped it on over the plain T-shirt she wore.
In desperation, she looked up at the ceiling, hoping for any other exits. She found none.
Minutes passed as she worked through any possible means of escape, yet nothing she could think of changed the fact that there was only one entrance to the restroom, and Phil was standing on the other side of it. Why was it that on TV there was always an exit window, but when she needed one, it didn’t exist?
She wondered how long she had before Phil barged into the restroom and dragged her out. He would reveal his true identity if he did so, but she doubted he would wait too long for fear that she would find a way out.
Several women came and went, the minutes ticking by while Charlotte tried to formulate a plan. Nearly ten minutes later, she heard his voice when he stopped a woman as she left the restroom.
“Excuse me, but did you see a woman in there with long dark hair, midtwenties? I was waiting for her, but I’m afraid I might have missed her.”
The woman responded in the negative. Charlotte found herself grateful she had thought to hide in a stall the whole time.
He mumbled his thanks.
A moment later, she heard a door open, followed by the squeak of wheels against the tile floor. She saw a flash of yellow through the crack beside the stall door. It took a moment for her to realize the squeaking she heard belonged to the custodial cart.
A woman standing beside the sink spoke. “Excuse me. Could I get some paper towels? The dispenser is empty.”
“Yes, ma’am. Let me get some out of the closet.”
“Thank you.”
Charlotte listened to the exchange, at first not thinking anything of it. Then she keyed in on the custodian’s last word. Closet.
She heard the worker pass her to begin her cleaning duties in the last stall. With a flutter of hope, Charlotte exited the stall and noticed a door to her right hanging open. She edged closer, looking into the custodial closet located just inside the restroom entrance.
Another woman went to exit, and Charlotte pressed herself up against the wall to make sure she wouldn’t be seen in case Phil happened to glance through the door.
On closer examination, she noticed the closet wasn’t a closet at all but a long corridor, presumably allowing the cleaning crew access to both the men’s and women’s restrooms.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching her, she stepped through the closet door. The corridor was only a few feet wide, the wall to her right lined with boxes of cleaning supplies, paper towels, and toilet paper. Several more cleaning carts were parked beyond the shelves.
In the center of the corridor, there was a hose to fill mop buckets. Charlotte glanced to her left, and her heartbeat quickened. A door.
She looked behind her, calculating that she had traveled four or five yards from the women’s restroom. Taking a deep breath, she reached for the doorknob, turned it, and cautiously pushed the door open.
Phil was standing several feet away, staring at the entrance, his back to her. He had his cell phone to his ear. She was just close enough to hear his quietly spoken words.
“What do you want me to do? She isn’t coming out . . . I’m sure she didn’t have anywhere to go. She’s got to be in there. The restrooms are in the middle of the building, so I doubt there are any windows.”
Charlotte didn’t wait to find out the answer. Her steps hurried, she angled away from the restroom, careful to stay out his line of vision as she made her way toward the exit. She was nearly to the door when she heard him shout her name. “Charlie!”
She sprinted for the exit. Outside, she immediately veered to her right, where she saw a line of yellow taxi cabs.
She opened the door of the nearest one and climbed in.
“Where to, miss?” the driver asked, barely looking at her.
“National Airport.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He pulled forward slowly. Charlotte glanced behind her, seeing the man racing toward her.
Her heart felt like it would explode as she watched him close the distance between them. The cab driver took his time to edge forward in preparation to merge into traffic on the main street.
What did this Phil guy want with her? The fact that he knew her name and that he knew to look for her told her that somehow, somewhere, the system had been breached long before those men showed up at the farm.
She could imagine the pounding of Phil’s footsteps as he continued to race forward. He was only a few yards away when the driver finally pulled out into traffic, accelerated, and left the train station and her pursuer behind.