9:45 a.m. (Mountain Time); Denver, Colorado
Denver International Airport (DIA) is the largest airport in the United States in terms of land area and the sixth busiest in the U.S. in traffic with more than fifty-four million passengers. DIA also boasts the longest runway in the country at sixteen thousand feet. One hundred and thirty-three gates are spread over three concourses. The passengers of the Gulfstream V that had just landed were not headed for any of them.
Special Agent Cruz and Dahlia descended the stairs attached to the jet and hurried toward one of two black SUV’s. Cruz opened the front passenger door and got in, while Dahlia climbed into the back seat behind Cruz. When the women were inside and had their seatbelts on, Hardy put the SUV in ‘drive’ and drove away from the jet. The second SUV, with a four-man FBI Hostage Rescue Team inside, followed.
Hardy saw Dahlia and Charity in the rear view mirror. The two women had not been officially introduced to each other. “Charity, meet Dahlia…Dahlia meet Charity. Charity is the team’s Information and Technology Specialist. Any questions on computers and intelligence, she’s the go-to person.”
Charity twisted her upper body and held out her right hand. “Pleased to meet you,” she said with a smile.
Dahlia shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” After a few seconds of studying Charity, Dahlia added, “If you’re the computer genius, then am I safe to assume it was you who tracked me down back in New York, two months ago.”
Charity affirmed Dahlia’s assumption.
“That was nice work. I have some experience with computers, too. May I ask how you did it?”
“First, I tried my facial recognition software, but you never faced any of the surveillance cameras.”
Now it was Dahlia’s turn to smile.
“Once Hardy identified you by your clothing, I used the cameras to find you getting into your vehicle. I was able to get a partial plate number, which I ran through the DMV in California and got lucky; only one Jeep Renegade matched the partial plate.”
Dahlia nodded. “Nice,” she said. “You said your facial recognition software…” she let her voice trail off, waiting for clarification.
“I’m also a programmer. The software was something I’ve been tinkering with for a few years. Working with the FBI, I’ve been able to finish it and put it to good use.”
Overhearing their conversation, Hardy glimpsed the women through the mirror. They seem to be hitting if off. “I hate to break you two up,” Hardy cranked the steering wheel to the left and navigated the SUV into traffic, “but we need to focus on the mission.”
Dahlia leaned toward Charity and whispered to her. “I’d love to see your work some time, if you don’t mind.”
…………………………
Hardy used the forty-minute drive to update everyone on the details of the mission, including the fact that Layla was actually Calista Nasser, half-sister to Ashar Yamadi. Charity provided the layout of the shop they would be assaulting as well as the surrounding business district, located on the Northeast edge of Denver. Driving on Welton Street, Hardy saw the flashing lights of police vehicles several blocks ahead. He had planned to park a few blocks away from the shop and go the rest of the way on foot. As he drew closer to the police vehicles, he felt his stomach twisting into knots and a bad feeling swept over him. He rotated his head to the right, but kept his eyes on the road. “Cherry, can you check—”
“I’ve already double-checked the location. “Those vehicles are parked right in front of the storefront where Yamadi’s phone last had a signal. We’re in the right place.”
Inwardly, Hardy groaned. On the outside, he gripped the steering wheel tighter. “Son of a…the only other person who knew the location was Director Burroughs, and she gave me her word she would not go in without us.” Since there was no need for stealth, Hardy parked as close as he could to the yellow ribbon stretched around the area to keep bystanders away. His fingers repeatedly smacked the screen on his phone, as he dialed the number for Burroughs. She answered on the third ring.
“This is Director Burroughs.” She sounded distracted.
Skipping formalities, Hardy got right into his tirade. “You gave me your word you’d wait for me. I get here and find the place crawling with agents.”
The anger in his voice got Burroughs attention. “Hardy?” she said. “What are you talking about?”
“You damn well know what I’m talking about. I’m in Denver, staring at your people screwing up my operation. I gave you Yamadi’s location and you gave me your word you wouldn’t move without me.”
“Back it up, Hardy.” Burroughs’ voice was rising, too. “I gave you my word and I kept my end of the deal. I haven’t authorized anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then, who am I looking at? I told no one else about Yamadi’s location.”
Burroughs was silent for several moments.
Thinking he lost the connection, Hardy hailed her. “Burroughs, are you still there?”
“I’m here.” The distraction in her voice was back.
“Care to explain?” he said, his temper growing more noticeable and less manageable.
“I never authorized a raid; however, I did pass along the information to my boss.”
Gillespie, thought Hardy. It would be just like him to rush in, hoping to get all the credit and repair his image with the President.
“Director Gillespie is my supervisor. I had to inform him…Give me some time and I’ll find out what happened.”
“Forget it,” Hardy snarled. “The damage is done.” He disconnected the call without giving her a chance to reply, jammed the phone into his pocket and wrenched on the door handle. “Let’s go get some answers.”