By midday Sunday, the drivers of the three black suburban’s used for support in the western attack had each been in Amarillo for more than twelve hours. Coming in from various directions of northern New Mexico, western Kansas via the Oklahoma panhandle, and Colorado by traversing a course down through the southeast corner of the state, the three women had all arrived well before midnight. Now after resting comfortably in a local motel and catching up on the morning regional and national news reports of the attacks, it was nearly time for the drivers and their vehicles to continue onward.

Courtney Tillman had arrived many hours before them during the midafternoon, and as the final aspect of her secretive mission, waited for the safe return of the three women. After checking out of her south Denver motel during the early morning hours of Saturday, Courtney had driven directly south on interstate-25 past the Air Force Academy long before the attack had transpired. Then two hours later, shortly after entering New Mexico, she turned more eastward onto highway-87 for the remainder of the distance toward the northern outskirts of Amarillo. By the time forty-two men began jumping out of helicopters to do their dastardly deed, Courtney had already crossed over into the central time zone at the state line of New Mexico and Texas.

Later that night after getting five hours of well-earned sleep, Courtney positioned herself where she could easily record the pending arrival of the three drivers. After the last of them arrived, she broke her non communication mode of two weeks by contacting number twenty three. Courtney informed the woman that her own mission in Denver had been carried out successfully and without complication, while also disclosing what she had observed with regard to the drivers arrival at their designated motel. Shortly after ending that communication, Courtney then began to gather intelligence for something of a more personal matter. The two women that she had witnessed going into the Centennial Airport control tower posing as federal agents looked quite different as they emerged from their rooms in the relaxed attire of jeans and t-shirts. Courtney couldn’t blame them for venturing into a country bar next to the motel with the third driver for a late night drink and a bit of relaxation, and in a way, wished that she could join them. Because none of the women actually knew her, she might be able to position herself near them in the bar and listen for confessions or gossip. She didn’t possess the slightest bit of evidence to support it at the current time, and perhaps it was just her own imagination running wild, but Courtney’s gut instinct told her that one of those women might be sleeping with her husband Mason.

For the Sunday afternoon drive toward Dallas, the three women in the suburban’s could travel through the safety of Texas in formation if they so desired. They could take their time moving southeast along highway-287 toward the rendezvous point, and if all had gone well for their counterparts in the east, there would be a reunion of sorts during the coming night. As the vehicles were passing just to the south of the Amarillo International Airport and exiting interstate-40 onto 287, Courtney prepared to depart the area as well. While in the process of returning the rental car that she had used for the previous two weeks, she stewed over what might be going on with her husband. The women had only been in the country bar for thirty minutes before returning to their rooms, so it was fortunate that Courtney had not followed through with another possible course of action. She had wanted to go into each woman’s room and search for any evidence that might link them to an affair with Mason, but had she done so, their short visit to the bar would have left her vulnerable to being caught in the act.

As Courtney attempted to dismiss the negative thoughts that swirled about in her head, she turned her attention to the Tillman Gulfstream G280. Per the prearranged plan Samuel had sent the jet to Amarillo for her retrieval, and she was looking forward to the comfort it would provide for the final leg of the trip home. When she arrived at the Tillman mansion and with Mason still in El Paso, Courtney planned to spend a quiet evening with her daughter Jennifer and niece Savanah. Knowing that she would be the lone passenger aboard, she also reasoned that the flight attendant Domonique would have some spare time to join her in a game of cards and friendly conversation. She was a pleasant woman that Courtney had always felt comfortable around, and perhaps one that she could also confide in. If the mood was right, perhaps she would ask Domonique her feelings on if Mason was fooling around.