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“Revise our forecasting methods and expedite communication with suppliers,” I tell James, our warehouse manager, over video chat.
We’re growing at an unprecedented rate which explains these lapses. “If you need Bea to take on more responsibility, you should say so,” I remind him. She’s a retired procurement specialist for the United States Air Force. I’d say she’s more than qualified.
Working away from headquarters has a price. That price is my sanity when operations supervisors miscalculate what we need. Which is why when I accept Adam’s call I’m already on edge. Add to that an unshakable sense that something is in the air. I’m not a superstitious man, but I can’t deny the tingle down my spine.
“We’ve got a hit. Reagan Airport in DC. He’s being held right now,” Adam reports.
Blood surges to my ears, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Fuck yes, finally something. Quickly weighing the difference between booking a flight and driving four hours, I decide on the drive.
I call Louis, immediately regretting that I didn’t bring more agents with me to Virginia. “Louis, we’re going to DC. They’re holding Lysander Wolfson at the airport.”
“Sure thing, boss. I’ll swing by to get you.” He’s our best driver. If anyone can get us there in three hours, it’s Louis.
“Make sure Kina and Jake know you’re heading out. Ana’s just staying in her office after lunch, right?”
“According to her schedule, yeah.”
“Good.” I hang up and shut my other files.
There’s only one job I want to think of right now. The answers I need are within reach in the form of the detained Lysander Wolfson. I call Angel Lu, our TSA contact, to gather more details.
“You came through. Thank you,” I say sincerely.
“You’re welcome. Least I can do after the shit that went down in San Diego.”
I ignore her reference to a drug bust I helped with last year. “Who’s your man on the ground?”
“The DCA supervisor is a guy by the name of… ” She pauses, and I hear keyboard clinks. “Dale Sigfried. I’ll make sure he knows you’re coming. The suspect is safely detained. He’s not going anywhere, especially with the fake passport.”
Unlike most criminal detention facilities, TSA can hold suspects for as long as they need to. Hours. Days. That fucker is not going anywhere.
“What an idiot,” I mumble.
“To be honest, it’s hard to catch these things. It’s only because your surveillance team alerted us that we looked closer.”
“Good job, anyway. I really appreciate it. Till next time, Angel.”
While Louis weaves through the Interstate 64 traffic, I watch the footage that captured Lysander. It’s puzzling. For someone who’s been on the lam for a few weeks, he’s weirdly sloppy. He had all this time and is leaving haphazardly? It doesn’t make sense.
I remind myself that the answers will come soon. Can’t wait to get my hands on this fucker. My fists clench.
Taking a deep breath, I realize Ana should be updated on my whereabouts. She doesn’t answer my call, which isn’t unusual considering dozens of people clamor for her attention throughout the day. Getting her to take lunch breaks with me was a feat in and of itself.
My text reads, We’ve got a lead on Lysander but it’s taking me to DC for the rest of the day. I’ll see you tonight, hopefully with good news.
After two minutes of not getting a text back from Ana, I’m antsy. She doesn’t need to take my call, but she responds to texts almost immediately. I call Kina who, thankfully, answers after one ring.
“What’s up, boss?”
“I’ve been trying to reach Ana. Do you have eyes on her?”
“Always. She’s had a ton of people in and out of the conference room all day. She might have left her phone in the office. Want me to interrupt the meeting she’s in? Doesn’t look like she’s having any fun, anyway.”
Kina’s amused tone eases my stress. Business as usual is fine.
“No. Don’t interrupt her meetings. I’ve sent a text explaining where Louis and I are headed. When she’s free, make sure she checks her phone.”
I hang up and text Ana again.
