“Go through. I’ll call it in now.”
“Which runway is James Pearson on?”
The guard checked his computer. “He’s not on the runway yet. His plane is still at the hangar, but his flight slot is in half an hour.”
“Which hangar?” said Rob insistently.
The guard pulled out a brochure with a map and marked the space. “Here.”
“Thank you,” said Rob. “Your country thanks you.”
“No problem, Agent Gibson.”
“Go,” said Rob when the gate opened.
Marcus listened to Rob’s directions and reached the hangar section but they were forced to park the car at a barrier.
“Let’s go,” said Rob. “It’s just a few doors down.”
Saks and Gloria followed Rob as he nearly sprinted down to the entrance. Gloria offered Saks her shoulder. “Lean on me and I’ll help you.”
By the time they came to the service entrance of the hangar, Saks saw Rob talking animatedly to Chrissy.
She stood there, gorgeous in a black suit and white button-down, with her golden hair tumbling down her back. “And why would I believe anything,” snapped Chrissy, “that a Hades’ Spawn tells me?”
“Chrissy,” said Saks.
Her head jerked up at his voice. “What,” she said angrily, “are you doing here?”
“Crying for three days, eh?” he said under his breath. “I need to talk to you.”
“The time for talking is over, Saks. I’ve said everything I have to say to you.”
Saks stepped forward. “Baby.”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me.”
A man in a dark suit stepped from the doorway behind the service desk. He eyed Rob, Gloria, and Saks with an unfriendly stare. “Chrissy,” he said, “it’s time to go.”
“Can I have a minute, Mr. Pearson? My sister and her friends have come to say goodbye.”
“Hurry. We only have a certain amount of time to take off.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pearson.”
Pearson disappeared behind the door again.
“Chrissy. Don’t go with that man,” said Saks.
“What? Jealous?”
“No! For Heaven’s sake. He’s an international criminal. You don’t need to get messed up with him.”
Chrissy laughed bitterly. “You’ll try anything, won’t you? I already heard the international criminal story from my sister. Just give it up, Saks. It’ll be better for both of us.”
“It won’t be better for me.”
“Too damn bad, Anth—”